Nathan leaned against the vending machine behind the convenience store, breath ragged, still shaking from the Yandere event. His hoodie was clinging to his skin, and a thin line of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
[Reward Claimed: Random Item Coupon (Used)]
A small pop echoed in front of him—and a tiny red capsule dropped into existence, bouncing once on the pavement before rolling to his feet.
[Item Acquired: Cherry-Flavored Lubricant – No Effect]
Nathan stared at it.
"Seriously?"
He scooped it up with a sigh and shoved it in his hoodie pocket. His cock was still half-hard from the chaos, and he wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline or the insanity of it all—but he was craving more. His body was amped. Alive. Like it had gotten drunk on lust and now demanded another hit.
His stomach growled.
"…Right. I haven't eaten since before I died."
So he wandered. For hours. Through the city that looked like Earth but wasn't. Same streets. Same skyline. But the people were off. He passed by women—so many women—each with glowing tags floating over their heads like private porn categories:
Nathan's cock twitched.
He had to keep his eyes forward. Keep moving. Or he'd end up dragged into another "event" before he could find somewhere to crash.
And then he saw her.
Late 20s. Maybe 30. Slouched against a lamppost outside an izakaya-style bar with her heels off, pantyhose ripped, and blazer hanging open. Her white blouse was partially unbuttoned—way too low for someone just getting off work. Her short skirt barely covered her thighs, and her lipstick was smeared like she'd forgotten how mouths worked.
She wasn't passed out.
She was drunk—and staring.
Right at his crotch.
Her eyes were glossy, dark, lined with smudged makeup, and they locked onto the tent in his jeans like a heat-seeking missile.
Nathan froze.
The system pinged instantly.
[TAG Detected]
[Drunk]
[Netorare]
[Corruption: High]
[Public Use]
[Masochist]
[Married]
[Analyzing Subject…]
[Name: Yumi]
[Smut Potential: 96%]
[Corruption Threshold: 81%]
[Most Likely Kink: Public Degradation + Facefuck]
Nathan blinked.
Married.
His cock throbbed.
Of course she was. Of course this broken little slut in a business suit with mascara running down her cheeks and her skirt barely covering her ass had a husband waiting at home. Probably tucked in bed. Probably thinking she was "working late."
And here she was, legs open on a street corner, moaning at the sight of a bulge in a stranger's jeans.
Yumi hiccupped, dragging her fingers between her thighs, whining as she felt the slick mess soaking through her panties. "Nnnngh~ i-it's sooo hot down there… feelin' all gooey an' sticky… like I pissed m'self in heat, haah…"
Nathan didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
The system was lighting up with notifications—background calculations and subtle green lights blinking beside her name. She was teetering on the edge of full corruption.
One good thrust would probably push her off the cliff.
Yumi stumbled forward, bumping into him. Her hands gripped his hoodie weakly, and she pressed her forehead against his chest, lips brushing the fabric like she wanted to kiss but couldn't remember how.
"Bet you got a nice cock… bet it's thick and mean and… mmm, fills a girl 'til she forgets she's even got a job…"
Nathan's hand moved on instinct—fingertips sliding down her spine, gripping her ass through the torn pantyhose.
She shivered.
The world around them blurred, the glow from the streetlamps casting the alley in a soft, golden haze.
"I'll be good," she whispered, tongue lolling slightly as she looked up at him, eyes half-lidded and slutty. "Lemme suck it… lemme prove I'm a good little street cocksleeve… p-please…~"
[System: Passive Event Progressing… Subject entering Heat State]
[Slut Potential: Max]
[Warning: Subject has lost awareness of surroundings – street exhibition possible]
[Bonus Objective Unlocked: Humiliate a Married Slut in Public (+Reward Chance)]
Nathan's cock throbbed so hard it hurt.
And somewhere deep in his hoodie pocket, that stupid cherry-flavored lube burned like a mocking reminder:
There was no going back now.
Nathan's fingers dug deeper into Yumi's plush ass, feeling the way she instinctively arched into the touch despite her sloppy, drunken defiance. Her breath was sticky-warm against his chest, body trembling like she was seconds away from melting—but still trying to pretend she had any self-control left.
"Wanna come with me?" Nathan asked, voice low and smooth. "Just down the alley. Just for a minute."
Yumi staggered backward like he'd slapped her with a wet sock.
"Wha—! A-Ah! N-no! No way! Wha' do you think I am?!" she blurted, eyes unfocused, her voice swinging between outrage and a pout. "I'm not some cheap-ass alley slut just waitin' for cock in the dark, okay?!"
She waved her hand clumsily in front of him, then nearly toppled sideways.
"Ugh… ffffuckin' Kenji…" she slurred, suddenly tearing up as her voice cracked. "S-stupid bastard... won't touch me anymore… won't even look at me unless I'm wearin' makeup an' cookin' dinner! But I—I love that idiot! I love him, even if he's got the sexual energy of a fuckin' rice cracker!"
She sniffled, wiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her half-open blazer, then suddenly exploded again, voice rising.
"And that ugly manager, ughhh! T-Told me I should suck him off for a raise today! Can you believe that?! Th-that crusty motherfucker with his bad breath an' baby hands!"
Nathan just watched, lips twitching in silent amusement as she ranted and swayed like a drunk anime character having a breakdown in public.
"I-I'm a married woman!" she insisted, voice shrill, one finger jabbing into his chest like it meant anything. "I-I pay for groceries! I go to yoga on Sundays! I am not—not some kinda random street whore just… just spreadin' for any guy with a—"
Nathan slowly, calmly undid the button on his jeans.
Yumi stopped mid-rant.
Her eyes locked on the thick bulge pushing through his boxers as he lowered his waistband just enough to give her a peek. The heavy shaft twitched—thick, pulsing, clearly far more than what her husband had to offer.
Her lips parted in a soft gasp. Her knees knocked together.
"…O-oh…" she mumbled, cheeks red, eyes fixed in a drunken daze. "T-that's… you—uh…"
Nathan raised an eyebrow. No words.
Yumi squinted at him like trying to remember how conversation worked, then crossed her arms under her tits in a wobbly pout and muttered:
"…F-Fine. Just f-for a minute, okay? Not b-because I'm curious or anything…"
She hiccupped, wobbling closer, trying to act all tsundere and failing miserably.
"I-it's just cold out here or whateva… 's not like I wanna follow some hot stranger with a porn star dick into a dark alley or somethin'…"
Nathan gently took her wrist.
"You sure?"
"…Shut uuuuup," she mumbled, lips curling in a pout. "D-don't tease me…"
And with that, she followed—heels dangling from one hand, skirt riding up her thighs, drunk and stubborn and already dripping—as Nathan guided her into the dark mouth of the alley.
Where one little peek would turn into a full-blown fall.