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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
- 4
- 5
Author's note: This will very likely be the last chapter of "Sepherith" I write. This wraps up my original plans for Tifa, plans that were meant to be one chapter long when I started. It's always possible that I may revisit some day, but it's not planned. Thanks to everyone who read, voted and reviewed!
Tifa's head lolled. The pillow felt so nice, cradling her neck almost as lovingly as the springy mattress beneath her. Next came smell, fresh breaths drawing in a most divine scent. It crept up her nose, made her skin sizzle with delight. She could hardly think. She could hardly feel. A dull horny ache in her chest and loins consumed her, trading off dreams full of nice hard cocks and Aerith's filthy flower habit for the perk of a perky pair.
Moaning into her tasty gag, Tifa lightly tugged on each black ribbon binding her wrists to the bed frame. She whimpered. Denied. The wood posts noisily creaked, but they wouldn't break, foiling her cunt's cries for release. Hazed with lust, she rubbed her thick thighs and lay there in brainless bliss until she heard... her.
"Hi."
Tifa's eyes shot open, glaring at the cruel bitch. The woman's name pounded in her head, ceaselessly jabbing and jabbing and jabbing until Tifa had no choice but to growl it out. "Sepherith."
"At last, I get to hear one of you fucks call me by my real name."
The sight of Sepherith drained all desire from Tifa's worn out body. Sharp, wicked eyes. Glorious shining silver bangs, flowing as far down as the braid at her back. Frosted eyebrows. A dirty, vile smirk. That was Sepherith, standing at her bedside with one hand squeezing a tit within her translucent dress and the other fondling her cod piece.
Except, it wasn't her bedside. It was Aerith's. Light beamed in from one big triangle window. At a different angle, the sun might have spared her the room's horrors - its filth-stained rugs, its paint-chipped walls, the three vases of black and withered flowers wafting off their putrid stench. Instead, light lingered on those aspects and drew them out, as if taunting her with the mess she now found herself lying in.
"Don't you love what I've done with the place?" Sepherith goaded. "Dirty, broken, used, a fitting hovel for the whore that used to live here. Before long, no one will remember Aerith Gainsborough as anything other than this disgusting little fetish freak who loved wallowing in her own filth."
Thrashing, screaming, the salty spunk-soaked rag in Tifa's mouth muffled rage bursting from her throat. She hated how much she loved its warm, gooey taste. She hated how it tingled on her tongue, oozed on her lips, Sepherith's dark jizz tainting every inch of her mouth. Flexing her arms and kicking her legs, she thought she heard a strand snap on one of the ribbons tying her down and poured more strength into her sore muscles.
"You'll have to forgive me, Tifa. I've taken the liberty of fucking your mouth while you were asleep. You always said the best part of waking up is the taste of last night's dick in your mouth."
She froze the moment Sepherith popped open her cod piece. There it was. Her one and only joy. Her pussy yearned for it, begged for it, mewled with a forced full-body shiver. Her heart and ironclad fighter's will melted the very second she inhaled its hot, hot musk. That thick delicious bulb. That pallid tone turning to a rosy red flush. That throbbing vein from base to tip. Slight curve. Glistening precum. Held by slender fingers in a vice grip.
"Is this what you want?" Sepherith mocked.
"Mmph, mmmmnoooo..."
Yes. She wanted it. She wanted it bad. She whimpered as Sepherith jerked it hard. She winced when its release smacked her on the nose like a misbehaving pup. Every pass of the thin veiny prick waving in her face brought fresh new orgasmic pangs straight up her spine, exploding in her big lusty tits.
"How does it feel to be on the receiving end of a cocktease, whore?"
Tifa sucked in a juicy spunk-scented breath as Sepherith's festering aroma and sharp words squirmed an epiphany to her feeble brain.
She understood. Tifa Lockhart, proud sole owner of Seventh Heaven, finally understood. She was in Hell. This was her punishment for all those years she answered men slapping her boobs and grabbing her ass with swift kicks to the junk. This was her punishment for swaying her hips in her short skirt, bouncing her bust in her tight top, and expecting drunkards not to crudely leer at her sleazeball body. She had no right to grouse and gripe about barflies buzzing in from the streets when she flexed and sweated in almost nothing before them.
Her protests fell silent. For the first time in her life, she knew what it meant to be one of those perverts she cruelly denied. The dick she so desperately craved dangled arms' length yet out of reach. Her head swam with fantasies of kneeling before its majesty, fondling its length, letting it jab inside her hot waiting mouth. Fleeting images of what could be, what should be, haunted her limp limbs with phantom sensations of carrying out the acts. Despite staring right at it, she could feel her hands caressing Sepherith's cockmeat Masamune with a loving touch.
Then she remembered her current state and heaved a longing sigh.
Sepherith grinned. "Well what do you know. They say music soothes the savage beast, but it looks like cock is far more potent for the likes of you."
Tifa found herself eagerly nodding. Had she always been this way? Had she always succumbed so quickly to the promise of a good dick? She didn't know or care anymore. All that remained was Sepherith's turgid member, fattening up right before her bulging eyes. Drool joined the spooge in her gag, as her cheeks and funbags - did she always call them funbags? - turned a brilliant shade of horny crimson.
"It's such a shame. I was going to spend more time on foreplay, but you're such a desperate little whore, I'm going to..." Sepherith paused, baiting that look. The glint of need reflected in Tifa's gaze brought exactly the surge of strength she needed. Letting her member shrink, Sepherith stuffed it back into her cod piece with the naughtiest smirk to ever grace a fallen maiden's face. "... have to refuse."
"Humh?!"
"You see, Miss Lockhart, I am a remnant of the one true god, while you are less than a beast. At least beasts can appreciate a fine symphony more than their need to fuck anything that moves. I'm afraid you're no longer worthy of my member or my seed."
The fierce wail bursting from Tifa's lungs was truly something to behold. Mad with rage and lust, she finally snapped her bonds and lunged for Sepherith. She met air, then door, then cloth and soft flesh as wood floorboards splintered against her knees. Pulling off her gag, she tossed her dark raven locks back and froze when she saw the woman lying beneath her.
"... Aerith?"
She couldn't believe it. No black ribbons tied to silver strands. No filthy hands or tattered dress. The brunette positively glowed affection, with a gentle smile so very much like the one she wore the day she died. Tracing lovely creases on Aerith's cheeks, Tifa marveled at the miracle lying before her.
"Is it really you?" Tifa asked.
"What do you think?"
After long seconds gazing into chestnut brown eyes, Tifa gave in to her urges and tore Aerith's dress open. The rack she found on Aerith's chest looked much... bigger, than she expected. Far from the modest pair she remembered, they came to rest with thick dark peaks. Light wrinkles led into cleavage, while down further, a little tattoo of a sweet honey bee fluttered its wings just above the flower of Aerith's loins.
"I've seen that symbol before."
"I'm sure you have," 'Aerith' said. "It must have been a lot of fun, slutting yourself out with my daughter when business was good. Nowadays, I'm lucky if I can make anything on these bums who think one gil a pop is too much to ask."
"With your... dau..." Tifa gasped. "Elmyra?!"
A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped. Scrambling to her feet backward, she stared at the trio. Elmyra, Sepherith, and Aerith's ghost. Elmyra stroked her belly. Sepherith stroked her cod piece. And the ghost, in all its nasty fetid allure, rubbed her dirty pussy for all she could. All three moved toward her as Tifa held her pounding muddled head and desperately backed into a corner.
"What the hell is this?"
"Surely it can't be that hard to figure out," Sepherith said. "Who better to honor Aerith's love of fucking strange men for pocket change than her own mother? While Elmyra's busy ruining her daughter's chaste reputation, the ghost will see to it everyone thinks of Aerith and her Cetra kind as a foul blight on the land."
"What about you, huh? What's your purpose?"
Plucking a withered flower from Elmyra's basket, Sepherith took slow torturous steps toward her prey. "What other purpose could I have? As a remnant, it's my duty to gain disciples, spread his seed and give birth to the one true god. You may not be worthy of my cock, Tifa Lockhart, but I've prepared you for a duty better suited to your talents."
As the scent of those decayed loosestrifes clouded her mind, Tifa lost the last remains of her old self to a haze of lust.
------
"Wooooooo! Tits up!"
Soaked with sweat, Tifa's brand new tiny top finally revealed the wonders of her tits' sexy shape. So tight. So clear. So crisp. Cloth ensconsced each perky breast, the massive perky pair all but ready to burst out as they tested the limits of their flimsy white cocoons. The garment's newfound translucence allowed her horny fluster of splotchy pink and their forced tips to bear themselves out into plain view.
She reeked of sex. It wafted off her like the aura of a prideful slum slut. It suited her state: heart racing, cunt aching, belly burning with lust. Her constant nympho high left her skin steaming on cold nights like this one. The thick heady musk fuming from her hairy pits only made it worse, deep breaths urging her to place her hands behind her head and splay her elbows out for more. She was wild. Feral. And right now, she earned her beastly scent by riding her latest cock.
"What do ya think? Bet I'm better than that one gil skank at the Honeybee Inn," she said, with a perverse grin and a sparkle in her eyes.
"Damn right you are."
The swish, swish, whip whip of her damp and messy hair unveiled her new title sewn into her top's back: Titfuck Tifa. Titfuck Tifa, the woman who jacked men off to drink their jizz. Titfuck Tifa, the woman who wandered alleys looking for stray mutts to fill her holes. Titfuck Tifa, the insatiable fuckbeast of Seventh Heaven. With thirst parching the infamous ex-brawler's throat, she snatched up a mug of her house brew topped with the cum of every man and woman who didn't have 10 gil to spend on drinks.
"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"
She didn't need the chant, but she loved it. It made her skin prickle, almost as much as the fragrant spunk-laced beer she tossed her head back and guzzled down all at once. For other, more refined harlots, its acrid smell and frigid splash would have slowed the bump and grind thrill.
Not Tifa. Rough thrusts of her hips drove the guy's shaft deeper, worked her muscles harder, firming up parts of her body newly awakened by the throes of sex. It came at a cost: her fighter physique. With each training day lost to endless fuckfests, her once big biceps and thick calves slimmed down. She was weak. Light. Dainty, compared to her old self. She learned this well the day she pounded her fists against a man's chest during sex and earned an amused chuckle for her efforts.
At least she looked hot. At least her overall tone remained appealing, the rough and tumble definition of her warrior days traded for the kind of soft ample curves that really drew men in for a drink... and often more.
All the while, she chugged. Light booze flowed down her chin, adding a beautiful oily shine to her soaked bust. A little shake of the girls at the last drops brought raucous cheers, and as she slammed her empty mug down on the nearest table, she wiped her mouth and raised her arm in triumph.
"Woooo! That's right boys! Titfuck Tifa's going all. The. Way!"
This was it. The final stretch. She rubbed her hands along the guy's sides, tits flouncing as she picked up the pace. His moans brought such delight, such carnal satisfaction. Short, ragged breaths puffed from her smutty lips. Thighs quivering, arched back aching, she sunk herself on his prick. She wanted to feel hot, gooey spunk explode inside her. She wanted it so badly, to prove she could give as well as she got. No such luck. While her client thrust away for his own relief, Tifa Lockhart succumbed to the failings of a well-fucked body.
Her arms dropped as she slumped forward. Forcing herself through pity pumps of the man's rigid cock, she rode her orgasm with both palms pressed against his pecs. When the guy finally came with a grunt and firm grip on Tifa's waist, she let out a sex wail for show and hoped he wouldn't notice the fact that he - like most men before him - had conquered the Seventh Heaven fuckbeast.
As her body calmed and sweat cooled against her skin, Tifa heard a shout. "Hey, Titfuck! I'm dry over here."
"Just a minute!"
She rose off the man's dick with a soft squelch. Jizz dripping down her thighs, she savored each smack on the ass she got on her way to the bar - and with a crowd this rowdy, that numbered in the double digits. Her boobs smacked the counter and spread as she leaned in, teasing the new guy with a full-on view down her beer-drenched cleavage.
"Whatcha want?" Tifa asked, thumbing at the sign against the wall. "Beat Rush? Dolphin Blow? I can give you a Final Heaven like that guy over there, but I'm gonna need half an hour to recover."
"Nah, give me the house drink."
"Comin' right up!" She popped the cap, poured, and pouted when he snatched it up and drank it all in one long swig. She so hated when they missed the chance to watch little Tifa on the side of the mug lose her top to a frosty brew. Her disappointment was short-lived, though, when the man huffed and grabbed his almost certainly tight and bulging crotch.
"Gave you a stiff one, didn't it?" Tifa said with a brimming grin.
"Damn right. What's this stuff called?"
Pointing at the bottle, she turned it to reveal label art of a familiar brunette with thick black smog spewing from her open mouth. "Aerith's Breath. You wouldn't believe how it's made."
- 4
- 5
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Sepherith