Milftrap Mayhem PART 1

A small town, and connected to it an even smaller suburb. It was a bright, cheerful day, late in the morning. Birds were chirping, insects were buzzing, and not a cloud was in the sky. The sun blazed merrily in the sky. Even though summer had only just begun the temperature could very easily be described as sweltering. Heat baked into the pavement of the sidewalks and the asphalt of the road, rising back up in wavering lines.

In one house in that small suburb in particular a young boy was just waking up. One bleary eye opened, then another, but shutting tightly against the light filtering past his blinds. The young boy rolled over onto his side, cocooning himself into his bed sheets, and snuggled down. A smile tugged at his lips. The warmth of the bed contrasted against the cool air of the air conditioning, making him drowsy. Sleep beckoned the young boy, but he reluctantly unraveled himself from the sheets and slipped out from under them.

The boy was startled into full wakefulness at the chill of the floor on his feet. He raced to the bathroom, not exactly eager to brush his teeth but fully aware that his mother would grill him about whether or not he had done it. He brushed as quickly as he could and then ran downstairs, skipping every other stair in his excitement. He rounded the corner and ran into the kitchen, where his mother was sitting drinking some orange juice.

“Morning, Mom!” the boy cried cheerfully before rummaging in the pantry at high speeds for his favorite cereal.

“Oh my, good morning sleepyhead,” she responded, hiding her grin behind her glass of juice.

Although the young boy was completely normal in every way, his mother was anything but. A large, felt rabbit, dirty yellow. An animatronic with exposed bits of metal peeking out of holes in her costume, and the gentle curve of a very feminine jawline coming from the bottom of her suit’s head, skin pale and mottled with what looked like dried blood.

Springtrap, some would call her. There were differences between her appearance and what one would expect, though. For one, she was much curvier. She had a large, heavy bosom and hips that could only be described as motherly. Sitting down as she was, the chub of her stomach was visible through her loose t-shirt, one that was sticking to her breasts with artificial sweat and slightly see-through from the moisture. If one stared long enough they could make out the sensible dark bra she wore underneath.

“Are you excited for your first day of summer vacation, Anon?” Springtrap said.

Anon nodded his head as fast as he could while he chewed his cereal. Springtrap laughed at him.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said,” Could you help me out in the back garden later? I was working out there earlier, but it’s just so hot that I got forced back inside.”

Anon, mouth still full, nodded his head again. His eyes followed his mother’s hand as it fanned her, and continued following it as it dropped down to her shirt and pulled at the neckline. Anon’s eyes went wide. His gaze was glued to his mother’s cleavage. Unbidden, his eyes zeroed in on a drop of artificial sweat as it slid down her chest. It trickled down slowly, achingly slow, before it disappeared out of sight in between his mother’s breasts.

Anon was brought back to reality when his mother called his name. He tore his gaze from Springtrap’s chest and swallowed the mush of cereal in his mouth. Throat suddenly very dry, he grabbed his juice and gulped down a big swallow of it. Then, he turned and looked back at his mom. “Sorry, Mom. What was that?”

Springtrap frowned at him. “I asked you if you’d be alright by yourself for a little while here. I need to head to the store and get some more coolant for myself. I’ve just about sweated all of mine out.”

The memory of watching just that flashed in Anon’s mind, but he shook it away before it could take root. Anon puffed his chest with pride. “Yeah, of course I can!”

His mother giggled at him. “Well, okay then. Just watch some cartoons or something while I’m gone.” Springtrap drained the rest of her orange juice and got up. She dumped the glass in the sink and strode out of the kitchen, making a quick pit stop to give Anon a peck on the cheek. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone,” she said over her shoulder.

Anon couldn’t answer, transfixed on Springtrap’s swaying hips. Her butt was shaped perfectly by her tight leggings. It clung to her lower body, doing nothing to hide the jiggle in each cheek that every step caused. The thin fabric rustled lightly, her thick thighs brushed against each other with every step. Anon hurriedly grabbed his glass of juice and drained it dry as his mother rounded the corner and out of sight.  Then he bolted for the sofa and leapt over the back, landing with a hard bounce on its cushions.

The television was turned on and the channel changed to one playing cartoons. Anon tried to take his mind off of his mother. He desperately tried not to think of her wide hips, extra soft from all the plush padding, swung back and forth as she walked. With all his might he forced himself to forget the way her chest jiggled with every move she made. Every fiber of his being stomped down the memory of her large thighs and her slightly pudgy stomach.

He failed.

Anon changed positions on the sofa so that he was lying down, then grabbed a pillow and muffled his groan of frustration. Why was he thinking of his mom like that? He’d never noticed those things about anyone before, least of all her. Anon was so confused. What did it all mean?

The cartoon marathon continued blaring from the television, completely ignored.