Loosely inspired by a prompt I read ages ago.

Mandatory military service. In 2023, it is almost a shock that so many countries across the world still implement this system. Of course, in our world's climate, there's always a war somewhere, and these wars could always be the last ones. We all know that a third world war would spell an end to the human species. Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing - nature deserves a break from our ruinous nature. A sentiment few world leaders would agree with, if any at all.
So, it really is not all that surprising that all over the planet, men and women just turned adults are receiving letters in colorful, thick envelopes. They are called upon to join the army, and serve their country in some way.
This brings us to the island nation of Iospana, one of the younger nations of planet Earth. Once a British Colony, the archipelago fought for its independence along with the rest of the colonized world - and once dictator Erwin Thones had united the islands under his military rule, Iospana prospered. Blessed with oil reserves below its inner seas and mountains rich with Lithium and a gemstone unavailable anywhere else in the world.
With such riches, it should be no surprise that Iospana, while not particularly large in mass, soon became one of the richest nations per capita. The less than five million Iospanan citizens collectively hold more wealth than the Arabic Emirates combined... and accomplished that without implementing slavery and worker abuse. Not every Iospanian is rich - not compared to their own countrymen, at least. Being Iospanian is a comfortable life... unless one was 18 years of age.

Iospana is not a large nation, and Iospana could not protect itself if Russia, China, or some other global military force chose to exploit the country. Given their limited numbers, the country couldn't possibly rely on a voluntary army, no. They needed soldiers. After the Vietnam war, Iospana's leadership, Erwin Thones' son Nathaniel at the helm of it, started a program. They recruited military personnel from all over the world to restructure their own forces. A rigorous training regiment was implemented, and just a few decades later, Iospana's soldiers rank among the most disciplined in the world.
But they never had to fight their own wars. They supported UN endeavors, escorted diplomats and journalists in wartorn regions, but Iospana never had to go to war formally.
There was a reason for that. Iospana knew that an open conflict, no matter how prolific their soldiers were, would turn their lands to ash and rubble. When a Russian KGB instructor joined the project, they soon came up with a new arm of the military:

The Iospana Romantic Intelligence Specialists Force, short IRIS-F, was called into existence. Soon, it was known all over the world. Till the turn of the millennium, this special unit was composed of volunteers. Beautiful and charismatic men and women chosen to represent their country behind closed doors. A land of luxury, of decadence, Iospana knew that to protect their country, they had to do what every other nation did as well: Bribe and manipulate potential threats. And what better way to do that than offer the allures of their own people, their sensual expertise and servitude? IRIS-F agents were courtesans sent to diplomats, businessmen, and anyone powerful enough to change the world. They were sent there to sweeten a deal, to convince them of one that had not yet been signed, or simply to show gratitude for great international relations.
The world knew about IRIS-F, but there was nothing to be done about it. They forbid their diplomats from engaging with these agents, but that was something they could not enforce. Not overseas, not in secret hotels, not in embassies, not on yachts speeding through international waters. IRIS-F agents were the fantasy of every foreign politician.

With the turn of the millennium, a new policy had to be put in place. Too few people volunteered, and the request for their IRIS-F agents grew. The word was out, and Iospana had created a new problem for itself: Now, few diplomats even agreed to deals with them if they did not receive service from such a fresh-faced agent. Dictator Nathaniel Thones did what he thought he had to do: Military service became mandatory for every Iospanian citizen - and for IRIS-F, they got to collect the most beautiful people their nation had to offer.

Another twenty years later, every Iospanian knew how it worked. If one wanted a cushy job in the military, one went to boot camp. They went to the proper army and did their time on the front lines of a foreign conflict. That was a good gig. Being an IRIS-F agent, however, was a terrible fate. Times had changed. Nowadays, news outlets report on the survivors of the program. They came back with severe PTSD, often scarred, many ended their lives shortly after their return. The government tried its best to cover these stories up, silence them - but to the rest of the world, it was abundantly clear that over the decades, IRIS-F had turned into a system sending the young and beautiful to be abused by sadistic fucks that wanted some way to punish this prosperous country, if only in a small way.
If one wanted to avoid being chosen for IRIS-F, it was not all that complicated - one just shouldn't strive to be beautiful. One shouldn't strive for fame of any kind. But the age of social media had begun, and the allures of international fame brought many impressionable men and women to Tiktok, Instagram, and Youtube. Iospana had its own influencers, fashion models... but those people all knew the gamble they were subjecting themselves to. If they got too popular, they'd be chosen for IRIS-F.
It couldn't be that bad, right? Surely, these hushed tales were just some urban myths. IRIS-F was a reputable arm of the military - that's what our heroine convinced herself to believe as she honed the cult of her personality... and then, the letter arrived a month after her 18th birthday. Her parents cried when she read it out loud to them. An IRIS-F agent... after a month of additional training in etiquette, basic combat and certainly not self-defense, she'd receive her assignment.

She'd be sent overseas to convince some sadistic, old fuck to place nice. It seemed distant then. But six weeks later, when news came out that Iospana's most famous singer Terrence Phillips slit his wrists at the age of 19, it all felt a lot more real. Two more weeks until the end of days for her.
That's when she got her note as well. The country she'd be assigned to. Germany. Germany - the country where Terrence had ended his life after abuse at the hands of a pharmaceutical industrialist.

Ten more days, and she'd sit in a military jet speeding her to Berlin Tempelhof Airport. There she'd meet her fate - according to her assignment, she was to serve the CEO of EPL-Pharmaceuticals. By now, not just her parents were crying. Was this the price of fame?

At this time, she couldn't know how lucky she was. That in Berlin, there was no fat, aging slob with bloody knuckles waiting for her. No, quite the opposite. In a penthouse above the dirty streets of Germany's capital sat a beautiful woman barely 25 years old. Delicate fingers were wrapped around a crystal glass - and attentive eyes scanned the Instagram account of the soldier she'd ordered. There was a sly smile on her lips, a tongue flicking against her teeth as she cocked her head to the side.
Next to her sat a tall man in a pitch-black suit, sunglasses hiding his expression.
"Sie ist wunderschön, oder?"
The man simply nodded, utter nonchalance on his face. Yes, the soldier was gorgeous.

"So ein Glück, dass Vorstand Ehrenbaum... verhindert ist."
Once more, the man nodded. Just an hour ago, they had returned from Ehrenbaum's funeral. A gas explosion in his apartment. How tragic. Such a shame. Ordering that hit on him had certainly put a dent in Thalia Ehrenbaum's bank account.

If you did not catch the drift yet - as dark as the setup is, this only serves to underscore how fortunate our heroine truly is - that she's to meet a compassionate, intelligent woman eager to treat her soldier well. She killed her own father to make sure he couldn't harm another soul without a choice - perhaps, this is a ploy to redeem her family name... perhaps, she is simply seeking a submissive, beautiful girl to mold into an enthusiastic toy. With a gentle, guiding hand, plenty of patience... and a handsome stud of a bodyguard perfectly willing to assist her in these matters.

This is not a story about breaking this soldier. It is about liberating her, offering her freedom, sensuality, romance, and incomparable lust.

If the setup excites you, let me know. We can change plenty of details here, so long as the core dynamic remains. I left details about our heroine vague, same with Iospana itself: The country should be located in a place that suits the ethnicity of our heroine. I like using visual references. Skinny-fit women, model types, are a strong preference of mine. I want to write this story from a 3rd-person point of view, and would prefer if you did as well. Tell me about your kinks and limits, and where you'd see this story going.

Kinks. Body worship, public play, an interest in following orders, oral, setting up safewords, voyeurism, asking for consent, outfit play, slow undressing, Collar/leash play, light bondage, oil play, forced orgasm, light choking (blood flow regulation, as it's meant to be, not airflow reduction), cumplay/snowballing, hair pulling, rough sex, slow sex, hydro erotica (sex in a pool), pierced men, CFNF, CMNF, D/s-play