Over half a dozen chapters into Volume 2 of this light novel, and Chad is nowhere to be seen. This isn't a Metal Gear Solid 2 reverse bait-and-switch, where Solid Snake is swapped for a naked Raiden. No, Chad's just keeping a low profile, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
Chad trudged back home after the slightly awkward nude photoshoot he'd done for Bishop and his sister, feeling the sticky jizz all over the inside of his trousers starting to dry and itch, making his way through the treacherous streets of Brightwater. Every turn he took, every alley he passed, seemed to hold a new danger. Every corner was hiding some fresh hazard. The whole place felt like a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off at any moment.
It wasn't dangerous for the reasons you'd expect—it was dangerous because of…
"Chad!! It's Chad!!" A woman screamed, her car careening through traffic, tyres screeching. Two other vehicles slammed their brakes to avoid her, their horns blaring, turning the whole street into chaos. Without missing a beat, the woman threw open her door and stepped out of her car, her heels clicking sharply on the asphalt as she rushed toward Chad.
"Chad!! In the flesh!! I can't believe it!" Another woman leaned halfway out of her window, catching her breath. "No way! You're even hotter up close... Bet you're unreal in bed!" Without hesitation, she threw open her door and stepped onto the asphalt, her heels clicking with every step.
A third driver screeched to a halt, her car jolting in the middle of the road. She didn't hesitate—door flying open, she shouted, "Take me now, Chad! I need you!" She bolted toward him, heels hammering the pavement like gunfire.
The first woman groaned, looking back at the gridlock forming behind her. At that moment, a loud crunch echoed as a car ploughed into the side of another vehicle. An irate man leaned out his window, fist waving. "Bloody women drivers!"
One of the women snapped, "We're not even driving, you idiot! We're not even in your car! You need glasses... go to Specsavers!"
The man screamed, "What the actual fuck are you stupid fucking women drivers doing, blocking the goddamn road with three cars?! You've made me crash into one of them, you dumb fucking bitches!"
The second woman, rolling her eyes, muttered, "Oh, shut up, little man. Wait... where did Chad go?"
Chad slipped away from the escalating madness; as he now heard police sirens behind him, he veered onto a quiet dirt path few ever bothered with. It was a hidden gem for upscale women trotting along on horseback, but for anyone on foot, it was a minefield of fresh horse dung waiting to ruin your day.
Midges and mosquitoes swarmed him, biting all over—especially his legs and his dick. Even the female insects seemed obsessed with his junk, as though drawn to it like tiny, winged perverts. At least, he assumed they were female. Maybe they were just after the jizz in his trousers, eager for a sip.
Scratching at his balls and legs, he only stopped once the itching finally eased. A glance around confirmed no one was watching—except for something off to the side. An eerie sensation of being stared at prickled his skin. Slowly, he turned.
Behind weathered fences, a group of horses stood, their wide, unblinking eyes locked onto him. Restless, they trotted in circles, whinnying impatiently. Clearly, they wanted a carrot.
Yeah, well, there was absolutely no way Chad was putting his personal carrot anywhere near... those teeth. Those crooked, yellowed, nightmarishly jagged tombstones of teeth…
A shiver crawled down his spine. His legs tensed, an awful, phantom pain throbbing between them as his mind tormented him with the horrifying image.
Then, without warning, the horses stopped.
And they all pooped.
In perfect synchronisation.
The putrid stench hit immediately. Chad wrinkled his nose, turning away, unsure whether to take it as a compliment, a warning, or just the horses being absurdly thrilled to see him. Either way, he wasn't sticking around to find out—his feet carried him forward.
Watching the horses poop reminded him of when he listened to mumble rap and got a bad case of diarrhoea—those cursed tracks that always left him with a raging case of diarrhoea. Any rapper with "Lil" in their name was a guaranteed gut-churner. The "Lil" seemed to signal a tiny talent pool and even fewer brain cells, all drowned in autotune so thick it could've been piped to Mars and back. Funnily enough, AI-generated mumble rap sounded more human than their so-called "original" garbage.
Dirt crunched underfoot as he trudged along the path. He missed his waifu so bad. All he wanted was to get home, cuddle up with his pillow, and have a deep, philosophical chat about climate change and global warming—while the climate in his bed heated up and he globally warmed her all over in a sweaty mess.
And then he heard loud barking and something running towards him. It wasn't a Pit Bull, was it? He'd been thinking ill of bad musicians, and now a hit had been put on him, and a Pit Bull was going to maul him.
A massive Labrador Retriever, muscles rippling with strength, leapt at his leg, soaring through the air with surprising agility. The sheer force of its landing shakes the ground beneath him as it crashes onto his leg, immediately starting to hump with relentless energy.
Chad panicked, not quite sure what to do. He doesn't want to harm the doggo in any way, but if he tries to pet it, it could bite his hand.
At least it can't reach his crotch and turn his junk into a chew toy—so for now, it's just his legs on the line, potentially doomed to be humped into oblivion. After a chaotic moment, the doggo relents, plopping down with its paws draped over his right leg, gazing up at him with soulful eyes.
"Humpy!" a woman's voice called out as she dashed toward the dog. She deftly fastened the leash to its collar and glanced at Chad with a quick, apologetic smile… "Sorry 'bout that… This lead and collar ain't quite as sturdy as they used to be." Her gaze locked with his, and she paused, visibly taken by him. Her smile turned teasing, her voice dropping to a playful lilt. "Not since I started puttin' 'em to... tougher use in the bedroom, anyway."
Chad nodded absent-mindedly, barely listening. His attention had drifted elsewhere—specifically to the subtle bounce of her chest as she moved. Was she wearing a bra? He couldn't tell. The fabric of her dress didn't give much away, but there was a certain... natural sway.
"Oi, I'm Autumn Rose, by the way," she said, a thirsty laughter slipping out as she took in Chad's appeal. Standing before him was a bonny rural girl, her chestnut hair catching the light with copper streaks, falling in gentle waves. Long lashes framed eyes full of cheeky mischief, freckles dotting her nose. A sly grin tugged at her lips, showing there was a bit more to her than met the eye.
"I...am Chad..." He was about to say Chadwick, but the doggo pulled at the leash again, and he shouted, "Dick!!" He tried to protect it from the doggo trying to go after the thing between his legs.
"Down, Humpy!" she said, then grinned. "And nice to meet ya... Chaddick."
Well, that is a new nickname for him he hadn't heard before. Sounds like a weird cheese, but whatever. He stared at the doggo going crazy for his leg and dick and said to Autumn, "That... is one horny doggo."
She chuckled and tossed out, "Not as horny as me, though..." Her eyes darted to the eager dog eyeing Chad's legs, then matched its gaze. "Oi, reckon we oughta give Humpy a proper show..." She faced Chad again and licked her lips. "Let 'em watch us go at it—wild, mad sex, with that sexy cock of yours going deep into both me holes." She glanced at the dog once more, grinning. "Doggy style, of course."
Chad was a bit curious about what her boobs and naked body looked like, but the whole sex thing with the dog watching? That could get risky... especially if the dog tried to join in.
He said. "I am tired, and my legs hurt… and I bet it is far away"
"No, me cottage is just a few doggy steps away... you can hop on for a piggyback to get there even quicker."
Chadwick looked around to see where the pigs are. Did he really want to ride on the back of a pig to get there? He can't imagine riding some pot-bellied pig covered in mud and said, "What pigs? I don't see any around."
She chuckled. "I mean a piggyback ride, like."
Still looking dazed, he struggled to process what he had just heard.
"It means you hop on me back, get up on me shoulders, and your junk's gonna press into the back of me head. Or, I could turn round, and your junk could end up right in me face, but I won't be able to see where I'm goin'. But it don't matter… I know this place like the back of me buttocks."
A pause lingered between them before she spoke again. "It seems a bit ill-mannered... to, ummm... have a girl carry a big dude. I mean, are you even strong enough? Not that I'm saying I'm fat or anything... just, you know, average weight... Maybe I should carry you instead."
She raised an eyebrow and said, "You wanna carry me? Want me on yer back... with me, uh, pussy so close to your face?"
Chad mumbled, "Err…"
Her expression sharpened—bold now, unwavering. "I'm not wearin' any knickers under this," she declared, lifting her pinafore dress.
His eyes flickered downward. She held the lead in one hand, her other still gripping the fabric. Beneath it, a rural seductress's gem was on full display—sleek, shaven, with plump, juicy lips that curved like a tease. Glistening and flawless, it radiated raw desire. The mere thought of being locked inside—tight, wet heat clenching around him, grinding against silky walls—sent a rush of dirty, unfiltered bliss straight to his core.