Mark took off his helmet and collasped on the shabby red couch in the breakroom, taking care not to disturb his tender area below. Miss Scarlett had been especially rough with him the night before, having forgotten to pick up her dry-cleaning, and he was paying for it now with every step he took. That punishment, the Shinra grunt knew, would be nothing compared to what would happen to him if she found out what he'd done just now.
He was helpless; she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and she moved with grace and loveliness in every step. Her hair was the darkest ebony, shimmering as it cascaded past her shoulders. Her body was toned and wonderfully curved, her legs and arms muscular yet very feminine. Those eyes, though, were what Mark struggled with the most. They'd been a stunning shade of crimson, sparkling in the drab light and filling him with an excitment he hadn't felt since before joining Shinra. And so very fierce, yet so gentle that they caressed his soul.
He had escorted Miss Scarlett to bind the prisoner to the chair. She was to be publicly executed for her dealings with the terrorists. Mark had secured her to the icy steel chair and locked her shackles, leaving her to her fate. Just before they left the room, Scarlett had turned and slapped her right across the face. Mark knew it must've hurt like hell, but the girl had just stared back at his boss, her crimson eyes glaring in defiance.
That look had been too much for the soldier. Scarlett muttered one last insult to her prey and beckoned Mark to follow her out, and as he left he made sure to drop the key to the shackles where the girl could see it. The rest was up to her now.
He sighed. Maybe she hadn't seen it. Maybe he'd end up getting away with it. He adjusted himself nervously on the couch, his rough uniform rubbing his injuries and making him wince. As the door creaked open he put on a calm face and ingnored the pain. Another footsoldier entered the room.
"Place smells like stale coffee as usual," the soldier said, taking his mask off and throwing it on a ripped green chair in the corner. "Did you hear about that prisoner escape?"
"What?" Mark choked as his throat seized up.
"Yeah, I'm trying to relax a little before they call the red alert. Should be any minute now."
Tifa struggled to stay on her feet, limping her way down the barren metalic hallway Shinra loved so much. Her vision was blurry and she fought to stay concsious, though she was starting to feel something else as well.
"What did that bitch gas me with?' she heard herself say, her voice echoing in her ears.
She steadied herself with the wall, making her way to a door that broke off from the main hall. She pushed her back flat against it and rested, taking in deep, sweet breaths. She tried to clear her head, but it was no use. Her skin was on fire and her whole body was glistening with sweat. The tight black shorts under her skirt were soaked as well, though not with sweat.
"Goddamn," she muttered, her fingers lightly tracing the outside of her womanhood. "I'm gonna knock that little hussie out next time I see her!" She took one last deep breath, pushed herself to her feet, and entered the door.
Mark gasped as he saw his angel come through the door. The other soldier shot up with a start, grabbing his assault rifle and leveling it at her.
"Stand down!" he called out, but she was on top of him immediately. She batted his gun away in a blink, jabbed his chin, and sent him flying with a roundhouse kick, the sound ringing throughout the break room like a squashed melon. The soldier hit the chair across from the couch and flipped it over. The man came to a stop and lay motionless.
"H-hold it!" stammered Mark as he made for his weapon. Tifa disarmed him as effortlessly as the other, grabbing him by the arm and throwing him to the floor.
As she hovered over the man, she saw he just barely was one. He couldn't be older than nineteen, just joining the military. He had a look of terror on his face, though he also had a rather pronounced bulge in his uniform. She tried to catch her breath, but the heat and shockwaves in her body were overwhelming. She'd never escape like this. She would need release.
"My my," she said to him, just the slightest grin on her face, "Is this appropriate for a soldier on duty?" She kicked off her boots and put her foot on the grunt's tent.
He winced as she touched him, though it was not as hard as he thought. He looked up at her as her foot rubbed him, her thigh-high black socks forming perfectly to her shapely legs, the calf bulging and contracting as she worked. Those red eyes of hers regarded him kindly, and he couldn't help but melt before her.
Tifa's own sex throbbed and swelled. This kid was so cute! She'd never felt more powerful, and the thought that she'd made him so hard got her even hotter. She began to be more forceful, stomping and trampling harder. He winced and began to whimper, so she stopped.
