Social Death Debut
A slap of cold leather cracked across my cheek, and my eyes flew open.
The world was a smear. The instant I dragged in a breath, a sewer stench violated my sinuses like a physical assault. Fuck — and why was the floor this cold? Even back when I was a shut-in rotting in the corner of my room, I never slept in a freezer like this.
This definitely wasn't my room.
From a gloomy hallway came the sound of Magenta's boot heels striking the floor.
"Wh… where the hell am I at?"
Half-asleep, the old dialect slipped out before I could stop it.
"I told you to fix the way you talk."
A sharp crackle. Electricity leapt from the choker locked around my throat.
"Aaaagh! Nngh… I-I'm sorryyy…!"
Right. I'd sniped the wrong load of cum, gotten forcibly TS'd by this psycho bitch, and been dragged here. I still couldn't believe the whole thing had gone down in a single day.
I tried to sit up and get my bearings, but I couldn't find my center of gravity and slammed face-first back into the floor.
Wait. This is supposed to be my body?
The moment I looked down, my mind reeled. Where Excalibur used to hang, there was now a strange canyon of emptiness that went well past mere absence. The guy who'd greeted me so vigorously every morning until yesterday had simply evaporated. And forced over the top of that absence was a hideous leather thong with a surface area of approximately zero. On my belly, a sigil had been carved in vivid, obscene detail — a vulva, purple mana coiling around it.
What the fuck! And why are my tits this heavy?!
Two lumps of unpleasant fat blocked my field of view. Every time I dropped to the floor they got crushed underneath me, making it hard to even breathe. My shoulders had narrowed and my hips had gone insanely wide, a wrongness like my entire skeleton had been carved down and bolted back together from scratch. Even the slightest movement made my thigh-flesh rub together and throw off a weird frictional heat. Every step, both legs knocking against each other — the sensation was so alien I thought I'd lose my mind.
Ah, fuck… I'm gonna lose it. What the hell even is this situation…
The voice that came out of me was a woman's: crystal-clear, like a jade bead rolling across a tray, but with a trembling finish that dripped sex. This was insane. I used to sit in my room with dual monitors, watching Magical Girl Peachbomb-noona's streams and mashing the upvote button. How did that life end up like this.
Before I could even process any of it I tried to get up, but my body wouldn't move the way I wanted it to.
"Kyaaah!"
Did that scream just come out of my mouth? Completely fucked. The two massive lumps hanging off my chest got crushed against the hard floor and shot a sharp spike of pain through me.
"Get up, maggot. How long do you intend to lie there in that filthy heap?"
I forced my trembling head up, and Magenta — poured into a latex suit that ran with a sticky black sheen — was looking down at me like I was a bug. A lush cascade of hot-pink hair. That vicious outfit with her cleavage on full display. This was definitely the villainess officer I'd drooled over through the monitor, panting several times a night. But the gap between a 2D screen and reality was heaven and earth. Murderous intent glittered in her purple eyes, like she might tear me apart any second.
"M-Master… no, wait! Noona! I'm just a regular shut-in gooner, I swear! Why'd you have to drag me of all people here?!"
Before I could even finish, another jolt of pain flared across the nape of my neck.
"Guhk!"
A tiny remote sat in Magenta's hand. Her red lips curved into an arc.
"Gooner, what? After you blasted your disgusting load all over my face?"
The sharp toe of her boot forced my chin up. From her body, pressed so close I could barely breathe, came a thick rose scent mixed with a dangerous pheromone that short-circuited the brain.
"I saw everything you did to that scrap of panties in your little room. And those horrific folders you had locked away on your hard drive. What was the name again? Peachbomb Panties 8K Upscaled Uncensored?"
My heart dropped. The sanctuary of my soul — my 3-terabyte porn-dedicated external hard drive — had fallen into this psycho's hands.
"If you don't mind me broadcasting it live to the entire world, go ahead and keep playing the victim. Oh, and I'll IP-trace every last shitpost you dumped as an anon on the gallery and read them all out loud."
"Aaaahng! N-nooo! Please, anything but that! I'll do whatever you say, Magenta!"
It wasn't that I wanted to live. Taking a Social Goroshi over that shit would be a hundred times — no, a thousand times — worse than spending the rest of my life as a villain's barking dog.
At my pathetic about-face, Magenta let out a wicked little laugh of satisfaction.
"Your tone's gotten quite obedient. Then come outside. I should at least give my cute little pawn a tour of the training grounds."
Magenta dragged me along like a dog into the corridors of the villains' subterranean base — the Underground. Rusted pipes, flickering red emergency lights: it looked like the mouth of hell itself.
But the atmosphere was weirdly hostile. As Magenta's heels clicked down the hallway, the bottom-feeder villains clustered in the corners started snickering and whispering with zero shame.
"Huh? Isn't that Magenta?"
"Yeah. Heard she got wrecked by Peachbomb and ran off with nothing but a scrap of panties left. Dropped all the way to A-class, and now she's picked up some scrawny bitch as a slave. Rank tanks and her taste goes to shit too, huh?"
"The slave girl's kinda hot though? Look at those hips. Think I should ask to borrow her later? Bet she'd come cheap."
A cold sweat ran down my spine.
These fucking bastards? Who the hell do they think they're looking at! Until yesterday I was a proper male with it dangling between my legs just like you assholes! Don't you dare try that shit with me!
I hurled every curse I had internally and imagined kicking these sons of bitches in the solar plexus dozens of times — but in reality, my body was trembling with shame, reacting to their stares whether I wanted it to or not.
"Hiiik…! M-Masterrr… their eyes are so scaryyy…"
My cheeks burned hot and my legs twisted together on their own. I hated this body that got turned on from nothing but someone's gaze.
"Hmph."
Magenta's footsteps stopped. The easy smile that had been playing on her lips vanished without a trace. In an instant, violet mana burst from her hand and struck the snickering villain — the one still packing an Excalibur — square in the groin.
"GYAAAAAAAAH—!!!"
The villain grabbed his balls and rolled on the floor. Watching a massive man foam at the mouth and convulse was terror itself. Magenta crushed his head under her boot heel and smiled, venomous.
"Trash that can't keep its mouth shut needs its balls popped to learn a lesson. Say one more word like that and next time I'll pop your brain. Understood?"
Hiiik…! Crazy bitch… she's actually insane… Rank dropped and now she's got nothing to lose… so this is what a real villain looks like…
I dodged the flying blood this way and that, not daring to make a sound, burning that brutal summary execution into both eyes. My Excalibur was already gone, but a phantom pain bloomed anyway. Caught in the illusion that my crotch was throbbing, I unconsciously clamped my thighs tight.
Magenta glanced once at the foaming wreck on the floor like he was an insect, then took the lead again. Leaving the stench of blood behind, we arrived at her private office.
The iron door slammed shut and the double lock clicked into place. My heart sank with it. There was nowhere left to run.
"Now then. Shall we begin the real practical training?"
Magenta perched on the edge of her desk and crossed her legs. The cleavage peeking through her black latex suit was dizzying, but my own life was dizzier. The scream of the villain whose balls had just been popped was still ringing in my ears.
"Nnhaa… M-Masterrr… I-I'm really just a regular civilian thoughhh…"
"……"
"What kind of villain training is this for a NEET who just watched magical girl fancams in his room… sob, just hand me over to the cops and I'll turn myself in quietly… okay?"
I put on my best pitiful act, even throwing in some fake tears, trying to squeeze out as much sympathy as I could.
Fuck, why does this kind of shit keep coming out of my mouth…!
But Magenta already had that damned pink remote in her hand.
Click.
"Haaaaahn-ahh!! ♡"
The instant the remote's dial turned, the sigil on my lower belly flared red-hot and a wave of pleasure slammed through my spinal cord. The panties vibrated like they'd been fitted with a motor, putting my paper-thin willpower through a blender. My brain flashed white. I heard the snap of reason's last thread.
"Don't make me laugh. A pervert who stole my underwear and jerked off to it? Now that the sigil's carved into you, you're my puppet. If you want to be a villain, you drop that fake sense of justice. Understood?"
"Hyaaahn! I-I understanddd! Nngh! I-I shall learn it with my bodyyy, most thoroughlyyy…! ♡"
What kind of training is this?! This is just torture, fuck!! Send me home!! My comfortable life!!
My mind was screaming for help, but what came out of my mouth was a seductive female moan. My back arched like a bow on its own and my hands clawed at the floor. The disconnect between words and actions made me even more unhinged — an infinite hell where I had to feel shame at the things I myself was saying.
"Oh my. Our little hunting bitch. Your body's answering so honestly. Training you really is a delight."
Magenta seized my chin. The cold touch of her leather glove met my burning cheek.
"You look worried about how you'll fight a magical girl in the field… Relax. That choker around your neck isn't an ordinary shock collar."
"Y-yeees? W-what does that meeean…"
"This is an automatic combat system infused with my mana. Once you're deployed, it'll forcibly puppet your body into veteran-level action. All you have to do is surrender your body and enjoy the electric rush. As a bonus, arrogant villain-exclusive one-liners will come spilling out of your mouth too."
Insane! So I'm just a punching bag getting wrecked in VRChat?! A passive life with zero input from my own will?!
"And don't even dream of getting cute ideas and whining to Peachbomb, uwu I'm actually a guy who got kidnapped T_T or some other garbage. The moment you do, your life as a member of society is over."
Magenta pressed another button on the remote, and a massive screen on the wall flickered to life. There it was… the hard drive from my bedroom computer, displayed in full. Hidden folders, encrypted files — every last one of them laid bare in all their pathetic glory.
"The instant you slip my control, I'll dump every last bit of this data onto live cameras worldwide and right in front of Peachbomb. How's that? Scarier than dying, isn't it? You'll spend the rest of your life treated as a pervert stalker."
"Aaaaahng!! Nooo!! Th-that's more precious than my life… I mean, that's a Social Goroshi!! Please, anything but that, Masterrr! I'd rather you just beat meee!!"
You crazy fucking bitch!! Give me back my hard drive right now!!
Terror and shame punched up through the pleasure. My face went past pale and turned blue. Having my hard drive raided was a thousand times scarier than having my spinal cord ripped out. This was a matter of human dignity. I'd rather get beaten to death by a villain than make my news debut as a nationwide pervert with a miserable life.
"Heh. I knew you'd say that. Behave and do as I say, and I'll keep that filthy taste of yours a secret for life. I promise."
Magenta smiled in satisfaction and changed the channel on the screen. The feed showed Peachbomb, smiling radiantly on a special outdoor stage downtown, broadcasting live — the dazzling pink smile of a magical girl.
"What perfect timing. A debut stage, all set up for us."
Magenta's eyes flashed — a predator locking onto prey. She yanked the leash hard.
Fuck… I'm completely screwed.
Held hostage by a sadism-MAX female officer with my hard drive as leverage, a miserable shut-in gooner was about to be forced into the worst debut of his life: violating his favorite magical girl.
I should've just walked past those panties yesterday instead of picking them up. Too late for regrets now.