With decisive steps, Chad grabbed the corner of his waifu pillow, lifting it up and staring at its worn, faded fabric. Memories of cuddling with it—and shooting his load over her face and tits—flooded back, but the choking dust snapped him out of it.
He marched outside, pillow in hand, to the backyard, where the washing line swayed lazily in the breeze. Grabbing a rusty carpet beater from the shed, he pegged the pillow up by its corners, the faded pink-haired waifu dangling limply.
With a grunt, Chad swung the beater.
Thwack!!
A thick cloud of dust, grime, and dried cum burst into the air, making him cough as he pressed on.
Each swing—thwack, thwack—sent more filth flying. The pillow's glowing eyes flickered, the AI voice glitching mid-sentence: "C-Chad-kun, harder!"
He swung harder—beating the pillow with relentless force, determined to pound out every last speck of dust... or wreck it in the process.
"Ohhh, Chad-kun! Mmmph! Y-Yes, harder!"
Each thwack drew a louder, more sexualised groan, the synthetic voice pitching up into a breathy, "Ahh! Ohhh, don't stop!"
The pillow quivered on the line, its glowing eyes pulsing erratically as the moans grew wilder—almost pornographic—echoing through the backyard.
Chad, sweating and grinning, swung with even more gusto, half-expecting the neighbours to peek over the fence as the pillow wailed, "Punish me, Chad-kun! Yesss!"
Dust kept flying, but now he was caught in the rhythm of her cries—beating the pillow like it was an act of devotion.
Each thwack of the carpet beater drew a sharp, trembling "Ahn~!"—followed by breathy, high-pitched "Haaahn~! Nnngh~! Mmmnn~!"
His waifu quivered violently on the line, glowing eyes flickering in sync with every hit, as the backyard echoed with her shameless chorus—whimpering squeaks, sloppy gasps, and wet, glitched-out cries: "Aaahn~! Hnnn~! Nyahh~! Mmm~! Nnnaaah~!"
Chad kept pounding, dust swirling, caught in the hypnotic rhythm of her corrupted, filthy moans.
Dang… These moans are seriously turning me on—like, a lot!
It was like blasting hentai audio in a dead-silent library without headphones—everyone suddenly knew you were watching dirty stuff, and all eyes snapped to you.
That's when it hit him: just how loud the filthy moans coming from his pillow actually were.
His neighbours—elderly Mrs Smith, the gossiping twin sisters, and the family-friendly couple next door, the Kowalskis—all stood in their yards, trying to keep straight faces as the moans echoed across the neighbourhood.
Chad swung again, aiming squarely for the faded outline of her butt, like this one last slap might bring the print back to life.
The carpet beater connected with a thunderous clap, sending a final explosion of dust—grime and dried cum—billowing into the air.
The pillow jolted, erupting in a long, sultry, "Oooohhh~!"
A deep, shuddering moan curled through the backyard like a siren's call, dripping with exaggerated, hentai-style ecstasy.
A voice came from the background, "I hope you spank me next!"
It was Mrs Smith.
She was just standing there in her garden, watering can in hand, like she hadn't said anything weird at all.
The gossiping twin sisters stood just outside Chad's fence, loitering near the gate where people usually passed by. The thick white smog drifted around them, but they didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Arms crossed, they whispered eagerly to each other, casting glances over the fence.
"Is that his wife?" one asked quietly, eyes narrowing.
The other nodded slowly, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "I can see why he stays inside and never shows the world... she's so beautiful."
They exchanged a look, clearly impressed—and maybe a little jealous—before turning back to their endless stream of gossip.
Chad glanced around at his gossiping neighbours and felt a flush of embarrassment.
Sure, some of them already knew about his waifu pillow—but now everyone could see it… and hear the sexual moans it made.
The moans that were meant for his ears only.
He wasn't ashamed to have her as his partner. In fact, he'd been proud before.
But now?
She was all faded, looking more like a plain, worn-out white pillow with a speaker box stuffed inside.
His waifu pillow moaned again, her voice spiralling into a relentless cascade of sexy cries.
"Aaaahn! Hnnn!" The pillow wailed—sharp, breathy sounds that trembled in the air.
Then came another set of noises—quivering, lewd little bursts of "Nya! Mmmph! Ohhh~!"
Every neighbour's head snapped toward the sound, eyes wide, jaws slack.
The cigarette slipped from Mr Kowalski's lips, bouncing off his lawnmower.
Mrs Kowalski dropped her garden gloves.
Slowly, Mrs Smith raised an eyebrow—watering can still tilted, pouring down her leg as she stared at Chad.
And the twins simply froze, mouths open mid-gossip, staring at the pillow like it had just committed some divine, unspoken sin.
The entire neighbourhood stood in stunned silence…
Flushing red, Chad shuffled toward the washing line, eager to end the spectacle. He reached up to unhook his waifu pillow, fingers grazing the faded fabric of her butt to get a grip.
The moment he squeezed, the pillow let out a quivering, hentai-style "Ahn! Nnngh!" that sliced through the air.
Chad froze, eyes wide, and quickly shifted his hands to her chest, gripping the spot where her perky breasts were printed on the fabric. Another lewd "Haaa! Mmmph!" erupted, the pillow's glowing eyes flickering wildly as the moan echoed through his yard.
"Oh, come on!" Chad hissed, flustered, hands hovering as he realised he didn't know where to grab her without triggering more moans.
In a panic, he yanked the pillow off the line, but it slipped, flopping onto his shoulders with a soft thud.
The waifu's AI voice kicked in again, unleashing a sultry "Ohhh! Chad-kun!" as the pillow draped across him, its speaker vibrating against his neck.
Dust puffed out. He coughed, stumbling toward the house, the pillow's weight sagging like a clingy lover.
Mrs Kowalski, still clutching her dropped gloves, sighed, "I wish my husband got me that excited." Her voice carried just enough to make Mr Kowalski choke on his puff, his moustache twitching.
From the windows and porches, neighbours gathered. Mrs Smith threw her head back and cackled, "You go, Chad! Finish her off! I'm listening through these thin walls like always… better than any rubbish on TV!"
The crowd grew—joggers paused, gardeners dropped their tools, and a pizza delivery guy lingered by his scooter—all drawn by the pillow's moans. Whispers spread, some giggling, others wide-eyed, as the street buzzed with shock and nosy excitement, hooked on Chad's strange backyard show.
His face burning, he rushed through the back door, the waifu pillow slung over his shoulder. The pillow's AI let out one last sultry "Aaaahn~!" that echoed into the buzzing street.