About holes

Brian woke up to the smell of butter, syrup, and something distinctly bacon-adjacent.

For a brief, disorienting moment, he thought he was back in his basement, and his mother had made breakfast.

Then he opened his eyes and saw the offensively pink, ruffled canopy hanging over the four-poster bed, and he remembered.

Right.

He was dead.

And he was in candy hell.

He sat up, blinking the crust from his eyes. On the small wooden table next to the bed sat a massive silver tray.

It was piled high with food that looked like it had been arranged by a professional artist.

A stack of fluffy pancakes drizzled with what looked like rainbow-colored syrup.

A bowl of vibrant, fresh fruit—strawberries the size of his fist, blueberries that glittered like sapphires, and oranges that were genuinely the color orange and not filled with brown patches like he was used to.

A small porcelain teapot steaming with something fragrant. Several strips of crispy, perfectly cooked bacon.

And a top it all off, a small ramekin of golden butter.

Brian's huge stomach roared.

Next to the tray sat a folded pile of clothes.

He picked up the top garment and held it up.

It was a tunic. A bright, canary-yellow tunic with little embroidered pink flowers along the hem and sky-blue cuffs. The pants were a soft, sage-green color, with a drawstring waist.

There was also a pair of brown leather boots and a wide leather belt.

"You have got to be kidding me," Brian muttered, holding the tunic up to his torso. "I look like a fucking Easter egg."

He looked down at his own clothes, his cum-stained gray t-shirt and his crusty sweatpants.

He had to admit, even his standards had a limit. The clothes here looked clean and they actually smelled like fresh lavender.

And besides, if he wanted to blend in, he'd have to look the part.

He stripped down, dropping his disgusting Earth clothes in a pile on the floor.

Then he pulled on the new outfit. The fabric was soft and surprisingly cool against his skin, almost silky.

It fit his big size perfectly, like Tansy had measured him in his sleep.

"Whatever," he grunted, sitting down to attack the breakfast. "Disguise activated."

He ate like he was being timed.

The pancakes were the best he'd ever had, sweet without being cloying, with a texture so light he was sure they were ninety percent air.

The bacon was crispy and salty and absolutely perfect.

The strawberries tasted like strawberries, but somehow more so, like the platonic ideal of every strawberry that had ever existed.

By the time he finished, his stomach was tight and his mind was buzzing.

He had work to do.

---

Brian descended the wooden staircase, his new boots creaking on the polished steps.

The Honey Hearth was warm and inviting in the morning light, with golden sunbeams streaming through diamond-paned windows.

Tansy was at the bar, polishing a wooden mug with a soft cloth, humming a gentle tune.

She looked up the second he appeared on the landing, and her honey-brown eyes practically lit up.

"Brian!" she cried, dropping the mug. "Oh, you're awake! Don't you look just wonderful in those clothes! Sage and yellow are absolutely your colors!"

Before he could respond, she was already rushing across the room. He braced himself a second too late.

Her massive, soft body collided with his in a powerful morning hug.

Her enormous D-cup breasts squashed against his chest, the warm cinnamon-bread scent of her enveloping him.

She squeezed tight, her warm cheek pressing against his ear.

"How did you sleep, dear?" she purred, her voice vibrating against his skin.

Brian's hands instinctively went to her wide, soft hips, gripping the fabric of her dress.

He let his fingers sink in, just a little, testing.

She didn't react. She just held him tighter.

"I slept... real good, Tansy," Brian said, his voice slightly hoarse.

He kept his hips angled back so she wouldn't notice the bulge that was rapidly forming in his new sage-green pants. "Real, real good."

She pulled back, beaming. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the morning warmth.

"Wonderful! Sit, sit! Have you eaten? Of course you have, I sent the tray up myself! Have you had tea? Of course you have, that was on the tray too! Oh, but you must have more!"

She bustled around him, pulling out a chair at the bar.

Brian sat down on the stool, watching her bounce around with that effortless, oblivious sensuality.

He needed information.

If he was going to play this game, he needed to know the rules of the board.

"Tansy," he started, putting on his best 'curious traveler' voice. "I've been wondering about something."

"Anything, dear!" she chirped, pouring him a cup of fragrant amber tea.

"Yesterday, when we were walking around, Melody and Flora mentioned a royal guard. And there's that big castle and everything. But this place..." Brian gestured vaguely all around him. "It seems so... safe here. So nice. Why does a place like this need a guard?"

Tansy's smile faltered, just slightly. It was the first time he'd seen her face shift into something other than pure, beaming happiness.

She leaned across the bar, lowering her voice as if sharing a great secret.

"Oh, dear traveler," she sighed. "You must not know, then. The world is not all sunshine and sugar gardens. We are the land of Sugarspire, blessed and beautiful. But across the great Misty Border, there lies another realm. A dark place."

"Dark place?" Brian repeated, leaning in.

"The Obsidian Dominion," Tansy whispered, her eyes wide. "A wicked place of shadow and gloom! Ruled by the terrible, the dreadful, the wicked Empress Nyx Shadowmere!"

She said the name like she was reading from a storybook, her voice dipping dramatically.

Brian almost laughed. "Wicked, huh?"

"Oh, the wickedest!" Tansy nodded vigorously, her tits jiggling under her corset. "She has tried to conquer our beloved Sugarspire many, many times! She wants to drown our candy fields in shadow! She wants to make the sky grey! She wants to put everyone to bed early!"

That's it? Brian thought. That's her evil plan? Early bedtime?

"And every time," Tansy continued, her face lighting up again, "our brave Princess Lumi has stopped her! Princess Lumi rides out with Captain Ros and the Royal Guard, and she defeats Empress Nyx in single combat! She always sends her and her three minions running back to the dark caves with their tails between their legs!"

"Three minions," Brian said, his brain cataloging every detail. "Right. And these are bad people? Like, evil?"

"Oh yes, very evil," Tansy nodded sagely. "They... they say mean things sometimes!"

Brian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing in her face.

This wasn't a kingdom.

This was a Saturday morning cartoon. The kind he used to mock on Adult Swim before he got really into anime.

A villain whose worst crime was saying mean things.

A heroic princess who fought her dozens of times and never killed her, just sent her packing.

It was a cartoon premise played out in real life by people who didn't know they were in a cartoon.

His mind raced, putting the pieces together.

A villain who lied, who schemed.

If lying existed, then the concept of deception existed in this world.

But it was associated with evil.

With Nyx and her dark realm.

"So, this Nyx," Brian said carefully, swirling his tea. "She lies, right? Like, she tricks people?"

"Of course she does!" Tansy gasped, scandalized. "That's how you know she's wicked! She tells fibs. She makes promises she doesn't keep. She says one thing and does another! It's just dreadful behavior!"

Bingo, Brian thought, his lips curling into a small smile. So lying is a thing. But it's a 'them' thing. It's a Dark Realm thing. And nobody here would ever suspect a sweet, friendly traveler who showed up in a yellow tunic to be doing any 'wicked' fibbing. Because I'm not from there.

It was time for him to test the waters more, find the limits of how stupid these people were.

He stood up from the stool and wandered over to the front window of the tavern, peering out at the village square.

The morning was in full swing. People were out and about, going to a bustling market.

A small group had gathered in the square, and to Brian's confusion, they were... dancing.

Just a spontaneous, joyful little dance. Men and women, holding hands, spinning each other around, laughing.

The men were exactly as Brian had remembered them from yesterday.

Soft, gentle, with neatly-combed hair and pleasant smiles.

They danced with the same uninhibited, sexless joy as the women. There was no flirting.

No grinding. No subtle ass-grabs.

It was just... dancing. Like brothers and sisters at a family reunion.

Brian frowned. He needed to ask. He needed to know.

"Tansy," he said, turning back to the bar. "Can I ask you something kind of personal?"

"Of course, dear!" she chirped, polishing another mug.

"How..." Brian struggled to find the right words. "How do people here, you know... have kids? Make babies?"

Tansy paused her polishing, tilting her head with a confused little smile. "Make babies? I'm afraid I don't quite catch your meaning, Brian."

Brian stared at her. She wasn't joking. She wasn't being coy.

There was a real, genuine question mark in her eyes.

"You know," he said slowly. "Like, where do new people come from? When you want more people, how do you... how does that happen?"

"Oh!" Tansy's face cleared. "Oh, I see! What a curious question for a traveler! Do they not have new people in your land?"

"Yeah, but I want to know how it works here."

Tansy set down her mug. "Well, when the village wants a new little one, we go to the Candy Patch! There's a special grove just outside the village, near the strawberry fields. We tend to it, we sing to it, we plant little seeds of love and laughter. And after a season or two, a brand new person sprouts right up out of the ground, ready to join the village!"

Brian's mouth fell open.

From the ground.

Out of fucking patches.

"Just... sprouts out of the ground," Brian repeated flatly.

"Yes! Fully formed and ready to learn! Babies, sometimes, but mostly young people, around the age they're meant to be. It's the most wonderful day when a new villager sprouts!" Tansy clasped her hands together. "We had a sprouting last spring! Young Dewey came up from the strawberry patch. He's already learning to bake!"

Brian stared at her, his brain trying to process this.

No fucking.

No pregnancy.

No childbirth.

People just grew out of patches.

His blood ran cold.

A horrifying, soul-crushing thought hit him like a freight train.

If they didn't make babies the normal way... if they didn't reproduce... if they had no concept of sex...

What if they didn't have the parts?

What if all these gorgeous, busty, perfectly-formed women were just dolls?

What if their thighs met in a smooth, featureless mound of flesh, like a Barbie doll?

What if there was nothing there?

No pussy.

No fuck-hole.

No way to do what he came here to do.

And what if they tried to throw him as a freak because he actually had cock and balls?

His face must have gone pale, because Tansy leaned forward, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Brian, dear, are you all right? You've gone all white. Was it the bacon? I worried I left it on a touch too long."

"No, no, I'm fine," Brian waved her off.

He had to know.

He had to know right fucking now.

There was no point in any of this if there were no pussies.

"Tansy, I need to ask you another personal question, and I'm sorry if this sounds weird. It's a... it's a custom from my country. We have to ask."

"Of course, dear!" she said warmly. "Ask anything!"

Brian took a deep breath. "Do... do the women here, you know... have anything?"

Tansy blinked. "Have anything? What do you mean, dear?"

"Like, between your legs," Brian said, gesturing vaguely at her lower half. "Do you have... an opening? A hole? Or are you, you know... smooth?"

Tansy stared at him for a long moment. Then, her face broke into a smile.

She laughed warmly, like he'd just asked a sweet, silly question. "Why, of course we do, dear! Here, let me show you!"

Before Brian could even formulate a response, Tansy reached down and grabbed the hem of her warm-burgundy skirt.

She lifted it.

Right there.

In the middle of the tavern.

In the morning light.

Without even glancing around.

She hiked the heavy fabric up past her thick, creamy thighs, exposing a pair of lacy, black panties.

She didn't even hesitate. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down to her knees.

Brian's brain short-circuited.

Tansy stood there, her skirt bunched around her waist, her panties around her knees, completely exposing herself to him.

And it wasn't smooth.

It wasn't a doll.

It was a pussy. A real, perfect, beautiful pussy.

The mound was plump and rounded, covered in a soft tuft of neatly trimmed golden-brown curls. Below that, a perfectly formed slit, the puffy lips clean and pink and glistening with the faintest dewy moisture.

Her thighs were thick and creamy and dimpled in all the right places.

"You see?" Tansy said, pointing matter-of-factly at her cunt like she was pointing at a recipe in a cookbook. "Of course we need a hole to let out pee! Nothing to worry about! All the women have one. The men have a little spout, of course. It's perfectly normal!"

Brian couldn't speak.

His dick was so hard in his sage-green pants it felt like it was going to tear through the fabric.

His mouth was completely dry. His heart was pounding in his ears.

She thought it was just a pee-hole.

She had no idea what it could do. What it was for. The pleasure it could give and receive.

She had spent her entire existence with this perfect, sacred, untouched piece of paradise between her thighs, and she thought it was nothing more than a piss spout.

And she had just shown it to him.

A stranger. A traveler. A man.

In her tavern.

Because she wanted to be helpful.

"There now," Tansy said cheerfully, pulling her panties back up and letting her skirt fall down with a soft swish. "All your worries put to rest! Did your land's women not have these? Goodness, what an interesting place you must come from!"

She bustled back behind the bar, completely unaware that she had just handed Brian Kowalski the keys to the kingdom.

She started humming again, polishing another mug.

Brian sat there, frozen on his stool. Slowly, a wide, slow, demented grin spread across his face.

They had the parts.

They just didn't know what they were for.

Every. Single. One.

A virgin.

With no concept of sex.

With no concept of shame.

With no concept of what their bodies could do.

He would be the only man to break them in.

And his dick would be the only dick to pop their cherries.

"Tansy," Brian said slowly, his voice low and thick. "I think I'm going to love it here."

"Oh, that's wonderful, dear!" Tansy beamed, oblivious. "More tea?"

---

Author's note: Decided to post this chapter I'm still alive :D
Basically, an update to the Subscribestar / Patreon situation: I've been approved at Subscribestar, and it's only one message away that you should be able to subscribe to it. I was hoping it would happen last week. I really want to start my Patreon and Subscribestar at the same time, but in case I don't hear from Subscribestar this week, I'll start my Patreon this weekend anyway (with the hope it gets approved this time).
The main difference between these two will be only the pics. I can't do hyperrealistic at Patreon, so the style of the pics in there would be something like this: