Dad Pussy Syndrome

Hank Reynolds gripped the steering wheel with his large hands, his knuckles turning white.

He couldn't believe what he had heard.

"You are indeed a match for what I have dubbed Carson's Syndrome. Unfortunately there is no cure, but the condition can be managed with proper treatment."

Sounds good, right? But then the white haired, stony faced doctor told him what kind of 'treatment' that entailed. And Hank reacted with shock and disbelief, which quickly morphed into anger. He had half a mind to pop that freaky robotic quack in the jaw, but then he remembered there was a nurse, an imposing black man, standing in the corner. Hank had no option other than to back down.

The doctor had given him a pamphlet, a video, and a case of 'medical instruments', with the express instructions that he only open the case when he was ready, whatever that meant. With a stony face, the doctor said that Hank wasn't in the right state of mind to learn more just yet, but encouraged the man to at least watch the video, because if he continued to ignore his symptoms, things could get much worse.

His symptoms.

Hank thought nothing of it at first. He was a fit man in his 40's, a former college athlete, so his body had always been in great shape. He was less trim than in his 20's, but he had the kind of body many men his age were envious of. Broad shoulders, large pecs, biceps larger than softballs, and, of course, his powerful glutes. Hank had played hockey in college, and he was a shining example of the so-called 'hockey butt'. In other words, this middle-aged single father of three had an enormous muscular ass with two round, soft-yet-firm globes.

That's why when Hank woke up one morning, and tried to pull his boxer briefs up over his ass, he wasn't surprised that they hit a snag. Normally it took a bit of effort anyways. So he kept pulling, and pulling, wondering why it was more difficult than usual. Finally giving a little jump, he was shocked when he heard the rip of fabric. He stopped dead in his tracks, examining the tattered remains of his underwear.

Perhaps they had shrunk in the wash? That would be the most likely explanation. Or maybe he had mistakenly taken one of his son's pairs, who were all a size or two smaller than him. Curiously, he turned to his bedroom in profile.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Hank bellowed. His butt, large enough as it was, had seemingly grown overnight. Each cheek was practically the size of a soccer ball now, jutting out obscenely from his muscular figure, and bouncing at the slightest provocation.

"DAD! Are you ok!?" Suddenly, his son Bill burst through his bedroom door. Bill was his youngest; he and Hank's middle, Chris, were the ones who still lived at home. Bill looked at his father, breathing heavy with panic.

He was not expecting to see his father's naked figure that morning, or really any morning. And he certainly didn't expect to see his dad's big, round ass on display. And he most definitely did not expect to find himself unable to tear his eyes away from this old man's impressive glutes.

"SHIT! BILL!" Hank jerked, and tried to cover himself the best he could, shooting his hands to his front, but leaving his ass uncovered. The slight movement was enough to make his ass cheeks jiggle and clap together.

The sudden movement broke Bill out of his trance. It took great effort to move his gaze away from such a beautiful bubble butt, but finally able to look his father in the eye.

"Bill, I'm fine! Can I have some privacy!?" Hank said, exasperated.

Bill grew sheepish, retreating away and closing the door. He mumbled, "Sorry Dad..." and stood outside his dad's bedroom door. He was shell shocked. Of course, he had walked in on his dad changing or... checking himself in the mirror? Checking his ass out? The picture of his dad's hairy bubble was seared into his mind, and his cock stirred.

After he heard Bill's footsteps move farther away, Hank felt like it was safe again to move. He was embarrassed, mortified even, of the sound that had come from his ass cheeks when he was startled. The unmistakable clapping of flesh on flesh. His ass had never done that before. Sure, he had big glutes, but not big enough to do that. Or so he had thought.

After trying several other pairs of underwear, all of them ending up the same as the first pair, Hank had given up. There was no other option but to go commando that day. He would have to remind himself to buy some new pairs after work. But he was already wearing an XL...

Hank did find that the only way to get his ass into his jeans was to pull them up as hard as he could, and bounce up and down on his feet, letting gravity do the work of squeezing him into the material. Turning once more to the mirror, Hank's face dropped at what he saw. The material was skin-tight, practically bursting at the seams, like a second skin. Somehow, the denim seemed to lift his ass up almost like a push-up bra, and his massive cheeks somehow looked even bigger than naked. Hank considered trying to find a large pair, there must be something he could do, but-

"DAD! Hurry up, we're gonna be late!" Bill's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. Hank was shocked out of his stupor. He didn't have time for any of this! Satisfied, for now, with the fact that his lower half was at least covered, Hank grabbed a t-shirt, relieved that, fortunately, it still fit his torso, if a little bit tighter around the chest.

As he walked down the stairs, he had to slow his movement, because otherwise his cheeks would start clapping again. He also noticed that his pecs bounced ever so slightly as he descended. He caught his son looking at him again, mouth slightly parted, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Alright, come on, sorry, let's go!" Hank said, hoping to resume his normal day as quickly as possible, and put the strange events of this morning behind him.

Hank drove Bill to school every morning, since Chris took his own car for early morning practice. The drive to school that day was tense. Bill wouldn't even look at his father. Hank figured it was out of embarrassment - nobody wanted to see their muscular hunk of a dad completely naked, not to mention the humiliating clap of his ass cheeks. That was the only explanation for why Bill had turned his body away from Hank completely, putting his left leg slightly up, and stared out of the window the whole ride.

After he dropped Bill off at school, Hank shot his boss a quick text letting him know he'd be 10 minutes late. He was ready to start his day at the station. Aimless after college, Hank had decided to apply for the police academy, and soon found that he enjoyed the job immensely. The town they lived was pretty safe, so most of his duties involved breaking up domestic disputes, dealing with town drunks, and catching teenage vandals. Of course, it was a bonus that the job helped keep him in shape. He still had the strength to compete with all the fresh-faced rookies straight out of the academy.

Hank went to the locker room and grabbed his uniform - shirt, belt, boots, pants.

The pants.

Hank had forgotten completely. If he struggled this much just to pull his jeans over his ass, what hope did his uniform pants have? It was definitely not as stretchy as his denim. As expected, he struggled to fit the dark navy material over his booty. Knowing that it was a bad idea to damage the company provided garments, Hank gave up. Swallowing his embarrassment, he knocked on his boss's office door.

Gary was a handsome man, a few years older than Hank, with a salt-and-pepper beard. He wasn't in as good shape as Hank, of course, but he clearly took care of himself. Gary was tough but reasonable, a no-bullshitter at his core, but Hank was a model employee, so he was always friendly towards him.

"What's up, Hank?" Gary asked, leaning back into his chair. Despite the casual tone, Hank knew what Gary really meant was 'Hurry up and get this over with, I have too much work to do." So Hank cut to the chase.

"I need a new pair of pants, Gary." Hank said, using his boss's nickname. They weren't quite friends, but they were friendly enough.

Gary's eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean, Hank? Did they rip or something?"

"Nope!" Hank said, not yet at least. "They're just too small."

Gary was confused. Hank had been wearing the same standard issue uniform for several years now. Gary knew that Hank initially had trouble finding a pair of pants that fit - it was only natural, with glutes as large as his, but Hank hadn't raised any complaint. Until now.

"Small? Hank, you've been wearing those for ages. What, did your ass grow overnight or something?" Gary chuckled to himself at the ridiculous notion.

Hank forced himself to chuckle along with his boss. Little did Gary know... "Haha, I must be hitting leg day too hard," Hank replied, hoping to cover up his embarrassing new developments.

Gary thought to himself for a minute. "Hmm... Well Hank, those are the largest pair we have on hand. And I would prefer you don't go out there pantless. Listen, you got personal days you never take, how about you take the day off while I figure out what I can do?"

Hank didn't want to. He loved his job, loved the burn in his muscles, the sense of pride he took in keeping his community safe. But, he did need to figure out what was going on.

When Hank got home, he grabbed his ancient laptop. Typing in "ass grow overnight", he was shocked at the top search result.

And that was how he had made his first appointment at the clinic. And then found out there was an explanation for what had been happening to him.

The doctor had said he was in the earliest stages. "Increased gluteal development", he had said. Not severe yet, but he suggested Hank get a jump start on treatment.

Bill was off at martial arts class, so Hank took this opportunity to view the DVD given to him.

Hank couldn't believe his eyes. A handsome, muscular young man - close to Bill's age, was totally naked, talking about his condition. He sounded slightly robotic and paused in strange places, likely reading off cue cards.

He started talking about the symptoms. Gluteal development, check. Only this young jock had simply said "ass growth", which was likely an ad-lib. Then he began talking about an itch in his... in his hole?? And then... what the fuck? His ass got wet and secreted lube? This was insane.

When the young jock turned around, confirming that, yes, his pink tight little ring was twitching rhythmically while rivulets of a clear, lube-like substance dripped from his hole, down his taint, Hank almost shut the video off. But what he said next was so shocking it nearly fried Hank's brain.

Semen.

Cum, inside him.

That can't be right. That's insane, it doesn't make any sense! Why would cumming in somebody's ass make the symptoms better? It was too ridiculous to be real.

When the camera shifted over to a large black man - the same one that had been in the examination room with Hank - stood next to a high but wide table, covered with a cushion. The man himself was also completely nude. Hank's jaw dropped. The guy's penis... his dick... was ENORMOUS. How the hell did something like that exist? Even soft, it looked bigger than a ruler. Hank thought he himself was sizable, all of the men in his family were, but as the man's cock grew hard, growing slightly large, he realized the so-called 'nurse' had several inches on Hank already.

The young jock got up on the table, face down, raising his ass up, bringing it to the perfect head for the nurse to-

"NO!" Hank grabbed the remote and shot off the TV. What the hell was that? Hank didn't have any kind of hate towards gay people, it wasn't in his nature, but he certainly wasn't gay himself. The many many past female lovers proved that. He had no interest in watching gay porn. And why the hell had the doctor even given him gay porn to look at.

Rattled, Hank put the DVD back in its case and shelved it. He was on shaky legs as his entire worldview came crashing down. Something about that video disturbed him. The fact that the first few symptoms were accurate. The overnight ass growth, to a disproportionately large size. The way his cheeks even seemed a little sensitive when he grabbed them. Hank hoped to god that he wouldn't develop the next symptoms.

He went to bed, his mind racing.

Hank suddenly awoke. His room was pitch black. It was still night. 3 A.M., in fact. What woke him up was a strange sensation. In his groin or, more accurately, behind groin. More like his-

Throb

Hank's heart nearly stopped. The throbbing came from his... his... asshole. He hoped that it was an anomaly, but the throbbing continued. He remembered what that teen jock had said on the video.

The throbbing began increasing in both frequency and intensity. Hank tried to fight it, but it was a biological reaction, as natural as your leg kicking when your knee is wacked by your doctor.

The pamphlet!

Hank remembered the pamphlet he had been given. And he never did finish watching the video. And the mysterious case! The doctor said 'when you are ready', well if now isn't the time then when is!

The father of three stumbled out of bed and walked to the door, where he had placed the mysterious case, holding himself up against the wall to stop himself from stumbling. He sank to the floor, and when he did, he felt a very strange sensation coming from his hole. It felt wet and... a little warm. At first Hank worried he had some kind of accident. But that wasn't the case. He touched his fingers to his hole and then examined them. It was clear, viscous, with a sweet smell, it was very slippery. To Hank's horror, the substance reminded him of all the time he'd fucked women, the way he'd turn them on and their bodies would react accordingly.

Hoping there was some kind of further instructions or explanation in the case, Hank yanked it open... and immediately dropped it to the floor in shock. It hit the floor with a CLATTER, and Hank's mind was too blank to even register if the sound had woken up one of his sons.

Inside the case, as one familiar with Jock Pussy Syndrome might expect, were three smooth dildos of an impressive size and girth. The smallest one, in fact, was a footlong, and as thick as a pop can. The other two increased in length by 2 inches each, and also grew fatter. The largest one was nearly the length and girth of Hank's forearm.

Hank recoiled at the thought of putting something like that in his butt. He wasn't gay! That was insane! But the more he stared at the 'medical instruments', the more his hole twitched, and the more of that shiny clear fluid dripped out of his hole. By this point, the back of his boxers were completely soaked.

He tried to fight it, he really did. But there are some things that can cause even the strongest wills to crumble. There simply is nothing that can withstand the deep, primal need of a Jock Pussy in heat, the craving that sets your entire body on fire with a HUNGER, a hunger for cock, a hunger for cum.

Many men have justified it to themselves. Curiosity. Or that it is simply a medical issue. Not wanting to admit that when their JPS emerged, it irrevocably changed their body chemistry and anatomy. Their anal cavities become more elastic, their holes become stretchier and are able to snap back into shape with ease, a hunger that was a throb radiating from his pussy to the rest of his body. A Jock Pussy felt it in his cunt, of course, but also in his stomach, a sense of emptiness, a craving for a specific food, of wanting to be full and stuffed full of milky white, boiling hot baby batter.

Their minds transform. Much like a thirst is a nagging feeling in their head, one that makes it hard to focus, one that is higher priority than any other task at hand, the craving overtakes their minds. Gone are game plays, video games, their studies, work, PTA meetings and even girls. They become hyper focused on what they lack, what they need: cum. Jizz. Baby batter. Fresh from the source. The only way to make it stop was to give into what your body needs.

And in that very moment, all of those changes were happening to Hank. Even though he had initially recoiled at the dildos, he was now staring at the smallest one, transfixed. His body felt jittery, but most importantly he felt EMPTY. There was something wrong. No, not these strange sensations, not the fact that his already meaty bubble butt had doubled in size. No, what was wrong was that his pussy was HOLLOW and it needed to be STUFFED!

I'm sure in that moment, if Hank were even slightly self aware, he would be screaming at himself to stop. But instead, his thoughts were only consumed by the very obvious means of satisfying his anal hunger presented before him.

Grabbing the dildo, Hank felt its weight and girth. How long it was. A dick the size of a ruler. He didn't have any thoughts of 'how will this fit inside me?' or 'is this going to hurt'. No the only thought he had was:

I NEED IT IN ME.

PUT IT INSIDE.

SO EMPTY, NEED TO FEEL FULL.

And that's why Hank brought the dildo to his hole, now merrily burping out cuntjuice in preparation for the impaling it so deeply craved. That's why he slathered the fake cock with his cunt juice, making sure it was slick and wet. And that's certainly why he wasted no time getting that dildo inside himself.

It barely took any effort. Just one slight push, and the fake cockhead breached his pussy lips. There was no pain, only the growing inkling of satisfaction. After that, Hank's pussy practically acted on its own. It sucked up the rest of the dildo, feeding itself inch after inch. Within seconds, the entire length was buried to the hilt inside this formerly straight man's man.

Hank wasn't sure if he moaned. He probably did. But that wasn't important. Instead, what was important, was the fact that he was stuffed full of cock in his hungry tight little daddy pussy. He nearly cried out in joy. It was like the puzzle pieces fell into place. THIS is what he needed. THIS is what he was built for. Nothing in his life had ever felt so right as that moment.

Grabbing the base, Hank laid down on his back on the floor, and started pumping the dildo in and out of his sloppy pussy. He used his powerful arms to SLAM the instrument in and out, churning up his own guts, making droplets of pussy juice fling onto the floor and walls. His entire body was wired to this pleasure, his back arched, his head thrown back, tongue hanging out, eyes rolling back.

MY PUSSY IS SO FULL.

He may have moaned that out loud, or maybe it was just the voice in his head, the one that made him reconsider his entire life. What was the point of living before this? All of his life, up to that point felt dull and gray in comparison to the absolute explosions of pleasure that rippled throughout his entire being.

Using two hands, Hank couldn't get the dildo in fast enough, pumping in and out like a piston, fucking himself with force. He lifted his hips up to arrange his hole more vertically, allowing gravity to help reach the deepest parts of his cunt.

But it couldn't.

NO NO NO NO NO NO.

Hank nearly cried in frustration. It wasn't ENOUGH.

And then he remembered. There were two more dildos in that case.

Grabbing the next size up, he lined it up with his cunt, and this time it sank even more easily into his pussy than the previous one. It was sucked up like his hole was a vacuum. As his cunt felt satisfied again, curiosity took over Hank and he brought the used dildo to his lips, tongue sticking out, and gave it one long stroke of his tongue.

Some addicts can point to a specific moment where they know they become addicted. The first bump of coke, or first time they shoot up. In a similar way, Hank will never forget the first time he tasted his own pussy juice.