"Form an orderly queue! She's not going anywhere until you've each had a go!" Clanged the announcement that Brigitte's one-stop-shop spread legs were open for business. At that, a scuffle erupted behind her. Helpless to whatever outcome with her body caught up in the ropes and her pasty, nordic white girl booty on offer, Brigitte Lindholm could do nothing but hang there and listen. Pushing and shoving, growling and snarling, and fervent bickering was all Brigitte could use to gauge just how fucked she was - naturally, in more ways than one.
From behind her, she could hear numerous bodies sliding their way into the practice ring-turned-venue for Brigitte's publicly humiliating comeuppance. Sounds of animalistic grunts flooded the cramped space as an innumerable amount of village men lining up to have their recompense tousled over the order of the queue. Brigitte began flipping back through the rolodex of her memory to try and tally up the number of limps, bruises, and bloody noses she had caused over the past week. In an attempt to use her engineer's mathematical brain in a way she never expected to, Brigitte tried to estimate how long it would take her to fuck her way back into good standing in the eyes of the people of this rural hamlet, and of lady Justice.
Unsurprisingly, the prospect of getting their cocks wet inspired a positively democratic formation of a 'hierarchy of cumdumping,' of sorts, after the initial kerfuffles were sorted. As she hung there on the ring ropes, Brigitte started to consider the implications on world peace and prosperity that this brought. Unable to do much besides bounce on her restraints, the wily nord opted to try and diffuse the situation with her words, rather than her fists - or, hopefully, her ass.
"Look, I single-handedly overthrew the raiding party that had taken over your village! I know that I wasn't being a particularly good 'shield,' when I was using you all as punching bags, but be reasonable!" blurted the exasperated and defenseless Brigitte.
There was a pregnant pause in the room, and the idle footfalls pushing down on the springy training ring floor ceased. Brigitte darted her eyes side to side, unable to see anything going on behind her, but thought for a moment that maybe, somehow, the men would see reason. It's not like she wouldn't honor her promise - she had given her word, after all - just perhaps not all at once here in the ring?
"Look at that! The carpet does match the drapes!" exclaimed a voice who Brigitte presumed to belong to the first swinging dick up to bat and who was standing in between her spread legs. The comment that the furry patch of hair above her pussy was, in fact, red to match her hair's hue drew out a raucous chorus of hearty laughter that shot through the shoulder-rubbing occupants of the ring.
"Fan.." Brigitte swore under her breath. Her Swedish swears tended to slip out in the most trying of times, much to the disappointment of her pappa, Torbjorn Lindholm. Diplomacy dashed, she knew that there was little she could do to prevent what would come next.
The pre-cum dripping head of a cock probed at her groomed entrance, stroking up and down before settling up, aligned with the quivering lovetunnel that its owner was owed. His thrust forward made Brigitte's bound body bounce forward and then rebound backward into him. She groaned out as his cock sunk its way up into her guts and settle into a steady 'clap, clap, clap' rhythm. She clenched her fists, trying to keep ahold of herself - if she lost her composure and devolved into a gasping, moaning mess in front of all of these people on the first dick, how would that affect her image? Her bottom lip was the hardest button to button. She kept it in check with her top teeth, but that restrained portion of an expression of ecstasy just gave lift to her eyebrows and fluttered her eyelids. A blush on her ruddy, angular nordic cheeks made them flush to an even warmer shade of copper, and each fleshy smack of whomever pounding away at her pussy brought a restrained 'mm-ph!' from out of Brigitte's clenched teeth.
She had to hold herself together. She owed these men a round with her - even if she had complaints with how she was being made to give it to them - but she didn't need to debase herself into an expletive-spewing, moan-shrieking, cock-crazed whore. She was a warrior, hand-reared by Reinhardt Wilhelm and the daughter to Overwatch veteran Torbjorn Lindholm. In a month's time, she would be on the front lines with her mentor and her father, battling back the force that sought to plunge the world into chaos. She did not need any kind of press about her getting a train run on her, for one, and that would only be made worse if the front-page headline was her mouth open, tongue out, ahegao expression. Thankfully for her, it was unlikely that any of these backcountry bumpkin types had a functional connection to the internet.
"Alright, I'mma tag out here," grunted the man ploughing her, "I don't 'wanna cum too soon - I'd rather savor her like she savored her fist.. in.. my fa- you know what I mean. Next!" With about as much grace as Brigitte had when she sent him back to his wife with a fat lip, the older gentleman yanked his cock out of her gaping snatch. Within seconds, dripping hole left was filled (and then some) by another cock. The second one slid in between her lips as casually as the first, as if Brigitte was expected to save their town and serve as the equivalent of a demo model for the pocket pussies for sale at the county sex shop.
"Afternoon, missy. Unlike that last guy, I'm planning on being the first one to pump a load into you." At least he was straightforward about it, the vigilante-turned-fleshlight acknowledged with a roll of her eyes. As far as she could tell, this second guy liked seeing her squat-sculpted rump jiggle when he applied the flat of his hand to it in an open-handed smack, because he did it over, and over again. Spank after spank, the bratty swede felt her doughy buns grow increasingly intense shades of pink. Every time he plunged his cock down into her cunt, he would clap a hand down onto her bubble-butt. Anticipating each strike, Brigitte would brace herself as to not give him much satisfaction beyond a mousy squeak of discomfort.
"Not even pappa would spank me this hard.." Brigitte whined in her own inner child's voice. In fairness, pappa also didn't give her a punishment-fueled dicking whenever she overpromised and underdelivered.
"Can you- mmph! Can you, like, finish up?" complained the bungee cord bound Brigitte as she springed out over the edge of the ring only to be elastically reined back over the side and, consequently, slamming onto the base of the ram rod having a round in her quivering, fucked-raw pussy.
"Pipe down, Over-skank! I'll be done with you when I'm d- uhh.. oh, fuck.." moaned the anonymous pipelayer hollowing out her tunnel. Without any more warning than that, Brigitte felt the first sticky tide of stringy gel slosh down into her pussy. The warmth flowed down inside of her, splattering the walls of her cum-spackled pussy in fresh plaster. Brigitte felt the verile batch of spunk fill her up while the man delivering his DNA stamped his foot and spasmodically thrust another couple of times to make sure not a drop missed its mark.
"Fuck, that's it.." groaned the man as his cum-spasms slowed to a halt. "Hey, make sure I'm not the only one that cums in this hussy so when she gets pregnant I'm not on the hook." A chorus of acknowledging grunts rippled through however many dozens of men Brigitte had in the waiting line for their turn with her. With his parentage concerns alleviated, and the woman he may have just knocked up forced to face a brick wall and continue taking oodles of random cumshots into her fertile babyroom, he unceremoniously jerked his cock out of her oozing snatch and stepped out of the way.
Brigitte's humiliating bound gangbang continued on into the late afternoon much in the same way. Cock after cock would replace each other. Some would deposit a fresh batch of steaming spunk into her womb, and some wouldn't, but after the baker's dozen cumshot, she could feel a gooey torrent of babybatter pouring down the inside of her thigh. Each patron of her pussy that was being used to issue refunds for all the cans of ass-beating she brought to the able-bodied fighters of the township had something different to bring to the table.
On occasion, she would have her hair tugged on like a horse bridle while they humped at her well-worn backside. More than a few thumbs were pushed into her puckered butthole whilst they worked up another inbound batch of swimmers to join the fracas of nutbutter pooling in her creamed cunt. On top of having both of her asscheeks spanked until a tender, raw shade of pink colored every spare inch of skin, she could've sworn she received a couple of donkey punches to the small of her back. Considering the amount of whoppers she had given out, she couldn't say she didn't deserve it. However, through it all, she maintained her composure. If she was enjoying her dicking - and, truth be told, after the humiliation subsided, she kind of was - she didn't give her captors the satisfaction of showing it. All in all, she was proud of her performance as a ringside free-use fuckslut.
"You took it like a true champion of the people, Ms. Lindholm," spoke the familiar voice of the ape who had started this debaucherous domino effect. She felt the bungee cord ring ropes that had secured her in place lift away from her. A bear paw-sized hand closed around her shoulder and tugged her backwards. Unfortunately, after not standing for hours and taking a non-stop barrage to the pelvis, standing wasn't an ability currently off of cooldown for the budding hero. After bungeeing backwards off of the untwisted ropes, she landed flat on her back and, at the same time, at Sven's feet.
