Bow-Chicka–Wow-Wow
by Cookie Heist
Summary: In which Cloud Strife realizes just how dangerous it is to be a girl in Wall Market.
Genre: Humor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some sexual situations, mild language
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII. I do know what Cloud's official lingerie looks like now, but I've decided that this is more fun. I blame one of my friends for the bit of knowledge about the balloons and the pudding. I have no idea where she got that information, and I've never actually confirmed it, but intellectually it makes some sense…
Notes: This fic is old. I have no idea why it's been hiding on my computer for so long.
Cloud held the flimsy panties away from him with two fingers, as if they were some contaminated thing. Draped over his arm was the dress the tailor had made, as well as a lacy, black bra. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" he demanded.
"Put it on?" Aerith suggested, stifling a giggle. "Go on, go ahead." She pointed in the direction of the tailor's dressing room.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes and reminding himself he was doing this for Tifa, Cloud stomped to the dressing room, tore the curtain aside, and closed it behind him with a flourish.
He set the dress, bra, and panties on the bench in the little changing room and kicked off his boots without untying them. He unbuckled his belt and slid out of the attached suspenders and shoulder guard. Then he pulled off his gloves and wrist guards, setting them on the bench as well. He fingered the hem of the purple dress, touching it with naked skin for the first time. It was soft and light, with a slight shine to it. Nothing like the rough and sturdy SOLDIER uniform he was used to wearing. He pulled his navy blue turtleneck over his head.
He tossed the turtleneck to the floor to form a pile with his boots. They were soon joined by his pants.
Swallowing his pride and the lump in his throat, he reached for the first step of his transformation: the underclothing. The bra looked easy enough to put on, and not nearly as emasculating as the panties…
He slipped his muscular arms through the bra straps and reached behind his back to fasten the hooks, only to find that he couldn't reach.
He contorted his shoulders awkwardly and tried again.
No dice.
This was getting stupid. "…Aerith?"
"Hm?"
"I need…" he swallowed. "Help."
Aerith poked her head around the curtain. "Come out here. We don't both fit in there."
Cloud gave her a look but obeyed. As he stepped out of the changing room, he became uncomfortably aware of three sets of eyes on him: the tailor's, the tailor's daughter's, and Aerith's. He supposed he was a rather odd sight—he was wearing nothing but boxers, socks, and, of course, the lacy bra that was sliding off of his shoulders. He reached for the hook again. "How do you girls do this without help?"
"Oh, umm," Aerith giggled. "There's an easier way. Take it off. Now flip it upside-down, so the straps are down. Okay, now put it around your waist with the hook in the front. There, now you can see to hook it."
Cloud followed her instructions, fastening the bra. It seemed to him to be both upside-down and backwards.
"Now turn it around so it faces forward, put your arms through, pull it up, and voila," she finished, smiling sweetly.
The bra, its cups and under-wires noticeably empty, sat awkwardly at the level of Cloud's pectoral muscles. He stared at it. Glanced from himself, to Aerith, to the tailor's daughter, and back to himself again.
"You're missing a little something, though," Aerith added. She turned to address the tailor's daughter. "What do you think we should stuff him with?"
"Well… This is going to sound weird, but I was talking to those brothers at the gym, and they mentioned that balloons filled with pudding work really well. They feel real and everything. I think we have some pudding… We live above the shop, you see…"
"Wow, really? Let's try it!" Aerith exclaimed, with a little too much enthusiasm.
Several minutes later, Aerith was shoving pudding-filled balloons into his bra, then squishing and jiggling them around until she got an angle that looked "right."
Cloud wondered vaguely if he should be disturbed or turned on by the fact that theoretically she was fondling his breasts. Though they weren't actually connected to his central nervous system, since they were balloons…
Aerith stepped back and beckoned for the tailor's daughter to come look.
She nodded. "It's passable."
"You should be all right as long as you don't stand on your head. Or run. Now go put on the rest! Come on, Cloud!" the pretty brunette exclaimed.
Cloud swept his blond hair into some semblance of order and then stretched the equally-blond, braided wig over his hair. Aerith tied the dress' pink sash into a large bow at his back. "Oh, here, you forgot your tiara. And you'll need some shoes."
"My father made some shoes to go with some of the dresses a while back. They didn't sell very well, so we still have a bunch. You're welcome to have a pair," the tailor's daughter put in. "With the inspiration you guys have given him, he'll probably have tons more designs ready in no time. I'll go find your size."
She came back with a pair of plain black pumps that Cloud unhappily slipped his feet into.
"Oh, don't forget! You've got to smell like a girl, too. Where's that cologne you got from that lady at the bar?" Aerith exclaimed. She snatched up the bottle. "'Sexy.' That's an interesting name for a fragrance." She pumped a little bit of it onto the inside of her forearm then sniffed it. "Mmm, it does smell good though."
Cloud's nose wrinkled. He disagreed. He coughed when Aerith sprayed what seemed to be a never-ending torrent of the stuff at him. "I didn't smell that bad to begin with!"
"Oh, you're fine." Aerith waved his complaint aside. "Wow, you're looking very pretty, Miss Cloud."
Cloud glowered at the nickname but turned to look at his reflection in the tailor's full-length mirror. For a second, he didn't recognize himself. This disguise really was somewhat convincing, though it scared him to admit it. The dress added volume to his hips and chest but was pulled tight at the waist by the sash, giving him something like an hourglass figure. It also had a high collar that hid his Adam's apple and long sleeves that minimized his arm muscles. The hem brushed his ankles.
He didn't like the draft he was getting under his skirt. It made him feel exposed and vulnerable. It didn't really help that the next layer under that was the pair of lace-trimmed panties that were too low-cut and too tight in all the wrong places.
His shoes weren't exactly comfortable, either. The high heels forced his feet into a diagonal, putting more pressure on his toes and the balls of his feet the longer he remained standing. He hadn't tried to walk any significant distance yet, but he already knew the heels of the pumps couldn't be exactly stable.
The puffy, braided wig was making his head itch, and seeing himself in makeup was just plain odd. His lipstick was already starting to come off because he kept compulsively rubbing his lips together, trying to get over the alien feeling of something coating his mouth, as well as figure out if it had a taste. His face was coated in a fine, pale powder foundation, and his cheekbones were dusted with blush. His mako-blue eyes glowed from beneath dark eyeliner and long, heavily-mascara-ed eyelashes.
Aerith's reflection walked into the frame of the mirror next to his. She'd picked out a new dress for the "occasion" as well, and was now striking various poses in it in front of the mirror. It was a smooth, red gown that fit closely to her curves. Cloud raised his eyebrows. It was strange to see her in something other than her pink dress and jacket, but this looked quite good on her as well.
"Hey, Miss Cloud, stop admiring your pretty reflection! Isn't it time to go rescue your friend?" she asked him.
All in all, Cloud arrived at Don Corneo's mansion at the edge of Wall Market feeling increasingly uncomfortable. When he heard the reason why Tifa had come there, he began to feel even worse. She had actually planned to seduce the Don in order to get information out of him? Cloud couldn't believe it. And now he and Aerith were involved in this hare-brained scheme as well. Why couldn't they just threaten the Don at sword-point to find out what they needed to know? That was more Cloud's style. He supposed this was a non-violent approach, but why would AVALANCHE choose now to start being non-violent?
Cloud forced himself to calm down. The Don would certainly choose Tifa. She had the chest and the legs for it. But, he knew, she was also tough enough to brutally castrate anyone who tried anything she didn't like.
If that filthy perv laid one hand on Aerith, however…
Cloud wished he could have found a way to smuggle the Buster Sword in under his dress.
He stood in front of Don Corneo's desk, between Tifa and Aerith, looking demurely at the ground and trying to stand like a girl. He was sure that if he looked directly at the Don, he would see right through his disguise. Their cover would be blown, they'd probably be taken captive, and who knew what would happen to Tifa and Aerith in a place like this?
He snuck a glance at the Don through his eyelashes and failed to understand how this man by himself could be dangerous. Don Corneo had a whorl of wispy blond hair in the center of his balding head, and his nose was decorated with a copious yellow mustache. He was so obese that it looked almost as though he had inflated and would roll away if pushed. I could take 'im, Cloud decided.
The Don's eyes sparkled with glee, and he stood up to closer examine the "beautiful women" before him. His silken robes trailed behind him as he walked.
"Which one, which one?" He turned to Aerith, bypassed Cloud to look at Tifa. Then he crossed to stand in front of Cloud again. He stared. Squinted. Looked him up and down.
He knows, Cloud thought. This is it. Cover's blown. We're outta here. He…does this guy ever blink?
Cloud turned his head to the side. Don Corneo's eyes followed. Then his whole head mimicked the motion. He began to grin.
Cloud turned to the other side. The silly grin widened. The hair stood up on the back of Cloud's neck. Okay, he was definitely getting the creepy vibe now.
"My choice for tonight is…" a drum roll sounded somewhere. "This healthy-looking girl!"
Cloud's eyes widened. The Don was pointing straight at him.
That couldn't be right. There had to be someone behind him. He glanced rapidly from side to side.
There wasn't.
"Wa-wait a sec!" Cloud exclaimed as the Don made a move towards him. Then he realized his mistake and tried to change the pitch of his voice so that hopefully it would sound more like a deep-voiced girl than a man. "I mean, uh, please wait a moment!"
"Whoo-hoo! I love chickies who play hard-to-get!" Don Corneo exclaimed. "Yeowza!" He turned to the bodyguards that stood at either side of his desk. "You two can have the other ones!"
"Yes sir! Thank you, sir!" The two guards saluted, turning lascivious grins towards Aerith and Tifa.
"Well, then, shall we go, my pretty?" The Don beckoned to Cloud, turning in what was presumably the direction of his bedroom. Cloud followed, his heart heavy with intense trepidation. His high heels made clicking noises that echoed down the ornate hallway. As he was trying not to focus on the task at hand (and therefore maintain his sanity) he suddenly felt his ankle wobble, and before he knew it, he was falling over, losing balance in the uncomfortable shoes. With a high-pitched yelp of surprise that, on any normal occasion, he would have been mortified to have uttered, he grabbed for the first thing that would keep him from toppling to the ground.
This just happened to be the back of Don Corneo's robe.
"Ho ho, getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we, my dear?" he chuckled, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
Cloud regained his equilibrium, watching the other man warily. Then they turned a corner, and he was led into a bedroom, richly-ornamented to the point of gaudiness.
Cloud's eyes widened as he glanced around. So much gold! Almost everything in the room seemed to be accented with or plated in the soft yellow metal. Little flags of greed started popping up in Cloud's head. If it paid this much to be a Sector 6 mob boss, then he could only imagine the Shinra…
But just looking at this room, how much was this worth? Maybe his position wasn't such a bad one when you threw in the indulgences, the possibilities of lavish gifts with high resale value…
Cloud banished that thought before it progressed any farther. Now was not the time to consider becoming anyone's mistress.
"Ah, we're finally alone!" Don Corneo giggled, bouncing onto the large bed in the center of the room. Its satin sheets were emblazoned with a large gold kanji reading "heaven."
Cloud resisted the urge to gag.
"Well then, pussycat, come to daddy!"
Cloud was, needless to say, reluctant. How was one supposed to go about this sort of thing, anyway?
"Well, daddy, pussycat wants to know what you have in store for the man with the gun arm."
"Shh. No words. Only emotions."
"But you're such a strong, powerful man. Someone like you should be out there taking down that menace to society, AVALANCHE."
"Why yes, my sweet, that's exactly what I plan to do after I finish raping you senseless. Then I'll throw you out just like all the other girls and I'll continue to kidnap women and force them into prostitution and wonder why none of them can ever satisfy my needs."
Was anyone honestly that dumb? Cloud doubted it. Then again, he had also doubted that he could ever pass for a woman, and here he was. Then again, maybe he had been found out after all, and this man was really a closet homosexual with a fetish for cross-dressing and…
"You're so cute." Don Corneo sighed. "I never get tired of looking at you. Do you like me too?"
"Of course!" Cloud responded, false enthusiasm betrayed by his attempts to stay as far away from the Don's bed as possible.
"You sure do know how to make a guy feel good. Then, wh-what do you want to do?" His voice shook with excitement and anticipation.
"Whatever you want, daddy." He tried to layer his voice with innuendo. Don't really care… Then the thought hit him. Every night he chooses a different woman. That's 7 a week, 365 a year…This place must be a breeding ground for STDs!
"Oh man! I can't stand it!" the Don was growing more and more agitated with each passing second. "All right then…"
Gonorrhea, syphilis, AIDS, genital warts, crabs… Did he lock the door when we came in here? Running for it wouldn't be that suspicious—I'm just a poor girl who doesn't want to die of some disgusting horrible awful—
As everything Cloud had ever seen or heard from a sex education standpoint flashed before his eyes, Don Corneo exclaimed, "Give me a kiss! A kiss!"
Cloud didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he exhaled. "All right…" he breathed. A kiss wasn't so bad. Could be a lot worse. The guy didn't have any obvious cold sores or anything, but if he got herpes from this…
Deciding he had no other choice, he leaned towards the Don. Froze midway. Swallowed a lump in his throat. Started over again.
Would it have to be a good kiss for him to get any information out of this guy? Probably. Keep him distracted or whatever.
Gawd, he sucked at this sort of thing.
Cloud leaned in, squeezed his eyes shut so that he would not have to watch the repercussions of his actions, and pressed his lipstick-coated mouth to Don Corneo's.
That was the moment that Tifa and Aerith chose to burst into the room, weapons drawn, ready to rescue their damsel in distress.