Brigitte shot a gloved fist towards the guard of the hulking mortal opposite her in the ring. She followed one glove with the other, delivering a bustle of thrust to her partner's forearms before backing off and flutterstepping side-to-side to prep for the return volley of blows that expected to receive. Such a rebuttal, however, never came. She dropped her guard for a moment and hitched her boxing glove onto her hips, shifted her free weight over to one hip, and cocked her headway 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 other side of the ring."..besides, I could use the stress relief."Opting instead to not hold off for any kind of solvent, the toned, muscular Swede pushed a lock of umber fuzz from her sweat-beaded, ruddy, freckled face and returned her precaution in front of her. Quickstepping into collide with cooking stove, she delivered a pair of of haymakers to her opposite's guard that sent him staggering back onto the springed ropes 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 handgrip of her training club and brandished it from the back-slung slingshot. She ducked in, charged to her on-the-ropes resister, and swung the blunted sparring weapon at his exposed side. She felt one brutish swing connect, then proceeded with a follow-up. Brigitte spun on one bounder, leapt off of the undersprung boxing ring mat, carried the momentum of the faux-flail around her body in a undivided 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 touch. The practice session tool wasn't meant to do any serious damage, but she knew that her ‘ grooming dummy'was going to be feeling that combo for the next couple of days. She didn't need to see him settle to the mat - but she did take heed for it while she turned away from the sorry ken of her defeated opposite. Brigitte sauntered towards the other English of the squared-circle opposite the wolf whacking she had delivered.

"Alright, who's succeeding out there ? I've only got another week or two before I say my goodbyes and transport off for the battlefield.."the dominant fighter called out, leaning onto the stretchy top ring R-2. The wanna-be soldier took a moment to catch her breath before her next would-be scrapper entered the ring."seminal fluid on ! Some brave hingst must require to get hold of me on.."she groaned, this metre employing a seductive timbre in her vocalization to tempt one of the men of the rural stop into being her next practice dope."You all know the wager, don'tcha ? take away me down, and I'll let you do anything you want to me.."

This was often her last-ditch campaign, and she wasn't above baiting a new challenger into the anchor ring with the deduction that some kind of insatiable luxuria would overwhelm her had she found a fighter capable of putting her on the mat for a 3-count. In her mobile locomotion across the war-torn countryside as a gallant to Reinhardt, she had grown to make use of this manoeuvre as a ‘ necessary wickedness'of kind. newcomer often garnered wary stares from the townsfolk, and pugilists of her calibre didn't exactly inspire an abundance of training fodder after the first couple consistency hit the mat. There was, however, no deficit of horny, sexually-frustrated Young men in any given crossroads from the garbage heap of Junkertown to the steeple of Numbani.

"dead reckoning there's no more suitable men out there.. disgrace, really, because I've got a lot of tension I could use the service of a big, strong man to relieve.."Brigitte mocked as she turned her back on the ropes, and the timid crew on the other side of them. A pugnacious-looking hulking mass of a man standing only a few paces away from her made the braggy nord jump back into the ternary of roofy shock.

"Helvete ! Don't panic attack me like that !"she squeaked as the polite exterior image of ‘ bad viking bitch'faltered for a import.

"I didn't mean value to intimidate you, Ms. Lindholm - but my name is Sven, and I do entail to try my best to scramble you, if you don't judgement,"replied the well-spoken but, rather contrastingly shirtless scrapper with the upper consistence of an adult male Gorilla gorilla.

Brigitte considered this for a moment before inclining her head in acknowledgment of his fight countersign. Sparing the remaining pleasantries, she raised up her fist in a battleful admonition of her aim to box the young fighter. As Brigitte sized up the adjacent competition to her proverbial title belt, she couldn't help but notice the similarities that the giant collection of muscles bore to the Bundeswehr of old that her mentor would wax philosophically about for time of day after putting away a keg or three of ale.

The match began without warning. It started without the ringing of a bell, or the touching of gloves. Instead, it began when the burly challenger darted into range of her with a nonnatural quickness and connected his glove with the side of her freckled, even face. The succeeding thing Brigitte was aware of was the sweat-stained boxing ring floor rushing up to her for an introduction of its own. The defeated Brigitte collided with the mat and settled there in a heap to the pant of surprisal from the menagerie of emboldened contender and audience fellow member alike.

Brigitte had learned from her mentor that it was significant to struggle with honour, 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 causa of armor on a moment's notice - the armor she was charged with the sustainment of - to valiantly ride into town overtaken by thugs and blackmailer for the express intention of restoring purchase order, and Justice. She was there to select care of him ( and his war-torn suit of armour ) after the fight had run its course. She would patch the pock-marked metal of his armour when he was showered with gunfire. She would replace integral panels where some grunt's weapon system had bashed through it.

He did it without hesitation ; a stiff bond with gentlewoman Justice.

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

She knew that when she felt the top of his foot connect with her gut. That blow clouded her visual modality, but the next, Sir Thomas More unmerciful squawk to the bottom of her jaw cleared that up in a hurry. The dishonorable varlet was making it apparent that he was content to quiver her into submission there on the flooring of the doughnut after suckerpunching her to the mat. respective humiliating bodyblows later, and Brigitte felt her scalp tighten against a grip that her wizard took of her hair. Body sore and panging dully with pain in the neck, the beaten-down paladin 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 pardons, Ms. Lindholm - but, as you said,"the cinderblock wall of a man replied in a dulcet, reassuring tonus,".. they're not going to go well-situated on you on the front personal line of credit, no ?"

Brigitte said nothing, opting instead to frown at the man taunting her to her font.

"Now, about that stakes you have been teasing all of the able-bodied individuals in the hamlet with for the past several days.. I think this makes me the winner, 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 logical implication of sexual favors to anyone who defeated her. Brigitte had yet to be held to her row ; she had yet to be beaten. The buckler maiden gave him the best acquiescent nod that she could finagle with her whole head of hair tangled up in his clutch.

"Good. In that case, you can start 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 fighter aircraft righted himself and whistled out into the training entrance hall Brigitte had been ‘ alpha bitch'of for the past several days. There was a shamble of torso out in the crowd, and then a scrawny-looking twig of a man clambered through the rope. She recognized him instantly, and she certainly recognized the shiner she had left on his right-hand boldness - the one above his fat lip - that she had left on him following their bout.

"Have a backside in the fecal matter in the corner, fellow. 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 traveling bag of her victor, but she managed to scramble up onto her custody and articulatio genus before he ended up ripping any of the burnt-orange hairsbreadth from her scalp. As she was walked on all foursome over to the pitiable looking private in the corner of the ring, Brigitte watched as he withdrew his dick from his sack-cloth boxers. A few feet short of where she needed to be, her hair's-breadth fell around her grimace, released from the lumbering ape's fist.

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

"If Reinhardt could see me now.."she thought, watching the scowling face 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 farmer's son by way of that dick being somewhere in the vicinity of her tonsils.

Once she was sat in front of the Thomas Young man, she didn't dissipation a moment in pushing her lingua out from between her flush-red lips and running it up the underside of the shaft seated inches away from her human face. She ran her tongue all the way up from the theme of his stiff shaft to the swollen, tender tip. After a clear-coat of her spittle had been painted onto him, the watchdog-turned-cocksucker brought herself up from her bridge player and human knee to loosen the bandana lashed around her speed arm. She tied it around her os frontale to keep back her red Clay tinted head of hair out of her eyes.

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

"You had unspoilt 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 was cut curt by a baseball glove-sized deal smack down onto her unarmored keister end.

"Get on with it, Miss Soldier. Word has traveled along with you that you're just as in force in bed as you are in the fields of combat - and my friend out there is aright ; you do have quite the backlog of ‘ oeuvre'to get to,"sneered the gravel-coated voice of the Sven, the Samson who had cold-cocked her just moments ago. Brigitte's big-talk had caught up with her, and her internal code of justice indicated that if this muscle-bound meathead wanted to share her with the rest of his town, that was the wager she would have to uphold.

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

Brigitte Lindholm had spent the last several years following in the footfall of Reinhardt, who had taken her under his fender at the behest of her sire, Torbjörn Lindholm. After Reinhardt's sudden departure to conjoin the rekindled flame of Overwatch, an alinement among highly specialized and talented soldiers to combat the rekindled threats around the globe, the carapace maiden 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 armour suit she had spent twelvemonth retooling and redesigning and keep the Crusade for Department of Justice across the lawless, waste landscape.

".. and now I'm about to blow this village boy because I couldn't duck fast enough. Real legato, Brigitte,"she thought to herself before forceably interrupting that train of thought by barging a rooster past her tonsils and down into her shaking, gooey fucktunnel behind them. Her headwrap didn't manage to keep her auburn bangs out of her face while she bobbed her oral sex up and down in the genitals in social movement of her. Each of her sloppy slurps down his shaft brought a gurgling"g'lurch"or a throaty"hr-rk"roiling up out of her esophagus. Within moments, she had effectively slobbered down every column inch of the young man's modest package - with a complement of drip rolling down over his balls.

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

"Helvete.. he's not just letting me do this, he's making a djävlar display out of it ? dickhead,"Brigitte monologued - internally, having no other option with the cock sharing elbow room with her humming vocal chords massaging at the veiny scape. She could sense her nerve flushing red with embarrassment at the spectacle he was putting on around her. Turns out, taking down every newcomer fighter in the village wasn't winning her any devotee, and a veritable reunion of bludgeoned competitor had assembled to learn the humiliated warrior get her ‘ just desserts.'

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

Brigitte did her best to block 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 older than 19, so the cocksucking warrior princess figured that it couldn't be much longer now - she had using her spit-slick sass to shine every lame in of his dick for the past tense several minutes.

As it turns out, to Brigitte's mortification, sucking dick through certificate of indebtedness to continue one's good word doesn't automatically mean that the people you're sucking off smell obligated to forewarn you when they're about to cum. She learned this fighter aircraft'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 unit trial by ordeal that practically worse. The bloom on her slender, nordic features intensified as the farm hired hand drained his nuts down the back of her pharynx. Brigitte chugged down every drop.

Mercifully, she felt the fellow hold on the back of her head yank her backwards off of the cock in between her pale lips so she slumped back off of all-fours into a kneel. The fresh-faced sucked-off teen slunk from the ring as quickly as he came, tucking his spent rooster back under his rophy belt that held up his tattercloth gunny 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 first one she beat up on ! She told me she'd go easy on me ! I deserve the next daily round !"

Brigitte listened to the various bested ‘ training partners'she had beaten in the ring bicker over her like a bit of inwardness and suddenly felt a hurry of guilt trip shoot up her spine. She had been too grueling on these commoner, perhaps. She was a soldier-in-training, hand-reared by the legendary horse Reinhardt Wilhelm. What probability did most of these men have against her in fighting ? Maybe she deserved to get parted out for all the sexual favour she alluded to with no intent of ever having to dole out. Conveniently, the one man who had managed to best her made that decision for her with his succeeding announcement.

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

She resisted the urge to spit back one-half of the load of cum she had just sucked down into his side. With a swallow, the submitting swede sucked down both her pride and the ease of the despicable gum off of her clapper and nodded.

"That's what I thought."

Brigitte watched as a colossal, callused hand swung down across her face and sunk digits into the slender flesh of her throat. As if she were a paperweight, her entire body was lifted off of the mat. The twinkling her knees left the priming, the hand constricting her neck clamped off her oxygen supply off from where she needed it most, and she began to snuff it. Ragdolling pathetically with her ramification wriggling back and forth in a meek gesture of protest, she felt her body hauled like a RealDoll over to the English of the ring. She was deposited chest-first on the midriff rope, and soon felt the top ring rope lashed around both of her arms. With her entire body suspended between the span of inch-thick pleach bungee cord electric cord, the debilitated, dethroned Brigitte was stuck with her genu 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 over at the waist and tangled up in boxing ring ropes.

"One in conclusion thing to do before I had her off to you, valet !"declared the man quickly growing spare on how much tolerance the justice-serving Swedish maiden had for dragging out her ‘ wager.'Unable to see anything early than the cobbled-together stone wall on the position of the practice ring, Brigitte was taken by surprise when she felt the cincture of her underdrawers torn down from around her jiggling, fair-skinned pair of asscheeks.

"naked as a jaybird and tied up. What if dada finds out about this.."Brigitte scolded herself, lamenting how she let things go this far .