A/N: Ironically, this specific idea was mentioned to me by two different people at two different times. Guess this scenario just works well with Surtr, perhaps?

Surtr herself has been on my mind for quite some time. I overlooked her somewhat initially, but now that I've seen art of her, I feel the urge to write her more.

Nonetheless, enjoy~

Pride Cometh Before The Fall

Patrol duty wasn't one of Surtr favourite duties, but it was something that needed to be done all the same.

Especially since Reunion had upped their attacks on Lungmen in recent weeks. What started as arson and booby-trapped cars turned into full blown shootings, ambushes and assaults on LGD headquarters, resulting in numerous dead and even more wounded. With the LGD still recovering from the main assault many weeks ago and stretched thin rooting out dissidents, it fell to Rhodes Island to help out.

That was how Surtr found herself wandering the ruined streets of Lungmen, her squad behind her – two Snipers, a Vanguard, a Caster, a Medic and a Specialist Operator. Fairly standard layout and while she wasn't all that focused on the leadership aspect of being a squad leader, she was perfectly content to delegate that authority to Zima, who had a natural talent to that. She preferred getting up close and personal with the enemy and using her blade to decimate their lines, making it easier for her peers to clean up the stragglers.

For better or worse though they'd not seen Reunion thus far. She wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

Huffing Surtr cast her gaze about the ruined street, searching for a hint of movement, but there was nothing. Buildings that used to house jewellery stores or small grocers were in ruins, the exteriors scorched black by fire or marred grey by dust and debris. What little glass that remained in the window frames were naught but small chunks sticking out at odd angles, the occasional crack and clatter echoing across the shattered pavements as the shards shattered upon them.

The street itself was a pain to navigate due to the damage down to the gas pipes; large segments of asphalt jerked up in ragged chunks, not unlike an earthquake had shook the area, making footwork a priority lest she or someone else slip into a gap and get stuck. A problem in and of itself, but a dangerous one when Reunion could be lurking about. Thankfully, her team was skilled enough to avoid making such a rookie mistake.

Still, something didn't feel right. The air was still, the distant smell of burning oil drums and dust was thick in her nose... and the occasional crunch of gravel.

''We've got company.'' Surtr declared, fingers curling around the handle of her sword.

Her instincts proved true not a second later as a glint reflected off of a building further down the street – and Surtr jerked to one side, narrowly avoiding the bullet that shot her way, the round ricocheting off of the asphalt and embedding itself into the wall next to Zima. Though she flinched the de-facto squad leader wasted no time barking out orders, rallying everyone into cover even as two more gun-users popped out of cover down the street, a spray of gunfire spitting their way.

Surtr ducked into cover behind a burnt-out car, waiting – and the moment the gunfire ceased she launched herself out of cover, sprinting towards the enemy. A plan interrupted as the ground under her suddenly wobbled, then lifted, sending the swordswoman stumbling to a stop as the concrete underfoot was levitated upwards and into the open.

''Tch.'' Surtr clicked her tongue, glancing about.

A lamppost provided her an exit strategy and without hesitation she leapt for it, one boot touching the wood as she springboard off of it and through an empty window frame, tumbling to bleed her momentum before coming to a halt. The battle outside didn't cease, however; the distinct pings of crossbow fire from Blue Poison and bolts from Haze affirming that her squad was still counter-attacking.

Trusting her peers to keep them distracted Surtr swung her sword, the wave of heat released enough to melt away the wall in front of her, turning brick into slag. She waited only long enough for a gap to form before leaping through it, her feet carrying her through the neighbouring apartment and then into the next, a hole in the wall only accelerating her approach.

By chance she found a staircase up to the attic. With the roof blown away it opened up to the sky and she gladly took the new route, the pale gloom of the afternoon doing little to blind her as she ascended – one quick sweep locating her opponents, located just a few buildings away. From her elevated position she could spy over a dozen of them; four gun-wielders and two Arts users, with another six infantrymen equipped with a random assortment of blades or blunt weapons guarding them.

Rather unfortunately in the dismal grey environment around them, her red hair stood out like a sore thumb.

A fact proven as a fresh spray of automatic gunfire came her way, inaccurate but annoying nonetheless. Scoffing Surtr ducked out of the first spray, hearing the bullets ricochet off of an old air conditioning unit, before dashing out the moment it stopped – sprinting her way across the row of destroyed houses and shops, closing the distance. The Reunion grunts inside were clearly frightened, their Casters turning her attention onto her too as they lobbed balls of black energy, but she effortlessly dipped or dodged each one, slowing only long enough to slash her blade and send a wave of heat towards them to keep them occupied; forcing them to duck into cover lest their clothes catch fire.

A distraction, but one that allowed her to close the distance – a final leap bringing her down upon her foes. They didn't stand a chance – a single wide slash culling a Caster and a Sniper, the heat generated from her blade enough to burn a Sniper behind the first. She didn't give him the chance to scream as a follow-up slash cut upwards, the deep gouge cut up his chest no doubt fatal.

The grunts behind her had begun to stir, their shock giving way to rage, but they were slow. Too slow. Arrows came from over her shoulder and killed one of the infantrymen and a bolt of black magick felled another, her team coming in handy to mop up the grunts, enabling Surtr to dispatch the other three with ease – blocking a strike from one and melting his sword, allowing her to slash him across the chest, nearly cutting him in two. His two peers were more fearful and failed to take advantage of their friend's demise.

They paid for that – their meagre melee weapons melting under the heat of her blade and falling to her skill. The same could be said for the others.

However while she killed them, she did not kill them all. Looking around Surtr noted she was down one Caster – and soon spotted him running. The building had a slope made of crumpled stone and debris leading into an alleyway. An alleyway that the Caster was currently sprinting down, fleeing for his life.

''Hmph.'' Surtr scoffed, eyes narrowed. ''You won't get away.''

Movement behind her lured her gaze back to Zima, who burst through the ruined doorway leading downstairs. ''Good timing. Tag the bodies, I'll catch the last one.''

''Wait-!'' But Surtr didn't bother to wait and listen to Zima, her eyes narrowed as she gave chase.

If there was one thing Surtr disliked more than plebeians, it was cowards who ran with their tails between their legs.

However for all their cowardice, the Reunion Caster was nothing if not nimble. Granted they had a decent head-start on her but even with her sprinting she was having some difficulty closing the distance – her foe breaking out into streets and dashing through stores before darting into alleyways and the cycle repeated, attempting to lose her in the chaotic mess that downtown Lungmen had become.

Surtr had traversed far worse terrain, however. With a scornful scowl the Sarkaz woman leapt over a toppled-over bin and kicked off of a wall, shaving off a second of time as she broke out into another street. The Reunion grunt didn't break into another alley or building but bemusingly chose to run down the street itself, the ground more level here and allowing for an easier sprint... and left little to hide him as Surtr gave chase, her irritation reaching its peak.

Until the Caster suddenly slowed down and turned to face her, throwing their hands up.

A wall of asphalt rose to intercept her and she scoffed, cutting through it with a swing of her blade. It did, however, force her to slow down lest she run headlong into the melting barrier – slowing to a light jog by the time she leapt through it.

A wise choice, as it turned out; her eyes narrowing as more Reunion grunts came out of mirroring alleyways. Her eyes flitted through the group, analysing them with cold efficiency. No Snipers nor Casters, just some infantrymen and armoured ones. Hardly a fair fight against someone of her calibre, but at least they'd be easier to handle than the skittish Caster, who was more of an annoyance than a true threat.

''Hmph. Is this it?'' Surtr dismissively remarked, letting her gaze wash over the group as they loosely assembled before her, forming a wall between her and her prey – the Caster apparently having tuckered himself out and left kneeling on the asphalt, gasping for air.

The infantrymen jeered at her, some yelling insults in their native tongues whilst others just yelled at her to go away or they'd beat her up – showing a remarkable ignorance, either to her status or the temperature radiating off of her sword. Seeking to prove the latter Surtr huffed, twirling her blade around with one hand before stabbing it down into the asphalt in front of her, a cold glint in her eyes as it sunk in easily – turning the surrounding material into molten slag.

It had the desired effect; the jeers slowed and some seemed almost uneasy. With masks covering their faces it was hard to gauge their feelings exactly, but the hesitation in their posture conveyed it well enough. She doubted she could get them to scatter; idiots like them always charged to their deaths. Maybe if she finished them off quickly enough she could eliminate the Caster before he made more headaches for her and her allies down the line, but given the numbers before her, it'd probably take too long to eliminate them all and the Caster before he ran off.

Surtr clicked her tongue and gripped, pulling her blade...

...only for it to not budge.

Surtr's expression didn't change but she tugged again. Her trusty blade didn't shift, however, only a faint tug felt before whatever was keeping it pinned settled once more. The red-haired Sarkaz dared take her eyes off of her opponents, glancing down to where her blade was stuck into the earth. The material was varying tones of orange and red, not unlike molten magma as it turned the asphalt into slag... but when she pulled, the weight of the material kept it stuck.

And some Reunion grunts noticed. Murmurs broke out and rapidly rose into shouts, some speaking in common-tongue and others in their native ones – but the urgency to their voices conveyed they saw an opening. One that made Surtr clench her teeth, grasping her greatsword with both hands and pulling hard, enough that she could feel the material give way as it hissed upwards-!

And then a thug was upon her.

The distance was too close. Instinct took hold and she raised her arms, relinquishing her blade as she blocked the punch aimed for her face, the knuckle-dusters he wore making the flesh bruise. She didn't yelp, however, her countenance a frigid one as she back-stepped, her eyes flitting right as two armed men came at her with machetes, one yelling as she swung for her. She side-stepped, eyes on the handle as she moved in to try and disarm him, but she made the mistake of ignoring the second man behind him. A small rat of a Zalak, one who she'd overlook as a mere mook had she cared to look.

One that grabbed her right wrist just before she could snatch away his comrade's machete. She flinched; purple eyes darting to him, but he had successfully delayed her.

Someone hit the side of her head and she went down, blacking out for a split-second. She blinked rapidly, startled and stunned, only to look up and see the glint of a blade. Instinct saved her from being impaled through the gut as she rolled out of the way but attempting to stand was a mistake, nausea flaring the second she dared get a knee under herself, sending her onto her side. She gritted her teeth, elbows in the dirty asphalt as she crawled backwards, putting some meagre distance between her and her foes.

Foes who laughed at her.

''Look at the bitch! Came chasin' one of ours down only to scamper back when she gets a taste of 'er own medicine!'' One of the infantrymen mocked, a distinct Victorian accent, though his features were hidden by a Reunion mask. ''Bitch can't even fight without her precious sword. Pathetic!''

Surtr clenched her teeth but abstained from speaking, looking around for a weapon, but came up short. The Reunion grunts were steadily encircling her, though kept their distance for now, presumably in case she had a trick up her sleeve. Smart.

''Hey hey.'' Another with a strong Columbian accent remarked – the one who's weapon she'd tried to grab. ''She's quite the looker ain't she boss?''

His words instantly made her stomach twist into knots; a sudden, almost instinctual pang of anxiety hitting her.

''Yeah, yeah you 's right.'' The largest of the Reunion grunts, clothed from head to toe but with a pair of pair of Kuranta horns poking out from behind his mask. ''Would be a shame to just off her now, dont'cha think?''

Surtr glared bloody murder at him. It didn't dissuade him.

''She probably has back-up, boss.'' The Zalak from before noted, looking around.

The 'boss' did too, but hummed. ''True, but they ain't here yet. So what you guys say we teach this Sarkaz whore a lesson?''

Surtr's cheeks burned and she tried to stand and succeeded – but that provoked them into action. Though they weren't terribly fast she was unarmed and surrounded, her instinct to fight making her hesitate for a split-second – and by the time she swallowed her pride and chose to run, the window had closed; the nearest alley blocked off by two grunts. Still she tried anyway, breaking out into a sprint towards them, her swift footfalls carrying her towards the duo.

She didn't make it before someone grabbed ahold of her jacket. Thinking fast she arched her back and let them pull it off of her, the lack of resistance making the man fall back with a shout, but that accursed Zalak from before was hot on her tail – and damn was he fast, his short height and lithe build lending him well to speed. She glanced right, spotting a hand, and the second the guy tried to grab her she ducked low – narrowly avoiding him by tucking into a roll and leaping out of it, stumbling only momentarily on the rugged ground before making her way towards the two armed infantrymen.

When the road in front of her lurched, forming a solid wall of asphalt.

Instinct made her start to swing – only to remember she wasn't wielding her sword. She barely stopped herself from running full speed into it and instead pushed herself off of it – but then one of the Reunion grunts grabbed ahold of her arm. She lashed out, punching his mask and sending him stumbling back with a curse, his nose no doubt broken, but another man grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her back. Surtr snarled and threw elbows and kicks back but she failed to strike anything.

And then they were upon her. Someone punched her in the gut and knocked the wind out of her, right before someone socked her in the cheek, sending her nearly falling onto her side had the man behind her not been holding her up. As it was she awkwardly stumbled down onto one knee, her cheek numb but rapidly growing sore – only to cry out when someone grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her back to her feet.

''Let's get this dress off.'' A disgustingly-gleeful voice crooned.

Two hands grabbed the front of her dress, pulled – and Surtr's cheeks burned red as her dress was ripped open, the material giving way for his strength. The black bra she wore underneath got plenty of jeers from the men around her and snapped her back into action, an angry, embarrassed growl escaping Surtr as she struggled viciously against them, tugging her arms and kicking one man in the balls, sending him to his knees and allowing her to kick him in the jaw.

It didn't stop them. Like sharks that smelled blood in the water the Reunion grunts came for her with malicious intent. One shoved a dirty bowie knife up her breastbone, a hiss escaping her as it lightly cut her flesh before the blade got under her bra – a single quick tug cutting through the material, spilling apart and leaving her breasts exposed both to the elements, and the thugs.

''Fuck me her tits are big.'' Someone – the Zalak? – breathed, a hand coming up from her left and groping her tit.

Another man felt up her other breast, his fingers dirty and sinking into her flesh uncomfortably. The man from behind let go of the back of her dress but held onto her biceps instead, restraining her movements further as she was fondled by the enemy, her cheeks burning with humiliation as she was turned into their plaything. They didn't even do it with any dignity, either; their wild excitement more like animals in heat than true people. They felt her up like they'd never seen a pair of tits in their life, and the thoughts of what else they might do to her made the foreign anxiety in her grow.

''Shit, need to be quick.'' Someone from behind her muttered. ''If we're doing this we're doing it now.''

The guy restraining her arm moved, but her arms were captured by two grunts on either side of her, their strength modest but not enough for her to simply rip her arms free. Her attention though shifted to one of the Reunion grunts in front of her, the sound of a belt rattling out before they dropped their pants, allowing their erect cock to spring free. One that they stroked eagerly, their mask hiding their face but not their intent.

''Don't you dare.'' Surtr seethed, purple eyes narrowed into a glare.

But disarmed and without her catalyst, she was helpless. And they knew it.

The thug in front of her wasted no time in grabbing her ass, her back arching as she recoiled away from his touch, but there was only so much distance she could put between them. Disgust scrunched her features as he felt up her rear before digging his fingers into her panties, tugging them bit by bit before shoving them down. She opened her legs enough that they got stuck but someone cut through them with a machete, the two halves fluttering to the ground and leaving nothing to hide her womanhood.

Surtr struggled, she struggled hard – but that didn't stop the thug from grabbing her ass and lifting her up, her legs forced on either side of him. His cock pressed against her sex and an acute fear struck her then, feeling his manhood against her privates, grinding and rubbing as the man moaned, the tip soon pressing in-!

And then he was inside of her.

The penetration was sudden and dry, not a speck of lubrication to ease him inside of her. With jaw clenched Surtr withheld her scream – her rage, her humiliation, her pain, all of it contained behind gritted teeth. Not that it did much good hiding it from the men who jeered openly at her, making lewd comments about her body that she would kill them for had she the means, her face hot as she heard them talk about her tits, about her 'fuckable ass', about how she 'needed to be bred like the uptight bitch she was'.

Such words were pushed from her mind, however, as another man got behind her – his cock-head prodding her ass. 'Wait, don't tell me-!'

In he went, his cock-head forcing itself into her asshole dry. This time Surtr couldn't hold back her cry of pain, her expression twisting in agony as both her holes were forcibly filled with cock – her first time roughly stolen on top of that. She didn't much care for the concept of virginity but she most certainly did the pain that accompanied it, her insides sore and aching as the Reunion grunt began thrusting his dick into her, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks as he gleefully fucked her raw.

The man behind her wasted little time using her ass too, his own hands holding her hips briefly before coming up to manhandle her breasts; moaning right into her ear as he violated her. She tried to resist but her arms were still restrained and pain made moving her legs an unwise choice; her anger, disdain and agony all present on her visage as they double-penetrated her out in the street.

''Fuck her pussy feels great.'' The masked Reunion man moaned, releasing her ass momentarily only to bring his hand right back down – spanking a gasp out of Surtr. ''Her pussy is so hot, feels like she's melt my damn dick!''

''Nice tight ass she's got too.'' The thug behind her mocked, tugging on her nipples. ''How's it feel huh? Nice being our little whore huh?''

He gave her right tit a slap before she could even think of answering. ''Speak up then. Where's all that confidence gone huh?''

Surtr just gritted her teeth, not giving the men the pleasure of hearing her speak. That just earned her a number of more spanks, both to her ass and her tit; pain twisting her expression as the thugs rammed up into her holes. The lack of lubrication made every thrust painful, one cock forcing itself into her ass like a jack-hammer with how fast the grunt was working his hips; moans tickling her ear as he clapped her ass. The other man eagerly used her pussy too, moaning like he hadn't gotten his dick wet in years as he shoved himself into her, forcing his cock into her unwilling cunt.

Worse still many of the thugs had whipped their dicks out and were actively jerking off to the sight of her being raped. One guy even stumbled up to her side just to jerk his dick off against her thigh, moaning as he smeared pre-cum across her skin; only turned on by her look of disgust. Stubborn as she was though Surtr didn't stop fighting, but fatigued and restrained it did her little good – if anything it only earned her more scorn.

''Ooh, she's a feisty little bitch ain't she?'' The guy in her ass grunted, licking her nape. ''Fuck, squeezin' me so tight like that...!''

Surtr grimaced, wincing as their cocks stabbed into her abused holes, stretching her out in ways she wasn't familiar with – at best she had only ever fingered herself, so to have something so large insides of her was a sharp difference. Relaxing was nigh-impossible and her tightness only made the men violate her more, their husky moans unignorable and their groping hands ceaseless. Suspended as she was she couldn't even have the dignify to closing her legs to them, held up by the man before her as he pounded her with growing vigour-

''Hah, fuck, here it comes...!''

Surtr felt confusion. Bewilderment. Then realisation followed by horror as the man slammed his cock into her, his body crashing up against hers hard enough to make her gasp – and then with a moan he busted his nut inside of her. Cumming inside of her. Impregnating her. She thrashed in his hold but the men just jeered and held her steady, her kicking legs doing little as the man gladly busted his load inside of her.

Not a second later the other man came in her ass too, a torrent of hotness filling her rear and reaching deep, sending spasms up her spine. Surtr screwed her eyes shut, gasping through gritted teeth as her sore insides were coated with sticky warmth, the sensation uncomfortable to say the least and painful at worst.

''Hng, fuuck~'' The grunt in front of her groaned, his cock sliding out of her at last. ''Sarkaz whores always are the best.''

Surtr resisted the urge to bite back a reply, simply grimacing as the other man pulled out of her ass. This was her chance, their guard was down-!

Alas she didn't have a chance to even formulate a plan before she was dropped. The suddenness of it took Surtr off-guard, leaving her stunned for a dangerous few seconds – and by the time she started to react it was too late as a Minos man got behind her, his large hands pulling her hips up and forcing her to stand, his cock slapping between her ass cheeks. She shuddered, feeling the tip graze down and come to rest against her deflowered entrance.

And then he shoved himself inside. With no grace, no patience and certainly no gentleness the hung Reunion grunt shoved his cock inside of Surtr, forcing a shout of pain out of her as her insides were so unceremoniously stretched open. He was even bigger than the man before her and she could do nothing but hang her head and gasp, one eye screwed shut and her lower half ablaze as the man began pistoning into her cunt, every clap of flesh leaving her cheeks red too.

She was distracted as another guy – the Zalak from before – got in front of her, his dick springing out in front of her. She tried to growl but she didn't have the breath, the sound a feeble wheeze, when without warning he shoved his cock in her mouth. The tip hit the back of her throat and she gagged, jerking back, but the Zalak grabbed her horn and yanked her straight back down onto his cock, making her gag on it.

''Hah, you look good with a dick in your mouth, demon whore.'' The Zalak condescendingly breathed, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her down onto his dick. ''Suck it well and maybe you'll live.''

Surtr glared bloody murder but any counters, any possibility of resisting, melted as the hung Minos slammed into her deflowered pussy – the raw sensation making it impossible to think. Feebly she swatted away at the men around her but two of them grabbed her wrists and guided her hands onto their cocks, moaning shamelessly as they forced her to stroke them off, her fingers trying in vain to recoil away from their dicks. It didn't change much; just having her palm rub against their dicks was enough to get them off it seemed.

Others came up to her side, and a shudder recoiled through her as their lustful hands felt about at her chest, groping and squeezing her hanging tits; one man on her right going further and rubbing his dick against the side of her breast. He jerked off against her tender flesh – when with a sudden moan he came, ropes of hot sticky cum hitting the side of her tit or her ribs, preluding another moan before someone came on her lower back.

'I'll kill them.' Surtr thought, pinprick tears pricking the corner of her eyes even as she stewed in her own fury, the humiliation she felt only fuelling her rage.

Rarely had she contemplated being defeated in battle – but never had she contemplated that her foes would devolve into mere animals, not even granting her a warrior's death, but raping her as if she were mere spoils of war.

Spasms in her throat made her gag harshly, lurching, but the Zalak grunt didn't stop fucking her mouth. Spit smeared liberally across his shaft and over her lips but she didn't suck him off, refusing to give him the gratification of making her submit, but that didn't matter – he still got off with her mouth. His moans climbed and she knew what was coming, her eyes screwing shut-!

And then he pulled out, busting on her face. Ropes of sticky cum splattered over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and in her hair, much of it dribbling down to her chin. She hissed and dared crack open her eyes, glaring murder at the Zalak man, but he just laughed her off. Not a second later she felt a large meaty hand grab her hair and yank her head back – and a fist struck the back of her head.

''Hng-!'' Surtr lurched forth only to be yanked back a split-second later, another punch connecting with her nape.

Restrained as she was she had nowhere to go; left at the mercy of the hung Minos swordsman as he pounded her aching cunt, his tip ramming up against her innermost parts as he donkey-punched her. Some hollered and others complained to not 'break her so soon' but Surtr barely heard them, her mind growing dim as the repeated blows knocked the sense out of her, leaving her groaning in pain from the abuse.

''Hah, shit...!'' The pull on her hair grew. ''Take it you Sarkaz whore!''

Surtr tensed, tightening – and shuddered as a fresh helping of semen erupted inside of her, splattering across her insides and overflowing around the man's cock. She felt some of it trickle down her inner-thighs, the sticky consistency making her squirm to no avail, her struggles growing weak even as several of the men around her came all over her, painting her fair skin white with their cum.

Fatigued Surtr could only shudder as the Reunion soldier pulled out – when someone struck her head, hard.

She blacked out.

One moment she was bent over, the next thing she knew she was staring up at the sky.

Even then it took several seconds for it to truly register in Surtr's mind, confusion a constant until pain between her legs drew her back to reality, looking down her front. Embarrassment was quick to burn her cheeks as she found herself devoid of clothes, her arms apart and legs slightly spread – all four limbs attached to chains that were driven into road spikes, restraining her spread-eagle in the middle of the road.

Voices filtered in as her hearing returned, the numerous voices around her blurring into one until she managed to pick apart their conversations. Mostly about how hot she was but what caught her attention was the masked Reunion solider in front of her. One who suddenly laid himself on top of her, alarm filling her-

''Gh-!'' And then without further ceremony the soldier shoved his dick inside of her.

The mask he wore muffled his moan but didn't hide his glee; every excited breath heard and making Surtr grimace in disgust. She tugged her arms but they were not only bound tight but stretched out, leaving little wiggle room. Her legs were slightly more free but not enough to kick the man off of her, leaving her utterly helpless as the man went to town on her, pounding her with moans abound. It wasn't even with a modicum of grace; his cock slamming into her creampied pussy with squelches highlighting his thrusts, his weight crashing into her with every buck of his hips.

Surtr screwed her eyes shut, hissing as she tipped her head to one side. It was easier to ignore now than before – the sharp stabbing pain now muted and dull, though unfortunately she still felt the dick inside of her as he ruined her, her insides clenching around his intruding girth. If anything that just made the man rape her faster, giving into his most primal instincts as he went to town on her, his fingers digging into her hips as he threw his pelvis forth.

And then he came, forcibly giving Surtr another creampie.

The Operator herself grimaced but said nothing, jaw clenched and ignoring the cum leaking out of her. However mere seconds after the Reunion thug got out of the way another one was ready and between her legs, luring her gaze over... and fury gnawed at her heart as she saw the Reunion grunts lining up to fuck her, stroking their cocks as they waited.

And despite her withering glare, despite her feeble grunts and muttered curses, the Reunion squad ran a train on her.

One, two, six, nine – Surtr quickly lost count of how many creampies she was given, even forcing her to orgasm twice. Some of them held her arms down as they leaned over her, others lifted her waist up as they pumped into her, others grabbed her by the throat and spat in her face – and more than a few liked to hit her, be it slaps to the tit or painful pulls of her horn, anything to get a reaction out of her. It only made the shame worse.

Until after somewhere in the ballpark of fifteen creampies the 'boss' came over and had her untied. Weakened as she was Surtr couldn't take advantage of the miniscule opening, least of all with several guards around waiting to pin her down – and soon enough she found herself flipped over onto her stomach, her face in the rubble-laden road. The reason why became apparent as the boss lowered his pants and got on top of her, his weight smothering her down.

And Surtr groaned in pain as he penetrated her asshole, shoving his dick right in and making sure it went in all the way. The boss didn't give her any chance to adjust to the size of his cock and went about fucking her right away, his groin smacking into her sore ass cheeks as he prone-boned her into the asphalt, his grunts hot against the back of her head.

''Even after getting your back blown out, you're still so friggin' tight.'' The Kuranta grunted, reaching around groping her tit, which was now marred by gravel. ''Hard to find babes like you in Reunion y'know.''

Surtr didn't grace him with a response, only a few errant grunts escaping her pursed lips as she took the ass-pounding. Much as she hated to admit it he was pretty damn big, the stereotype of a Kuranta having a large cock true – a fact she was learning intimately as he pounded her backdoor, her cheeks sore from the repeated impacts against them. After being raped well over a dozen times though Surtr was getting used to blocking it out, her mind heavy as she just took it.

Until soon enough the boss moaned sharply, his cum erupting inside of her ass and sending violent shudders through Surtr. Though it wasn't long before he climbed off, allowing another man to take his place, her body freely used by the enemy squad.

And as her eyes wandered across the ruined road, she spied her sword, still embedded into the ground as it was.

Wondering when this would end.

[END]