Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Yakuza LAD: The Homeless Whore of Hyakkei Alley	By : salarta Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > General Views: 1144 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yakuza or any related properties, characters, ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-The Homeless Whore of Hyakkei Alley
- 1
Authors Note: Hi! If you're seeing this, you decided to check out the weirdness that is this fic. I want to make an extra note up front that none of this is a reflection of actual attitudes I have toward these topics. It's just bizarre fetish content. That said, I did find Like a Dragon's choices for Nanba's skills strange enough for me to want to do a "female version" here. I considered turning this into a series at one point where Seong-Hui gets progressively "better" jobs, e.g. dressing up as a mascot for a brand, but let's be honest, I don't have the writing stamina for that. Anyway, enjoy the fic, or don't, I'm not the boss of you. And if you hate it, remember: don't blame me, blame yourself or Sega.

"You're shitting me!" Seong-Hui shouted. "You mean I'm not good enough to be a Clerk?"
On the other side of the desk, trembling in her yellow blouse and baby blue jacket, was Ririka. The diligent advisor for Hello Work had her fair share of troublemakers and ex-cons, but never someone this vulgar. It took all her patience to gather her wits and rephrase her thoughts into something more... palatable.
"I-It's not really a matter of if you're good enough, ma'am," Ririka said. "I have to match the jobs available with what you're qualified for, and I can't add you to the secretary pool when you have no experience or certifications. You understand, right?"
Seong-Hui scoffed and settled into her chair, folding her arms as she stared down the increasingly small woman. She had the experience. Like fuck she had it. She didn't become leader of Geomijul by sitting on her ass and doing nothing. But she couldn't list it. Where would she say she worked? What certificates or degrees could she show? None. Even forgeries were out of her hands, ever since her ouster for letting that bastard Yu Nanba escape after sharing everything about their counterfeiting scheme.
It was a stupid move. Biggest mistake of her life. She had no doubt she would be remembered as Geomijul's dumbest leader by a mile, and only by some small miracle of mercy did they let her walk out of Koreatown alive. On one condition: she had to stay in Ijincho, but out of their affairs. All three. Geomijul, Seiryu Clan, and Liumang. Their businesses and work were off-limits, ensuring she couldn't sell herself in one of the city's remaining soaplands either. She had no options except this. Whatever these screens and sheets of paper said she could do.
Which sounded like less and less by the second.
"What about Hostess, or Idol?" Seong-Hui asked.
"Uhhh..." Ririka tried to find the right words. "Those jobs require a certain skill set with a certain level of, umm... class."
"What the shit. Are you saying I don't have class?" She said this while reaching into her shirt and scratching her tit, followed by a nice leisurely stretch that pushed her cleavage into Ririka's line of sight. Though she certainly proved the point with that gesture, Ririka couldn't exactly say it.
"Oh, no no no. I just mean, you know, it's a different mindset. You seem, uh, too forward to be a Hostess and too mature to be an Idol."
To this, Seong-Hui hmphed. "Fair, fair. I am pretty badass after all. What else you got?"
Dealer. Nope, no skills with handling cards. Barmaid. Nope, couldn't mix drinks. Foreman, Fortuneteller, Chef, Enforcer, Musician, Ririka's eyes scanned past the completely irrelevant jobs that outright said No Women Allowed and therefore couldn't possibly apply no matter how smart, strong or talented she was. After so much skimming, Ririka nearly resigned her search to defeat when she found what looked to be a perfect hit. Her eyes lit up as she gave the good news.
"Oh! You could be a Night Queen."
"Pass."
"B-But the qualifications are-"
"I said pass! What the fuck kind of job placement service helps people get those kind of jobs anyway?"
In truth, she would have leapt at that chance if she could. Whip guys' backs and make them her bitches? Fuck yeah. Too bad it was one of the no-go zones in her post-Geomijul life.
Unbeknownst to Seong-Hui, that left her nowhere but the bottom. The dregs. Jobs anyone could do, and no one would do. Jobs that sat open so long, they would get purged in the next refresh cycle. Taking a deep breath, Ririka clicked forth and girded herself for the outrage to come.
"Okay. We have a job here. It's... wow. It's, um, a little bizarre."
"Look, missy, I can't spend all day here. Let's make this easy. Do I qualify?"
"Yes."
"Does it involve sex work?"
"U-Um, no, but-"
"Then I'll take it."
"Don't you want me to-"
"I'll take it. Or do I have to grab that stack of papers and beat you over the head until you get it!?"
Sheepishly, Ririka slunk her fingers over the keyboard to enter the prospective new employee's personal information into its until now completely untouched form. Hoping against hope that this woman wouldn't blame her for the lot she threw herself into without a thought.
******
Three weeks. That's how long she'd spent here. Waking to a swarm of flies buzzing in her face, she swatted them away and almost, almost, managed to forget about the last time she had a shower. Starting her day with a bitchy scowl and wrinkled forehead at their annoyance had become routine. As had their retreat into her cleavage and other dank nooks of her abode.
In her old life, she would have drowned these pests in a sea of flame along with her clothes. She couldn't afford it in her new one. Time meant money. Money she needed. Money she wouldn't get if she spent her time dealing with every fly and cockroach that skittered on and in her. Despite her hatred for them, she had to settle for their squirming, flitting nuisance as a constant companion in her neverending search for rock bottom.
They completed her. Seong-Hui, from loather to unwilling lover of the many-legged and winged blights. A perfect host with plenty of cracks to tuck themselves away.
No rain had done no favors, her familiar hot sweaty stench wafting over her more potent than the strongest cup of coffee. She was a train wreck of greasy hair, smeared lipstick and ripped clothes, a nipple poking out through a hole in her shirt and her slit seen from just the right angle through a tear in her skirt. Her jacket, her shoes, all jewelry except her earrings were gone, pawned off in the first week of her job without pay.
Which made it easier for her to rub away an itch in her wet hairy armpit as she yawned and emerged from the cardboard box she called her home. Fresh air greeted her, a welcome change from the stagnance of her own filth. Tarps, boxes and other assorted trash lined her path as she stumbled toward the restroom.
The men's restroom. The homeless camp's residents had long ago sealed off the women's with an overflow of garbage bags, having no use for the space since no women stayed among them. Until her. She was an outlier, a skanky exception to the rule, and as an outlier they saw no reason to alter their habits for her sake. She knew because she tried, herself, to clean it up only to find it full the next day.
Rather than climb over the bags every time she needed to take a piss, she settled for their facilities. It didn't help her image. A fact that became clearer when they spoke to her.
"Morning, Seong-kun," a nearby guy said. "How's business?"
She answered the man by flipping him off and kept walking. In she went, looking herself in a mirror cleaner than her. She had found and mounted it one day, never thinking it would have phrases like 'anal slut' and 'I <3 cocks' written around it like a vulgar halo. As its sole user, she suffered the sting of knowing they were meant for her.
Cowards, the lot of them. They could at least say it to her dirty face and get the kick to the balls they deserved. Insulting her behind her back was pathetic. Another pathetic thing? This sink. The smudges all over her would have to stay, judging by a test of its faucet that brought a gush of reddish-brown water.
Pipes needed replacing. An observation she included in her last report on conditions in the camp, but whether anyone read them was anyone's guess. She could imagine some pencil pusher at their desk, filing it away in an obscure corner of their comfy office, condemning her to another week's worth of this thankless job. She discovered quickly that her role in this scheme existed purely for show. If asked, the Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare could pull up her reports and say they had people working on it. Didn't matter to them that her last report included a close-up of her gaping asshole.
With a sigh, she removed a tube from its usual hiding place and touched up her lipstick. Its smearing, too, would stay. Her routine as leader of Geomijul would have lasted an hour. Here, as the camp's resident Homeless Whore - formerly Homeless Gal before her exploits quietly fixed her title - it took her a mere minute. What more could she do? Apply deodorant and shave with razors she wasn't allowed to have? Part of her job involved selling herself as someone who belonged, to not raise any questions. Couldn't look too glamorous and clean if she expected to fit in. Having finished her new, much reduced regimen, Seong-Hui clicked her heels out of the bathroom just in time to avoid overhearing a passing entrant. She made her way to one of the camp's exits, but not before receiving a typical taunt.
"Got a hot date with a dumpster?"
"Fuck off," she said. But as a matter of fact, she did. She had learned the secret skill of hunting for 'treasures' the moment she accepted her new job. After scouring the city for weeks, she had a few prime spots sure to give her better yields than a measly 10 yen.
Crossing the street, down the sidewalk, she rolled her eyes as men parted in her path and girls giggled and gossiped at the sight of her. Keenly aware of the miasma she carried, Seong-Hui sneered toward passersby as a warning not to mess with her. Honks, jeers, she silenced them through scathing looks. It didn't take her long at all to reach the alley where she did her business.
To find a gang of men waiting. Yakuza. Great.
"If it isn't the bitch from Geomijul," one of them said.
"It's just bitch now," she retorted. "I'm not with Geomijul anymore."
"We can see that. You look like the rest of the trash they throw out."
Temper rising, she balled her fist but did nothing. Absolutely nothing. Her crassness could make ordinary folk back down, but not these guys. And she had shit for combat skills. Always in the background, ordering peons to fight her battles, she focused so much on perfecting an attitude without having to back it up with action. That came to haunt her on the streets, but it took her one bad encounter to realize her new status as a Homeless Whore gave her other... skills.
"Hey boys," she seductively cooed, lifting her arms to expose the extensive undergrowth in her pits.
The kinky hairs had her natural color, a deep black made darker by her sweat. From their dankness issued forth clouds of her Skank Smog. Not a pretty sight. Neither was she. Her shame burned red hot the first time, but after employing the skill to ward off daily muggings, she stopped caring. She reeked. May as well own it.
It worked like a charm on one. The man collapsed, knocked out by a single whiff. She maintained her assault. Let it blast over them. Weeks of foulness concentrated into this fog, blindingly dense as it spread over Hyakkei Alley. She heard their coughs. Their steps. Rarely, she noticed a patch of air cleared by their flailing, soon stolen by her unrelenting push into every free pocket it could find. Normal men would have run in horror at the weapon she unleashed on them. Yakuza weren't normal. As it swirled around their heads briefly and dispersed, it left three very pissed off yakuza. To make matters worse, her pits' airing out exhausted their strength for at least a day.
Three men. One whore. Terrible odds if she hoped to get out of this unscathed.
But she could still gloat.
"It's a little strong, isn't it?" Seong-Hui said, fanning her face. The fumes drifted to her nose as she scrunched it, releasing a self-satisfied sigh. "Yep, no getting away from that. Real lay-you-out shit right there. I'd suggest you leave, unless you're a bunch of kinky fuckers itching for another taste. Just know I'll start charging you like I do with the creepy bald guy that busts a nut over it."
She smirked at their fierce glares. No matter the outcome, she could take a measure of pride in bruising their egos with the stain of getting dragged down to her level.
Their turn. At their mercy, she waited while Ishiguro rushed her. She expected a knife in the gut. It's how they always attacked. To her surprise, his pattern shifted, skimming her shirt. A loud ching sounded as its edge slid against her nipple ring. To think such a small thing, a rebellious little piercing to go with her punk slut vibe, would protect her.
More than protect. It teased better than a vibrator, turning her thick fat nipple hard to the knife's length dragging. She shivered in delight from her firm teat taking it in full. Absorbing its force to leave her with a horny tingle from tip to aureole. Raw and ragged, it ached and twitched through a nipgasm too intense to bear. Seong-Hui found herself moaning by the end, smugly cupping her D cup.
"That's the best you can do?" she jeered. "Dumbass."
He retreated. Next in line, Kawakami, sprinted toward her. She braced for a repeat. What she hadn't counted on was a taser to the same sweet spot. Electricity crackled against smooth curved metal and coursed to her scummy tit.
"AGH!" Seong-Hui cried. Her whole breast throbbed, tendrils of pain snaking across her chest. Without that, she would have enjoyed its tingle over her flesh, how it made her boob ripple wantonly behind the thin layer of her blouse's false modesty. Even as a whore, shock play was very much not her fetish.
Stumbling forward, spinning around, she shot him a deathly stare. "Hey! Asshole! Is that any way to treat a lady?"
"One problem with that," she heard. "You're not a lady."
Seong-Hui froze. In her haste to scold Kawakami, she lost sight of the last thug. Komori. She felt him against her, seconds before he grabbed her lank lilac mane. Kicking, thrashing, her scrawny arms failed to reach him as he pulled her across the alley. If only she had learned some fighting moves in her time as Geomijul's leader. Powerless, she soared through the air when he tossed her, landing gracelessly into a pair of nearby trash cans.
She groaned. Garbage in her hair. In her cleavage. Newspaper scraps and candy wrappers slipped into her crannies, while booze and soda drained on her from above, coating her strands with their sweet and sour smells.
And it was, horribly, an improvement. The closest thing to perfume on the streets. Far from a bath, but it smothered her pervasive scent. She felt it too. Her defense dropped sharply. Bare skin unaided by the toxic haze of her unwashed body. Raising herself up, she wiped the gunk from her forehead, stood, and seethed.
"Fine. If I'm not a lady, I'll stop acting like one. Get ready, because I'm holding nothing back."
She faced the three. Stepping toward them, she gauged the distance for optimal views and launched her next attack.
Dirty Dancing.
She started by shaking soot from her hair. It rained in a shower, cascading to the ground like a dusting of filth. It left her head a mangy mess, framing her oily face as she tauntingly flicked her tongue. Then, running her hands down her sides, she parted her legs and bent her knees just enough to rock her hips side to side as she rolled her shoulders in a sexy sway. On any ordinary woman, this move would have played it safe and simple. On Seong-Hui, Homeless Whore, it revealed her new depths.
Her skirt rode up her thigh to flash her wild cunt, pubes soaked through from the rush of Ishiguro's attack. Her nipple ring glinted in the sun, bedazzling with its brief flashes. The proud, commanding Geomijul leader of yesteryear would not have offered such a display, too concerned with how it might affect her standing with her grunts. This Seong-Hui relished in it. Savored their eyes drawn to her in spite of her grime.
"Lucky for you, I sold my underwear on my first night out of Geomijul," Seong-Hui said. "Got top dollar too. Good thing I didn't wait. They would probably go for a couple yen now."
She went from rocking to a fully shimmy, the motion riding up her torso as she peeled her shirt to show her unspoiled breast. Licking her red lips, she toggled her bare nub and watched all three yakuza settle into her thrall. They practically had hearts floating over them. For her reward, they slumped on the spot, dazed and dumbfounded. Unable to think, act, speak. Right where she wanted them.
Sauntering to the nearest, Kawakami, she used her next skill. She should have found it repulsive. Really scraping the bottom of the barrel, destroying what remained of her dignity. But as she got down on her knees, unzipping Kawakami's pants, she took one look at his hard-on flopping free and suddenly none of it mattered. His musk passed over her crinkling nose, so much better than the ever-present stink always hanging off her. She would indulge, and give him a bitchy present to remember her by.
"I hope you like my Nasty BJ," she said with a flirty bat of her eyes, then took his cock whole.
All ten inches. His thick fuckstick stretched her pretty mouth. Her teeth scraped along, slowly, agonizingly, as she pushed it to the furthest recesses of her throat. No gagging. Calm and contained, Seong-Hui sucked Kawakami off with the steady flow of an expert getting her fix. Her tongue lapped along its underside. Bathed it. Coddled it. Like making out with a devoted lover. Cradling his sack, she massaged the two huge testes within to coax more. More. Always more. She could never get enough of a man's spunk when in this state. It consumed her pussy with unrivaled desire befitting the second half of her degrading new job.
She nearly came from this alone. She resisted.
In minutes, she could feel a growing surge through her lips. She waited, humming, his bulb held at her plump pillowy kissers when at last his dick emptied its torrent of jism down her greedy fuckhole. Its spurts clogged as she swallowed too slow, puffing her cheeks. She breathed deep in those precious moments between loads, nostrils burning beyond repair. They were trained for semen now. Scorched earth, too gone to appreciate gentler fare of flowers and soaps fancied by good upstanding women. It joined her palate as one of the finest dishes in her diet as a Homeless Whore.
Once he was spent, Seong-Hui released his withering prick. Cum dribbled down her chin. Then, she bore witness to the man grasping his crotch in anguish. That's when she knew the effect kicked in. Burn. Like a fire in his loins, it seared his nerves with her sloppy blowjob. He would suffer with every move he took.
The best part? He was still charmed. They all were. And she was going to rub it in.
She stepped away. Turned around. As she bent over, her skirt slithered upward ever so slightly til getting stuck on the sheer size of what it contained. Her dumptruck rear visibly strained the garment to its tightest threads. Any further and it would burst wide open. She gave it mercy before it could. Grabbing the hem, she tugged it past the curve and let loose her most powerful attack: Essence of Filthy Ass.
"Like what you see, boys?" Seong-Hui taunted, glancing over her shoulder with the grin of a wicked bitch eager to ruin sex for each and every one of them.
She gave it a smack. Gasped. Acted coy as a red mark rose on her jiggling flesh. She parlayed it into a mean twerk, popping her hips to a rhythm in her head that worked up a wet clap in those fat buns. Their crashing and parting unveiled her hot asshole between them. Which her hand inched toward. Down the small of her back. Into the fray. Flipping the men off, she rimmed her anus with her middle finger and let her twerk settle to the joy of her leather gloves rippling along its soft wrinkles. Teasing the men by teasing herself, except she had full control. With it, she slipped that finger in to the knuckle and used her thumb to hold the others at bay.
"Mmm... you see that? I can even fuck myself better than your tiny dicks." She pistoned it to prove her point, barely hugging the digit with its loose grip. She would persisted for hours if she could. Putting on a show, audience at her attention, staring into the abyss of her slutty hole as she plugged and unplugged it in front of their bloodshot eyes. But something happened she had not counted on.
"RrrrAAAAAHHH!"
Her charm wore off. In its place, steamed a red mist of Rage. Komori's charge caught her by surprise. So did his angry prick. Too prone to flee, Seong-Hui took his bulging veiny shaft straight to her pucker.
"RRRGH you BASTARD!" she screamed. It tore her asunder, ripping her battered pit with the in and out, in and out of a pissed off bull beating its target to death.
That's how it felt. Like her ass was dying. Clenching vainly like a mouth around a jawbreaker too big to handle. He pounded, and pounded, and pounded from behind, reducing the Homeless Whore to a weak shambles held upright by Komori gripping her hair. She swung side to side. Feet off the ground. Arms hanging limp. Until Komori slipped his under hers in a full nelson lock that had her rigid as the cock inside her, back to his chest.
She slid to the base on his fucker and wailed. Her noxious stench leaked from her hairy armpits, but to her horror it fueled his frenzy. Its nasal assault stirred the senses, got their blood flowing, livening their pricks. She learned this the hard way, when Ishiguro rammed his into her sopping twat.
"Let me go!" Seong-Hui commanded, with all the power vested in a woman getting double dicked.
Legs around Ishiguro's waist, chin pushed into her collar bone, her fine features creased into a snarl as her boobs smacked them with the force of their fucking. She cursed her lack of a bra, lipstick smearing into her rack as it popped free of her shirt to pop her across her face. Writhing on them. Defenseless. Moaning like the whore she had become. She came when they came, three bodies shuddering, her moreso in the middle. It sapped what remained of her strength. Barely awake, she sagged between the men as they roused from their fuck-blind rage.
"Wh... what the fuck did she do to us?"
They dropped her. Like a sack of garbage, she thumped at their feet. Rasping for breath.
Tucking away their tired dicks, Ishiguro and Komori looked to each other, then to her, scowling at the pile of whore between them. Semen spilled from her three spent holes in small puddles. Vivid reminders of the disgusting tryst her dancing had inflamed. They could off her. The question was... did they want people to know why?
No. It turned out, neither planned to risk their reps over this. But they could do the next best thing.
"Let's ditch the bitch."
Collecting her once more, one to an end, they carried Seong-Hui to the nearby dumpster. A single steady heave flung her over its edge. Bags cushioned her fall. Lid slamming, the clueless whore smiled in post-coital reverie and buried her face in a pile of garbage beside her. Nodding off to dreams filthier than her, flooding her trash bed with the foul fruits of her labor.
--------------
"Oho! Someone found a new Sujimon," Professor Morikasa, aka Sujimon Sensei, excitedly proclaimed. He gleefully analyzed the data.

No. 69
Seong-Hui
Category: Vagrant
Location: Isezaki Ijincho Isezaki Road, Other
Rarity: (6 stars)
Skill: Skank Smog
         Dirty Dancing
   Nasty BJ
         Essence of Filthy Ass
Weakness: Blunt, Electric
Drops: Trash
   Pocket Tissues
           Cockroach
Features: Ex-leader of Geomijul. This homeless whore gives trashy a bad name. Beware her status attacks.

"What a nasty specimen," the professor surmised. "Maybe I'll send that Ichiban fellow after her. Can't go wrong with more data."
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Yakuza LAD: The Homeless Whore of Hyakkei Alley