Luke's Big Butt Changes Ch. 07

I was trying so hard to hold it in, I swear. But when Coach drove over a bump, my hand had to shoot out and grab the door handle as I steeled myself against the wave. It honestly felt like a wave, with the amount of juice I squirted out onto the puppy pad Coach had put on his car seat. Smart thinking, as expected of Coach.

I tried to bite down and stop myself from moaning as a rush of hunger took over me. I couldn't help but grind my ass into the passenger seat, wanting to feel something rubbing against my hole. I was at a complete loss. Ever since that dream, the one with the creepy janitor fucking me, my body has had a mind of its own. I'm basically leaking juice 24/7, and at random times I'll be taken over by this hunger that makes me squirt extra hard and crave something huge inside my hole. I almost jumped Coach in his office!

Luckily Coach was calm and understanding. I knew I could count on him. The next day, he invited me to his office and told me that he had been up all night trying to figure out what was wrong with me. To be honest, I never thought to ask the internet. I figured what was going on was so weird that I had to be the only person going through it. According to Coach, that wasn't true at all. He found some online groups for guys who described having similar experiences to me - and that led him to finding the only doctor who seemed to know what he was talking about.

The doctor - Carson was his name - lived a couple of hours away from us. Coach offered to take the day off and drive me to my appointment. He said this was a last-minute appointment that the doctor could squeeze me in for, since he set aside some time each day for emergencies.

So now here I was, riding along in Coach's car and trying not to turn the entire front seat into a major splash zone. I wanted to cry, it was torture. This deep empty feeling inside me that just made me feel like I needed to get FILLED. It was like my body was incomplete without something inside me. My hole was twitching, and worse than that, there was a throbbing, hungry, almost itchy sensation deep inside my ass.

Coach kept glancing over at me and putting his hand on my shoulder, giving me a little squeeze of encouragement. I felt calmer having Coach there, like he was going to help me out. I trusted him. Which just made me guilty, because every time I looked at him, my eyes immediately went to his crotch, and then that hungry feeling inside me got so strong I had to clench down on my hole as much as possible to stop the burst of juice that threatened to leak out.

God-fucking-damn, why the fuck was Coach packing? I always knew he had a big bulge - some of the guys on the team had jokingly called him "Coach Cuntwrecker" before. He was always wearing those tight little blue shorts, which left nothing to the imagination. Or the time I heard (and saw) it slapping against his thigh as he jogged by. But now, being so close to it, a million thoughts buzzed around my head.

I wanted to lean down and put my mouth on it. I wanted to stuff my face with it and taste his pre-cum. I wanted to climb over onto his lap and aim his rigid cock right at my hole so I could sink down on it. I wanted him to stop the car and pull me onto the hood and fuck me like an animal. I wanted him to mount me and fuck me, making my cheeks clap as he buried his cock inside me to the hilt.

Which is a fucking messed up thing to think about your Coach, who is also kinda like your dad. Not to mention I shouldn't want to do any of those things. After all, I'm not gay, despite whatever Sammy thinks.

Sammy.

Every time I thought about him, the emptiness inside me grew. And it wasn't just with a need to get stuffed and filled, even though I missed the way his cock seemed to slide right into my hole like a key to a lock. The emptiness I felt wasn't just physical but... emotional. I missed him. He is my best friend, or maybe he was my best friend, and this is the longest we've gone without talking to each other. Even when he spent that summer in Pakistan visiting his relatives, he still video called with me a couple of times.

Sammy was the voice of reason, but he was also always doing the wildest shit, just daring to get in trouble. No matter what, I knew joining in on his schemes would be lit. I remembered that time we snuck into some old guy's farm to see if you could actually tip a cow, Sammy's idea obviously. We didn't do it, but only because we heard the old guy yelling that he was going to shoot whoever was out there. We hightailed it back to Sammy's car, and as we jumped inside we both burst out laughing.

This time, I had to clench down and shut my eyes to stop the tears from forming in the corners. Coach already had a front row seat to me squirting an insane amount of juice out of my hole, he didn't need to see me crying too. Fuck, I need to stop being such a pussy.

"You alright there, Luke?" Coach asked, putting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. I shuddered and my eyes drifted back to his crotch. Coach's bulge was getting bigger, twitching, I could see it clearly outlined in those thin shorts. Coach's dick was snaking down his leg - almost poking out of the opening in his shorts. I had to grab the car door again and bear down.

"Ohhhh fuuuuuuuck!!!" I moaned as I felt a glob of juice squirt out of my hole and all over the carseat.

"God, I'm so sorry Coach! I know you just got this truck," I apologized, feeling like such a bitch. Coach didn't seem to mind though, he just gave my shoulder another squeeze.

"It's alright, Luke, that's why we put the puppy pads down. Hopefully they can handle your... situation. Just hang in there, we're almost there."

After what felt like several excruciating hours of me trying not to jump Coach and stop the unending stream of juice coming out of me, Coach finally pulled into the parking lot of some office building. From the looks of it, it seemed completely normal. I almost expected this "clinic" to be more like a hospital, but the only sign that it was a medical place was a sign that said Carson Clinic for Men.

Coach helped me out, and I felt like such a fucking baby to have to lean on him while he steadied me. I just told myself it was like that time I really cut my knee up when I slid to home plate. I was limping a bit and Coach helped me up just like this.

The whole place was kinda sus, to be honest. Like the kind of place you'd wake up in a bathtub with a missing kidney. I almost wanted to turn around, but I felt another wave of that hungry, neediness inside me and I almost dropped to my knees. And I couldn't help but notice that while Coach held me up, his bulge was pressed up against my thigh.

There was a dull buzz inside my head. Like chanting. Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me... I couldn't get it to stop.

Coach opened the door and we entered the office. It was a small waiting room, with just a couple of chairs and one of those windows. Sitting on the other side was this black guy with short hair wearing those nurse scrubs. I could tell even in those baggy clothing that the guy was jacked. And I was shocked when the guy stood up - I had no idea he was even sitting - and realized he must have been at least six and a half feet tall. My eyes instantly traveled down to his loose scrub pants and I literally dropped to my knees when I saw the long, huge, thick snake bulging out of them. Coach had to help me up, and the nurse just gave me a smile.

After leading me to the exam room, the nurse did the typical nurse stuff of taking my heart rate and weight and all that. I definitely caught him checking my ass out, but he kept a respectful distance. A twisted, fucked up part of me really wanted him to accidentally brush his bulge up against me so I could find out how big it really was. Instead, he just told me to take a seat and wait for the doctor.

So here I was sitting on the exam table. I noticed something kind of weird about them. It had a slight recline, it was pretty comfy, actually, but it had these weird metal claw-like things at the bottom of it. They kinda freaked me out, and I was having second thoughts about sticking around. Coach must have noticed that I was nervous, because he got up and put his hand on my shoulder again.

"You can do it, Luke. I'm here to support you." I just tried my best to smile at him, but I couldn't. I took a huge gulp when I heard footsteps outside the door.

A tall, slim man with white hair and a short white beard walked in. He seemed like he took care of himself, which is probably why he didn't actually look that old - if I had to guess he was in his 50's maybe? He seemed like he wasn't that frail, but I couldn't see much with that long white lab coat. Huh, so doctors actually wear that shit?

"Welcome, you must be Thomas." He nodded at Coach, then turned to me. "And you must be Luke. I am Doctor Johan Carson." I expected him to smile or something like that, but his face was permanently frozen. He didn't have a resting bitch face or anything, but he just had this totally neutral expression. His cool, blue eyes were completely unmoving. He was calm but also kind of creepy. I also noticed that he had a slight accent - something European?

"Based on what you told me, Thomas, we should begin the examination right away. Not much reason to exchange pleasantries and waste time." The fact that he was so professional was kind of a relief. Like this wasn't some shady scam of a creepy doc using an excuse to molest hot young athletes. I heard about that shit, I think there's even a Netflix documentary about it...

"Before we get started, I hope to discuss what we have planned today. As Thomas may have told you, I am a sports physician. I have become interested in a pattern I am seeing in some elite athletes. However, because of the embarrassing symptoms, I have had much difficulty in finding patients for whom I can learn more about this malady. I hope that today I can begin to help you."

I relaxed a little. I know I just met him, but I was starting to trust this guy. "Thanks, Doc. I gotta tell you, it's been hell for me. I thought I found something that helped, but it just got worse and worse. Now it's happening all day, every day. I can't sleep, I can't study, I can't even train."

Doc pulled a clipboard out and started taking notes. "Please describe your symptoms in detail."

"Uh..." Shit I was kinda embarrassed.

"Tell him, Luke. It's what we're here for. Nobody is gonna make you feel bad." Coach gave me an encouraging look, but Doc Carson was still stone faced. Huh, kinda weird.

"Alright so... well at first, my butt got bigger. I've always had a big ol' booty, right? But then literally overnight I went up a size. And it just kept getting bigger. Honestly, I was measuring it for a while, but I think it's stopped, which is good, right?"

Doc just kept writing on his clipboard, and I waited for him to say something, like that my ass growth stopping was a good sign. "Yes, the disease I have discovered, what I call Carson's Syndrome, affects athletic men of all ages, though most patients first exhibit symptoms between the age of 18 to 25. It is genetic in origin. Rapid gluteal development is the first sign, sometimes as fast as overnight. Patients' thighs and glutes gain muscle mass rapidly, and body fat is redistributed so that a greater proportion is stored in the thigh area. Proper treatment will cause the growth to slow down or stop altogether. Please continue."

Wait, so my huge bubble ass that came outta nowhere is actually a thing? Like there other guys like me who have experienced serious booty gains, overnight as doc said. But it was good to hear that with treatment the growth can stop. I just want to be able to wear pants again, honestly. I'll do whatever Doc says if it will make my ass stop growing.

"And then... uh. I got this like, itch? Inside my ass? Except it wasn't an itch it was like... a hunger. I felt so empty. It drove me crazy, it was like twitching." I took a deep breath. I was gonna say something even Coach didn't know. I dropped my voice low. "I, uh, well I tried putting my fingers in it, and that helped for a while."

Carson didn't react much. While he wrote down on his clipboard, he said in the same monotone voice, "That sensation that you are describing is the next symptom to emerge. My patients have described it as an uncomfortable twitch, a painful pulsation, or an intense feeling similar to hunger pangs. Do not be alarmed, it is essentially your body notifying you that you need treatment. It can interfere with your day to day life, but my treatment plan reduces these attacks greatly. Please continue."

"And then, uh... Coach, can you please not tell anyone this next part?"

"Of course, Luke. I would never."

"Okay, so. Then I started to... get wet. Like, leaking out of my hole. But it wasn't shit! It was like, clear, and slippery, and kinda felt good? It got everywhere, like seriously all of my pants and underwear are ruined because I'm pretty much constantly leaking."

"That is also a typical symptom. The liquid discharge is your body's natural lubricant, but delivered in much higher quantities than normal. It has some atypical properties, such as being antiseptic and safe to consume. Essentially your body is preparing your anal tract for treatment by producing this natural lubricant."

So that weird goo coming out of my ass was just... lube? That made so much sense now. I mean, doc was right, it was definitely slippery and made it easier to, y'know... put things inside me.

"It wasn't that bad at first. But then it kept getting worse. I had a friend, a real bro you know? And he was helping me out. So that was good, cuz it was really working."

"And how was he helping you, Luke?"

Shit. I really didn't want to explain more. But I knew I had to, if we were going to get to the bottom of this.

"My friend, he... put his dick inside my ass. And he... well he fucked me, Doc. But it wasn't gay! Just a bro helping me out. He, uh, he came inside me, and when he did it felt really good, and the itching, hungry, throbbing feeling went away for a while. And I would stop leaking that weird goo from my ass too."

Doc continued writing, making some soft humming sounds as he jotted down notes. My ass still spasmed, deep this time as I told him all that had been happening these past couple weeks. I could see Coach look away from me, his face a red tinge. And I didn't need a mirror to know I must have been cherry red in the face too. This was so fuckin' embarrassing. Coach was like a dad to me and now he was hearing all this. I was kinda losing focus on the doctor as I started to think about how intense this all was.

"Mr. Micucci...Luke." Doctor Carson said rather flatly to me, startling me a bit.

"Oh um, sorry. But that was it. I um, tried to handle this on my own without my friend. I had um...yeah some help from another friend, but...it still wasn't enough really."

Coach looked at me, his face the same neutral expression. I knew he'd want to know who else was helping me, but we could deal with that later. I winced as I felt another twitch deep inside me and then shrugged, feeling a little helpless sitting there on the exam table.

"So, Doc...what's going on? What's happening to me?" My voice cracked a bit. That was new for sure. I don't think my voice did that since I was first hitting puberty. If I wasn't dripping from my ass so much, my body would have more energy to be sweating bullets with how nerve wracking this whole thing was.

Doc Carson set aside his clipboard and grabbed a pair of gloves out of a drawer. "Your symptoms match the guidelines that I am developing. I have found numerous other patients who describe similar experiences. I am developing a standard procedure to diagnose, but in the meantime I will require further testing to determine the best treatment options for you," He added as he grabbed what looked to be a clear bucket with measurements on the side of it from the cabinet under the sink.

I could hear Coach breathe a sigh of relief when Doc said that there was something that could help. I did too, knowing that this wouldn't be an issue that threw my life out of whack. Although it was super weird for Doc to be so chill about it, putting on thick rubber gloves and sliding a bucket slightly off the edge of the table.

The door opened, and that huge black nurse came in holding a tiny piece of fabric, the color of those medical gowns you wear at hospitals. I couldn't really tell what it was.

"Luke, please remove all clothing and dress in this medical gown so that I can examine you more easily." He said as he pulled those weird metal claws out from under the exam table, then wheeled a chair over and and sat himself down at the bottom edge. I followed his directions. At that point I was throbbing and dripping so much, there wasn't much left to the imagination with my pants being so drenched. I saw Coach look away when I took my clothes off - but I couldn't help but notice that his dick twitched a little bit.

I shucked my sopping wet shorts and boxers, which landed on the tile floor with a wet SPLAT. Damn, looking down at them now, I had no idea just how wet I was. My shorts were totally soaked - like right out of the wash soaked. I heard Coach mumble something like "Jesus..." but I was losing my focus again as I felt a glob drip down my leg now that my shorts weren't there to absorb it.

When I grabbed the tiny fabric, I unfolded it to realize it was... it was like a thong mixed with a jockstrap. Not like the kind I wore for baseball, it was tiny and mesh. It looked like something you'd see a gay guy wear, uh, not that I would know anything like that. I looked up at Dr. Carson and he simply sat there stone faced.

"Doc, you sure this isn't uh... it's not like the medical gowns I've seen before."

"Yes, Luke. I have developed this garment specifically to meet the needs of my patients. It is based on an athletic supporter, with some modifications. The absorbent mesh material is to prevent it being ruined by your expulsions. The front pouch contains your genitals to ensure that they do not obstruct my examinations, and the open back and straps are positioned so that I may easily examine your anus."

Honestly, this whole thing was fuckin' weird... but all that medical mumbo-jumbo meant Doc must know what he's talking about. I'd worn jocks already, and I guess it wasn't too different from one of those backless medical gowns. I shrugged and stepped into the "medical gown", bending over with my back facing Dr. C and Coach to pull it up. As I did I heard Coach gasp out a "FUCK!".

"Uh, everything OK Coach?" We made eye contact, and there was something in his eyes... a hunger. It both freaked me out and made my hole twitch. He quickly broke eye contact and turned away. He was totally red in the face, and he was covering his crotch with his hands. Just the sight of that growing mound, barely hidden, almost made me gush again.

The jock was surprisingly comfortable. The mesh was soft and it clung to my ass like a second skin. The pouch fit my dick and balls perfectly - and Doc was right, they did lift my junk out of the way. The only exception was the straps - they were a little too tight, and they dug into my mega-donk, which lifted my cheeks and made them separate slightly so that I could feel the cold air hit my needy puck. I bit down on my lip and tried to suppress a shudder, feeling another drop of juice drip down again.

"Luke, please lie on the exam table and put your legs in these stirrups," Doc told me as he pointed to those metal claw-like things coming from the bottom of the exam table. I was still a little freaked out - but for some reason I felt like Doc wasn't secretly some perv. It was probably because he was so calm and detached, it was like he clearly didn't get pleasure from this, and him being chill helped me feel like I didn't have to freak out. Even though I didn't want to show my leaky, needy asshole to a complete stranger, something about showing Carson felt natural and right.