The Waifu assistant's voice chimed again, its tone as cheerful and unbothered as ever. "The next most-watched video is Kathy Bates's hot tub scene in About Schmidt. Would you like me to play it?"
Chad's face twitched. "No, no, no… That scene is just funny… I never… ya know, jerked off to… That would be gross," he blurted out, his voice cracking mid-denial.
The waifu AI assistant remained silent, waiting.
"Stop listing videos," he snapped, running a hand through his greasy hair. "I don't need videos…"
He turned toward his waifu pillow, the only woman in his life who truly understood him. With a slow, unsettling wink, he whispered, "I just need you… babe."
For a moment, there was nothing but the low hum of his computer fan. Then, the Waifu assistant responded in its usual sexy waifu monotone voice, "Playing 'I Got You Babe Now.'"
Chad's stomach dropped. "NO! No, stop…!" he yelped, lunging for his keyboard. His fingers fumbled over the mousepad as he scrambled to disconnect his internet before the bot could dig up anything else.
He poked the pillow to make sure it was turned off—like someone prodding a dead animal with a stick, half-expecting it to twitch back to life and maul him.
It was hard to tell. Her eyes remained wide open, locked in a sultry, smouldering gaze—intense, unwavering, as if she could see straight through him. That stare followed his every move, tracing him with an almost hungry fixation… seductive yet eerie, like a lover who never blinked. Watching. Judging.
He jabbed it a few more times just to be certain… using his finger, not his dick, just to clarify. Satisfied it was truly off, he picked up the pillow and shifted it into the perfect position. As he adjusted it, a tiny static charge snapped against his hand.
Damn, he thought. That could've been my cock getting zapped.
Then he thought about it again.
…Yeah. That could have been my cock.
His eyes flicked to the power button. His fingers twitched.
Without hesitation, he turned his waifu back on and pressed himself against it, waiting—hoping—for another jolt. A faint spark pricked his skin, and a shiver of excitement shot through him.
He just had to be careful—really careful—not to let his junk stray too close to the plastic voice box. He'd learnt that lesson the hard way during past "intimate" moments with his waifu, where its corners scratched his junk and balls.
He hesitated for a moment, then started awkwardly grinding against the pillow's face, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "This is how you sex, right?" he muttered to himself. If not, Chad had just invented a new technique on how to do it.
The waifu pillow let out a muffled, gargled attempt at speech, the words struggling to escape. "Mmmph… i-it seeeems… you are praaacticing… your puh—push-usp… exercises… W-would you like me… to c-count… as you do them…?"
Chad stopped and looked at his waifu, confused. "How is her voice getting muffled when I'm humping her face area? Her voice box is near her groin area, and I'm purposely avoiding that…"
He knew they were going to upgrade the AI tech for this soon… Maybe they already had, and he just didn't know—like when they install those automatic updates on your laptop without permission that always fuck your system up.
It made him think of those creepy haunted dolls you see advertised online, the ones with unsettling backstories. He couldn't help but wonder how they ended up the way they did. Maybe they were mistreated, neglected, or abandoned. He briefly entertained the idea that his waifu pillow had somehow been cursed, but no way—there was no demon involved like with that infamous Annabelle doll, right? He wasn't about to need a priest to come and perform an exorcism on his jizz-covered waifu pillow.
There was no way his waifu would turn evil. Her smile was absolutely beautiful, and he had shown her nothing but love.
He was determined to show just how deeply he loved his waifu. Now completely naked, he stood before her, his body tense with anticipation. With a quick glance at the clock on his wall, he realised that it had only been a little over seven minutes since he'd shot a massive load over the pillow. The idea of proving his love with another quick release excited him. If he could climax again this fast, it would show just how devoted he was to his waifu. He closed his eyes, allowing a brief moment of peace as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the pleasure beginning to build as his hand moved in a steady rhythm.
Not sure exactly why, but smiling while jerking always seemed to enhance his orgasms. Something about the way his face relaxed into a grin seemed to trigger a rush, almost like the smile itself released dopamine—much like the satisfying release of his own cum. The two felt connected, a perfect combo. Now, he neared his peak, rhythmically thrusting, "As the tension peaked, he opened his eyes, locking gaze with his waifu. Her 2D image on the pillow, he steeled himself, determined to aim his release of cum over her with more precision this time.
He shot his first couple of loads of cum splats over her delicate, anime-perfect face, believing that this gesture showed he was a gentleman... an impossibly beautiful sight that only 2D art could capture. No 3D girl could have ever looked this good to him. His waifu's expression, frozen in that design, radiates an intoxicating blend of innocence and allure, pulling him in as it always does. Afterward, he moves down to her boobs, still thinking about the gesture of shooting over her face. Convinced that this action demonstrates his thoughtfulness, he believes it makes the girls feel pretty, offering the subtle suggestion that she's not merely a walking pair of boobs for someone to ogle but also a pretty face you'd want to shoot your load over as well.
A smug sense of pride swelled in his chest as he was cumming again so soon. Impressive. He shifted, aiming over her boobs, and with a final twitch, a thick load shot out. His eyes fluttered shut as he basked in the moment—
SCRATCH. SCRATCH.
A jagged, grating noise slices through the silence. His eyes snapped open.
On the lower half of his waifu pillow, something stirs. A slow, groggy stretch. Then—a pair of slitted eyes blinked up at him.
That damn stray cat.
His gaze dropped. His stomach sank.
A thick, glistening rope of cum drips from the cat's fur.
It froze. Ears flattened. Tail flicked. Muscles coiled like a spring.
Then—
"REEEOWWW!!!"
The cat erupted.
Fur bristled. Claws unsheathe. It lunged, an unholy shriek splitting the air as it swiped at Chad's balls with razor-sharp fury. He yelps, jerking back just in time, but the cat isn't done.
It twisted midair, landed hard, and bolted.
Its frantic, high-pitched meows spiralled into a banshee-like screech as it ricocheted off the walls, knocking over figures, posters, and anything in its path. . White strands of cum cling to its matted fur, flinging in all directions as it thrashes like a possessed demon.
"HISSSSS!!"
Wide, unblinking eyes locked onto Chad.
Another furious swipe—another near miss. His heart pounds. The thing is feral.
Then, in a final burst of rage, the cat lunged toward the window, claws scraping the floor with an awful screech. It scaled the curtain, knocking it askew, and perched on the sill.
Its back arched. Tail thrashed.
Then—
"RRREEEEEOOOWWWW!!!"
One last furious, blood-curdling yowl—and it was gone, disappearing into the night.
Its echoing cries faded into the distance, leaving only a trashed room, a racing heartbeat, and a terrible, terrible mess.
Chad quickly closed the window and looked down at his waifu pillow—sad... very sad—until he noticed it. Some of the cum he had shot at the cat had splattered onto her boobs as well. His eyes widened. Then, with a triumphant "Yahooo!" he gave his balls a proud rub—only to flinch.
"Ouch..." he hissed. Damn scratch marks...
Suddenly, static crackled from his waifu anime pillow. Then, a distorted voice emerged, letting out a chuckle.
"Event recorded for future LOL purposes."
Chad froze. He must have been hearing things... Yeah. Definitely time for some sleep.
He cuddled up with his waifu pillow, pressing his face into the soft fabric, still warm from his earlier activities. A deep sigh escaped him as his body sank into the stained sheets, the familiar musk lingering in the air. Unloading a big load always drained him, leaving his limbs heavy and his mind hazy. His eyelids fluttered shut, and within moments, he was out—lost in the comforting embrace of post-nut exhaustion.