Chapter 2 - Degrada

I spent a long ass time rewriting this. I'd like to thank everyone that emailed me to encourage me to keep working on it, it was helpful. 


So for this chapter, I took a minute to consider what humiliation actually is. If it’s planned, desired, or pursued, it’s not humiliation. It’s got to be unexpected, and preferably unwanted. She’s got to be overwhelmed. She’s got to be uncomfortable (at the beginning anyway, before she succumbs to what feels good) for it to actually be humiliation, so that’s my philosophy (?) as to whether she’s allowed to get off or not. This chapter is also significantly longer than I expected, because I ended up taking some time to really flesh out what all these ideas are. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m here for the psychological journey. Everything else is a means to that end :D. 

A few people have asked about donations or whatever, so here's my Ether address: 0x202080B915dC28eCC8cD5fa328f412A82d337d54

Alternatively, consider donating to a local women's shelter or a breast cancer research fund (but not Susan g Komen, that shit is a scam)

Consent is cool, kids. It's not fun unless everyone is having fun.


AH! MOTHERFUCKER!


Riston shouted as he felt a searing pain in his left leg. He flung the covers off his bed and reached into his greasy sweatpants pocket, finding the small green orb glowing and vibrating. He reacted quickly and flung it into a nearby heap of dirty laundry. Pulling his sweatpants down, he saw a burn forming on his leg, already starting to drip with pus. “What the fuck?” he wondered aloud. He looked at his phone, 0223. Too early to get up, but too late to find anything to do. There was a 24 hour clinic down the road, maybe he’d go see if he could get patched up. 


“They could probably just cast Cure on me, I guess. Or do you use Esuna for burns? I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter,” he thought, still drunk. He put his coat on and staggered out into the recycled air.


---------


“What the hell happened to you?” the medic at the Shin-Ra clinic asked.


“I got burned doing… some electrical work,” Riston lied, not wanting to have to explain what actually happened.


“It’s a pretty good one, man. I think I’ll use some Cure and then Esuna, I guess…” the medic went on about whether it would make more sense to use potions and antidotes instead. Riston’s eyes glazed over as he tried (and failed) to follow the information he was being given. He was very bored by these ideas and really just wanted to get on with things. Also he wanted to find out why his materia burned his leg. A few minutes passed as he was patched up.


“You’re good to go, buddy,” the medic said. Shin-Ra covered health services for all Midgar residents, regardless of employment status. While otherwise heartless, Shin-Ra saw each resident as a potential employee, and therefore potentially exploitable for monetary gain, so the net result was that the basic needs of residents were met, even if the motivation for it was less than benevolent. “Go home and get some rest,” the medic continued, “it’s gonna be a little while before you’re not all lethargic anymore. Have you been using magic? It tends to drain people that aren’t used to it.” 


Riston looked at him, confused. He hadn’t ever used magic, besides that DEGRA stuff that he wasn't even sure worked. “No, man. I’m just hungover,” he muttered as he staggered out the door. After Riston turned his back, the medic tried to call after him, but he was already out of earshot. He might have had a chance to learn about how magic worked if he stuck around. 


---------


Riston took the way home that led past Tifa’s bar. He was a creepy guy, and his lifestyle involved doing creepy things. Tonight he decided to walk past her bar. “I need to make sure she’s okay,” he thought in his creepy, white-knight brain. He looked at his phone: 0400. Two hours past closing.


“Hey, the lights are still on,” Riston noticed. “That’s weird.” He stumbled up the steps and tried the door. It was locked, which made him feel a slight amount of relief. “I guess she just left the lights on,” he thought. Electricity wasn’t cheap in Midgar. Shin-Ra made a point of extracting every last gil out of the residents to hold them on the brink of poverty. People that are worried about finding food are less likely to worry about overthrowing their corporate masters. He peeked in the window. Chairs were away from tables, beer glasses were left out and overturned and it looked like someone had spilled a drink or two in front of the bar, but no one was around inside.


Part of his brain urged him to investigate, but equal parts cowardice and self loathing made Riston shrug it off. “Must have had a rough closing, I hope she’s getting some rest.” He bounded back down the stairs, stumbling slightly on the last one. “I’ll stop in for a late breakfast, then run security like I always do,” he thought. If by security he meant creepy gawking and awkward jealousy, then he was being honest. 


---------


Some people are into conventional beauty: a gothic church, a well-designed skyscraper, a fast and aerodynamic car. Others are fascinated by unconventional beauty: the wreckage of a crashed supercar pushed past its limits, a mako reactor destroyed by eco-terrorists, a smoking hulk of what the conventional mind appreciates. Before the bar of the 7th Heaven laid an unconventional beauty: Tifa Lockheart, covered in her own drool, vaginal fluid, and the semen of two complete strangers, a peaceful and content smile on her unconscious face. She was laid flat on her back, head tilted to the right, mascara running down her pale cheeks, cracked, supple lips slightly agape and covered in crusting ejaculate. Her dingy white tank top was lifted above her eye catching round breasts, nipples finally reverting to their calm soft state, a wad of bills tucked into her cleavage, and her still-damp panties pulled down between her knees. Her skirt and bust-framing suspenders were still in place as a sort of orderly counterpoint to the unconventional artwork. She was a beautiful wreck: the result of her own departure from conventional reason. A departure she had no part of, but was forced onto her. A departure she nonetheless enjoyed.


Her hand drifted to her sore head as she slowly awoke. “Hnnnngg… my head…” she muttered. Her hand found a cold and crusty drying glob of cum in her hair, causing memories of the night to come rushing back. Tifa sat up abruptly, her breasts bouncing as she scooted on her bare ass to the edge of the bar.


“What… what the fuck did I do?!” she said incredulously, to no one. She was simultaneously disgusted at her situation and intrigued by the memory of her actions, but shame overtook her. “I… I can’t…” She shook her head violently, as if to shake off the memory as she stood, tripped over the panties between her knees, and fell back to the ground. Her exposed abused pussy still covered with a stranger’s drying ejaculate, she quickly crawled to the pinball machine elevator with panic in her heart. She found the button and descended.


---------


The shower was as hot as she could make it, and the small stall filled with steam. Mako energy created a lot of excess heat. The power production process was designed to harness as much as possible, but overages weren’t uncommon. Heat was sporadic in the slums, but when it was available, it was plentiful. Tifa took advantage of it as she tried to scrub away the memory of her actions.


“What was I thinking?” She wondered. “That’s not the kind of person I am!” She thought back to her previous love-making encounters. First there had been Cloud, back in Nibelheim. She gave her virginity to him before he left for SOLDIER all those years ago. They were only 16, and she had never heard from him again. After that, she’d found out about Shin-Ra’s abuse of the people of Midgar and the planet itself and became interested in opposing them. She moved to Midgar at 17 to take part in the AVALANCHE project, a social group dedicated to bringing together the people of the slums against Shin-Ra’s abuses. She fell in love with Barrett Wallace, the leader of the Sector 7 chapter of AVALANCHE. She'd only gotten as far as giving him a handjob before he became adamant about taking direct action against Shin-Ra, through the bombing of reactors. He’d been killed in the first bombing run they planned, when the timing device malfunctioned. Tifa hadn’t let herself become close to anyone since. Now 22 years old, she had attempted a few one-night stands, but guilt and introspection always kept her from getting close to anyone she was interested in, even for a night.


She scrubbed harder, rubbing soap into her slim, fit 5’6” frame. The sparse and unhealthy slum diet, along with being overworked at her bar, had caused some muscle and fitness loss from her fighting days. She had little time or motivation to train, and her firm abdominal muscles had given way to a soft and slim tummy, making her hip bones and pubic mound quite pronounced. She was genetically gifted, however. Her lifestyle in poverty had no effect on her gravity resisting 36E bust, or her round bubble booty, which contained a seemingly perfect ratio of muscle and fat: enough muscle for structure, enough fat for a very sexy gelatinous jiggle when slapped. Her pronounced collarbones and rib cage became slightly more visible as she arched her back to allow water to run through her hair, rinsing out the semen from her activities the night before. Memories flashed into her mind: the old railman holding her arms behind her, pounding her cunt, her perfect breasts bouncing erratically under her tank top as a short bald man looked on and masturbated. She felt heat in her belly and wetness in her crotch at the thought, then a flush of embarrassment. She did her best to ignore the feeling.


She finished washing, wrapped herself in a towel, and struggled to look herself in the face in the mirror. More memories rushed into her mind as she eventually looked at her chapped lips, stretched from deepthroating a stranger’s cock. Memories of the taste of his cum and the way he forced her to gag on his bulging dick made her avoid her own gaze again.


“What if they tell people?” she worried. “I’ll never live it down. I have a reputation here. Sure, people look at me,” she thought, “but they all know it’s off limits, right? How will I go on as I have if people think… I’m on the menu?”


Dropping her towel, she dressed quickly. As she went through her wardrobe, she found an old black sports bra she'd worn while training with the AVALANCHE crew. "Maybe I should try a more reserved appearance," she considered, "if fewer people are thinking about it, maybe I'll be less likely to think about it." She slid the bra over her head and exhaled, trying to reduce her chest dimensions as much as possible. "Ugh they must have gotten bigger since I stopped working out," she sighed before managing to pack her breasts into the stretchy black garment. It was indeed a size too small and was effective at constraining the size of her chest, but was also uncomfortable and made it harder for her to breathe. "That'll work, I guess. Barrett was always telling me that he hated the way all the drunks looked at me, maybe he was onto something." She finished dressing and headed to bed for a much needed rest.


---------


Riston awoke late in the afternoon, his leg slightly sore from the burn, but mostly healed. He didn’t shower, or brush his teeth, as usual, and headed out towards 7th Heaven for what was supposed to be a late breakfast, but was actually a late lunch.


He arrived and found the lights off and the door locked. A sign had been posted:


CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS


it read. 


“Weird,” he thought, “I wonder what Tifa’s got planned.” He pulled out his cellphone and texted Lug. 


Hey man. That materia burned the hell out of my leg, any idea why?


It burnd you? That’s weird. I’ve heard of materia glowing when it’s developing, yknow, “leveling up”? There’s probably a better way of saying it, but basically when materia glows or vibrates, that means it’s gaining experience.


So that means it worked?


Maybe. Most materia gains whats called ap when it’s used, yknow. Like you use a fire spell and your materia gets more… momentum? And then eventually you can use fira, and then firaga. So when it was glowing, or glowing so hot it burned your leg, it was gaining ap. Apparently a lot of it. Let me check out the folder.


Thanks man.


Riston went home. He ate greasy food and snacks. He drank cheap beer.  He played video games. He watched porn and masturbated, then left again to creep around 7th Heaven. Still dark. Still locked. He rubbed the now cooled green orb in his pocket. “Degra,” he said. Riston went home again.


Bzz Bzzz Bzz Bzzz


So check it out. Most materia gains ap when it’s used, like i said. DEGRA gains ap when the target commits a debased act as a result of the materia. So basically, if you cast it on a girl, and then she acts like a complete slut afterwards, it gains ap.


I cast it on Tifa. Does that mean that it made her act like a slut?


Not just a slut, a slut for humiliation. The worse the better. That’s what it looks like, yeah. 


Holy shit, man. What do I do now?


You go take advantage of the situation, my man.


I don’t think I can do that. You gotta help me.


You’re such a bitch, but I was gonna come check it out anyways.


Her bar is closed now, she’s got a sign up that says something about renovations.


We’ll stop by when it’s done.


Alright, dude, I’ll let you know. Thanks. And also, WTF, right?


No problem, man.


---------


Lug and Riston met up and hung out a few times, but the nerd and his wingman never had a chance to make a move. Tifa kept the bar closed for a week. She assumed the slum residents all would have heard about her night, and couldn’t bear to face them. She wanted to lay low and let everything blow over. A week should be enough, right?


The first night the bar was open, a Friday, the same group of rail workers came in an hour before closing, again celebrating a week’s hard work completed. Tifa’s heart jumped into her throat and she flushed red as she realized what was happening. She tried to avoid the subject and act natural, smiling and joking with the railmen, serving them their beers as she always had, laughing at their jokes, parrying their come-ons. She noticed the faces from the last week weren’t there, and she couldn’t help but ask about them. Her curiosity was driven part by a desire to be ‘off the hook’ and part by a desire to be abused and humiliated again. 


“Hey, who were those guys that were here last week?” Tifa struggled to explain their appearance in a way that did not involve describing their penises. “I… hadn’t seen them before, do you know the ones?” she asked.


“Oh, those guys. Old dude, long hair and a fat bald guy? Yeah, they’re from a different sector. Their train broke down, so they had to stay in town until it got repaired. I think they left the next morning. What, did they forget to pay their tab?” one of the regulars answered.


“Oh! No… they paid,” she said, remembering the wad of cash she found between her tits, “tipped pretty good too, I guess. I just like to get to know my customers, you know?” Tifa answered with a smile. Her heart fluttered and her pulse quickened as her body remembered how it felt that night. She flushed red again and excused herself to the bathroom.


She leaned over the sink, looking at her face in the mirror. Her black sports bra created incredible cleavage at this angle, and her eyes lingered there as she had trouble meeting her own gaze. She felt desperate, and looked the part, now that she had dropped her facade in the safety of the bathroom. She had meant to spend the week working out, keeping her mind off of things, cleaning the bar and generally getting over the events that had happened that night. Instead, all those activities made the memories more vivid: every time she started one of those tasks, she couldn’t help but become aroused, light-headed, her knees weak, nipples hard, fluid dripping down her creamy thighs. She kept having intrusive thoughts, “this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing,” “maybe they’ll come back,” “I didn’t even learn their names,” and she’d end up masturbating, at first just gently massaging her pink clitoris, but later in the week, getting carried away and jamming her fingers, and then objects, into her sopping gash, choking herself and squeezing and slapping her tits, trying to get off. She couldn’t get the feeling right, and was never able to have an orgasm. She was reluctantly coming to the realization needed to be abused to cum. It felt so wrong, but at the same time, so good.


She splashed cold water on her face a few times, trying to refresh herself. “I’ll get through the night,” she reassured herself. “One day at a time. I don’t need this. I still have my training and my discipline. I can ignore these urges.” A part of her mind was optimistic, but another part of her mind hoped she’d fail. She adjusted her top and suspenders for comfort, not quite admitting to herself how much lower her bra was compared to when she came in.


---------


She got back to her post at the bar. The rest of the place was fairly empty. It was close to closing time, but 2 or 3 of the drunker patrons were still seated at the bar, all with empty glasses. She smiled a friendly (and convincing!) sassy smirk at them, “Okay, fellas who needs a refi…”


“Where the fuck have you been, bitch? My glass has been empty for 15 minutes! What kind of fucking bar are you running here?!” the largest of the men at the bar yelled. Usually, Tifa had enough assertion and sass to fire a disarming comeback, and if not, some of the more defensive patrons would stick up for her. None of those patrons were in attendance, and instead of assertion, all Tifa felt was her smile melt away and her asshole clench. She felt submissive. She also felt strangely comfortable in her submission, but her mind was too preoccupied to deal with that right now.


“Uh… I’m… I’m…” she stammered.


“Beer. In my glass. Now. You dumb bitch,” the man commanded. Tifa tripped over herself to grab his mug, bending at the waist to give the man a look down her top. She was so flustered that she forgot to tilt his glass as she filled it and gave him a beer that was 90% foam.


“Are you fucking kidding me? This is nothing but head! Do you think I fucking like head, bitch?” he bellowed. “You come out here with your fat tits all cranked up,” he gestured at her top, “and you think that’s an acceptable substitute for good service? I don’t give a shit about that, and I don’t give a shit about you. Try again, dumbass, and don’t fuck up this time.”


Tifa, nearly in shock, grabbed his mug and poured it down the well, splashing some on herself in the process. She took a deep breath and concentrated, managing to tilt his mug correctly to get the right ratio of beer to foam.


“Here you are, sir. I’m very sorry,” Tifa apologized.


“That’s fucking better, you dumb slut. You’re lucky I just got paid, otherwise you wouldn’t get a tip,” he yelled, throwing Tifa a wad of cash. She missed it, and had to bend (at the waist, knees locked, with perfect back-arching, booty-popping form) to pick it all up, giving the remaining patrons a teasing view of her body in profile: breasts pressed against her tank top, round ass pushing up the bottom of her skirt. “Finally," she couldn't help but think. By the time she collected the bills though, the man had finished his beer and was putting his coat on. “I gotta get outta here, I’ve got overtime in the morning. Good night, you dumb bitch,” he muttered, walking out the door. Tifa felt her face and chest redden at the insult, but also felt her heart sink. She glanced, almost pleadingly, at the other two men, who avoided eye contact while finishing their drinks then paid and left without a word.


She followed them out, and closed the door behind them. After it was closed, she slumped down against the door, squeezing her left breast through her top, making her way to an uncomfortably constrained hardening nipple. It served as a potent metaphor for her situation: intense sexuality boiling just below a surface that was barely strong enough to hold it all back. She whimpered softly as she tried to tweak it, renewing her embarrassment and amplifying her self-loathing.


“Why am I doing this? Why am I so wet?” she wondered aloud.  “Why did that asshole turn me on so much?” Her right hand drifted to her skirt, then into her plain white panties. “Why… why didn’t he want to stay and fuck me?” her mind finally conceded as she reached her clitoris. “Am I not pretty enough for him? I needed to let him know I could help him with his anger. He’s just stressed out from work, that’s all,” her mind reeled as she flicked her dripping pink slit. “He’s so strong, he needs me to help him relax,” she thought, “but I wasn’t good enough for him. I need to be better.” She jammed her middle finger into her cunt and her hips bucked off the floor. 


HNNNNGGG


---------


Riston woke with a start. 0230, and the damn materia was burning him again. Not as hot this time, but it still hurt like hell. It was glowing, not as bright as before, but enough to burn. Buzzing, too. “Lug said it glows and buzzes whenever the target is being a slut,” he thought, jumping out of bed. He nearly fell as he hurried down the stairs from his shitty apartment. 


---------


Riston crept up to the porch, not quite as boldly as the last time he crept on Tifa’s bar. The lights were on inside, the first time he’d seen them on in a week. He peeked in the front window, hoping to get a view of Tifa wiping down tables or maybe mopping. Instead, he was greeted by a view of Tifa’s bare heart-shaped ass, panties bunched around one still-booted ankle. She was facing away from the door, on her hands and knees, furiously jamming her two middle fingers into her soaked hole.


UUUUUHHHNNNN


Riston heard her moan through the door, and his cock was instantly hard. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the materia. “Degra,” he whispered, staring intently at his target. He reached into his sweatpants as he watched Tifa desperately trying to get off with her fingers. He heard her frustrated whimpers as she realized again that it wasn’t going to work. Riston didn’t know why she was whimpering, but he did know it was sexy as hell. He started to jerk off watching her, when his phone buzzed.


Hey man, I heard Tifa reopened the bar. Did you stop in and make a move?


Uh yeah I’m actually there right now.


She closes at two, what do you mean?


I’m outside her door.


Riston snapped a photo of Tifa’s plump ass and sopping cunt and sent it to Lug.


Holy shit you creepy fuck! Get on that!


What? Just like, go in? The door’s probably locked anyway. I can’t do it.


Yeah you can, dude. She needs a dick, go give it to her. Treat her how she wants to be treated.

I can’t do this alone. Come down, you’re better at this stuff than me. I need a wingman!


What? I can’t. Unlike you, I still have a job. I’m at work. And besides, seriously? Go. Get. That.


Riston took a deep breath and tried the door slowly. It wasn’t locked. He could get in if he wanted to. All he had to do is go for it.


---------


“Why? Why won’t it work?!” Tifa whined as she furiously rubbed her clit. She was at her peak, her hips bucking, legs quivering with exhaustion, but she just couldn’t get over… She heard the door close. She’d forgotten to lock it! She froze in place and slowly looked over her shoulder, and was surprised to see Riston of all people, standing there, waving with a sheepish grin on his face and… with his cock out? “With his wonderful… long… thick… throbbing cock,” she thought as she turned toward him. Riston had no idea what to do.


“Uh, hey… hey Tifa, how’s it goin?” Riston asked, like an idiot. Riston, with his acne, sparse neckbeard, fat gut, greasy shirt, stained sweatpants and dirty gym shoes, chubby dick in his hand, looking at perhaps the most perfect body he’d ever see, in the throes of its frustrated ecstacy, and all he could manage to say was an idiotic 'how's it goin’. It didn't matter. Tifa didn’t even hear him.


Her mouth was watering at the sight of his dick, and she knew it was what she needed. She crawled on her hands and knees toward him, teasing him with her delicious cleavage, pouting slightly. “Riston… can you help me, please? I’m having so much trouble and I need help…” Tifa cooed softly as she got closer. Riston’s mouth flapped as he tried to answer, words failing him. He hadn’t expected to get this far (ever in his life, actually), and now that he was here, he had no idea what to do. He managed to stammer out a weak “Degra,” just as she reached him. She kneeled in front of him, gripped his cock with one small warm hand and licked its stinking, bulging, veiny length. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, batting her eyelashes. “Mmm it smells so… manly…” she said, before popping the head into her mouth. 


The contact with the tongue of a human female was enough for Riston to reward her with a spurt of precum, and he let his head fall back as he enjoyed her mouth. She sucked on the head deeply, her cheeks going concave, as she pulled the chunky smegma out from around his foreskin. It tasted bitter and salty, but she gulped it down with a resigned pleasure that she was doing what she was made for, she was performing her design function. She began to bob her head on his length, her breasts bouncing gently.


“Oh, Tifa… holy shit…” Riston moaned. “I didn’t know.. Oh thank you so much…” Tifa let out a frustrated sigh as she bobbed faster. “He’s not supposed to say thank you! He’s supposed to fucking use me!” she thought, suddenly feeling like she might lose her high entirely. He put his hand in her hair, which momentarily stoked the fire in her abdomen, but rather than pull it, he just stroked it gently and the feeling went away again. Tifa was now determined to get this over with. She took him as deep as she could, gagging softly on his dick as it popped past her tonsils. She was determined to make herself feel degraded, whether Riston knew how to or not. She massaged his smelly balls with one hand and pulled on his hairy naked ass with the other, trying to encourage him to fuck her face, but he wasn’t getting the picture.


GLK GLK GLK


"Maybe I just need to act more slutty," the brunette considered, as she took his 7 inch length out of her mouth and began jerking him off. 


Tifa looked up at him and batted her eyes. "I see the way you stare at me. I know how long you've wanted me to do this. To be honest, I've wanted this for a long time, too. Sometimes I stay up at night, and think about what it would feel like if you bent me over my bar and fucked me. Do you want to know why I closed the bar last week, Risty?" She asked before licking the underside of his cock from base to tip.


"Uh your sign said you were remodeling, but everything looks.."


"The same, yeah," Tifa finished for him. "That's not why I closed it. I closed it because last week, I let two strangers fuck me senseless, right here, and I didn't want anyone to know."


Riston understood now why his materia burned his leg. "What… uh, really?" He stammered.


"Ha… yup. Two old rail workers. First they finger fucked my hot slit until I came all over their hands. I came so hard, Riston. I Iet them fuck my face, fuck my pussy, shoot their hot sticky loads all over my tits, I let them cum inside my tight pussy, anything they wanted to do. God it was so hot. I let them fuck me until I screamed," Tifa slowly explained, lightly smirking. "They taught me how to suck dick, how to deepthroat without gagging, y'know, like this..."


HLLKKKK


Tifa jammed her face down into Riston's greasy smelly crotch, looked up at him with big teary eyes, then slowly came off his fat cock. "Did they do a good job? Did they teach me how to be a good cock sucker, Riston? I'm trying so hard, but I think I need more practice, you know?"


Riston just gaped at her. He had never considered any of this to be possible, and all the calculations his brain could do were coming up without any useful results. So he gaped.


"Oh, please, Riston, I really want to do a good job. You don't mind if I practice on you, do you?" She throated him again, and Riston's eyes rolled in his head as he felt his cock pop past her tonsils. With sustained teary eye contact, she took his hands and placed them on the back of her head. Riston didn't get it, and massaged her scalp instead. Tifa rose again and his cock came out of her mouth with an audible pop. "I want you to fuck my throat, Riston. I want you to fuck my throat and then my pussy and then my ass like I'm your whore, and then I want you to cum, and I want your thick hot load all over my face and tits," she whined while jerking him off. "And then I want you to fuck me again and again. I need it so bad. Please, I need to get fucked so bad." 


“Oh, Tifa, I'm… I'm gonna…” Riston flapped his fat face and clenched his hands into fists, drawing Tifa's face into his malodorous scrotum. His knees failed him as he came, and he fell onto his ass against the door. Tifa's heart sank as the first rope shot onto her back, but managed to direct the second shot into her cleavage before it was wasted. He grunted like a pig that had been kicked as she kept pumping his twitching cock, milking as much cum onto her face, neck and chest as she could. Finally his flow stopped. Tifa was fairly covered in his semen. It sat in fat puddles in the tight cleavage of her perfect breasts. It painted her lips and cheeks, and it pooled in her collarbones. She licked a dripping glob off her bottom lip. "So soon, Riston?" she teased. 


"I can get him hard again," Tifa mused confidently. She still needed to get off. The burning tension in her poor dripping cunt hadn't faded at all. She was desperate. The frustration she felt all week from trying and failing to get off alone was hanging over her head. 


Tifa licked the last drops of cum from Riston's softening dick, then started to crawl her way up his relaxed form. She straddled his fat gut, her soaked bare pussy adding new stains to his already disgusting shirt. She inhaled his putrid scent deeply, then kissed his sweaty hairy neck, lacing her fingers into his greasy hair to get more pressure. She licked a trail up to his hanging-open mouth, stinking unwashed breath burning her nostrils. Tifa pushed her tongue into his mouth and kissed him. He tasted like stale beer and old chicken wings. She retched softly at the taste, but kept at her goal.


Riston just laid there. Tifa kissed him for another few seconds before she realized what had happened. She backed away from his face to see his eyes were closed and his body was completely limp. She saw the chunk of hair on the doorknob and the trail of blood down the door to his body. The fall (combined with what was probably the best orgasm of his shitty life) had knocked Riston unconscious. “This is going nowhere," Tifa concluded with a sigh. Her frustration finally overcoming her horniness, she gave up and went to bed.


---------


Bzz Bzzz Bzz Bzzz


0330 - Hey man, send me more pics! I wanna see them titties!


Bzz Bzzz Bzz Bzzz


0332 - Damn, you must really be going to town on that ass


Bzz Bzzz Bzz Bzzz


0345 - Dude, you alright? What's going on, don't leave me hanging! 


---------


Lug arrived at Tifa's bar to find a wreck of a man holding the front door shut. Blood had pooled around his head and was leaking under the door jamb onto the front porch. "Damn, she kicked his ass! I can't believe it!" Lug was worried for his friend's health and searched for a way into the bar. Riston was far too heavy to move with the door, but luckily the windows didn't even have locks installed on them, and with a little work, he was able to get himself inside.


---------


Riston awoke much later. He found himself on a couch in a dimly lit apartment, and had a killer headache.


"Hey bud. I think she gave you a concussion," Lug said. "It looked like she was gonna be into it, what'd you say that pissed her off so bad?"


"What? She wasn't pissed. I don't think she kicked my ass. I remember getting a blowjob, that definitely happened," Riston said, a smile beginning to appear on his face.


"No shit! Tifa Lockhart. Gave you. A blowjob. My man! You gotta take me with next time, we'll tag team that shit. Did you cast Degra on her again?"


"Yeah, I did it just before I sent you that picture, and then again just as she started blowing me. How do we find out if she's been enough of a slut to use the next level spell? What even is the next level spell?" Riston asked.


" All will be answered in time, my dude," Lug assured him. "You got the rock with you?"


"The materia? Yeah," Lug led Riston to a workstation he'd built on his kitchen table. In it, Riston saw an elaborate set up next to a computer, with lasers, some kind of bubbling chemicals and a loudly buzzing box. On top of the box was a semi-circular indentation just about the size of his materia.


"I put this stuff together from spare parts at work. I built it because I wanted to learn more about the way mako interacts with the things we put in it, but it'll also tell us how much AP materia has, too," Lug explained. "It takes a little while to analyze it, but if you pop the orb right in the detector there," he gestured to the semi-circular indentation, "we can get started finding out how far along we are."


Riston did as he was told and dropped the green orb onto the detector. Lug entered some commands on his keyboard, and a laser shot up through the bottom of the orb. Lug then put a similar piece on top. "It's basically checking it's memory, if that makes sense. Every time you use materia, it gains AP, which is kind of like a memory of that use. If it gets enough memories, it'll learn something new. In the meantime though, I did find some more documents to answer your other question. Check this out. It's from one of the researchers notes," Lug explained, pulling a few sheets of paper out of a folder.


---------


Magic materia, green. Gains AP when target commits debased act. 3 levels:
- Degra - Slow, building effect. Causes target to gradually lose self respect, while building curiosity in humiliation. 
- Degrada - Slightly more quickly acting. Amplifies effect of Degra, target pursues debasement & humiliation as main sexual outlet. Additionally, interest in other hobbies dwindles to nothing. Target has heightened ability to detect male arousal & foul temperament (understood to be due to an ability to smell or otherwise sense it -- research provided insufficient data) and is drawn to it. Once near a sufficiently aroused or foul-tempered male, target's arousal increases exponentially. Brain scans of unconscious test subjects in laboratory conditions showed near endless release of oxytocin and dopamine/endorphins (as well as small amounts of estrogen, progesterone and testosterone, which appear to act as multiplying catalysts) within one foot of known lecherous, foul-tempered “bait” subjects. Hormone levels measured via brain stem probe appear to roughly follow the formula:
         (DE x O)^EPT = F x A
        where:
DE is the combined dopamine/endorphin output, 
O is the oxytocin output, 
EPT is the change in estrogen, progesterone and testosterone from baseline, 
F is a foul-temper factor (measured via questionnaire on a scale starting at one, with no upper limit) and 
A is an arousal (or attraction) factor (measured on a similar scale), which assesses how attracted to the test subject the bait subject is. 


Significant experimental data exists to suggest that as a bait subjects A increases, DE increases (and DE reuptake goes down), while as the bait subjects F increases, O increases (and O reuptake goes down.) In practice, as a bait subject becomes more aroused, the test subject “mirrors” that arousal by increasing dopamine/endorphin output (thereby increasing blood flow to erogenous zones).
Similarly, as a bait subject becomes more foul tempered, the test subject feels more understanding toward the bait subject. In other words, the test subject will empathize and begin to agree with the bait subject's degrading evaluation of them.  


EPT appears to scale linearly with changes in either F or A, though no measurement found more than a 25% rise over baseline.

- Degradati - Amplifies effects of Degra and Degrada. Constant state of arousal, performing intercourse and masturbation until exhaustion, sometimes unconsciousness. Target's life is primarily lived in pursuit of orgasm, forgoing basic hygiene and eating habits. It is assumed DEGRA-v.01 operated at this strength initially. Effects appear to be permanent; no known reversal materia exist.


---------


Riston did his best to read and comprehend the document, but his eyes quickly glazed over as he became bored. "So this is a lot of words. I'm not gonna read all this. Did you read it? What am I supposed to be getting from this?" 


"Okay fine. Basically what it's saying is that they did a bunch of research and came up with equations that explain what makes a chick under the effect of this stuff want to fuck a specific guy. They saw it came down to two things: whether the guy was attracted to them, and whether the guy was an asshole. The more of each, the more attracted she gets," Lug explained to his reading-comprehension challenged friend.


"So she's attracted to dudes that are assholes? Pretty much Chads, what the fuck. Chicks like her are attracted to them anyway," Riston complained.


"Well not quite. If the dude is an asshole, basically it makes her empathize with them. So like if he's an asshole and calls her a slut, she'll be like 'oh I guess I am kind of a slut, you make a good point.' If a dude tells her that all she's good for is sucking cock, she'll believe that too," Lug answered.


"So basically I can talk her into doing whatever I want her to do, and by trying to talk her into it, it'll make her want to do it?" Riston tried to summarize.


"Pretty much, dude. When you going to see her again?" 


"As soon as I can! Uh hey unrelated topic, but what do you get paid at Shin-Ra?"


"Like 380 gil/hr, why?"


"You don't happen to have 8000 gil stashed away somewhere, do you?" Riston asked, hopefully.


---------


Tifa awoke in a good mood. The sun was shining, something in the plates' structure was creaking that sounded a little bit like birds, and she was a strong independent woman that didn't define herself by her sexuality. Despite the fact that she couldn't get off with Riston, she had managed to take control of the situation. Last night wasn't satisfying, but it was empowering. She felt in charge again, probably because Riston hadn't cast Degra in a while. She wasn't actually in control, but she felt like she was. Big mood. Oof.


She opened the bar at 1000. Today was the first time in a while she'd managed to open on time. In the recent past, her bouts with self loathing or manic masturbation had delayed the bar's opening until after 1200. Not today. 


Today, a man waited outside her door for her to flip her sign from closed to open. A tall, lanky man, easily over six feet tall. He wore dusty light blue jeans with a white tank top, concealing the long, lean muscle of a lifetime swimmer. His head was similarly hairless, but he wore a goatee around his mouth. At his waist, he wore a belt with a revolver and bullets in it, and over his shoulders he wore a thigh length leather coat.


"Good morning! You're here early, sir!" Tifa cheerily greeted the stranger as she opened the door to let him in. "I've got just a few chores to finish and then I can get something going for you. Have a seat and I'll be with you in a few minutes!" Tifa hurried off behind the bar to gather dishes as the man made his decision between table and bar.


Tifa approached the man at his table with a confident smile. "Are you here for breakfast, or are you trying to keep a good night going?" she teased.


"I've already had breakfast, and I guess last night was pretty good, so I'd say the second. What Wutai Pale Ales do you have?" the tall man asked.


"I'm sorry?" Tifa replied, confused.


"WPAs, y'know, hoppy ales. No idea? Okay that's fine," the man paused to take off his coat, exposing well defined arms without a hint of fat. "What about a Mideel Sling? Can you make me a Mideel Sling?" the man continued, beginning to become irritated.


"I don't know what that is, I'm s--"


"Fine, just give me one of your upper plate Midgar mako-infused micro brews," the man spat, at the end of his patience.


Tifa's mouth gaped and her eyes searched for anywhere to land besides the increasingly impossible man in front of her. Worse, her confusion made it impossible to form words.


"What kind of a bar is this? God, what have I gotten myself into?" The man looked around, making sure he was the only customer in the bar. He stood abruptly, his comparatively large size knocking Tifa off her balance. "Y'know what, come here," he said, his left hand grabbed her ponytail at her hair tie and made a loop around his fist, while his right grabbed a handful of ass flesh.


"Ah! What... who are you??" Tifa demanded in shock. The man escorted her to the door, her booted feet awkwardly half-walking, half-dragging on the floor. He released her ass, then closed the door and bolted it shut, before throwing Tifa to her knees next to the doorknob.


The man grabbed her wrists in the same hand as her hair and pinned them above her head. With the other, he pinched her chin.


"You're a terrible bartender running a terrible bar. What's your name, girl?"


Tears began to run down her pale cheeks. "T... Tifa," she stammered.


He released her chin and unbuckled his pants. "Are you familiar with libertarianism, Tifa?" he asked, pulling out his cock, already hard at it's full 9 inches. "I'm not a libertarian myself," he continued, slapping her blushing face with his fat veiny cock, "I've always considered myself more of a moderate."


He pinched her nose and waited patiently for her to open her mouth. She gasped for air.


"HUHK," she retched and clenched her eyes shut as the third cock in her lifetime jammed its way into her slimy throathole, tears already streaking her makeup.


"I believe in small government and allowing the things that naturally drive men--" SLAP "look at me when I'm talking to you, bitch." Tifa's teary eyes opened and looked up at him, submissive and pleading. Adorable.


"God, if you don't respect those above you in life, you won't aspire to be like them. This is why you're stuck in the slums, you've given up. Just try harder, you'll get what you want out of life." He paused his thrusting, halfway in.


"Now, where was I? That's right. I'm not a libertarian, but understanding libertarianism will help you grasp what's happening to you right now."


---------


"Why in the fuck do you need 8000 gil, and what makes you think that I have that kind of money?!" Lug asked incredulously.


"After I got fired, money was tight. I uh… I took out a loan," Riston replied.


"You need collateral to get a loan. What did you give them, the Degra materia? Do banks even take stuff like that? I thought they wanted property."


"Yeah that's the thing though, the banks wouldn't talk to me, so I met a guy that knew a guy at the Wall Market. A real tall skinny muscular guy. Bald."


"Did he have a goatee?"


"Yeah."


"Vega? You took a loan from fucking Vega? What the hell were you thinking?"


"I didn't have a choice, I couldn't pay my rent!"


"What did you give him for collateral? That guy probably wanted more than materia."


"...I told him I owned Tifa's bar," Riston replied after a pause. "I missed a payment and he told me he'd give me a week to come up with the whole amount, principal plus interest, or else he's gonna 'come collect.' I don't have it, man. I don't know what he's gonna do!"


"You dumbass, how much do you have left?"


"I just need 8000 gil by Sunday. I have the rest, but he said I gotta come up with the interest by Sunday at midnight."


"Sunday? Dude, it's already Monday. You were out for like a day and a half."


---------


Glk-GLUK Glk-GLUK Glk-GLUK Glk-GLUK


Vega fucked her face at a leisurely pace, pushing past her gag reflex and keeping his fat cock head beyond her tonsils. "I entered into a contract with the owner of this bar, the man you work for. He needed a loan." Tifa listened as intently as she could while concentrating on her throat training. Vega's cock was bigger and wider than Riston's, so it required more concerted effort to not vomit all over herself. His insistent hold on her hair and wrists kept her from resisting in any meaningful way, though she was unnaturally comfortable in her position. 


"I don't know what he needed the money for, and it's not important. What is important is that we entered a contract, I gave him money, expecting that he pay me back with interest. Are you listening, Tifa? Do you care what's going on?" Vega paused his thrusting and Tifa looked up at him. 


Mmm hmmm


"This is actually a much better lesson on libertarianism than I thought it was going to be. The things that happen, they happen because they're supposed to happen. If they weren't supposed to happen, the free market would have prevented it, and I wouldn't be jamming my cock past your voice box. Do you understand me, Tifa? I'm raping your face because you deserve it. You allowed this to happen. If you were worth more than a cock holster, you wouldn't be a cock holster, see? Blink twice if you understand, cunt."


She blinked twice.


"Tifa, the free market is the most efficient, prescient, most informed measure of value that has ever been imagined. One defines his own value. Now, to review, what is your value, Tifa?" 


Vega pulled his cock all the way out of her mouth to allow her to answer. Tifa gasped in her first lungful of air since her ordeal started.


"...hggguhh... Cock holst--HUUGK" she stammered, cut short as Vega jammed his thick veiny member into her drooling mouth.


"Cock holster, that's right. I'm glad you're listening, Tifa. You're pretty sharp for a cock holster, you know? It's clearly not your brain holding you back, are you some kind of moral degenerate?"


Vega pulled his cock out of Tifa's throat and rested the tip on her tongue. More saliva dripped into her cleavage as she took the opportunity to catch her breath. "Mowal degenewate...? GULK"


Vega slammed his entire length back into her ruined face. "Yeah, moral degenerates generally have no moral fiber, no guiding principles. To be honest, I'd wager that you are a moral degenerate, since you're on your knees, with your hands pinned above your head, getting facefucked to try to pay off your boss's debts. I find that a lot of the women I deal with in my line of work have poor moral fiber. Women in general need guidance. Have you seen that in your experience, Tifa? If I was your boss, I'd have fired you long ago for acting like this. If you're willing to stoop to this level, how can I trust you not to steal from my business? People like you make shitty employees." He slapped her face again. "Keep your eyes up here, slut. Keep them open. You'll never change your station in life without a firm moral outlook. Maybe take up martial arts, or find a religion. Guiding principles can help a cock holster like you become a respectable person. All you have to do is choose to be better."


Glk-GLUK Glk-GLUK Glk-GLUK Glk-GLUK


"FUCK I'm close," Vega pinched Tifa's nose, and her eyes popped open again. "Tifa, I'm going to let go of your hands, so I can jerk off. I'm really enjoying this conversation we're having and I think there's a lot you can gain from it too. Do you think you can find the moral fiber to be a good cock holster and not try to outreach your grasp?"


KUH KUH "...mmm hmmm..." she weakly replied between coughs.


"Good cock holster. Now, push those tits up for me. Do you even want me to cum?" Tifa crossed her left arm under her breasts as instructed while her right shot directly to her soaking snatch. "You're supposed to work for it, but so far, I've been doing all the work. Maybe you wouldn't be any good as a professional after all. Naturally gifted, sure, but you don't have the moral fiber to do anything profitable with it.


"So anyway, back to the contract. The proprietor of this bar has defaulted on his payment -- I even gave him a good faith week to make amends -- but he decided the sum of the loan was worth more to him than the collateral, his bar. Therefore, I'm here today to collect that collateral. Initially when he offered the bar to me as collateral, I was intrigued and interested, but now that I'm here, it's clear to me that I've been led along, and he was negotiating in bad faith. Bad faith negotiation is a violation of the NAP. The non-aggression principle. Can you grasp that, Tifa? I know schooling in the slums isn't the best, but please try to keep up. Violating the NAP means he's ceded the sum of the loan as well as his collateral & related possessions to me."


Tifa's breathing grew more and more rapid and her moans grew louder and more insistent as her neglected cunt neared it's orgasm.


"Girl, shut up, are you even listening? Maybe you're beyond saving anyways. I let go of your hands and you go straight to masturbating. Where's your moral fiber, cock holster? Y'know what? I was considering keeping you on as an employee but you're unbelievable. All you're interested in is cumming, like some kind of animal. Fuck you, you don't deserve to know how to better yourself," Vega spat, grabbing hold of the back of Tifa's head. "Open your mouth, slut, I guess I'll do all the work again and cum down your gifted throat -- the throat you're squandering... "


HRRK GLK GLK GLK GLK GLK GLK GLK


Tifa's gifted throat has little time to gag as Vega hammered her mouth, while her small hands worked incessantly at her cursed cunt, trying to get off.


"Fuck that's good, have you been sucking dick long, Tifa? God that's a tight throat. See, with skills like… ughh... like this you could do well for yourself, y'know? The market is telling you to suck dick as a profession. I'm sure the demand is there. Do you think you could fill the needs of the market, Tifa? And fuuuuuck... your jaw, that's gotta be getting tired by now, right? Mine can't be the first dick you've sucked. Did you take classes? You clearly have your fellatio skills as a point of pride. If I weren't contractually entitled to take possession of the bar, I might consider this enough to call things square."


GLK GLK GLK GLK GLK GLK GLK


"FUCK take that load, bitch!" Vega shouted as he came down Tifa's abused esophagus. Tifa's eyes widened as she felt his already thick cock surge and swell as his thick load poured down her throat. The gag reflex she'd managed to keep suppressed was triggered, and her body began to do its best to expel the pulsing intruder. She squirmed. Her hands took a break from their work at her dripping, needy and so-close-to-orgasm cunt to push on his thighs. She tried her best to get away as her chest heaved and pumped, ejecting another mouthful of drool onto the sponge that her white top had become. After three shots down her throat, Vega released her head, allowing her to breathe while he directed the rest of his flow onto her face and chest. Tifa's mood was internally soaring, the fresh oxygen, combined with having managed to complete the task that was put to her. Delirious, she began to laugh as she collected the jizz dripping from her nose, then licked her fingers clean. "Finally," she thought, completely unconcerned with the fact that he just got done explaining how and why he was commandeering her bar, "this guy can help me cum~!" 


Vega stood back and admired his work. He still held her hair in one clasped fist, and watched his cum drip from her face to her flushed heaving tits as they both caught their breath. 


"Okay, Tifa," he said, slapping her cheek lightly and giving a light tug on her hair. She looked up at him with hopeful eyes, her feverish masturbation slowing down slightly. "I'm done with you. Get the fuck out of my bar," Vega growled as he dragged her to her feet again. He quickly opened the door, grabbed her by her belt and unceremoniously tossed her airborne out the door like a bag of trash.
