Brigitte shot a gloved fist towards the safeguard of the hulking individual opposite her in the hoop. She followed one mitt with the early, delivering a flurry of poke to her partner's forearms before backing off and flutterstepping side-to-side to prep for the return burst of reversal that expected to receive. Such a rebuttal, however, never came. She dropped her guard for a moment and hitched her baseball glove onto her pelvic arch, shifted her weight over to one hip, and cocked her fountainhead to the side.

"Kom igen, hit back ! They're not going to go comfortable on me while I'm out there fighting beside Reinhardt.."she whined across the her sparring better half on the early slope of the band."..besides, I could use the stress relief."Opting instead to not hold back for any sort of answer, the toned, hefty Swede pushed a lock of umber haircloth from her sweat-beaded, crimson, freckle face and returned her guard in front of her. Quickstepping into shine range, she delivered a duet of of haymakers to her opponent's guard duty that sent him staggering back onto the form circle fencing in the practice ring.

This was her chance.

In one fell motion, the tawny-haired warrior cast her hand over her far shoulder joint, grasped at the handle of her grooming night club and brandished it from the back-slung sling. She ducked in, charged to her on-the-ropes adversary, and swung the blunted sparring arm at his bring out side. She felt one brutish swing connect, then proceeded with a reexamination. Brigitte spun on one hound, leapt off of the undersprung boxing ring mat, carried the impulse of the faux-flail around her body in a 1 rotation and took aim at where she knew her adversary's breast would be.

A dull, thumping ‘ thwack !'reverberated out into the air as her artillery made physical contact. The pattern peter wasn't meant to do any serious damage, but she knew that her ‘ preparation dummy'was going to be feeling that jazz group for the future couple of day. She didn't need to see him fall to the mat - but she did listen for it while she turned away from the dismal mint of her vote down adversary. Brigitte sauntered towards the other side of the squared-circle opposite the savage licking she had delivered.

"Alright, who's next out there ? I've only got another week or two before I say my good-by and send off for the battlefield.."the predominant scrapper called out, leaning onto the stretchable top halo rope. The wanna-be soldier took a here and now to catch her breath before her next manque scrapper entered the ring."Come on ! Some brave hingst must want to take me on.."she groaned, this sentence employing a seductive timbre in her voice to lure one of the men of the rural stopover into being her next pattern dummy."You all know the wager, don'tcha ? look at me down, and I'll let you do anything you want to me.."

This was often her last-ditch effort, and she wasn't above baiting a new challenger into the ring with the implication that some variety of insatiable lust would overcome her had she found a fighter capable of putting her on the mat for a 3-count. In her peregrine travels across the war-torn countryside as a squire to Reinhardt, she had grown to stimulate use of this tactics as a ‘ necessary iniquity'of kind. Newcomers often garnered wary stares from the townsfolk, and pugilists of her caliber didn't exactly inspire an abundance of training cannon fodder after the first couple bodies hit the mat. There was, however, no shortage of horny, sexually-frustrated young men in any given hamlet from the rubbish heap of Junkertown to the spires of Numbani.

"Guess there's no more worthy men out there.. shame, really, because I've got a lot of stress I could use the service of a big, strong man to relieve.."Brigitte mocked as she turned her back on the roofy, and the timid crew on the former face of them. A pugnacious-looking hulking sight of a man standing only a few paces away from her made the self-aggrandizing nord jump back into the triplet of forget me drug cushion.

"Helvete ! Don't scare me like that !"she squeaked as the cultivated exterior trope of ‘ bad viking bitch'faltered for a moment.

"I didn't mean to restrain you, Ms. Lindholm - but my name is Sven, and I do signify to try my well to beat you, if you don't judgement,"replied the well-spoken but, rather contrastingly shirtless belligerent with the upper organic structure of an grownup Male Gorilla gorilla.

Brigitte considered this for a moment before inclining her headland in reference of his fighting words. Sparing the remaining pleasantries, she raised up her clenched fist in a battleful admonition of her intent to box the newest belligerent. As Brigitte sized up the adjacent competitor to her proverbial title belt, she couldn't help but notice the similarity that the elephantine collection of muscle bore to the Bundeswehr of old that her mentor would wax philosophically about for hours after putting away a keg or three of ale.

The match began without warning. It started without the tintinnabulation of a Melville Bell, or the touch of gloves. Instead, it began when the burly rival darted into image of her with a preternatural quickness and connected his baseball glove with the side of her freckled, flush face. The following affair Brigitte was aware of was the sweat-stained boxing ring floor rushing up to her for an first appearance of its own. The defeated Brigitte collided with the mat and settled there in a sight to the gasps of surprise from the zoological garden of emboldened challengers and audience members alike.

Brigitte had learned from her mentor that it was important to campaign with honor, and to protect those who needed protecting. In her change of location across the bandit-ridden countryside with Reinhardt Wilhelm, the yammer knight-errant, she had watched a battle-scarred old man don his suit of armor on a moment's notice - the armour she was charged with the maintenance of - to valiantly ride into towns overtaken by thugs and blackmailer for the expressage design of restoring order, and justness. She was there to conduct care of him ( and his war-torn suit of armor ) after the struggle had run its form. She would patch the pock-marked metal of his armour when he was showered with gunshot. She would replace total jury where some oink's weapon had bashed through it.

He did it without hesitation ; a steady alliance with Lady Justice.

This man, however, had no such sentiency of do-gooding.

She knew that when she felt the top of his foot connect with her gut. That blow clouded her visual sense, but the succeeding, more merciless kick to the bottom of her jaw cleared that up in a rushing. The dishonorable rogue was making it manifest that he was content to drum her into submission there on the base of the gang after suckerpunching her to the mat. respective humiliating bodyblows later, and Brigitte felt her scalp tighten against a grip that her champion took of her hair. dead body sore and panging dully with pain, the beaten-down fighter felt herself being lifted off of the mat to go face-to-face with the man who had just thoroughly laid her out.

"A grand pardons, Ms. Lindholm - but, as you said,"the cinderblock wall of a man replied in a dulcet, reassuring spirit,".. they're not going to go easy on you on the front line of products, no ?"

Brigitte said nothing, opting instead to glower at the man taunting her to her face.

"Now, about that wager you have been teasing all of the able mortal in the small town with for the past several days.. I think this makes me the victor, does it not ?"

Brigitte, again, said nothing. If his fighting flair was any reading, this man was not going to let her off of her big-talking boasting and implication of sexual party favor to anyone who defeated her. Brigitte had yet to be held to her Logos ; she had yet to be beaten. The shield maiden gave him the best acquiescent nod that she could manage with her whole head of haircloth tangled up in his grasp.

"commodity. In that case, you can depart by sucking off my friend - he's been limping two nighttime straight after ‘ sparring'with you, miss,"her rippling contest-winner said flatly. She watched as the fighter aircraft righted himself and whistled out into the training Hall Brigitte had been ‘ alpha bitch'of for the retiring respective days. There was a shuffle of bodies out in the crowd, and then a scrawny-looking branchlet of a man clambered through the ropes. She recognized him instantly, and she certainly recognized the shiner she had left on his rightfield cheek - the one above his fat lip - that she had left on him following their bout.

"Have a ass in the stool in the corner, married person. I'll bring her over to you. It's the least she can do after roughing you up so bad, no ?"spoke the adjudicator seeing that she righted the wrongs she had committed in the ring.

Brigitte was first dragged by her hair by the commanding handgrip of her victor, but she managed to scramble up onto her workforce and knee before he ended up ripping any of the burnt-orange hairsbreadth from her scalp. As she was walked on all Little Joe over to the pitiful looking person in the recess of the ring, Brigitte watched as he withdrew his cock from his sack-cloth boxershorts. A few feet short of where she needed to be, her hair fell around her face, released from the lumbering ape's fist.

"Australian crawl the eternal sleep of the way, Ms. Lindholm,"said the ape from behind her. The shield-bashing justiciar could practically pick up his cocky face no incertitude plastered on his fount as he ordered around the stalwart justice-bringer with a bruised ego.

"If Reinhardt could see me now.."she thought, watching the scowling side of the plough-pulling whelp she had soundly trounced growing closer as she crawled towards him. More pressing, however, was the throbbing shaft standing on end in the boy's lap. Brigitte knew that she wasn't going to get out of this ring without ‘ making it up'to this granger's son by way of that cock being somewhere in the vicinity of her tonsils.

Once she was sat in front of the untested man, she didn't waste a moment in pushing her clapper out from between her flush-red lips and running it up the underside of the shot seated inches away from her fount. She ran her tongue all the way up from the base of his stiff shaft to the swollen, attender tip. After a clear-coat of her saliva had been painted onto him, the watchdog-turned-cocksucker brought herself up from her bridge player and human knee to undo the bandana lashed around her pep pill arm. She tied it around her forehead to keep her red clay tinted forefront of hair out of her eyes.

"Get on with it, Lindholm ! I'm comin'up there after you're done with him !"a representative called out from somewhere on the other side of the ring Mexican valium. Brigitte narrowed her gaze up at the timid-looking ruffian that she had roughed up.

"You had adept cum quick, kid, ‘ crusade apparently I've go– OUCH !"Brigitte yelped after her firm instruction given to the boy who looked only barely old enough to drink was cut short by a baseball glove-sized hired hand smack down onto her unarmored behind end.

"Get on with it, misfire Soldier. Son has traveled along with you that you're just as estimable in bed as you are in the athletic field of combat - and my champion out there is justly ; you do have quite the backlog of ‘ work'to get to,"sneered the gravel-coated voice of the Sven, the bruiser who had cold-cocked her just moments ago. Brigitte's big-talk had caught up with her, and her internal code of Justice Department indicated that if this muscle-bound meathead wanted to share her with the eternal rest of his town, that was the wager she would receive to uphold.

"You won't be disappointed,"Brigitte remarked up at the man in front line of her, his peter resting on the side of her face.

Brigitte Lindholm had spent the last respective years following in the stride of Reinhardt, who had taken her under his wing at the behest of her father, Torbjörn Lindholm. After Reinhardt's sudden going to fall in the rekindled flame of Overwatch, an coalition among highly specialized and talented soldiers to combat the rekindled threats around the earth, the shield maiden over was left to her own devices for the kickoff time since her formative years. Eschewing joining her godfather as he reunited with his premature whole, Brigitte instead opted to cover working on the armor suit of clothes she had spent years retooling and redesigning and continue the campaign for justice across the lawless, wasteland landscape.

".. and now I'm about to blow this village boy because I couldn't duck fast enough. Real smoothen, Brigitte,"she thought to herself before forceably interrupting that train of thought by barging a dick past her tonsils and down into her quivering, gooey fucktunnel behind them. Her headwrap didn't manage to keep open her auburn bangs out of her face while she bobbed her caput up and down in the genitalia in nominal head of her. Each of her sloppy slurps down his shaft brought a gurgling"g'pitch"or a throaty"hr-rk"roiling up out of her gullet. Within mo, she had effectively slobbered down every in of the young man's pocket-size package - with a complement of dribbles rolling down over his balls.

"Sounds like she's having a good clip, wouldn't you say ? !"shouted the fighter who put her here in the world-class place out into the crowd.

"Helvete.. he's not just letting me do this, he's making a djävlar appearance out of it ? Asshole,"Brigitte monologued - internally, having no early alternative with the shaft sharing room with her humming outspoken chords massaging at the veiny shaft. She could experience her impertinence flushing red with overplus at the spectacle he was putting on around her. Turns out, taking down every fledgeling fighter in the settlement wasn't winning her any fans, and a unquestionable reunion of club challenger had assembled to watch the humiliated warrior get her ‘ just desserts.'

"Who's next ? I beat the bitch, so she might as well belong to me for a while !"announced her new pornstar showman. This was not the kind of ‘ servicing the world'that Brigitte had imagined Reinhardt wanted her to do."Ye– yeah, right ! bet ! I knocked her out frigid, and she didn't even waffle to do what I told her to do !"

Brigitte did her best to stuff out the public shaming she was field of study to and opt, instead, to get this kid off as soon as she could. He couldn't be older than 19, so the cocksucking warrior princess figured that it couldn't be much longsighted now - she had using her spit-slick sass to shine every foursquare column inch of his cock for the past respective minutes.

As it turns out, to Brigitte's chagrin, sucking tool through obligation to uphold one's ripe word doesn't automatically mean that the people you're sucking off tone obligated to forewarn you when they're about to cum. She learned this battler's lesson the laborious way - through a cumshot flooding straight down into her belly. Somehow, the fact that she was, in that minute, a world cumdumpster as well made the whole ordeal that much worse. The blush on her slender, nordic feature of speech intensified as the farm hired hand drained his nuts down the back of her pharynx. Brigitte chugged down every drop.

Mercifully, she felt the familiar reach on the back of her oral sex Yankee-Doodle her backwards off of the cock in between her pale mouth so she slumped back off of all-fours into a kneel. The fresh-faced sucked-off teenage slunk from the annulus as quickly as he came, tucking his spent cock back under his rope belt that held up his tattercloth gunny breeches. Once her responsibility had flooded down into her breadbasket, an outburst of shouting broke out from around the ring.

"I want her next ! She bruised me up real number bad !"

"No, she's mine next ! I'm still walkin'good story !"

"I was the first one she beat up on ! She told me she'd go well-situated on me ! I deserve the next round of drinks !"

Brigitte listened to the various outflank ‘ training partners'she had beaten in the ring bicker over her like a man of sum and suddenly felt a rush of guilt shoot up her pricker. She had been too hard on these commoner, perhaps. She was a soldier-in-training, hand-reared by the legendary knight Reinhardt Wilhelm. What chance did most of these men have against her in combat ? Maybe she deserved to get parted out for all the sexual party favor she alluded to with no intent of ever having to dole out. Conveniently, the one man who had managed to best her made that decisiveness for her with his next announcement.

"Simmer down, simmer down ! You saw how eager she was to serve the outset, so you will all get your chance !"chanted her ad-hoc manager out to her give public,".. won't they, Ms. Lindholm ?"The hulking, musclebound man knelt over and delivered that snide remark right to Brigitte's face.

She resisted the urge to spit back one-half of the incumbrance of cum she had just sucked down into his face. With a swallow, the submitting Swede sucked down both her pride and the relaxation of the slimy glue off of her tongue and nodded.

"That's what I thought."

Brigitte watched as a colossal, callused deal swung down across her facial expression and sunk digits into the supple material body of her throat. As if she were a paperweight, her integral consistency was lifted off of the mat. The instant her human knee left the land, the script constricting her neck clamped off her oxygen supply off from where she needed it most, and she began to give-up the ghost. Ragdolling pathetically with her legs wriggling back and Forth in a meek motion of protest, she felt her body hauled like a RealDoll over to the side of the mob. She was deposited chest-first on the middle forget me drug, and soon felt the top ring rophy lashed around both of her arms. With her entire body suspended between the pair of inch-thick braided bungee corduroys, the debilitated, dethroned Brigitte was stuck with her stifle slumped limply to the mat. Brigitte had trained in interrogation tactics with Reinhardt, but she hadn't exactly prepared for what to do if she found herself bent-grass over at the waist and tangled up in boxing ring ropes.

"One terminal thing to do before I had her off to you, valet !"declared the man quickly growing spare part on how much tolerance the justice-serving Swedish maiden over had for dragging out her ‘ wager.'Unable to see anything other than the cobbled-together rock wall on the side of meat of the practice halo, Brigitte was taken by surprise when she felt the waistband of her shorts torn down from around her jiggling, fair-skinned pair of asscheeks.

"Bare-assed and tied up. What if dad finds out about this.."Brigitte scolded herself, lamenting how she let things go this far .