Brigitte shot a gloved fist towards the safeguard of the hulking private opposite her in the ring. She followed one boxing glove with the former, delivering a flurry of thrust to her partner's forearms before backing off and flutterstepping side-to-side to prep for the return volley of snow that expected to meet. Such a rebuttal, however, never came. She dropped her precaution for a import and hitched her baseball glove onto her pelvic girdle, shifted her weight over to one hip, and cocked her nous to the side.

"Kom igen, hit back ! They're not going to go leisurely on me while I'm out there fighting beside Reinhardt.."she whined across the her sparring partner on the former side of the ringing."..besides, I could use the stress relief."Opting instead to not expect for any kind of answer, the toned, muscular yellow turnip pushed a lock of umber hair from her sweat-beaded, reddish, freckled face and returned her precaution in movement of her. Quickstepping into striking mountain chain, she delivered a pair of of haymakers to her opponent's guard that sent him staggering back onto the springed roofy 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 grip of her preparation nine and brandished it from the back-slung triangular bandage. She ducked in, charged to her on-the-ropes adversary, and swung the numb sparring arm at his exposed side. She felt one brutish swing connect, then proceeded with a follow-up. Brigitte spun on one heel, leapt off of the undersprung packing ring mat, carried the impulse of the faux-flail around her body in a single rotation and took aim at where she knew her opponent's chest would be.

A dull, thumping ‘ thwack !'reverberated out into the air as her weapon made striking. The practice tool wasn't meant to do any good impairment, but she knew that her ‘ training dummy'was going to be feeling that jazz group for the next twain of daytime. She didn't need to see him decrease to the mat - but she did listen for it while she turned away from the sorry raft of her defeated opposition. Brigitte sauntered towards the other face of the squared-circle opposite the wildcat beating she had delivered.

"Alright, who's succeeding out there ? I've only got another week or two before I say my cheerio and ship off for the battlefield.."the dominant allele paladin called out, leaning onto the stretchy top anchor ring rope. The wanna-be soldier took a moment to catch her breathing space before her next would-be combatant entered the ring."Come on ! Some brave hingst must want to make me on.."she groaned, this time employing a seductive timber in her representative to lure one of the men of the rural stopover into being her next practice blank shell."You all know the stake, don'tcha ? remove me down, and I'll let you do anything you want to me.."

This was often her last-ditch sweat, and she wasn't above baiting a new contender into the anchor ring with the import that some kind of insatiable lecherousness would overcome her had she found a fighter capable of putting her on the mat for a 3-count. In her nomadic travelling across the war-worn countryside as a squire to Reinhardt, she had grown to make use of this manoeuvre as a ‘ essential iniquity'of variety. Newcomers often garnered wary stares from the townsfolk, and boxer of her caliber didn't exactly inspire an copiousness of training fodder after the initiative couple bodies hit the mat. There was, however, no shortage of horny, sexually-frustrated young men in any given hamlet from the scrapheap of Junkertown to the steeple of Numbani.

"Guess there's no more desirable men out there.. shame, really, because I've got a lot of tautness I could use the help of a big, strong man to relieve.."Brigitte mocked as she turned her back on the ropes, and the cautious crowd on the other incline of them. A pugnacious-looking hulking mass of a man standing only a few gait away from her made the bragging nord jumping back into the triplet of forget me drug impact.

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

"I didn't mean to intimidate you, Ms. Lindholm - but my name is Sven, and I do imply to try my best to outwit you, if you don't head,"replied the well-spoken but, rather contrastingly shirtless fighter with the upper body of an grownup male gorilla.

Brigitte considered this for a moment before inclining her head in acknowledgment of his fighting words. Sparing the remaining pleasantries, she raised up her fist in a bellicose admonition of her intent to box the newest fighter. As Brigitte sized up the following challenger to her proverbial title belt, she couldn't help but notice the similarities that the jumbo collection of muscles 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 ringing of a bell, or the touch of gloves. Instead, it began when the burly challenger darted into orbit of her with a preternatural quickness and connected his glove with the English of her lentiginose, outpouring cheek. The next affair Brigitte was aware of was the sweat-stained boxing ring floor rushing up to her for an presentation of its own. The defeated Brigitte collided with the mat and settled there in a heap to the pant of surprisal from the zoo of cheer competition and hearing members alike.

Brigitte had learned from her mentor that it was crucial to fight back with honor, and to protect those who needed protecting. In her locomotion across the bandit-ridden countryside with Reinhardt Wilhelm, the grizzled knight-errant, she had watched a battle-scarred old man don his suit of armor on a moment's notice - the armor she was charged with the care of - to valiantly cod into townspeople overtaken by thugs and extortionists for the expressage purpose of restoring rescript, and justice. She was there to acquire upkeep of him ( and his war-torn courtship of armor ) after the battle had run its course. She would piece the pock-marked metal of his armor when he was showered with gunfire. She would replace stallion control panel where some oink's weapon system had bashed through it.

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

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

She knew that when she felt the top of his groundwork connect with her gut. That blow clouded her vision, but the next, more merciless squawk to the bottom of her jaw cleared that up in a rushing. The dishonorable rogue was making it apparent that he was content to beat her into submission there on the floor of the ring after suckerpunching her to the mat. Several humiliating bodyblows later, and Brigitte felt her scalp tighten against a bag that her fighter took of her hair. Body sore and panging dully with pain, the beaten-down champion felt herself being lifted off of the mat to go face-to-face with the man who had just thoroughly laid her out.

"A thousand amnesty, Ms. Lindholm - but, as you said,"the cinderblock wall of a man replied in a dulcet, reassuring whole tone,".. they're not going to go prosperous on you on the front lines, no ?"

Brigitte said nothing, opting instead to glare at the man taunting her to her typeface.

"Now, about that stake you have been teasing all of the able-bodied person in the village with for the past several days.. I think this makes me the winner, does it not ?"

Brigitte, again, said cypher. If his fighting manner was any indication, this man was not going to let her off of her big-talking self-praise and conditional relation of sexual party favour to anyone who defeated her. Brigitte had yet to be held to her words ; she had yet to be beaten. The shield maiden gave him the dependable acquiescent nod that she could grapple with her hale head of whisker tangled up in his grasp.

"Good. In that case, you can depart by sucking off my friend - he's been limping two nights straight after ‘ sparring'with you, miss,"her rippling contest-winner said flatly. She watched as the champion righted himself and whistled out into the breeding hall Brigitte had been ‘ alpha bitch'of for the past tense several days. There was a shuffling of bodies out in the bunch, and then a scrawny-looking branchlet of a man clambered through the forget me drug. She recognized him instantly, and she certainly recognized the shiner she had left on his right cheek - the one above his fat lip - that she had left on him following their bout.

"Have a seat in the stool in the turning point, mate. 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 legal injury she had committed in the ring.

Brigitte was first dragged by her tomentum by the commanding grip of her victor, but she managed to scramble up onto her hands and knees before he ended up ripping any of the burnt-orange hair from her scalp. As she was walked on all foursome over to the wretched looking individual in the corner of the ring, Brigitte watched as he withdrew his cock from his sack-cloth shorts. A few animal foot short of where she needed to be, her hair fell around her face, released from the lumbering ape's fist.

"crawling the rest of the way, Ms. Lindholm,"said the ape from behind her. The shield-bashing justiciary could practically see his cocky expression no doubt plastered on his face as he ordered around the stalwart justice-bringer with a bruise ego.

"If Reinhardt could see me now.."she thought, watching the scowling cheek of the plough-pulling pup she had soundly trounced growing closer as she crawled towards him. More press, however, was the pounding 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 husbandman's son by way of that dick being somewhere in the neighbourhood of her tonsils.

Once she was sat in front of the young man, she didn't waste a present moment in pushing her lingua out from between her flush-red lips and running it up the underside of the shaft seated inch away from her face. She ran her clapper all the way up from the fundament of his stiff shaft to the swollen, pinnace tip. After a clear-coat of her spittle had been painted onto him, the watchdog-turned-cocksucker brought herself up from her hands and articulatio genus to untie the bandana lashed around her pep pill arm. She tied it around her forehead to keep her red Lucius DuBignon Clay tinted principal of hair out of her eyes.

"Get on with it, Lindholm ! I'm comin'up there after you're done with him !"a voice called out from somewhere on the former side of the ring roofy. Brigitte narrowed her regard up at the timid-looking yob that she had roughed up.

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

"Get on with it, missy Soldier. Bible has traveled along with you that you're just as good in bed as you are in the fields of combat - and my friend out there is right ; you do suffer quite the backlog of ‘ work'to get to,"sneered the gravel-coated voice of the Sven, the bruiser who had cold-cocked her just consequence ago. Brigitte's big-talk had caught up with her, and her home code of DoJ indicated that if this muscle-bound meathead wanted to share her with the sleep of his township, that was the wager she would bear to uphold.

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

Brigitte Lindholm had spent the last several year following in the footfall of Reinhardt, who had taken her under his annexe at the behest of her forefather, Torbjörn Lindholm. After Reinhardt's sudden difference to connect the rekindled fire of Overwatch, an alliance among highly specialized and talented soldiers to combat the rekindled threats around the world, the shield maiden was left to her own devices for the first metre since her shaping days. Eschewing joining her godfather as he reunited with his former unit, Brigitte instead opted to keep working on the armor courting she had spent geezerhood retooling and redesigning and continue the crusade for justness across the lawless, wasteland landscape.

".. and now I'm about to blow this village boy because I couldn't duck fast enough. Real smooth, Brigitte,"she thought to herself before forceably interrupting that train of thought by barging a pecker past her faucial tonsil and down into her quivering, gooey fucktunnel behind them. Her headwrap didn't manage to sustain her auburn bangs out of her cheek while she bobbed her head up and down in the crotch in front of her. Each of her sloppy slurps down his peter brought a gurgling"g'pitch"or a throaty"hr-rk"roiling up out of her gullet. Within bit, she had effectively slobbered down every inch 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 time, wouldn't you say ? !"shouted the fighter who put her here in the first topographic point out into the crowd.

"Helvete.. he's not just letting me do this, he's making a djävlar show out of it ? arse,"Brigitte monologued - internally, having no other alternative with the cock sharing room with her humming song chords massaging at the veiny calamus. She could feel her impertinence flushing red with embarrassment at the spectacle he was putting on around her. Turns out, taking down every fledgling paladin in the village wasn't winning her any fan, and a regular reunion of bludgeoned challengers had assembled to see the humiliated warrior get her ‘ just desserts.'

"Who's adjacent ? I beat the bitch, so she might as well belong to me for a while !"announced her new pornstar booster. This was not the kind of ‘ servicing the public'that Brigitte had imagined Reinhardt wanted her to perform."Ye– yeah, redress ! calculate ! I knocked her out inhuman, and she didn't even hesitate to do what I told her to do !"

Brigitte did her practiced to block off out the public shaming she was content to and opt, instead, to get this kid off as soon as she could. He couldn't be erstwhile than 19, so the cocksucking warrior princess figured that it couldn't be much longer now - she had using her spit-slick lips to shine every public square in of his cock for the past several minutes.

As it turns out, to Brigitte's mortification, sucking stopcock through debt instrument to uphold one's good word doesn't automatically mean that the people you're sucking off feel obligated to previse you when they're about to cum. She learned this scrapper's lesson the voiceless way - through a cumshot flooding straight down into her belly. Somehow, the fact that she was, in that moment, a public cumdumpster as well made the whole ordeal that much forged. The blush on her slender, nordic features intensified as the farm handwriting drained his nuts down the back of her pharynx. Brigitte chugged down every drop.

Mercifully, she felt the comrade grasp on the back of her headway Yank her backwards off of the cock in between her blanch backtalk 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 burlap breeches. Once her responsibility had flooded down into her stomach, an outburst of shouting broke out from around the ring.

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

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

"I was the 1st one she beat up on ! She told me she'd go easy on me ! I deserve the next round !"

Brigitte listened to the various scoop ‘ training pardner'she had beaten in the ring bicker over her like a piece of music of nub and suddenly felt a rush of guilt shoot up her spine. She had been too operose on these commoners, perhaps. She was a soldier-in-training, hand-reared by the legendary horse Reinhardt Wilhelm. What chance did most of these men have against her in combat ? Maybe she deserved to get parted out for all the intimate party favour she alluded to with no intention of ever having to dole out. Conveniently, the one man who had managed to best her made that conclusion for her with his next announcement.

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

She resisted the urge to spew back half of the load of cum she had just sucked down into his face. With a swallow, the submitting Brassica napus napobrassica sucked down both her superbia and the rest of the ugly gum off of her tongue and nodded.

"That's what I thought."

Brigitte watched as a colossal, callused bridge player swung down across her nerve and dip digits into the supple frame of her throat. As if she were a paperweight, her entire body was lifted off of the mat. The minute her knees left the ground, the hand constricting her cervix clamped off her atomic number 8 provision off from where she needed it most, and she began to choke. Ragdolling pathetically with her legs wriggling back and Forth River in a mild gesture of protest, she felt her body hauled like a RealDoll over to the side of the closed chain. She was deposited chest-first on the midsection rope, and soon felt the top hoop forget me drug lashed around both of her arms. With her entire soundbox suspended between the pair of inch-thick lace bungee cords, the debilitated, dethroned Brigitte was stuck with her knees slumped limply to the mat. Brigitte had trained in question manoeuvre with Reinhardt, but she hadn't exactly prepared for what to do if she found herself bent over at the waist and tangled up in boxing ring ropes.

"One last matter to do before I had her off to you, man !"declared the man quickly growing spare on how much margin the justice-serving Swedish maid had for dragging out her ‘ wager.'Unable to see anything early than the cobbled-together stone wall on the slope of the practice session tintinnabulation, Brigitte was taken by surprisal when she felt the waistband of her short circuit torn down from around her jiggling, fair-skinned distich of asscheeks.

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