"I've been meaning to ask... what turned you into this?"
Spring 2024. Donbas Region.
Night had fallen. Two infantrymen in combat gear crouched within a ruin, gazing at the starlight through a jagged hole in the roof, chatting to kill the time.
"What do you mean?" Valentina turned her head slightly toward her new comrade, a man she'd known for barely two weeks. Her brow furrowed, not grasping his point.
"Since I got here, I've seen two types of people," the companion said, standing up with a solemn gaze. "They're either having a mental breakdown from the terror, or they're like me—just trying to survive long enough to take the money and go home. But you... you don't show a hint of that. Tina, are you actually enjoying the war?"
Valentina Orekhov's dust-covered face showed a rare trace of bewilderment.
Enjoying it? She had lived alongside conflict since childhood. Until this moment, she had never truly reflected on it. But her comrade had a point. To her, this wasn't the "hell" everyone else described. The crack of rifles and the thunder of artillery only made her heart race, her adrenaline surging with a familiar warmth.
The man shook his head with a smile. "The fact that you're hesitating proves the answer. God, Tina, I'm fucking jealous of you." He pulled a rolled cigarette from his pocket with mud-stained fingers. As he lit it, she noticed his hand was trembling.
Valentina remained silent, her pale green eyes flickering in the starlight as she tried to burn his face into her memory. He was just another reinforcement, replacing her previous partner who was now a skeleton beneath the rubble of the suburbs. Before him, there had been others—faces she was slowly starting to forget. She wanted to remember this one.
Suddenly, a faint, spine-chilling hum vibrated through the air. It grew louder, closer...
The cigarette was crushed into the dirt. They grabbed their rifles, holding their breath as they moved deeper into the ruins. A second later, the hum turned into a sharp, high-pitched whine.
"Run!"
Valentina screamed at the inexperienced soldier who was still trying to hide behind a crumbling wall. She bolted with everything she had.
BOOM!
The blast threw her forward, just outside the lethal radius of the FPV drone. Behind her, the wall collapsed with a deafening roar. She scrambled up, scanning for follow-up strikes like a human radar. When the silence returned, she hurried back.
The dust settled, revealing her comrade pinned beneath the masonry. He was soaked in blood, motionless. Her expression remained calm. In the blink of an eye, a talking man had become a corpse.
She reached into his pocket, retrieved a blood-stained envelope, slung his rifle over her shoulder, and vanished into the night. Her heart was pounding, her adrenaline was high, but her emotions were flat. She realized then that her comrade was wrong. She didn't enjoy the war. She just didn't know where else to go or what else to be.
In the darkness, Valentina was awakened by a rhythmic, wet slapping sound. High-pitched, feminine moans filled the air, and the humid atmosphere carried the thick, metallic scent of sex.
She opened her eyes and found herself in a wooden house. Two shadows flickered against the wall in the firelight.
She saw two naked bodies intertwined on a bed. A man was on his knees, gripping a pair of pale, tender buttocks, driving his waist forward with primal force. His weapon—as thick as the barrel of a grenade launcher—plunged repeatedly into the slender woman. With every thrust, pink flesh was dragged in and out, causing the woman's long legs to quiver and her white toes to curl in spasms.
"Ohhh! Chu... Mr. Chuck! I'll be good! I'll always be good! Ugh-yiiiiii—!"
The girl, a young Asian, was arched in a submissive doggy-style position, her hands clawing at the blankets. Her eyes were rolled back, saliva dripping from her lips as she wailed in ecstasy. Behind her, "using" her like a master, was Chuck—the man who had defeated Valentina in hand-to-hand combat.
Cold metal bit into Valentina's wrists and ankles. Her mind cleared, and she realized she was bound by bronze shackles, her limbs splayed and tethered to the roof beams. A dull ache radiated from her stomach; looking down, she saw a massive, deep purple bruise on her abs.
She had lost. Despite two ambushes and a weapon advantage, she had been decimated. She accepted the defeat; she wasn't the type to make excuses. But Chuck hadn't killed her. He had brought her here to be his prisoner.
The slapping grew more frantic. The girl's screams turned hoarse. Valentina remembered Tiffany Tang's warnings: Toys. Sex. Fuck.
To be defeated on an island and wake up to see your captor ruthlessly ravaging another woman while you were bound beneath the bed... the implication was clear. Yet, Valentina remained calm. On the battlefield, death was a common end, and being a woman meant a fate far worse than death if captured. She was prepared for anything.
But being prepared didn't mean being compliant. She was Valentina, the White Ghost of the front lines. If this man thought he could break her as easily as these "Asian sluts," he was dead wrong.
Ever since her loyalty reached its peak, the former JK rebel, Kaede, had become a pampered kitten. During the day, she was obedient; at night, she became a human doll. The harder Chuck pounded into her tender, newly-blossomed depths, the more she cried out her loyalty through tears.
Chuck pressed his body forward, forcing Kaede from her hands-and-knees into a flat, prone position. Her small breasts were crushed against the blankets. Her hand instinctively reached out, grabbing the sweaty palm of her childhood friend, Shizuka.
Shizuka lay beside them, her tanned, athletic thighs spread wide. She shielded her beet-red face with her arm, her large breasts heaving. Her own "flower" was twitching, leaking a steady stream of white heat as she drifted in a semi-conscious daze.
On the other side of the room, Janet, Julia, and the mother-daughter duo of Elena and Kaylee were already fast asleep under their blankets. Chuck's "essence" had improved their health to the point where they could fall into a deep, restorative sleep regardless of the noise. They were used to it. With five women to satisfy, Chuck often spent two to three hours every night filling them up.
Kaede gripped Shizuka's hand as her consciousness blurred under Chuck's relentless battering. Her pert buttocks rippled like jelly with every impact. Finally, with a massive, final lunge, her legs went rigid. Her toes curled until they turned white. With a series of wet, squelching sounds from deep within her womb, she let out a piercing scream of climax.
Chuck felt the rhythmic, desperate squeezing of the girl's walls. He buried his spear deep against her smooth, fleshy gate and emptied his magazine. A warm tide spilled out, coating their thighs.
After a moment, Chuck withdrew. He stood up, looking at the two spent girls leaking white cream, a satisfied smirk on his face. This was the life—working hard for his women by day, and filling them with his seed by night.
But speaking of conquest...
Chuck walked to the center of the room and stood over the silver-haired Russian. She lay perfectly still, her eyes closed, her breathing steady.
Faking sleep. Chuck had sensed her wake up long ago. He figured she was waiting for late night to try something. He wasn't worried about her escaping those shackles, but he didn't want any annoying noise later.
He reached out and kicked her thigh lightly. "Stop faking."
Valentina didn't hesitate. She opened her pale green eyes and stared up at him with cold, murderous indifference. There was a hint of disdain on her face.
Chuck didn't rush to "fry" her. He pulled over a stool and sat down, crossing his arms. "What was it... Valentina, right?"
She didn't respond.
"Suka Blyat," Chuck said clearly.
Clink! Valentina's muscles flared, her veins popping as she strained against the bronze shackles, making them rattle against the wood. Her abs tightened, and her face twisted into a terrifying snarl. If she weren't tied down, she would have torn his throat out.
Chuck remained calm. "I... that day... didn't know... meaning." He spoke slowly, using hand gestures to bridge the language gap. "Now... I... know." He shrugged. "So. Sorry."
He intended to kill her if he had to, but the feud started because of his mistake. He wanted the apology out of the way. But Valentina's expression didn't soften. If anything, the mockery in her eyes intensified. Her gaze said: So what?
Chuck laughed. He was right. The "Suka Blyat" incident didn't matter anymore. This was about power now. He leaned back, arms crossed.
"Want to live? Fight. Teach me." He mimicked the CQC moves she had used on him earlier.
"Heh—PTUI!" Valentina spat at him.
Chuck dodged, but some spray hit his forehead. He wiped it away, laughing again. He stood up, his muscular body glistening with the sweat of his session with Kaede. He looked down at her sleek, leopard-like body and smiled as he uttered three simple words he knew she would understand.
"I. Fuck. You."