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Sepherith	By : salarta Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 6016 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
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Author's Note: Hello everybody! When I wrote the first chapter, I had inklings of this idea, but I never had the drive to do anything more with Sepherith until xMLx took the time to draw some awesome NSFW art based on the first chapter, which can be seen at http://www.hentai-foundry.com/pic-156124.html . I'm going to thank him again for it here, because I love it! Anyway, as is a bad habit of mine, I took this chapter more seriously than my original one, and I think that affected quality. Is it better? Worse? How so? Any feedback is appreciated!

Sepherith floated on the wind. Her silver hair, imbued with the almighty design of her master creator Sephiroth, billowed around her jacket's collar, light and wispy as feathers. With her newfound magical strength, she landed at the doorstep of her one first chosen victim, the perfect target to symbolize her allegiance to the great man who gave her rebirth true meaning.
She stood before the house of her old self's adoptive mother, Elmyra Gainsborough.
She grinned as she peered back at the destruction she wrought. Already, the lush fantastical garden of rosy flowers and green leaves once tended by the last of the Cetra wilted into a tangled black mess from her taint, decaying by the very presence of her foul, corrupted soul among them. A rush of motion from the front door greeted Sepherith's cheek. She kept her gaze untoward to savor the very sound of the maid of the house's reaction to her good work.
"Can I he- oh my goodness! What happened out here!" Elmyra's view snuck between the doorframe and the stranger's shoulders, at the ravaged wonder of a downtrodden Mako-sucking city.
Sepherith's voice curled like a cat's tail as she spoke, turning to Elmyra with her dull pink lips equally risen to a smirk. "Hello, Miss Gainsborough. It's so good to see you again. Perhaps... you have time to sate the desires of the messenger for this world's one true god?"
She crept into the abode with all the flair of a snake, sliding her arm across the oak brown door before her quarry could seal her out. Not that it would have done much more than delay her; within Sepherith's blood coursed the raw might of Jenova. Wood splintered at the merest application of her strength, even with the supple soft state of her languid arms.
Her weakness would fade in time. Starting here.
"What do you want?" Elmyra stammered, dazed by a guest turned invader in her own home. She stepped backward, to reach for the safety of some chair or table between them, only to fail as the mystery woman stole her wrist and forced her hand to rub a tit bursting with abundance underneath a black leather minijacket.
"What do I want, Miss Gainsborough?" Sepherith asked, coolly confident as she journeyed a razor sharp nail to the cleft of Elmyra's white-aproned green dress and sliced it clean to her navel. "I want you. I want to fuck the dutiful widowed housewife right out of you, and savor every second of it through eyes that once belonged to your daughter."
A panicked pause washed over Elmyra. She paled and trembled, rubbing a hand over the stranger's face as she gathered her wits to place the shade of green in her eyes... the style of her braided hair... the neat, telltale tying of the string about her neck, black as night. "Aerith?"
"Hehehe... no. Aerith was a failure, a little wisp of a woman too weak to admit her true calling as a remnant of the great Sephiroth. My name is Sepherith, and you, Miss Gainsborough, will be the first of many to taste and feel the glories bestowed upon me by my creator."
Against the faint protests of her prey, Sepherith pressed her lips to the middle-aged Elmyra, tongue dancing against tongue as the blackness of Geostigma poured as mist out the corners of her mouth. She dug lower, groping the wild womanhood between Elmyra's thighs as wetness ran across her palm.
"Mmm... you're already enjoying this. I should have known you would fall easily, just like your daughter."
"Please... stop.... you don't have to..."
Elmyra gasped. Her dress, tattered and torn, lost the last of its hold when Sepherith ripped at the seams. It hung loosely now, draping her backside and spilling off the rounded edge of the dining room table as Sepherith forced her to lie flat-back across its top.
"Be still, Miss Gainsborough," Sepherith commanded, parting their torrid kiss to slink back and fondle her codpiece with flirty promise. "I assure you, my manhood will bring you to such heights of pleasure that you will soon beg for my touch."
The titan between her legs rose from its leather confines, popping its cover open to present itself with exquisite beauty. Every wrinkle and vein swelled with blood, Jenova's blood, an offer that throbbed against the sheer white cotton wall between her thick bulb and the prize of Elmyra's sopping cleft. Sepherith sniffed her prey's heat and viciously grinned at the surprise reveal crisping her nostrils.
"I can smell your want. You want me inside you. You need me inside you. And how could you not, when a woman of your age has the honor of being broken in for her first time by a remnant of the great Sephiroth?"
A mournful, moaning wail, of shame and of defeat, escaped Elmyra's lips. The fierce musky scent of Sepherith burned in her nose, in her chest, breaking past the fragrant potted flower vase toppled beside her head. Her arms met the invader and weakly, wantingly caressed Sepherith's arms. She peered into her rapist's face, explored those crooked eyebrows and the gazing slit of emerald green cat eyes drinking in her features, and despaired.
Her heart thumped. The pit in her stomach swirled. Black taint flowed from her mouth, hot breaths blowing across the pasty cheeks of a cunning master of corruption that delighted in every second of her fall. She shivered with anticipation at the barrage idling at the gates, teasing her with revelries to come. Pure evil stared her in the face, and she pursed her lips for it as Sepherith drew in closer with the grin of a sly wolf ready to pounce on its catch.
"Miss Gainsborough."
The beast speaking her name flitted each syllable in her ears like birdsong, joyously gracing her with a measured, lusty coo.
"Do you want me inside you?"
Her defenses fell, shattering much as one of her cherished flower vases against the kitchen floor. In her mind, she saw a brown-haired little girl, gently smiling back at her with all the boundless love in her Cetra heart. Bygone days of bliss and sunlight, of a sweet child playing among her flowers in an innocent white dress, tortured her with the woman Aerith used to be ... and the monster she had become.
She gazed upon the wicked echo of her daughter on this monster's face, the careful creases and curves at once familiar and bizarre, a mirage of feelings that assaulted her every sense.
Sepherith could take her. In her own home, surrounded by flowers sown by Aerith herself, Sepherith could have her way with her and leave her a broken mess splayed across the kitchen table. Permission to freely enter her with the corrupted flesh of her dear, beloved daughter was a sick game meant to tease and mock her raging desires, the last cruel test of her will against this beast... and she gave it.
"Yeeeesss. Do me, Sepherith. I offer myself to you... as a tribute," she swooned, growing weaker every second she lay exposed yet unsated.
Sepherith grinned, dark yet glinting in the light, at the bounty spread beneath her. "How touching. What would Aerith think if she saw you today? Do you think she would be happy to see her own mother spreading her legs to get fucked by her precious little girl reborn as her killer? Would it get her panties wet to know you love my cock and all it has to offer more than you ever loved her?"
"Please... please..." Elmyra mewled like a milk-starved cat. Between moist thighs and the rise and fall of her pale hips, her soft untrimmed sex pleaded for release.
"Is that all you can muster? Frail, pathetic begging for table scraps like a dog?" Sepherith sighed. The catch... all too easy. She would need to find stronger prey on her next hunt, some man or woman able to resist her temptations long enough to make fitting sport of their defeat. For now, she would savor her prize. "Very well. Enjoy the dick of your daughter, reborn in the image of her killer."
In one clean, swift stroke, Sepherith's manhood tore Elmyra's cotton panties asunder. It was the stuff of legends. Its length, the prodigious member of the great herald of Sephiroth, pierced the very seat of her virtue like the blade tip of Masamune, streaming down her virgin channel to reach those hidden sacred depths once forbidden to the lady's own hands.
"OHHH!"
Amid the quakes and gasps, Elmyra raked her fingernails down the back of her master's thick black jacket. Her legs slackened when Sepherith drew back, only to quiver and pincer about her partner's waist with each fresh thrust. All the while, as Sepherith pumped into her loins, one sense eclipsed even the expert ministrations pressed inside her.
Beneath the leather was a lover, strong and vile, rippling with raw might.
Rugged yet soft, handsome yet beautiful, Sepherith's manly spunk perfumed every fiber of her being. Elmyra dreamily groaned, basking in the smell's tickle cascading into her soul and swelling a warmth to her womb unlike the majestic bulb of her master's member. Glassy eyes remitted a powerful surge pulsing downward, into her red-swelling mound of Venus. She could feel herself cresting to the high of her sexual need, back rising to meet a building climax....
"Not yet," Sepherith commanded. "I am not ready to cum just yet, slave. I want to savor my conquest longer, and you have yet to think about your daughter."
Sepherith's palm descended upon Elmyra's chest. At first pressure, then magic, filled her palm, pulsing her darkness into the defeated woman. Soon, Elmyra's risen hips slipped low, a frozen orgasm burning in her sex. The torment written on the dutiful housewife's face was exquisite, a succession of misty black puffs from her lips, fluttering eyes and clammy flushed skin that drove Sepherith to new horizons of lust.
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Sepherith's seed dribbled from the loosened sex of her conquest. Red and white, the pool swallowed the table between Elmyra's legs until it spilled over the edge about her knees. As the tainted remnant concealed her package, she sat in her chair and smiled at her freshly minted servant.
Elmyra Gainsborough. A charming, loving mother... broken. Her mop of woody brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, freed from its neat bun in the throes of their tryst. Dazzled blinking revealed the heights of climax from which she fell, the ripped rags of her dress drenched in her own sweat. Every inch of her... tainted. Twisted. Used.
"Elmyra," Sepherith asked, "How does it feel to be the first Consort of Sepherith?"
"It feels... it feels..." She gazed at her belly, her firm slender belly, and stroked its bare expanse... softly smiling. "It's wonderful. I can feel the Seed of Jenova growing inside me. In a few months, everyone will know I betrayed my daughter."
"Much sooner than that," Sepherith assured, rubbing the front of her codpiece. "I have a mission for you. One that will require you to change out of those tattered rags. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Honey Bee Inn?"
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Sepherith