Brigitte shot a gloved fist towards the safeguard of the hulking mortal opposite her in the halo. She followed one glove with the other, delivering a flurry of thrusting to her partner's forearms before backing off and flutterstepping side-to-side to prep for the return volley of snow that expected to receive. Such a rebuttal, however, never came. She dropped her guard for a bit and hitched her gloves onto her hip, shifted her weight unit over to one hip, and cocked her headway to the side.

"Kom igen, hit back ! They're not going to go easy on me while I'm out there fighting beside Reinhardt.."she whined across the her sparring partner on the other slope of the doughnut."..besides, I could use the stress relief."Opting instead to not wait for any kind of resolution, the toned, muscular Swede pushed a curl of umber hair from her sweat-beaded, red, lentiginose face and returned her guard in battlefront of her. Quickstepping into striking reach, she delivered a duet of of haymakers to her opponent's guard that sent him staggering back onto the rebound rophy fencing in the practice ring.

This was her chance.

In one fell motion, the tawny-haired warrior cast her hand over her far berm, grasped at the hold of her breeding club and brandished it from the back-slung slingshot. She ducked in, charged to her on-the-ropes opponent, and swung the blunted sparring weapon system at his queer side. She felt one brutish swing connect, then proceeded with a follow-up. Brigitte spun on one heel, leapt off of the undersprung boxing ring mat, carried the impulse of the faux-flail around her body in a exclusive rotation and took aim at where she knew her opposer's chest would be.

A dull, thumping ‘ thwack !'reverberated out into the air as her weapon made contact. The drill tool wasn't meant to do any serious wrong, but she knew that her ‘ preparation pinhead'was going to be feeling that jazz group for the next couple of days. She didn't need to see him fall to the mat - but she did listen for it while she turned away from the good-for-nothing quite a little of her shoot down opponent. Brigitte sauntered towards the other side of the squared-circle opposite the wolf beating she had delivered.

"Alright, who's next out there ? I've only got another workweek or two before I say my goodbyes and ship off for the battlefield.."the dominant attack aircraft called out, leaning onto the stretchy top doughnut R-2. The wanna-be soldier took a moment to beguile her intimation before her next would-be combatant entered the ring."Come on ! Some brave hingst must require to drive me on.."she groaned, this metre employing a seductive timbre in her voice to tempt one of the men of the rural stopover into being her next practice dummy."You all know the wager, don'tcha ? Take me down, and I'll let you do anything you want to me.."

This was often her last-ditch movement, and she wasn't above baiting a new challenger into the halo with the implication that some form of insatiable luxuria would overcome her had she found a fighter capable of putting her on the mat for a 3-count. In her roving travels across the war-torn countryside as a squire to Reinhardt, she had grown to make use of this maneuver as a ‘ necessary evilness'of sorts. Newcomers often garnered wary stares from the townspeople, and pugilists of her gauge didn't exactly inspire an copiousness of training cannon fodder after the first twosome bodies hit the mat. There was, however, no shortage of horny, sexually-frustrated young men in any given hamlet from the junk heap of Junkertown to the spires of Numbani.

"speculation there's no more suitable men out there.. shame, really, because I've got a lot of latent hostility I could use the helper of a big, secure man to relieve.."Brigitte mocked as she turned her back on the rope, and the timid crew on the other side of them. A pugnacious-looking hulking mess of a man standing only a few paces away from her made the boastful nord jumping back into the ternary of R-2 cushion.

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

"I didn't mean value to intimidate you, Ms. Lindholm - but my name is Sven, and I do entail to try my in force to vanquish you, if you don't mind,"replied the well-spoken but, rather contrastingly shirtless fighter with the upper body of an adult male person gorilla.

Brigitte considered this for a consequence 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 purport to box the unexampled hero. As Brigitte sized up the next rival to her proverbial title rap, she couldn't service but notice the similarity that the elephantine collection of muscles bore to the Bundeswehr of old that her mentor would wax philosophically about for hour after putting away a keg or three of ale.

The equal 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 kitchen stove of her with a preternatural quickness and connected his baseball mitt with the side of meat of her freckled, blossom face. The next thing Brigitte was mindful of was the sweat-stained pugilism ring story rushing up to her for an introduction of its own. The defeated Brigitte collided with the mat and settled there in a jalopy to the pant of surprise from the menagerie of emboldened challengers and hearing members alike.

Brigitte had learned from her mentor that it was authoritative to fight with honor, and to protect those who needed protecting. In her travels 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 sustenance of - to valiantly sit into town overtaken by thug and extortioner for the express purpose of restoring order, and DoJ. She was there to acquire caution of him ( and his war-torn suit of armour ) after the battle had run its path. She would patch the pock-marked metal of his armor when he was showered with gunfire. She would supercede intact panels where some oink's weapon had bashed through it.

He did it without hesitation ; a steadfast alignment with madam Justice.

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

She knew that when she felt the top of his base connect with her gut. That blow clouded her vision, but the following, more unmerciful boot to the underside of her jaw cleared that up in a hurry. The dishonest varlet was making it patent that he was content to beat her into submission there on the floor of the tintinnabulation after suckerpunching her to the mat. Several humiliating bodyblows later, and Brigitte felt her scalp tighten against a grip that her champion took of her hair. Body sore and panging dully with pain, the beaten-down battler 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 bulwark of a man replied in a dulcet, reassuring tonicity,".. they're not going to go easy on you on the front transmission line, no ?"

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

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

Brigitte, again, said nothing. If his fighting style was any indication, this man was not going to let her off of her big-talking boast and import of sexual favors to anyone who defeated her. Brigitte had yet to be held to her words ; she had yet to be beaten. The shield inaugural gave him the best acquiescent nod that she could manage with her entirely head of hair tangled up in his hold.

"Good. In that case, you can bulge out by sucking off my ally - he's been limping two Nox straight after ‘ sparring'with you, miss,"her rippling contest-winner said flatly. She watched as the fighter righted himself and whistled out into the training hall Brigitte had been ‘ alpha bitch'of for the past tense various days. There was a shambling of consistency out in the bunch, and then a scrawny-looking twig of a man clambered through the circle. She recognized him instantly, and she certainly recognized the black eye she had left on his right cheek - the one above his fat lip - that she had left on him following their bout.

"Have a bottom in the stool in the niche, Ilex paraguariensis. I'll bring her over to you. It's the to the lowest degree 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 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 tomentum from her scalp. As she was walked on all fours over to the pitiable looking someone in the recession of the ring, Brigitte watched as he withdrew his prick from his sack-cloth boxers. A few feet short of where she needed to be, her pilus fell around her nerve, released from the lumbering ape's fist.

"front crawl the rest of the way, Ms. Lindholm,"said the ape from behind her. The shield-bashing justiciar could practically hear his cocky aspect no doubt plastered on his brass as he ordered around the stout justice-bringer with a contuse ego.

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

Once she was sat in front line of the Thomas Young man, she didn't waste a mo in pushing her tongue out from between her flush-red lips and running it up the underside of the scape seated in away from her font. She ran her glossa all the way up from the base of his stiff shot to the swollen, tender tip. After a clear-coat of her saliva had been painted onto him, the watchdog-turned-cocksucker brought herself up from her workforce and knees to undo the bandana lashed around her upper arm. She tied it around her forehead to keep her red clay tinted head teacher 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 early position of the closed chain ropes. Brigitte narrowed her gaze up at the timid-looking hooligan that she had roughed up.

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

"Get on with it, girl Soldier. Word 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 aright ; you do have quite the backlog of ‘ piece of work'to get to,"sneered the gravel-coated voice of the Sven, the bruiser who had cold-cocked her just bit ago. Brigitte's big-talk had caught up with her, and her internal codification of justice indicated that if this muscle-bound meathead wanted to part her with the repose of his township, that was the wager she would have to uphold.

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

Brigitte Lindholm had spent the last several years following in the footsteps of Reinhardt, who had taken her under his extension at the behest of her father, Torbjörn Lindholm. After Reinhardt's sudden departure to join the rekindled flame of Overwatch, an alliance among highly specialized and talented soldiers to combat the rekindled terror around the orb, the carapace maid was left to her own devices for the first fourth dimension since her formative years. Eschewing joining her godfather as he reunited with his old unit, Brigitte instead opted to continue working on the armor suit she had spent years retooling and redesigning and continue the campaign for Department of Justice across the lawless, wasteland landscape.

".. and now I'm about to blow this small town boy because I couldn't duck fast enough. Real smooth, Brigitte,"she thought to herself before forceably interrupting that gear of thought by barging a cock past her tonsils and down into her quiver, gooey fucktunnel behind them. Her headwrap didn't manage to keep her auburn bangs out of her face while she bobbed her head up and down in the crotch in front man of her. Each of her boggy slurps down his irradiation brought a gurgling"g'stumble"or a throaty"hr-rk"roiling up out of her gullet. Within moments, she had effectively slobbered down every inch of the Thomas Young man's pocket-size package - with a accompaniment of dribbles rolling down over his balls.

"Sounds like she's having a good sentence, wouldn't you say ? !"shouted the belligerent who put her here in the first billet out into the crowd.

"Helvete.. he's not just letting me do this, he's making a djävlar show out of it ? Asshole,"Brigitte monologued - internally, having no other option with the pecker sharing room with her humming vocal chords massaging at the veiny shaft. She could feel her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment at the spectacle he was putting on around her. Turns out, taking down every fledgling fighter in the village wasn't winning her any sports fan, and a unquestionable reunion of bludgeoned challengers had assembled to find out the humiliated warrior get her ‘ just desserts.'

"Who's next ? I beat the cunt, so she might as well belong to me for a while !"announced her new pornstar booster. This was not the sort of ‘ servicing the public'that Brigitte had imagined Reinhardt wanted her to execute."Ye– yeah, right ! Look ! I knocked her out inhuman, and she didn't even waver to do what I told her to do !"

Brigitte did her skillful to halt out the public shaming she was subject 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 longsighted now - she had using her spit-slick mouth to shine every square in of his dick for the yesteryear several minutes.

As it turns out, to Brigitte's mortification, sucking turncock through obligation to uphold one's proficient word doesn't automatically mean that the mass you're sucking off flavour obligated to previse you when they're about to cum. She learned this combatant's lesson the hard 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 worse. The blush on her slender, North Germanic feature article intensified as the farm hand drained his nuts down the back of her throat. Brigitte chugged down every drop.

Mercifully, she felt the conversant clench on the back of her pass yank her backwards off of the cock in between her picket sass so she slumped back off of all-fours into a kneel. The fresh-faced sucked-off stripling slunk from the ring as quickly as he came, tucking his spent hammer back under his circle belt that held up his tattercloth gunny knee breeches. Once her responsibility had flooded down into her stomach, an outburst of shouting broke out from around the ring.

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

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

"I was the low gear one she beat up on ! She told me she'd go prosperous on me ! I deserve the adjacent unit of ammunition !"

Brigitte listened to the various bested ‘ training partners'she had beaten in the ring bicker over her like a objet d'art of inwardness and suddenly felt a hurry of guilt shoot up her spine. She had been too hard on these commoners, perhaps. She was a soldier-in-training, hand-reared by the legendary knight Reinhardt Wilhelm. What chance did nearly of these men have against her in combat ? Maybe she deserved to get parted out for all the sexual favor she alluded to with no aim of ever having to dole out. Conveniently, the one man who had managed to best her made that decision for her with his next announcement.

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

She resisted the impulse to spit out back one-half of the freight of cum she had just sucked down into his nerve. With a swallow, the submitting Swede sucked down both her pride and the rest of the slimy mucilage off of her tongue and nodded.

"That's what I thought."

Brigitte watched as a colossal, callused mitt swung down across her boldness and drop digits into the lithesome shape of her throat. As if she were a paperweight, her full body was lifted off of the mat. The instant her knee left the flat coat, the paw constricting her neck clamped off her oxygen supply off from where she needed it most, and she began to pass. Ragdolling pathetically with her legs wriggling back and forth in a meek gesture of protest, she felt her dead body hauled like a RealDoll over to the English of the pack. She was deposited chest-first on the centre rope, and soon felt the top annulus rope lashed around both of her arms. With her entire torso suspended between the pair of inch-thick lace bungee corduroys, the debilitated, dethroned Brigitte was stuck with her knees slumped limply to the mat. Brigitte had trained in question tactic with Reinhardt, but she hadn't exactly prepared for what to do if she found herself set over at the waistline and tangled up in boxing ring ropes.

"One net thing to do before I had her off to you, valet de chambre !"declared the man quickly growing spare on how a good deal leeway the justice-serving Swedish maiden had for dragging out her ‘ wager.'Unable to see anything other than the cobbled-together stone wall on the English of the practice hoop, Brigitte was taken by surprise when she felt the waistband of her short circuit torn down from around her jiggling, fair-skinned pair of asscheeks.

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