【エロ動画】BROKEN HEART【アダルトAVアニメ・ゲーム】

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BROKEN HEARTの詳細情報まとめ。安全に無料動画視聴！

You must see Tifa (Final F*ntasy VII) in this amazing 3DCG hentai! 

Interfaces and descriptions are in ENGLISH. It is translated by the circle themselves.


The heroine of AVALANCHE cascades in assault pleasure 

when she's captured and taken with vibrator, doggy style, missionary... 

is she even trying to resist against such pleasure!? 


Realistic animation with motion capture technology - first time! 


Of course the movie is Full 3D and Fully Voiced! 


FEATURES 

+ Motion capture / super realistic motion 

+ Real breast dynamics with physics engine 

+ LONG MOVIE! High quality, high volume content

+ Customizable scenes (movie editor) 

+ 30 frames per second 3DCG anime 


(MPEG-1 format) 


* Please confirm system specs with the trial version. 

## Broken Wings

The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the abandoned warehouse, mirroring the relentless pounding in Tifa Lockhart’s chest.  Her breath hitched, not from exertion, but from a suffocating dread that clung to her like the damp air.  The familiar scent of ozone, usually a comfort, now felt like a cruel mockery.  Avalanche, the rebellion she’d dedicated her life to, had failed.  Not with a bang, but a whimper – a betrayal so profound it shattered her world.

She hadn't anticipated this. Cloud, her childhood friend, her… something more, had vanished.  Not in the heroic blaze of glory they’d envisioned, but swallowed whole by Shinra's shadowy machinations.  The others – Barret, Aerith, even the gruff Biggs and Wedge – scattered like dust in the wind.  She was alone, a lone warrior in a war she was losing before it truly began.

The heavy metal door creaked open, revealing two figures silhouetted against the dim light.  They weren’t Shinra soldiers. These were… different.  Their faces were obscured by shadows, their movements unnervingly precise.  One held a sleek, metallic device – the kind that hummed with a silent, predatory energy.

They didn't speak, didn't need to.  Their actions were a brutal symphony of violence and control.  Tifa fought, she clawed, she screamed, the raw, primal sound swallowed by the storm raging outside.  But they were stronger, faster, their movements honed to a terrifying efficiency.  Each blow, each restraint, was calculated to break her, not just physically, but spiritually.

The vibrator, cold and unforgiving, was pressed against her skin.  The initial shock gave way to a wave of searing pain that quickly morphed into something... else.  A twisted, horrifying pleasure that warred with the searing agony.  Her body betrayed her, reacting instinctively, arching against the pulsating metal.  It was a violation, a violation of her body, of her mind, of everything she held sacred.  Yet, a part of her, a fractured, desperate part, clung to this false sense of release.  A desperate attempt to find some solace in the midst of chaos.

The following hours became a blur of forced positions, of brutal intimacy, of a sickening dance between pain and pleasure.  Doggy style, missionary, each position was a tool of their twisted control.  They didn't speak, only occasionally issuing low, guttural commands.  Their eyes, when she could see them, held no malice, only a clinical detachment.  They weren't torturing her for information; they were dissecting her, stripping away her humanity piece by piece.  Their actions were cold, precise, chillingly clinical.  They treated her as a specimen, a subject in a horrifying experiment.

The experience wasn't merely physical.  It was a psychological assault.  It was designed to break her will, to extinguish the ember of defiance that flickered within.  To replace her unwavering resolve with a crippling sense of helplessness.

Days bled into nights.  The rain never stopped.  Tifa’s body ached, her mind fragmented.  The constant violation had warped her perception of reality.  The line between pain and pleasure had blurred, leaving her adrift in a sea of confusion and despair.  She had always believed she was strong.  Avalanche had given her that belief.  But this… this was a different kind of strength, a resilience forged in the crucible of unimaginable trauma.

Eventually, they left.  She didn't know why.  She was left alone in the abandoned warehouse, battered, bruised, and broken.  But she wasn't merely physically broken.  A deeper fracture had split her soul.

She stumbled out into the rain, the storm echoing the tempest raging within.  The rain washed over her, cleansing her body but not her spirit.  She was a shell, stripped bare, but somehow… still alive.  The memory of Cloud, of Avalanche, of everything she had fought for, felt distant and unreal.  It was as if she were observing her own life from a detached perspective.

Looking up at the relentless storm, a single thought pierced through the fog of her trauma: survival.  She would survive.  Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.  Her journey to reclaim herself, to reassemble the shattered pieces of her life, had just begun.  The fight, this new, different, more insidious fight, was far from over.  Her wings were broken, but the spirit to mend them, to soar again, remained stubbornly alive.  The rain continued to fall, washing away the immediate filth, but the scars, both physical and emotional, would remain a permanent reminder of the day Avalanche truly fell.  The day her heart broke.