Dark Hunger- Part 2 (Patreon)

Jon Talbain finds a solution to the gnawing hunger of his inner beast- now he just needs to find a way to walk again. Enjoy, folks!

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Jon Talbain was cursing himself under his breath, still desperately trying to break free. Why had he listened to Morrigan? Why had he put himself in this situation? Why did all the meat have to taste so good? The fighter werewolf, the hardened beast of London's Underworld, had eaten himself into a gluttonous sphere of a wolf, and gotten himself stuck in a warehouse door after finally eating enough to sate his bestial hunger. He would have to consider how much he had ruined his physique later- his feet still helplessly scraped against the floor, kicking at his engorged belly- the door from the butcher's shop had swung open, and Jon was bracing for the cries of terror.

"Ye great lummox! What'd you do to yerself?" Jon's ears pricked up at hearing Morrigan's hissing voice. He could feel the succubus that had dragged him here pressing into his swollen flesh. "Ye've got to get out of here!"

"I'm trying!" Jon snarled, his cheeks wobbling as he tried wriggling free. He heard Morrigan let out a frustrated shriek, and then strike him with one of her powerful attacks- the sheer force of it popped the gluttonous werewolf free and he went flying, like a cork from a bottle. He hit the wall and slumped to the ground, the immense amounts of padding he had acquired insulating him from any serious hurt.

"Ye cleaned out the entire meat locker?" Morrigan gasped.

"You said I should feed the beast, so I did!" Jon argued.

"So… ye aren't hungry?" the succubus asked.

Jon shifted his weight. "Not…" he paused, letting out a loud belch and thumping his puffy chest. "Not at the moment."

"Then for the love of all things dark and terrible, let's get ye outta here!" Morrigan strained trying to help pulling the rotund wolf to his feet. Jon grunted, his barrel-thick thighs wobbling as the shakily pulled up the weight of his engorged belly.

The trek back to Jon's lair in Whitechapel was slow and arduous, as Morrigan needed to help the bloated werewolf support his new, expansive weight, letting the canine lean on her, or even, hefting up the overhanging shelf of his belly, to help him move his legs faster. By the time Jon flopped down, practically demolishing a threadbare couch in his living room, he groaned, cradling his belly.

"What the Hell do ye think ye'll do now?" Morrigan asked, rubbing the back of her head as she took all of Jon in.

The werewolf grunted. "I don't bloody know… I have no idea how long it'll take to, uh, digest all this… but I do like it."

"Eh?"

"Being full," Jon smiled, patting his round belly. "You have no idea what a relief it is to not feel that gnawing hunger all the time… but I can't keep this up, I can't afford it to do this every night!"

Morrigan shrugged. "Ye could just steal it."

"Steal?!"

"Well, it's either a few bakeries go with their overnight stock missin' or ye keep whingin' about the inner beast fer the rest of yer days." The succubus stood, stretching her arms. "Alright now, it's almost dawn, so I'm headin' out- and lettin' ye sleep all this off."

Morrigan let Jon stew for a week. She had other tasks to attend to, after all. But when one of her nightly haunts led her back to London, she caught a glimpse of a news report- all kinds of shops, bakeries, butchers, fastfood restaurants- had suffered a string of robberies in the dead of night. The succubus had a sneaking suspicion, but no- no, it couldn't be. Jon Talbain knew she was just joking around, right? Surely.

Just to make certain, she made her way to Jon's usual haunts, and helping herself in, gasped.

"Ah, cripes- Morrigan!" Jon forced a smile, dimpling his inflated cheeks. "I didn't hear you coming in."

"Aye, sorry…" the succubus was left staring at the werewolf, her mouth agape. "I, uh. I see you've been busy."

"That's, heh, one way to put it…" The werewolf was an obscenely bloated parody of the hunter he had been not so long ago- so much weight had been piled on to his frame, it was a wonder if he could even walk under his own power anymore; his feet were propped up in the air as he sat, listlessly kicking as his fatty calves like ham hocks kept them aloft. Of course, that was small potatoes compared to the enormous hill of his belly, spilling out over his lap and pressing down on the floor by a good few feet. The wolf looked like a cross between gelatin and cookie dough, he looked so soft and plush. He was leaning forward, his belly spreading out further, shunted forward by the room his enormous rear needed, a pair of globular ass cheeks slowly swallowing his tail- which was oddly wagging. His pillowy chest was weighed down by rings of multiple chins, and his once shredded, powerful arms were swaddled in reams of fat.

"I, uh…" Morrigan cleared her throat. "I see the news weren't lying none about the robberies…"

"I took your advice!" Jon slapped his belly, sending rippling waves of fat to spread across the surface of his enormous gut. "Like you said- it's better than living with that hungry beast, aye?"

"Jon." Morrigan planted her hands on the werewolf's belly and gave it a hard enough shake to make his whole body tremble. "Ye are the hungry beast. Look at ye!"

"I…" he huffed. "It's not perfect, no. But it's… been nice to play the part of a pampered dog instead of a fearsome wolf… this'll wear off in time, I uh…" he glanced over his shoulder at his fatty rump. "I'm pretty sure. But in the mean time, would you mind sticking around? I've got a few orders on the way- just enough to build up my strength you understand. I'm still a hunter- but hunting sausage links, pizzas, and cakes are much easier on the conscience, after all."