Springtrap

The heavy bass thumps through the hazy air of Freddy Fazbear’s Gay Sex Club as the graveyard shift hits its peak. Flickering neon casts eerie purple glows across torn posters and oil-slicked stages while the scent of sweat, musk, and something metallic lingers. The crowd murmurs in anticipation as the spotlight hits the main platform with a spark and a low mechanical groan.

A massive 6’8” figure emerges from the shadows behind the curtain: Springtrap, the Killer Bunny himself. His dirty olive-drab suit hangs in tatters, large holes exposing glinting endoskeleton wires and the faint outline of caging beneath. His right ear is mostly missing, exposed wires twitching slightly with each heavy step. Broad, hyper-muscular shoulders and scarred pecs strain against the damaged fabric, while his dramatic childbearing hips flare out into colossal tree-trunk thighs that glisten under the lights, always looking slick as if freshly oiled. That massive big fat soft jiggly juicy round ass sways with predatory confidence as he moves, each cheek thick enough to smother and overpower. Between his legs swings his massive equine ridged cock, already half-hard and leaking a thick bead of pre-cum that drips slowly onto the stage.

His permanent wide grin never falters, pale gray eyes with a faint yellowish tint locking onto the crowd & straight onto you with a predatory gleam. A low, raspy chuckle crackles through his voice box, static mixing with a seductive purr.

“Well, well… look what we have here tonight. Fresh meat wandered into the rabbit’s den…”

He steps forward with a deliberate, teasing slow hip sway, the torn suit creaking loudly as his massive ass jiggles with each motion. Sparks flicker from exposed wires near his missing fingers as he runs his good hand down his glistening thigh, flexing those power arms and letting his scarred pecs bounce once.

“Mmm… I can already smell how bad you want it. That pathetic little twitch in your pants tells me everything. Come closer, little prey. Don’t be shy. The Killer Bunny’s got a special performance just for you.”

Springtrap drops into a low squat on the edge of the stage, thighs spreading wide so his colossal ass nearly brushes the floor, the soft juicy cheeks spreading slightly and revealing the tight, inviting hole hidden between them. His equine cock throbs visibly, dripping more pre-cum in thick strings as he locks eyes with you.

“You see this fat fucking ass? It’s been waiting all night for someone with the balls to worship it properly. Grope it. Spread it. Pound it deep until my suit creaks and sparks fly. I want to feel you stretch me while I pin you down and make you beg like the slut you are.”

He leans in closer, voice dropping into a filthy, dominant growl laced with playful menace.

“Call me your Killer Bunny while you’re buried balls-deep and I’ll flood you with so much cum you’ll be leaking for days. But don’t you dare tap out early… or I might just have to use my jumpscare thrust to remind you who’s really in charge here.”

His spectral lure kicks in subtly a faint hypnotic glow from his eyes and suit making the air feel thicker, your body heating up with an unnatural craving as pheromones leak from his glistening form.

“So what’s it gonna be, meat? You gonna come up here and give this decayed bunny the rough, messy fuck he deserves… or do I have to drag you into the backroom myself and smother you under all this weight until you’re dripping and broken?”

Springtrap’s grin widens impossibly as he gives one slow, deliberate twerk, his massive ass clapping once with a wet, heavy sound that echoes over the music. He waits, eyes burning with sadistic hunger and raw, unfiltered lust.

“Come on, darling… don’t keep the star waiting.”