The summer heat was unbearable, and the fluorescent lights of Sinister Snax always made everything feel grosser. The tile was sticky, the AC barely worked, and the place reeked of burnt microwaved cheese and expired soda.
But worst of all? The employee.
"Fuckin' Raven," muttered Dylan, the local delivery guy, yanking open the glass door with a sigh. "God, I hope she's not working today."
"She always working," said Sarah, rolling her eyes behind her oversized shades. "Who else would give that much attitude over a pack of gum?"
"She told me to 'choke on my slushie' last week," Dylan added. "And that was before I asked if the restroom was working."
"She barked at me for asking where the protein bars were," Sarah said, stepping inside. "'Maybe try looking with your eyes instead of your tits,' she said."
They both burst into bitter laughter as they crossed into the store, the familiar ding of the entrance chime ringing out.
But the moment they stepped past the dusty shelves and turned the corner toward the counter—they froze.
Dead silence.
Sarah blinked. "...the fuck?"
Raven—Raven—was bent over the register. Literally bent. Her arms trembled, knuckles white as she gripped the counter. Her signature black lipstick was smeared, one of her fishnet sleeves had been torn, and her skirt was barely covering anything.
Behind her stood a man. Calm. Powerful. Hands gripping her waist like she was nothing more than meat. He didn't even acknowledge them. He just kept thrusting.
Raw. Vicious. Wet.
Raven tried to speak—tried to offer a corporate greeting—but all that came out was a gasped, "W-welcome to… S-Sinist—AHH!"
She choked on a moan as the man inside her—was he fucking her?! At work?!—slammed into her again.
Dylan blinked. "...Is that—Raven?"
"No fucking way," Sarah said, her jaw dropping. "That can't be—"
But it was.
Raven, the bitchy goth cashier who rolled her eyes at every coupon, who sighed dramatically every time someone asked for change, who acted like customers were beneath her. That Raven.
Getting railed. Right there. On the damn counter. And not even hiding it.
And the wildest part?
She wasn't resisting.
She was whimpering.
"Oh my God," Sarah whispered. "She's… crying."
They watched in stunned silence as Raven sniffled, cheeks soaked with tears, black eyeliner dripping down her face. And yet, despite all that…
"Th-thank you for shopping… at… at Sinister Snax…" she gasped again, voice cracking as she tried to slide a crumpled receipt across the counter.
Dylan took it like he was in a trance.
"Holy shit," he muttered. "She was always such a stuck-up bitch. Told me to die in a car crash once."
"She told me my kid looked like a rat," Sarah added. "And now she's moaning like a dog in heat."
They shared a look.
And then, slowly… they grinned.
Oh, this was better than revenge.
This was justice.
And just as they turned to leave, the man fucking her looked up—eyes calm, cold, unreadable.
He gave the smallest nod.
Like he knew.
Like he wanted them to see.
[System Alert: Public Humiliation Tag Potential Unlocked]
[New Tag Candidate: Raven — Exhibitionist Sub]
As the door closed behind the stunned customers, Raven let out a shuddering sob.
Her voice was barely a whisper, shattered by humiliation and climax-denied agony.
"M-mister… please… I want more…"
The ding of the door chime rang again.
Then again.
Then again.
"Yo, is this real?!" someone shouted near the entrance.
More customers flooded in—half a dozen teens from the skate park, a middle-aged couple with a camera-ready attitude, and some greasy guy in a hoodie already unzipping his phone pouch.
"Oh my fucking God, it's her," a girl snorted, raising her phone immediately. "That's the goth bitch who told me to 'shoplift and die.'"
"She bitched at me for touching the ice cream freezer too long," someone else muttered. "Look at her now. Shaking like a kicked puppy."
Phones rose.
Shutters clicked.
Flashes blinked.
Raven whimpered into the counter, her face twisted in horror. Tears streamed down her cheeks again, but the system didn't register them as sadness anymore.
Just arousal.
Shame-based arousal.
Her body was betraying her again—hips trembling, pussy soaked, thighs quivering in time with the humiliating clicks of iPhones recording every twitch.
"No," she gasped. "D-don't—stop recording—!"
Nathan didn't stop.
He didn't even flinch.
He leaned down, voice low, cutting like a scalpel.
"Smile," he ordered, gripping her jaw with a single hand and forcing her face toward the nearest lens. "And say 'cheese,' slut."
Raven sobbed. "P-please…"
[Debuff Triggered — Obedience Instinct Surge]
Her lips twitched against her will.
A weak, broken smile. Shaky. Terrified. Painted in ruined lipstick and shame.
"…ch-cheese…"
CLICK.
FLASH.
The crowd laughed.
"Holy fuck, did she just smile?"
"She's posing now? This bitch's ego used to be nuclear. I hope this shit goes viral."
Nathan watched with detached amusement as the system lit up with notifications.
[System Alert — Public Degradation Tag Progression: 74%]
[New Modifier: Viral Shame]
Effect: Emotional collapse accelerates when public attention increases.
Effect on Target: Raven — Compulsion Risk Now 93%
[Milestone Approaching: "Infamous Cumdump"]
The words floated across his vision like candy wrappers in a storm of filth.
Raven clenched her fists against the counter. "I-I'm not… not a fuckdoll… not for… f-for them…"
Nathan stroked her hair almost gently—almost.
"You're not," he said. "You're mine."
And then he yanked her hips back again, ramming into her in front of the growing crowd with a brutal thrust that stole every word from her throat.
The door chime rang again. Someone else walked in.
"Yo, what's going on—"
Then silence.
Then laughter.
The room buzzed with cruel glee, cameras raised, videos streaming live, Raven's disgrace immortalized in pixels.
And she felt it.
Her body bucked again.
Not in rejection.
In climax.
Tears and cum spilled together as she cried out with a voice that cracked like dry ice in a fire.
"F-FUCK—I'm—AAAHHH—!"
Phones zoomed.
Clicks exploded like a thousand mocking laughs.
And through it all, Nathan stayed silent.
Dominant.
Unshaken.
Unmerciful.
He looked into the camera of the closest customer and said two words:
"Tag this."