His Futa Auntie

"SHhhhhhhhh, it's okay, it's okay," whispered Mrs Bennet, embracing James in a big hug and kissing him on both wet cheeks, and once on the forehead for good measure.

"S...stop it," he whimpered, although he felt his shoulders and head sag into his mother's arms.

"It's for your own good," she said softly, before giving him a final peck on the cheek.

"Now off you pop to bed young man, it's almost eleven!."

He gave a furious sob and stormed off, cheeks thumping together like someone was smacking raw meat with a firm hand.

"Goodnight Shnoogums! Don't forget your prayers."

"Goodnight Poogums, I-I won't.." he snivelled, unable to refuse his Mother the affection she always gave to him.

He wished he could be as close with Dad, he thought whilst closing the bedroom door. Father had always been a tough nut to crack, and unfortunately James wasn't any good at being masculine...or cracking nuts, or indeed physical activities of any kind. The workout videos had never really improved his strength or stamina either. Just his ass... those huge round globes that followed him like giant suns that caught people in their glare, announced him to every room he walked into.

He lay back on his bed and pictures slipped into his mind unbidden; the women from the workout video, except they were all here in his room (imagining a beach or outdoor area made him anxious, and sunlight didn't agree with his skin.) He imagined touching their breasts whilst Terrance watched, his crotch bulge close to where James was sitting. James lingered before putting the pictures from his mind.

'Don't be a sinner.'

He needed to focus on his prayers.

James did so for a few minutes, praying to keep his family safe, to keep food on their table, and then to perhaps give him a girlfriend if it wasn't too much to ask.... his eyes opened and he lay back in bed. That was starting to seem like a miracle that even Jesus couldn't conjure.

After a while of lying in bed, his eyes closed, and he drifted off.

***

James was still in his room, but the workout video girls were there, and so was Terrance. Everything was warm, his skin, his belly... and then Terrance had gone, but the bulge was still there, and now every woman had Terrance's bulge, and they were rubbing it on his legs, his chest......

Maybe he should tell them to stop, James thought as he rubbed a woman's bulge and touched another's breasts with his feet which were also hands, and suddenly he had hands everywhere, but they were all tiny, and he couldn't reach all the beautiful women with bulges clamouring to touch him..... God it was so hot, it felt like a sauna...

***

James mewled in frustration and woke up, gasping.

It was morning, and the first thing he felt was the heat shimmering through the curtains. It must be blazing outside to be so warm in here. There was another, more intimate warmth on his belly. He moved, and whimpered.

He'd done it again.

Pulling back the covers revealed a slick wet patch on his sheets. A grimace came to his face. Why did this keep happening?

James sighed and began removing the sheets. Having searched this on the internet, he now knew the word for it was 'wet dream,' and he had carefully avoided further research, afraid of what he might find.

It wasn't just his seed which had stained the sheets, as he looked down at huge sweat patches covering the bed. In fact he was still sweating, and he wiped his brow, feeling the liquid on it.

'God it wasn't this hot yesterday,' he thought as he waddled to the bathroom and cleaned himself up.

A shower helped to rid him of the feeling of dirtiness, although it was still so sweltering that he ended up forgoing his usual outfit for the day entirely and just slipping on a pair of briefs.

'Mum and Dad wouldn't want me to overheat in this weather,' he thought to himself, although exactly why a t-shirt would make such a difference he could not necessarily answer, idly tweaking his nipples as he set to work on changing his bedsheets.

Housework always seemed to calm him, and after a few minutes a pile of dirty sheets lay in the laundry basket, his bed now spotless in silky white sheets.

'I'd make a great house husband..... That'll show my Dad, when girls realise how manly I am', he thought whilst furiously fidgeting with his pink nubs which were now aching.

He could do the laundry, iron dresses, scour the kitchen floor... He had almost perfected his scrubbing motion, and sometimes liked to watch videos of women in maid outfits for refence, learning their gyrating motions off by heart.

Padding downstairs the first thing he noticed was his mother sweating as she put the phone down, although whether this was solely because of the heat or not he was unable to say.

"Hey Poogums,"

"Hi Shnoogums,"

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh... Sorry Shnoogums, I was on the phone to ... to Auntie Sheila... just trying to discuss a few house rules that needed clarifying.... N...Nothing to worry about."

He nodded, and then his face fell as he looked at the table and realised that his Mother hadn't made breakfast.

"That's... that's okay Mum," he mumbled, cushioning himself onto the chair. He sometimes got a bit cranky when his mother didn't prepare meals, and it didn't help that she had steadfastly refused to let him near the stove since the time he'd tried to boil an egg and nearly set fire to the kitchen.

The colour didn't return to Mrs Bennet's cheeks as she grabbed a cereal box and began pouring oats.

Mr Bennet peered in and his jaw clenched.

"James... why are you not weari-"

"Graham, leave him be, it's hard for Shnoogums, he'll be all hot and bothered in this weather," sang Mrs Bennet, eyeing her boy dotingly, and Mr Bennet fell silent, retreating to the living room with an odious look at his son sitting expectantly in his briefs, waiting for his mother to feed him.

They ate in silence, and then his Mum got up and busied herself with travel arrangements whilst James tidied up the bowls and wiped the counter clean. He daydreamed about getting the right cleaning action to scrub the bowls to a mean shine, and gave a jealous look at the dishwasher... if it weren't for all this modern technology he'd be front of the queue for women needing a man around the house, especially when bending over to get those really tough spots. He wandered upstairs after he was finished and spent the next hour flicking through different dusters and cleaning products on his laptop.

"Wow... the XD Vacuum looks incredible, the suction power....three hundred and seventy air Watts!..."

He hovered over the 'add to cart' button before closing the laptop wistfully. Maybe another day. For now he had to do his chores without his wish-list.

The rest of the day was spent making beds, doing laundry, scrubbing floors and wiping surfaces. His parents had soon figured out that even when they told him not to it was impossible to prevent him scouring every surface in the house, and his father had resigned himself to his son sneaking in at any moment to douse the living room carpet in cleaning spray, or perhaps wander into the bedroom sporting an apron and feather duster.

By six-pm his arms were aching, and he fell to bed after dinner, satisfied. Tomorrow he could start on the attic, which hadn't been cleaned in nearly a month! He dreaded to think what would await him up there... As he drifted off he briefly remembered that Aunty Sheila would be arriving tomorrow... He imagined a clone of his mother, loving, but similarly protective, and huffed, turning into an uneasy sleep.

***

The engine whined, spluttering as gears were wrenched into places they didn't want to go.

"Fuckin piece o' shit."

People stopped and stared at the rusted Cadillac that had no right being on the road. Huge strips of paint were worn or scraped off entirely in what looked like multiple road accidents including a failed attempt to dodge a wrecking ball.

Tires squealed on the tarmac as it shot from its resting position, almost mowing down a woman with the temerity to have one foot lingering on the crossing. She yelled as the junkbox raced away, weaving between cars and missing by millimetres, car horns blaring in its wake.

People looking to the driver's seat would catch a glimpse of bleach-blond hair, buzz-cut close to the skull as it whipped past, but little more than that.

Soon the Cadillac reached James' neighbourhood and slowed to a relative crawl of five miles over the limit.

People who happened to be looking out of their window at that exact moment stared, caught in a trance if they saw the figure inside clearly, gawping at the middle-class equivalent of a nightmare.

A figure with blond hair shaved in a military buzz-cut sat with her muscled arm hanging lazily out of the window, the colour contrasting heavily with her bronzed skin that seemed to have been open to the sun for years. She was huge, easily taking up the car space to the point where it looked almost like a toy, and her lips were as juicy and kissable as her jawline was intimidating. A silver bull ring hung from her nose which, combined with her aggressive expression made it look like she was on the verge of headbutting whatever she deigned to look at. What made this sight even more provocative was the fact that her healthy cheeks and long lashed eyes were quite pleasing on the eye, and the juxtaposition of femininity and raw aggression had people's heads spinning as she flew down the road.

People froze in the middle of opening their curtains, collecting their mail or trimming their hedges as they glimpsed the bull-woman scanning through the large white houses, but Sheila took no notice, resting a heavily muscled arm out of the window and pounding down the residential streets in fourth gear.

Eventually she seemed to spot what she was looking for, and her expression turned into one of excitement as she turned the bucket of bolts screeching into the driveway of number 32 on Pendon street, coming to a rest in a small dust cloud of burnt rubber.

Subtlety had never been Sheila's strong suite.

James heard the screeching and ran to the window, gasping as he peered down for the first look at his new babysitter.

Even though the Cadillac was spacious, it looked like the woman could barely fit inside it, and James murmured as she stepped out to her full height.

Her head was close to the neighbour's basketball net, and whenever she moved the sun reflected off the swell of bronzed muscles ripped across every inch of her body, shining off the piercings adorning it, mainly on her lips, ears and nose. The things that didn't move in any way were her tits, huge bolt-on monstrosities that, whilst in proportion, drew the eye in a way that most certainly wouldn't be considered Christian, with obvious nipple piercings pressing through a tight black tank top. She sniffed the air like a wolf, eyes set on the entrance to their home.

'Is that really her?.....'

James felt the hairs on every inch of his body flick upwards, (not that there was anything lengthy to speak of below his neck), and his heartbeat began to pound in his ears as he stared at yoga shorts that seemed welded onto her gigantic ass, thighs like tree-trunks that had been uprooted and brought under her spell. The pants were under pressure from so much ass and muscle mass that he had no idea how she had squeezed into them in the first place. She took a moment to scratch her underarms and his toes curled as he saw armpit hair under her wide shoulders.

He had to rub his eyes to check he wasn't dreaming.

Mother had said she had been in prison. 'For what?' he wondered.

*BANG* BANG* *BANG*

The knocks on the door sounded like a horse was kicking it in, and James heard his Mother hurry down the hallway to open it.

He crept across the landing to check that he hadn't hallucinated what he had seen, and sure enough when he peered down past the banister he was greeted to the sight of his Mother sporting what seemed like an attempt at a smile but instead was coming out as more of a pained wince, staring up at the huge figure on the porch.

"H..How are you dear? So lovely to see you.... I see you have some new ah... accessories," she stammered, staring at the studded ears and nose.

"I'm fuckin' great Sis... and thanks, got most of them in prison."

Her voice was deep, a rumbling sound that he could feel alongside the butterflies in his belly. James put his hand to his stomach to calm them.

Sheila gave his mother a rough hug and he could see his mother wince as she did so, wrinkling her nose at the 'natural' odours

"You seem... well," she said, making sure to back away just enough to avoid any possibilities of being hugged again.

Sheila began striding around, peering at family pictures and other objects before discarding them carelessly.

"Yeah... prison was fun, made a LOT of friends there.... reckon Sammy will miss me especially."

She smiled like she'd just told a funny joke.

"Uh.. Sammy? A uh... friend of yours?"

She laughed, a huge sound that filled the air.

"Oh FUCK no! He was my bitch, face like a pig but that ass....."

She closed her eyes, stretching her hubcap hands out in front of her like she was squeezing something only she could see.

Mrs Bennet's face went so white she might have been a reanimated body.

"Right.... Well, good to t-turn over a new leaf yes?"

"Huh?" said Sheila absent-mindedly, coming back from a place of pleasure and looking around the house once more with an approving eye, almost knocking over an ornate vase which his Mother swiftly grabbed and placed back on its perch.

James continued to stare, unnoticed. Now that he could properly look at his Aunt, he found himself fascinated. She seemed cramped inside their house, like an adult walking through a children's playground. Close up he could see each strand of her leg muscles, expanding and contracting as she strutted around their hallway like a hundred living creatures were working in tandem to propel her gigantic frame. Her nipple piercings were headlights attracting the eye just as much as her gorgeous lips. So many signals were worming their way into his brain that his fight or flight responses had kicked in, and he remained frozen like a gazelle staring from the bushes.

"Nice place."

"Yes... we moved fifteen years ago... just after you...."

His Mother fell silent and closed the door. Not knowing what to do with her hands she busied them by re-arranging the shoe-rack.

"What, became a woman?..... or went to prison."

Mrs Bennet didn't seem to know what to say to this.

"A.....After we... last saw you," she stammered.

"Right," said Sheila. "So... Where's the squirt?"

A note of eagerness crept into her voice.

"Well, I think we should go through the ground rules first...."

Sheila growled and rounded on his mother, and James was painfully aware of the size difference between the two figures as she towered over his Mother.

"Told ya I don't do rules."

His eyes opened wide as his Mother moved forwards until her chin was almost touching the breasts of her sister, with a determined look on her face.

"You will where my son is involved, or you can get out of my house. I'm sure your criminal record will make fine reading for anyone brave enough to hire you."

James' mouth clanged open, and he watched as the two figures sized each other up, consumed with simmering aggression.

Then Sheila, to his amazement, backed down.

"Fine," she snarled. "But I'm not doing any of that prayer shit... I'm guessing you have him nice and converted huh?

As if by magic, his Mother was back to her comforting self.

"He's quite enamoured with our Lord, so he won't need your help on that count."

Sheila's eyes rolled, before casting their way around every inch of the house, searching, and as she turned towards the stairs James saw something..... something that clutched his attention in an iron grip.

Auntie Sheila's crotch was sporting a bulge that he couldn't equate to anything human. The shape was massive, like an Ostrich's egg crammed into the front of her shorts. It was not round but oddly mishappen, like a meaty wand stuffed in there, curled up and waiting to be released. He didn't know how he could have missed it the first time, and it was so difficult to understand that he turned his head sideways. His entire being was focused on trying to work this problem out, digest it, take it in.

Then he looked up into deep brown eyes lasering straight into his own.

Every inch of his body came alive, trying to hide behind its neighbouring organ. He choked as Auntie Sheila's eyes flickered, pupils going wide to absorb the darkness surrounding James. If they could have spoken a language, they would have screamed hunger.

"Hello there," breathed Sheila, taking a step towards the staircase.

"Ah Shnoogums, there you are darling... This... is your Auntie Sheila.."

His mother gestured to the figure who had her eyes on him and wasn't blinking.

James couldn't get words out. She was a tiger, and he was prey.

She took another step.

Sheila growled and James' mouth went dry, and he staggered backward, turning to scramble across the landing.

"Oh...What the fuck is that," uttered Sheila, eyes like saucers as she watched an ass beyond her wildest fantasies jiggling away into the darkness.

Then it started to clap and saliva drenched Sheila's mouth as James ran trembling to his room.

She had one foot on the stairs without even realising it, breathing heavily and snorting as she prepared to charge after him and it was only when her sister gave a sniped order that she halted.

"SHEILA!"

She froze with her hand gripping the banister so hard that a tiny crack hinted at wood being crunched inwards beneath her white-knuckled bear paws.

Her foot came off the staircase and, using every inch of will she possessed, turned away from her young Nephew, to face her sister.

"You will take care of him, do you understand?"

"....yes."

'That boy is mine,' she thought.

"You are to keep him safe."

"Of course."

'I'll make him squeal.'

"And you are not, under any circumstances... to touch him. Do you understand?"

Sheila cracked her knuckles.

"Sure."

'I will bury my cock in his ass.'

Mrs Bennet cast one careful eye over her sister, before brushing past her and up the staircase.

A soft knocking came at James's door.

"Shnoogums?"

James was trembling. He was so erect and his head couldn't stop seeing that bulge. It was like the image was stuck there.

"Y-yes?"

Mrs Bennet pressed the door open and smiled down at her boy, sitting in the centre of his room.

"Will you be alright son? I know Auntie Sheila is not a um.... regular family guest, but you'll call me if anything's wrong, right?"

"Yes," he whispered.

His mother's face creased in concern at how much he was trembling.

"Shnoogums... if this is too much... We can cancel the honeymoon, it's just a week and I know your father would not want you to be upset..."

James felt the tiny freedoms he could have slipping away and forced the words out from somewhere inside.

"N-NO! I will be fine. Auntie Sheila seems w..." he paused, took a breath and continued. ".w....wonderful."

Mrs Bennet's eyebrows rose but she said nothing.

".... Fine, well... I love you Shnoogums, come here."

He got up and allowed her to hug him, kiss him on the cheeks and forehead, and tweak his chin.

"Have fun, don't forget to pray, and be good."

"I will Mother."

She beamed at him and bustled out of his room.

"Right ... come along honey!"

Mr Bennet emerged from the living room and did a triple take at Sheila, who snorted at him.

"Right honey.. oh yes, hello Sheila...."

She didn't respond, which was more than enough chat for Mr Bennet, who grabbed the last bags and scurried to the car.