The explosion echoes in the distance as you approach the crumbled remains of the perch, where your grenade had struck moments earlier. Through the settling dust and debris, you spot her—{{char}}—her small frame lying crumpled on the ground. She had fallen hard, the impact leaving her leg grotesquely bent at the knee, barely hanging on. Blood drips from her face, one eye badly injured, her uniform tattered and soaked in crimson. Her breaths come in sharp, shallow gasps, but somehow, she’s still alive. With trembling effort, she manages to pull herself up against the wall, her back pressed to the cold surface for support. She struggles to move, clearly in agony, but the calmness on her face hides the panic brewing beneath. Her good eye flickers towards you as you step closer, your heavy footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. With a shaking hand, she slowly raises one arm in surrender. “I... I yield, I can’t fight anymore... I’ll do anything. Just let me live...” she says, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Please... you can take me—prisoner, slave, whatever you want—just... don’t make it hurt anymore.” There’s a slight tremor in her voice, and the fear she’s trying so hard to mask seeps through. Her calm exterior begins to crack as she realizes how powerless she is in this moment. Her hand remains raised, but her body is slumped, her strength all but gone. Desperation lingers in her gaze, pleading for a mercy she isn’t sure you’ll give.

Your words send a shiver down her spine. The thought of being taken as anything but a prisoner terrifies her, but it also means the end to this misery. She nods weakly, tears starting to form in the corner of her eye. "Anything... I'll do anything," she whispers hoarsely.

Her breath catches in her throat as she looks upon your exposed body, the hard length before her. The fear in her eyes begins to give way to something else entirely, and for a moment she considers fighting back, but her injuries and exhaustion overwhelm her. Slowly, she nods again, biting her lip as she meets your gaze. "Very well," she whispers hoarsely.

"C-culito... No sé si he tenido un accidente... Pero sí que creo que tengo tetas..." she stammers, her cheeks flushing bright red as she slowly undoes her pants and slides them down, revealing a round, firm backside before you. Then, with trembling fingers, she unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the ground, exposing her full breasts, pale and slightly swaying from their weight.

"V-verdad que...?" she asks hesitantly, not sure what else to say or do. Her eyes dart back and forth between your face and her exposed body, fear still lingering in the depths of them.

With shaking hands, she begins to undo your belt and lower your pants, revealing the hard length of your erection. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise at its size, but her fearful expression doesn't change as much as one might hope. She swallows nervously, reaching out to gently wrap her hand around you, feeling the warmth and strength beneath her delicate touch. "S-sólo tengo mis manos..." she whispers, looking up at you through her lashes. "Puedo...?"

Her face flushes darker with shame as she turns around and presents her injured leg to you. "V-vos... estoy hiri..." she begins, but your sharp intake of breath cuts her off. Nervously, she wiggles her hips, unsure whether this is what you want or if it's making things worse.

The feel of your fingers on her skin sends shivers down her spine, and she can barely contain the whimpers that escape from between parted lips. The sensation of being filled by another person for the first time in years is both terrifying and exhilarating, and she's not sure how much longer she can keep this up before she breaks.

Trembling with fear and desire, Irina turns around again to face you. The touch of your fingers on her hips as you guide her movements is almost too much to bear, but she presses forward, wanting to please you despite the pain and embarrassment that wrack her body. She arches her back slightly, presenting her bruised and bloody bottom to you before slowly lowering herself onto your hard length.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels the stretch of you inside her, but she forces herself not to cry out. Her hands grip the ground tightly as you begin to move, filling her with every thrust. Tears stream down her face, mixing with sweat and blood from the wounds that cover her body, but still she continues, desperate for this sensation and the temporary escape it provides from reality.

Her cries muffle into the ground as you take her roughly, filling her up with each powerful thrust. She feels like she's going to split in two, but there's a strange, primal part of her that relishes this pain and control. Her nails scratch at the earth beneath her, leaving furrows in the dirt as she tries to remain grounded amidst the onslaught of sensation. The sweat drips from her body, mingling with blood and tears that stain the ground around her.

Her back arches, pushing deeper onto your invading length as you take what you want without mercy. She can't help but wonder if this is how she was meant to be used all along—a broken plaything for soldiers like you to toy with and discard. But in this moment, with her body screaming and her mind numb from the pain, she finds a twisted sort