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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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Tifa stood in a field of flowers. From left to right, forward and behind, as far as the eye could see, vibrant yellow loosestrifes covered the land. A holy light shimmered from the sky, so bright Tifa could barely stand the sight before blocking it out with her hands.
Whatever it was, whatever floated down from on high, its afterimage burned. She could see tough, muscular arms, a real warrior's build, paired with a single dark wing. Then, she heard cloth ripping. It came with a sharp gust of wind, and a familiar voice uttering words she never thought she would hear. Words that struck a pang of fear deep inside Tifa's rough and tumble heart.
"Do me, Sephiroth! Do me like one of your fangirls!"
Tifa followed the cries as they became more desperate and depraved. Moans corroded into howls of lust. Time and distance stretched on. Walking felt like an eternity - and perhaps it was. Her destination remained on the horizon, but she couldn't stop. Her legs wouldn't let her. As much as she loathed what awaited her, she had to see it. She had to see every part of it laid out before her like a macabre work of art.
Along her path, flowers crushed under the heels of her tough leather boots. At first, the thought of so carelessly trampling these loosestrifes wounded her. That feeling didn't last. With each sickening crunch, their foul odor rose on wisps of smoke. She covered her nose, looking for gaps among the morass. It was no use. They spread like weeds across the land. Their stench fumed around her fingers, squirmed deep inside her nostrils. Nothing she did with her feet could stop those glassy petals from cracking.
Sadness gave way to disgust. The flowers mocked her. They looked warm, inviting. She wanted these flowers to be the same visions of natural beauty she remembered from Aerith's garden. She wanted to pluck one and wear it in her hair, like she did so many years ago. Instead, the trail of busted petals seeping out smog in her wake left a very potent reminder: within every pretty flower hid a nasty surprise, waiting for its chance to break free.
She stomped onward. Black clouds spread across in the sky. By the time she reached the spot, she was ready. She knew. Numb and jaded, she stood there and watched as the purest of maidens writhed with desire under a man who wanted to destroy every part of her.
"Mmm... that's it. Right there. Just a little..." Aerith gasped. She started blinking, arching her back to his deepest thrust yet. "Yes! Yeeesss! I'm your whore, Sephiroth! Your filthy fucking whore!"
After all of Aerith's constant mewling, Sephiroth paused, looked down at the broken woman squirming beneath him, and sneered. "Hmph. So much for the purity of the Ancients."
Aerith's dirty feet dug into the earth. Her hands ripped flowers from their stems. Her moans joined a constant heave in her flushed chest, and her longing gaze at a man pumping into her with cold steely reserve revealed how badly she wanted to be taken by him. Her pink dress lay in tatters at her sides, split open straight down the middle. Her metal bracers glowed. Lust blazed through them as fire, burning her master's wing into their shiny surface.
He owned her now. She wore his brand. Her newly christened slave cuffs coursed with his power, encrusting her hands and forearms with mud as her nails grew into sharp claws. Her bright green eyes turned shallow and feral, the light of nobler thoughts fading away to leave a lusting twinkle.
She was Aerith Gainsborough, last of the Cetra. And as the last goodness within her died, all that remained of the woman who once saved Gaia was a pathetic wretch of a woman begging for her god's cock inside her.
"Please! Don't stop. I need this."
One gentle caress of her master's hand along her thighs, and her whole body quaked. This was it. Cumming. She was cumming. Hips raised, back pressed into the earth, she fell from grace with all the calm and composure of a wild beast. Her nails scraped across Sephiroth's back, leaving flesh wounds that quickly healed. Her legs quivered. Her moans strained through her dry, ravaged throat. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks as she gushed around the mighty Sephiroth's mighty member.
Then, she went limp. Panting, she blinked and stared up at her lord, her master, her savior. Her heart fluttered just gazing upon his greatness, glowing and shaded all at once. She reached up for his face, only for the man to swat it away with a scowl.
"Pathetic. To think a woman as weak as you once resisted me. Why should I make someone so lowly into one of my remnants?"
"Uuuhhnnn... please... my pussy demands it," Aerith mewled. Her voice went husky. Sweat slicked her skin with a sheen like oil.
"That wet quim between your legs is better suited to stray dogs than the likes of me. If this is all the fight this remnant of your spirit has left in it, then I see no reason to gift it with my grace."
"Aerith!" Tifa shouted, sprinting toward the couple. No matter how fast she ran, the fields stretched on, and on, and on.
"Do not fret, Aerith. I have a much better fate in mind for this aspect of you, one I think you will love."
He disappeared, leaving the last Cetra naked, soiled and spent. Cum leaked from her sore sex. Her nipples stood firm and hard, as if waiting at attention for a lover's touch that never came. Squeezing the meager mounds on her chest, Aerith giggled like a fiend and dipped her fingers downward, into the spunk pooling between her legs.
Finally, as if a wall came tumbling down, the illusion that kept Tifa at bay faded. She stumbled forward, lungs burning, calves aching, and dropped to her knees.
"Aerith!"
She panicked. Yanking off her top, she rubbed it across Aerith's used body like a rag, mopping up every bit of sludge and sleaze she could find. It never left. It never went away. It only made her top wetter, thinner, until every fiber dripped with Aerith's sweat and stained light brown with her filth. All the while, Tifa's breasts prickled to a stiff cold wind. It hit fast and hard, as if it knew where and how to prey upon her nerves. She froze. She moaned. She closed her eyes. When they opened, she saw Aerith staring right at her with a dirty grin and dirtier glare.
"Wear it."
"What?"
Tifa blinked. In a flash of a second, she felt the garment clinging to her tits again, sopping wet and reeking of Aerith.
"... Eww." Tifa grimaced.
She looked like a dive bar hooker, showing off the goods through a soiled see-through tanktop smeared with mud and spunk. An obscene squelch erupted from her cleavage as she took great big handfuls of her own boobs. Slimy, grimy, disgusting, the stained cotton trapped her famed twin peaks of Nibelheim in a cloth seal that clung to her delicious curves. She tried to rip it off, and failed. It refused. It held on as if cursed with a life of its own, one dedicated to making her suffer the shame of wearing the sleaziest, scummiest top money could buy.
That's when it dawned on her. "This is a dream, isn't it?"
"Yes. Did you like it?" Aerith asked. "My master finds this fantasy of him repulsive, but what more can you expect from a filthy whore like me?"
As she said this, Aerith's body started to change again. Lustrous hair turned oily and ratty, limp as old straw. Soot spread across her skin, not one spot left clean and unspoiled. The moment Aerith opened her mouth for a crooked grin, black smog fumed out between gleaming white teeth.
"Ugh." Tifa recoiled. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I can, and because I love to see you squirm." With a mischievous smirk, Aerith faded out and reappeared on her feet, standing in front of Tifa. Arms crossed, she loomed over the brawler. "You don't know whether you love or hate seeing me this way."
"That's not true! I would never want this for you."
She disappeared again, this time returning right over Tifa's shoulder. "Yeah, right. We both know you want me to be remembered as dumb, nasty slut, you just don't want to feel bad about it. You don't want to get your hands... dirty. That might be good enough for a vile bitch like me, but that kind of behavior is beneath you, isn't it?"
"Stop! Stop it!"
"But I'm having so much fun. Aren't you?"
Aerith grinned, sauntering around a tired, worn down Tifa. She savored the little touches of Tifa's hands buried in her long dark locks, head hung low, wrapped around her finger like a puppet on strings. Such delicious torment, she needed its taste, and she bent down to snap Tifa from her daze with a good rough pinch to one of the famous perky pair she heard so much about in Midgar's slums.
"Ow!" Tifa yelped.
"Wake up, I'm your dreams come true. For once in your life, you don't have to do the heavy lifting. I'm here, my disgusting garden's ready outside my old house, I've given you all the tools you need."
A stream of obscenities spilled out of Tifa's mouth as Aerith tugged on her tit. Fuck. Shit. Damn. They all felt foreign and gross, as pinprick pain forced her to her feet. When the Cetra clamped down harder, she finally snapped, "Fuck you! Let go of me you filthy fucking-"
She caught herself. She was just about to say it. Biting her tongue, she glared back at the corrupted bitch of an Ancient as Aerith heaved a frustrated sigh.
"My, you're stubborn. You had one job, to admit how badly you want to drag my name through the mud, and you failed. How can I expect you to tell the world how much of a nasty slut I was during our travels if you won't even call me one to my face?"
Turning, Aerith walked toward darkness falling on the horizon. It came closer, ever closer, swallowing the field mile by mile, foot by foot, inch by inch, slowing in its creep toward them. Flies swarmed around her head and shoulders. Her tattered dress rustled in the wind. Glancing back at her prey, Aerith blew a puff of foul smoke from her lips and smiled.
"This isn't over. By the time we're through, you'll see me for what I really am."
As Aerith walked off, everything fell into the void.
- 3
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- 5
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Sepherith