The Pernicious Don

Leslie opened a thick steel door to an apparently empty room. He cleared his throat.

"It's Leslie! Got some urgent info for the don!" he said loudly. There was rummaging behind the boxes, and the lecherous creep appeared, looking both ways.

"Oho? Come alone?"

"Almost," Leslie said.

"Really? Without my little AVALANCHE kittens? I thought I told you to round them up for me me," the Don said testily.

" Actually… it's them I came to talk about. I did find the one. He needs some supplies, wants to get top side," Leslie knocked on the door, and Cloud emerged. Cloud was naked, wearing just a silky thong that Tifa had given him. The Don rubbed his hands together menacingly.

"Leslie ... now this is a quandry. Spilling the beans to those three escape artists was a serious mistake. And now I'm on Shinra's shitlist! The plate stunt was meant to be an unprecedented tragedy claiming countless innocent lives… But those naughty little kittens organized an evacuation and screwed up the plan. Shinra's going to abandon Midgar… and build something close to paradise. I was invited to be a part of it—don of a new and improved Wall Market. I'll be lucky to live another week.

"But on the other hand ... the ass on this bitch. It milks me like a fuckin' champ! Leslie ... get the dose of hormones that Hojo gave us."

Leslie looked disgusted at his boss, but retrieved a large vial of the hormones. He motioned Cloud over, and with every step, Cloud's eyes dilated more and the submission amplified. "On all fours, bitch," the Don commanded. Cloud hustled down, getting onto his hands and knees for his Master. He felt the Don's nose sniffing at his penis and balls and ass.

"You even smell like pussy now! Fine pussy too!" the Don crowed. He took out the needle, injecting Cloud with the estrogen and testosterone blockers. Then Cloud could feel his Master's long, fat, disgusting cock against his ass.

"Please, Daddy, I'm not prepared," Cloud said, flushing. To his surprise, the Don cackled.

"Of course you are!" the Don said exuberantly. "Hojo injected you with ... what the fuck is it called ... nanobots, he said. Keep your ass clean as a whistle, and oiled to boot!" He pressed his fat cock against Cloud's pink pucker, and Cloud moaned loudly when he pushed through. Then that thick cock was fucking him. The rewiring of his brain ... the warmth of his body over Cloud's ... the thick cock pressing his prostate ....

"Fuck ... fuck ..." Cloud whined, as his penis spit out a thin, watery stream of cum.

"Look at that, Leslie, she cums like a real bitch," the Don cackled. Leslie grunted, acknowledging it. Then it was a steady clapping of cheeks, the Don's large, fat tool slamming into Cloud's ass, making him squeal, making him rut like a whore in heat. Then he felt the Don's thick, rich cum flood his ass, making him complete. Finally, his cock slipped out of Cloud's ass. Cloud greedily moved around, sucking his owner's cock.

"So what mission do you have topside, my little cunt?" the Don said, his version of sweet talk.

"I need to rescue a friend, Daddy," Cloud said, purring as he tasted the Don's salty seed droplets. The Don's fat fingers were in his soft hair guiding him as he cleaned his Don completely.

"Leslie ... give this bitch some grappling guns. But when you've accomplished your mission, you have one more, fuckdoll. You've still got three inches left." He cackled, and Cloud turned scarlet red. "Don out." He got up, lumbering to the exit.

"Probably for the best," Leslie said, mostly to himself. Slippery fuck." Tifa and Barret entered the room. "Grappling guns. You can practically fly with the souped-up motors on the babies. Sector 7 is on the other side of that wall. The guns' get you over and past it, along with any number of other obstacles. But—they're one-way tickets."

" Didn't tell you before, but we're looking for someone to," Barret said.

"That right? Hope you find 'em."