BBBBBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPHHHHHHTTTTTTT!!!!!!

“Breath that up sweetie, my meetings are starting soon and mommy hates it when her farts make it through.” Said the purple skunk woman, her massive, 8’6'' hourglass figure nestled deeply into her upholstered home office chair, the cushy white cushioning strained against the sheer width of her hips and rotund rear, each cheek bigger than given a beach ball and given that extra bit of pop thanks to the black latex shorts she loved to wear at home.

Courtney Bonaparte was a career-oriented girl and always has been. It was hard for a purple skunk woman to make it in the corporate world, but she had managed to carve herself into the body of Up-Log Inc. like she was using a steak knife. At the age of 39 (and without a lick of corporate nepotism), Courtney was already in an upper leadership position in corporate communications and was following the line for department head if she played her cards right.

Despite Courtney's religious dedication to her career, she took great care of her appearance. Her shimmering purple fur practically sheened in her home office’s light, which she perfectly complemented her pinstripe vest, forest green tie, and a simple light grey button-down. The skunk woman’s sharp emerald eyes pierced through her half-frame glasses, cresting past her upturned, skunk-like nose and onto her monitors.

“Mhm!!!” Groaned an alien sound right under Courtney, the meager utterance reverberating through the vice that is her thighs and into dark purple-covered, upturned skunk ears. Courtney was a career girl for sure, but she was also a mother. Orin, the 19-year-old, 3’9” rabbit boy was a small thin thing, his light gray fur barely making his scrawny physique look passable, but he was a lot tougher than you’d expect, you’d have to be when your 900-pound skunk mother was using you as a fart cushion.

“I know they’re hot sweetie, just keep thinking about how you’ll be done with your chores for the week when I’m done and time will fly,” Courtney said, lightly tapping her left buttcheek in an attempt to impart a phantom head pat to her son with the jello-like wobbling of her ass. To Orin though, this wobbling was like having a rubbery mattress motorboating your face. He was deep in his mom’s butt this time, his entire frame lost in her chair’s butt groove and pressed right into the dead center of her buttcrack. The temperature was scorching, and Courtney's body heat rendered him into a gross sweat, leaving Orin thankful his mother decided to wear pants for his online meeting (he was not always so lucky). He was just grateful she had agreed to have his “fart cushion” chore be over before burrito night…

FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRPPPPPPPHHHHHHTTTTTTT!!!!!!!

But the odor was still all too real, Courtney’s recent high protein diet had added a certain weight to every toot that ripped into her son’s face. The thick, beef and cheese-rich stink practically crawled down Orin’s throat, a truly perverted display of the old idea of a mother feeding her son. A feeding that had just begun he feared, as he felt an almost seismic tremor from the depths of Courtney’s digestive tract. Her meeting was just getting started, and she had some anxiety farts to rip out.

“Remember Orin, make sure these don’t get picked up on my mic, mommy knows you won’t disappoint her,” Courtney said in a hushed tone before turning attention back to her screen, a dozen or so mini displays of her subordinates and superiors blipping and bopping across it, leaving the attention the skunk woman took to keep her gaseous hurricane in check, it was her son’s problem now…

PPPPPPPPHHHHRRRUUUFFFTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!
BBBBRRRRHHHHUUFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!

SSSSSSSRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For what felt like hours Orin was left to bear the brunt of his mother’s skunk-ish onslaught while she discussed spreadsheets and projections. Every few minutes another wave of stink ripped through Courtney's fat ass cheeks and into her Son’s mouth, practically feeding him her entire lunch in fart form as he had nothing else to do but accept each blast into his screaming lunges. The odor of moldy cheese and spoiled beef (given a nice hint of hot crap and rotten egg smell) rendered his ability to even struggle worthless before the sheer motherly stink he had found himself smothered in. But there was hope, as Courtney’s meeting began to wind down and down, each little window of her co-workers and bosses faded away, and, soon enough, the entire thing was over, leaving the skunk woman to let out a long, deep sigh and…

FFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPSSSSSSLLLLLLLPPPPPHHHHHTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…An even bigger fart of relief. The entire office chair rattled the sheer intestinal pressure being slammed into her son like a bazooka. A noticeable wave of heat waved through the air around Courtney’s massive rear end, introducing a sour stank of milked meat and cheese drizzled crap. These thirty seconds of gaseous relief were pure hell for Orin, who's entire being felt utterly vacated by this last matronly part, leaving him with nothing but the smallest shoestring of consciousness and the gassy embrace of his skunk mother’s fat ass.

“Ahhhh…you okay down there, sweetie?” Courtney asked, lifting her rear off the seat to find her poor, sweat-soaked son practically fused to her chair, his body limp and eyes barely fluttering with recognition of her words.

“Y-yes Mom…” Orin wheezed; his body too tired to even swallow up the fresh air he had been yearning for.

“Good, you were a real trooper today! I did not even hear a peep! You deserve a treat I think, don't you?” She said, peeling him off her chair and holding him up to her face with a sudden ray of motherly affection. Courtney had a habit of viewing next to all relationships (no matter what kind) as transactional, she was warm and kind to those who kept their end of the deal, and Orin’s deal to do A LOT of gross chores for her in exchange for living at home without a job rent-free was one such transactional relationship they had built over the past year.

“Uuuhhh-huuuhh…”

“How about that pizza place you love so much? Dragon Cheese right?” She smiled, resting his limp body on her broad shoulder as she walked out of her home office.

“Yes, Mom. Can I shower first?” Orin said, the life in his voice returning little by little, especially with the mention of his favorite pizza place.

“You did do well today so yes, but I’m going to join you, your mother has been sweating very badly if you could not tell…” Courtney said, walking into her room, her massive tail swaying and dripping with sweat while perfectly obscuring Orin’s face of utter defeat as he mentally prepared himself for his mother’s infamous shower farts…