Leave it to Mama (Comm)
 
"I'm home..." Peter said meekly as he entered his house and closed the door behind him, walking in a listless manner with his face down.
 
"Hello, sweetie! How was your day?" His mother Susan asked, happily.
 
"It was fine..." He answered, going straight to his room.
 
"No, no, no, you haven't been your usual self for the last weeks!" His mother got up from the couch and stood before him, blocking his way with her hands on her waist. "You're going to tell me everything that's happening and you're going to do that now, young man!"
 
"It's nothing, mom!" The boy answered, his tone betraying that there really was something off, which Susan was quick to detect.
 
"Now that won't do," His mother said before gasping. "What is that mark on your shoulder?"
 
"Nothing...!"
 
"Where is the watch I gave you?"
 
"I...I lost it...!"
 
Susan stared down at her son, slightly resentful of his lies.
 
"You're not speaking the truth. Somebody took it from you. And somebody hit you too. Tell me, Peter, are you being bullied?"
 
"N-No!" The boy looked away, to hide his expression.
 
"Peter!" Susan exclaimed, frustrated.
 
"Fine! I am being bullied! This boy at school, Stephen, is always taking my stuff and hitting me! He takes my lunch money and books, pulls my hair, and twists my wrists and, and..."
 
"Stephen?" His mother gasped again. "I thought you two were friends!"
 
"He pretends to be my friend when the adults and the teachers are looking, but whenever we're alone, he pushes me around and calls me names and..." But Peter couldn't continue, for the tears came and he sobbed intensely.
 
"Oh, dear!" Susan hugged her child, his head pressing against her large boobs. "Forgive me, I didn't know!"
 
"Mom!" The boy cried out but couldn't add anything more to his story.
 
"Don't you worry, I'm going to show that vile little demon of a boy that he can't mess with my son!" His mother said, decidedly.
 
"No! Don't!" The boy suddenly grew desperate.
 
"What's wrong? Don't you want him to be punished?"
 
"But if he knows I told you about the things he does, he'll hurt me twice as bad tomorrow!" The boy cried some more just at the thought of that.
 
"Oh, believe me, sweetie, he'll have his own problems to deal with, and won't have the time or the spirit to mistreat you any further. I'll let his parents into their son's behavior, and if they don't promise me they'll control their fiend I'll go to the school principal and get him severely punished!" There was a fire in her eyes as she spoke, almost as if Susan could already picture the hellish punishments that would be bestowed upon her son's tormentor by the ironhanded principal.
 
"His parents...? No, you don't understand!" The boy was almost jumping from terror. "They say in school that his father..."
 
"Never mind what they say in school!" Susan cut her son off before kissing his forehead. "Mommy's going to have a talk with Stephen's father, and she's going to do it now. Be good while I'm away, okay? I'll be back for dinner."
 
"Mom!" Peter tried to stop her, but she closed the door on his face. "I only hope this doesn't get me into more trouble..."
 
As Susan walked towards Stephen's house, her determination and anger kept building up. To think that polite boy was actually a bully tormenting her son! The little devil had done a good job making a fool of everyone, even her! Unforgivable!
 
Susan didn't consider herself an angry person, much to the contrary, she saw herself as very peaceful. The only thing was that she couldn't tolerate being treated poorly or having Peter suffer any injustice. She didn't look for conflict, it was a conflict that looked for her! Like that time at the restaurant, when her food arrived warm instead of hot. She had asked the waiter for extra hot food, warm just wouldn't do! So what, if she threatened to sue the whole place and pressured all the other customers into leaving? It was her right!
 
Or that time a teacher of Peter's made a mistake and gave him a 9.6 on the exam instead of the 9.7 he deserved? Well, of course, she went to the school to complain, and made a scene when the teacher told her it had been "only a small mistake"! Oh, how she made them apologize, she almost put them on their knees! Such a shame she got them fired though, as Peter seemed to like them a lot. Oh well, to make an omelet, you sometimes had to break a few eggs, was what Susan always said.
 
There was also that time at the waterpark, or that one at the mall, or at the movie theater, or at little Margaret's house, well, the list went on and on, but what was the problem with that? People were too silly and shy, never fitting for their rights, but Susan wasn't like that. She always made sure to always get everything that she deserved, nothing more, nothing less.
 
When not facing one of her "injustices", Susan was quite the agreeable woman. It would be unfair to call her anything except hard-working, for she raised her son all by herself even if it meant taking care of the house while also doing all sorts of jobs to earn their daily bread. She was also quite beautiful, even though by this stage of her life she was what one would call a mature woman.
 
Her hair was brown and short, her eyes were dark but had a light to them that showed an active and creative mind, especially when sern through her pair of glasses, and her face could put many a young woman's to shame. And her body, well, it was incredibly shapely too. Her legs were long and well-formed, her butt firm and sizeable, and her breasts were a pair of bouncing giants that made several heads turn when she passed by, each being about the size of the woman's head.
 
But her body was also a source of trouble for her. It had led to Peter's birth, which was a blessing of course, but the man who had put him in her womb was an unreliable, womanizing rascal. She frequently had to change jobs due to fights with coworkers who threw glances or made commentaries under their breaths which were utterly condemnable.
 
Such was the woman walking towards Stephen's residence with righteous anger in her heart and daggers in her staring eyes. It only now came to her that there was a possibility of the boy's parents knowing how much of a blackguard their son was, but being either negligent or supportive of his dastardly behavior. This thought makes the MILF shake from fury. Unacceptable! Completely unacceptable! She'd let Stephen's father have a bit of her mind, she sure would!
 
But she had finally arrived, and so, the time had come to turn thought into action. She rang the doorbell with what she believed was justified urgency and heard a man's angry voice yell something from inside the house. Then there was the sound of this same voice muttering and grumbling as the man approached, and finally, the door was opened.
 
"What do ya want?" The man asked bluntly.
 
Susan stared a blinked, speechless for the first time in her life. The man who addressed her was average enough, not ugly but not handsome either, dressed in a poor manner with slacker shorts and an old shirt of faded grey. The only thing in him that set him a bit apart was the fact that he had a bit of a rather fat and round potbelly. Otherwise, he was quite forgettable, so why did his hostile expression give Susan such a sense of unimaginable danger? She shook those thoughts off and started, much more tamely than she had pictured it when coming to the house:
 
"You see sir, it's about Stephen. He and my son Peter are schoolmates and, well, Stephen has been behaving most alarmingly towards my son. You're Stephen's father, correct? Perhaps I could come in and talk with you and Stephen's mother for a bit..."
 
"His mother? Try the sewers to get in touch with that one, heh!" The man chuckled loudly, Susan missing the source of the hilarity. He then eyed the bespectacled MILF up and down, and she thought she saw him lick his lips. "But hey, you have arrived just in time for lunch! Come right in so we can 'talk' and all that!"
 
Susan obeyed rather meekly and the man closed the door behind her, laughing.
 
 
 
A bit later that day, Stephen went to the living room.
 
"Hey Dad, have you seen that new watch I got? Can't find it anywh-"
 
 
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUURP!
 
But the boy was interrupted by a thunderous, earth-shaking belch. He stared at the figure of his father with jaws agape.
 
"Dammit kid, haven't I told you before to never bother me when I'm eating?" The man grunted and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
 
Protruding from the man's middle section was the clear shape of a woman trapped inside his stomach. It was clearly a tight and strong prison, for not only her movements were very limited, but all of her struggling and muffled protesting didn't seem to be causing him any trouble. He smacked the woman's ass through his belly and belched again as she squealed, scandalized.
 
"Fuck, she was good," The man grumbled.
 
"You really got her, Dad! Who was she?"
 
"None of your business. Now get lost, I want to finish my beer!" And the boy obeyed, knowing his father was not a man to be crossed, although he went away giggling the whole way to his room. "That boy is such a piece of work! I don't know where he got that from, must have been from that cow of a mother."
 
The man took another sip of his beer, which he had drunk halfway through when his son arrived before. He swayed his hips, making his belly shake in pendular fashions, sloshing noises, satisfied groans and more protests coming from it.
 
"Heh, but if every kid he bullies has a mother like this one, I hope he keeps causing a whole lot of trouble! Ain't that right, lunch?" He smacked his belly again, sending ripples through the soft white surface and its prisoner cried out in desperation and he chuckled.
 
The man settled down on the couch to watch TV and as he distracted himself with the sports channel, the voluptuous woman inside him was steadily softened, melted, and crushed into a thick broth, the feeling of fullness and an occasional belch the only reminder that she was even there in the first place, especially when the belch proved more substantial than expected.
 
Soon enough, the woman had been completely turned into greasy mush, which started being pumped into the complex system of pipes which are the human intestines. Stephen's father leaned sideways and released a long, airy and loud fart.
 
"Phew, bitch's talkative all of a sudden. Anything else you wanna say?"
 
 
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT!
 
 
"Couldn't have said it better myself, haha!"
 
 
Eventually, though, he became aware that the time had come to part ways with his "lunch" so, getting up awkwardly from the couch, he made his way lazily to the bathroom like an enormous bloated frog and said his goodbyes to the once beautiful visitor.
 
 
...
 
 
Susan didn't return for dinner that night. In fact, neither did she return for breakfast the next morning. Peter thought it'd be better to just walk to the bus stop on his own, and catching the school bus, went on his way full of fears and apprehensions.
 
In school, he was soon disturbed by the sight of Stephen approaching him with his evil smirk, which was perhaps more insidious that day than Peter had ever seen it. The malicious boy held something in his hand, which he was hiding on his back. Peter closed his eyes, expecting a sucker punch that never came.
 
"Hey, Pete," Stephen simply said instead, his tone playful but not angry. Had Peter's mother failed to talk to his father, after all? The boy looked at his bully nervously, awaiting some ingenious new cruelty on his part. "Your mom and my dad had a talk and, well..."
 
Stephen showed the hand he had been hiding behind his back or, more specifically, showed the object which held in it. Peter was startled, for it was a pair of eyeglasses, heavily damaged but which the boy would recognize anywhere. Stephen dropped them on Peter's own hand and he kept staring at them as if in a dream.
 
"Dad burped it out and told me I'd better give it to you as a sort of, well, he used a funny word. Momento, I think, or at least something like that. Anyway, catch you later, alligator!" And having said that, Stephen gave his "friend" some pats on the back which were perhaps way too strong and walked away cheerfully.
 
Peter just stood there, staring at the ruined spectacles, unable to say a word or utter a cry of reaction.