How to Deflower a Candy Kingdom

The basement apartment smelled like a rotting corpse had fucked a wheel of moldy cheese and then died all over again.

It was a potent, gag-inducing miasma of stale sweat, unwashed ass, week-old pepperoni grease, and the unmistakable, bleach-like tang of dried semen.

In the center of this biohazard wasteland sat Brian Kowalski.

Twenty years old. Three hundred and ten pounds of pale, doughy, gelatinous flesh.

He hadn't seen the sun in two weeks.

He hadn't felt the touch of water from a showerhead in four days.

He was a creature of the dark, illuminated only by the harsh, blue-white glare of three crusty computer monitors.

Surrounding his reinforced computer chair was a moat of empty Mountain Dew bottles, greasy pizza boxes, and a small fortune in obscenely proportioned hentai figurines, their enormous plastic tits pressed against their clear display boxes.

Brian was currently in the trenches of an eighteen-hour marathon.

His stained, oversized sweatpants were shoved down around his thick ankles, exposing his pale, hairy thighs and the cavernous, sweaty fold of his gut.

Buried somewhere beneath that fleshy overhang was his cock, currently raw, red, and swollen from hours of relentless friction.

He was gripping his meat with a fist slicked in a mixture of cheap lotion and his own pre-cum, beating his dick like it owed him money.

On the center screen, a scene of unspeakable, depraved anime filth was playing out in glorious 4K.

It was a chaotic, tentacle-filled gangbang featuring heavily modified, bimbofied elves getting every hole violently stretched and stuffed with glowing demon seed.

"Oh fuck," Brian grunted, a thick line of drool swinging from his chapped lips.

"Yeah, stretch that little slut's asshole out. Fill her up."

His breathing was ragged, wet, and labored. His heart, an organ that had known nothing but a diet of processed cheese, refined sugar, and **** sedentary existence, was close to a catastrophic failure.

But Brian didn't care.

He was close.

The pressure in his balls was agonizing, a heavy, throbbing ache demanding release.

He pumped his fist faster, the wet schlick-schlick-schlick sound echoing in the filthy basement.

"Come on," he wheezed, his eyes rolling back into his head, his double chin trembling with exertion. "Just... a little... more!"

He tightened his grip, his thumb pressing hard against his frenulum.

The elves on screen screamed in digitized ecstasy as a tidal wave of animated cum erupted into their gaping maws.

Brian let out a strangled, pathetic pig-squeal. His hips bucked upward, thrusting his fat pelvis forward.

A thick, ropey wad of hot jizz shot from his piss-slit.

It arched through the air, splattering directly onto the mechanical keyboard, sinking between the WASD keys.

A second glob shot out, hitting the bezel of the main monitor.

And then, a sledgehammer hit him in the chest.

The intense, blinding euphoria of his orgasm was instantly replaced by a crushing, paralyzing agony.

The blood drained from his face.

His left arm went completely numb.

"Hrrrk," Brian choked out, his eyes bugging out of his head.

He clutched at his chest, his greasy, cum-slicked fingers smearing across his stained t-shirt.

His heart, completely giving out under the strain of his massive weight and the adrenaline of his intense masturbation session, simply stopped.

No dramatic final words.

No flashing life-before-his-eyes.

Just a sudden, pathetic, mechanical failure.

Brian slumped forward.

His heavy, sweaty forehead slammed into the keyboard, mashing a dozen keys at once.

His lifeless body settled into the chair, his limp, shrinking dick still hanging out of his pants, a final, pathetic string of jizz slowly oozing from the tip and dripping onto his thigh.

The monitors bathed his dead body in the glow of hardcore monster porn.

Four hours later, the paramedics would arrive after his mother called in a wellness check.

They would find him there, stiffening in his own filth.

His mother would take one look at the freeze-frame of a tentacle sliding into a cartoon elf's throat, look down at her son's exposed, crusty genitals, and promptly faint backward into a pile of empty Doritos bags.

---

Brian didn't feel dead. In fact, he felt remarkably light.

He opened his eyes.

The basement, the monitors, the smell of stale cum—it was all gone.

He was floating in an infinite, blindingly white void.

He looked down at himself. He was still wearing his stained t-shirt and his sweatpants were still bunched around his ankles.

He hurriedly pulled them up, his face flushing with a sudden sense of embarrassment.

"What the fuck?" he muttered, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness. "Did... did I pass out?"

"You died, Brian."

The voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was a voice that vibrated in his very teeth, a sound of absolute, unquestionable authority.

Brian spun around.

A massive desk, carved from what looked like solid pearl and gold, had materialized out of the white mist.

Sitting behind it was a figure.

It didn't have a distinct face, just a silhouette made of pure, piercing light that hurt Brian's eyes to look at directly.

"G-God?" Brian squeaked, his knees knocking together.

"I am the Administrator of this sector of the afterlife," the entity said. It sounded infinitely tired.

It picked up a scroll of parchment that seemed to stretch down for miles. "But yes, you might know me as ‘God’. Or sometimes Yahweh. But it’s not important, names are not what define us. Let us review your life, Brian Kowalski. Twenty years on Earth."

The entity known as “God” unrolled the scroll.

"No murders," the entity murmured. "No thefts. No ****. You haven't started any wars, you haven't oppressed the poor. By all traditional metrics, you are not a candidate for eternal damnation in Hell."

Brian let out a massive sigh of relief. "Oh, thank fuck. Heaven, here I come. Are there anime girls in Heaven? Like, real ones?"

The entity slowly lowered the scroll. The light flared, suddenly hot and angry.

"Do not interrupt me, mortal," it boomed. "You are not going to Hell because you lack the ambition for true evil. You have done absolutely nothing. For the last four years, your entire existence has consisted of consuming heavily processed carbohydrates and aggressively masturbating to... to..."

The entity paused, looking closer at the scroll.

"'Futanari goblin inflation'?" the entity read, its voice dripping with cosmic disgust. "'Mind-break **** bimbofication'? 'Tentacle urethral insertion'? Brian, dear child, what is wrong with you?"

Brian shifted uncomfortably on his feet, rubbing his fat neck. "Hey, man, don't kink-shame. It's just pixels. I didn't hurt anybody."

"You hurt yourself," the entity snapped. "You hurt the very concept of human dignity. You are a localized black hole of absolute depravity and sloth. I cannot send you to Hell, but I absolutely, under no circumstances, will allow you to bring your perversions into the Kingdom of Heaven."

Panic seized Brian's chest. "Wait, so where do I go? Purgatory? Reincarnation? Turn me into a slime in a fantasy world! I know how this works, I've seen the anime!"

"You require purification," the entity declared, ignoring him. "Your soul is stained with a thick layer of digital filth. You need to learn the value of wholesome things. Kindness. Friendship. Fresh air. Innocent joy. Therefore, you are being remanded to a remedial afterlife sector."

"Remedial?" Brian echoed, not liking the sound of that.

"A world untouched by the corrosive rot of your modern Earth. A world of absolute, unyielding purity. It is a realm of sunshine, sugar, and simple morality. There, you will learn to appreciate goodness. You will learn manners. You will understand the magic of friendship."

Brian stared at the glowing being, his brain desperately trying to process this. "Wait. Hold on. Is there... is there internet there? Do they have wifi?"

"There is no technology," the entity said flatly. "There is no internet. There is no pornography."

Brian's heart, which had already stopped once today, felt like it was going to stop again. "No porn? None? For how long?"

"Until your soul is scrubbed clean of its disgusting urges. It could take a century. It could take a millennium. But you will remain there until you are pure."

"No! Wait! I'll be good! I'll delete my hard drive! I'll go to church! You can't send me somewhere with no porn! I'll die! Again!"

"Goodbye, Brian," the entity said, raising a glowing hand. "May the sugar cleanse your filthy spirit."

The entity snapped its non-existent fingers.

The floor beneath Brian vanished.

He plummeted into the void, screaming at the top of his lungs, his arms flailing wildly.

The pure white light shattered into a dizzying kaleidoscope of blinding, pastel colors. Pink, baby blue, mint green, and lemon yellow swirled around him in a sickening vortex.

The wind roared in his ears, but it didn't smell like ozone or cold air.

It smelled like a fucking bakery.

The scent of vanilla extract, spun sugar, and warm chocolate filled his nostrils, so thick and overpowering it made him gag.

He was falling faster and faster, a three-hundred-pound meatball hurtling toward the earth.

FLOOF.

Brian slammed into something impossibly soft.

It was like crashing into a giant mound of fiberglass insulation, except it was sticky and smelled intensely of strawberry.

He bounced once, twice, and tumbled head over heels, tearing through the pink, fluffy substance until he finally hit solid ground with a heavy, ungraceful thud.

He lay there for a long moment, groaning, his massive belly heaving.

He wasn't dead.

He wasn't in pain.

He was just... sticky.

He wiped a handful of the pink fluff from his face and tasted it.

It was cotton candy.

Actual, literal cotton candy.

Brian pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, panting heavily.

He looked around, his jaw dropping open.

He was sitting in the middle of a vibrant, neon-colored meadow.

But the grass wasn't grass.

It was long, thin blades of lime-green licorice.

A few yards away, a rushing river flowed over smooth, caramel-colored rocks, the liquid a rich, dark chocolate.

Giant, towering lollipops the size of oak trees dotted the landscape, their swirling, multicolored heads glistening under a sky that was a soft, unbroken shade of pastel pink.

There was no sun, just a warm, omnipresent glow that bathed the entire world in a cheerful, shadowless light.

"What... the fuck..." Brian breathed, hauling his massive bulk to his feet.

He looked down at himself. He was still in his cum-stained sweatpants and his greasy gray t-shirt.

He still had his massive gut, his flabby man-tits, and his unkempt, greasy brown hair.

“What the fuck?”, he shouted to himself. “Where’s my cool, muscular fantasy body I’m supposed to get after I get isekai’d? Fuck you, God!”

He waved his middle finger towards the clouds like an actual lunatic.

"This is a joke," he muttered, turning in a slow circle. "This is a fucking nightmare. No internet. No porn. I'm stuck in a goddamn preschool cartoon."

He stomped his foot, crushing a patch of peppermint flowers.

A wave of profound, soul-crushing despair washed over him.

How was he supposed to survive here? What was he supposed to do all day? Learn about the magic of friendship? Sing songs with talking animals? The very thought made his skin crawl.

He wanted his dark basement. He wanted his crusty keyboard. He wanted to watch bimbos get railed by monsters.

A faint fluttering sound caught his attention.

Brian looked up. A butterfly, its wings made of shimmering, translucent pink crystal, fluttered gracefully through the air.

It circled his head twice, leaving a faint trail of sparkling dust in its wake, before gently coming to land directly on the tip of his nose.

Brian crossed his eyes to look at it. The butterfly wiggled its tiny crystal antennae at him, as if offering a cheerful, pure greeting to the realm's newest arrival.

Brian raised his thick, meaty hand and violently swatted his own face.

Smack.

The crystal butterfly shattered into a dozen pieces, tinkling softly as the shards rained down onto his dirty shirt.

"Fuck off," Brian grunted, wiping a smear of sparkling dust from his nose.

He started to trudge forward, his heavy boots crushing the lime-green licorice grass with a wet, sticky crunch.

The saccharine smell of the world was giving him a pounding headache.

He stopped.

The sound of soft, sweet humming drifted through the sugar-heavy air.

It sounded like a cartoon bluebird, sickeningly cheerful and melodic.

Brian crept forward, pushing aside the broad, sticky leaves of a peppermint bush.

He blinked. Then, he rubbed his eyes and blinked again.

A few yards away, in the middle of a garden made of spun-sugar roses and crystallized honey-ferns, was a girl.

And she was bending over.

Brian’s jaw slacked, a fresh string of drool pooling at the corner of his chapped mouth. She was wearing a pastel-green dress with a little white apron tied around her waist, looking like some kind of storybook milkmaid.

But the dress had ridden up as she leaned over to tend to a patch of glittery soil, exposing her entire bootylicious ass.

It was a perfect, tight, heart-shaped ass. The kind of ass that looked like it was explicitly designed to be relentlessly pounded.

Her skirt was hiked up high enough to completely expose a pair of pristine, white cotton panties with little pink bows on the sides.

The thin fabric was stretched taut over the juicy swell of her cheeks, digging deep into the crack of her pristine ass.

As she shifted her weight to pull a weed, her ass jiggled—a mesmerizing, bouncy quiver of soft, feminine flesh. Brian’s eyes darted down her smooth, creamy thighs, noting the lack of any blemishes, all the way down to her cute little ankle boots.

Then he looked at her upper half.

She had thick, wavy chestnut-brown hair woven into a loose side braid, decorated with tiny candy flowers. As she reached forward, her torso twisted, and Brian caught a side-profile view of a pair of heavy, perky C-cup tits straining against the bodice of her dress, gravity pulling them into a mouth-watering shape.

Down in Brian’s filthy, unwashed sweatpants, a sudden, familiar twitch occurred.

His dick, previously shriveled and traumatized from his earlier ****-by-masturbation, began to stir, swelling with thick, heavy blood.

Wait a minute, Brian thought, his degenerate brain doing the math.

God said this world was pure. Innocent. Untouched by depravity.

He watched the girl hum a little tune, completely unaware that a three-hundred-pound predator was eye-fucking the absolute shit out of her tight little ass.

She had zero situational awareness.

Zero shame.

She was just bending over in the middle of an open field, flashing her sweet pussy and tight asshole to the world like it was nothing.

A slow, greasy, yellow-toothed grin spread across Brian’s face.

Maybe… if this world was truly that pure… if they really didn't know anything about sex, or shame, or manipulation...

This isn't a punishment, Brian realized, his cock throbbing hard against his zipper.

This is an all-you-can-eat buffet.

He deliberately stepped heavily on a brittle candy-twig.

SNAP.

The girl gasped softly and stood up, turning around.

She was breathtakingly gorgeous. She had a sweet, heart-shaped face, a cute beauty mark just below her left eye, and warm hazel eyes that were wide with surprise.

Her lips were soft and naturally pink. She didn't look scared or disgusted by the sweaty, obese, foul-smelling monster standing in the bushes.

Instead, her face lit up with a radiant, blindingly innocent smile.

"Oh, my goodness!" she gasped, clapping her small hands together over her chest, which made her lovely tits bounce delightfully. "Hello there! I didn't hear you approach! I'm Flora! Are you a new friend?"

Brian stepped out of the bushes, trying to hide his erection inside his sweatpants.

"Yeah," Brian rasped, his voice thick with dark lust. "I'm a new friend."

---

Author's note: Yeah, so, this'll be my third story, one that's running beside My Idle Harem and The Submission Accelerator. The inspiration for this story is pretty simple: both MIH and TSA are massive epics that are going to be running for a long time (MIH will be a bit shorter though.) I wanted a fun, faster-paced side project that has a clear ending in store. Right now, I'm feeling this story will be about 70 chapters, give or take. Once the story wraps up, I'll be replacing this slot with another equally "short" story.

A quick note for other writers:

You are absolutely free to write branching paths. My only rule: if you are writing a branching path that continues directly from my latest chapter, I'll only publish your work until after I have published my next chapter. I just want to make sure that my storyline always stays as the first link in the chapter list, like the selfish bastard I am.

Chapter 2 will be dropping in a day or two, along with huge news!