Can You Break The New Guy?

BY : Breech_Loader
Category: +S through Z > Team Fortress 2
Dragon prints: 645
Disclaimer: Neither Team Fortress 2 and its characters is not owned by me - it's owned by Valve - and I make no money from this story.


Can You Break The New Guy?

By Breech Loader


Breech: One-Shot time! Gender-flipped Medic. Lutz is the feminine form of Ludwig – the Romanic form would be Louise. Chevy is actually the canon name of Classic Heavy.


The former RED Medic, Lutz Humboldt, had started working with Team Classic about a month ago, and she had been nothing if not busy. Their previous medic seemed to have done little-to-no experimentation on them. Why, they still had most of their original organs! What an amateur…

Currently her longcoat was hanging from a hook on the back of the door to the lab, she was not wearing her tie, and she had taken her gloves off to wash the blood off her hands from her most recent operation.

She didn’t regret coming here too much. She had new canvases to paint her art on, and it was certainly true that they brought in a whole lot more of the cadavers than her old team did. But the Classic Heavy treated her like some kind of nursemaid and usually kept her in the surgery and lab. She’d been a Field Medic during World War Two! You didn’t get better combat experience than that. It insulted everybody to say it didn’t count, no matter what excuse you thought up.

And speaking of the Classic Heavy, here he came stomping right now like a short-tempered bull… An older man, but she was no spring chicken herself. And age held no limitations on his strength. In other circumstances she might have found him attractive, except for that the man behaved like a thug not only towards his enemies, but around his team-mates too.

“Ah, Classic Heavy. It is very good to see you again!” she lied, “So, do you-“

“First off, Frankenstein,” he strode up and loomed over her, “What’ve I told you about callin’ me ‘Classic’ Heavy?” he asked, “Makes me sound old. It’s THE Heavy, or Boss, or even Chevy… Got it, Nurse?!”

“Well… Herr Chevy, I would be most grateful if you would remember that a doctor and a nurse are two very different professions. A doctor advises and diagnoses, while a nurse offers aid and physical treatment. Nurses are the eyes, ears and limbs, while doctors are the brains, but of course in a medical facility one could not possibly function without the other-“

“AND YOU ARE NEITHER!” Chevy interrupted, “I’m not here to argue over technical details with you, Lutz. I’ve got bigger problems than just your ‘qualifications’ right now.”

“Oh, so you do require a check-up!” Lutz snatched up her Syringe Gun. Chevy noted with disgust that she hadn’t even finished washing her bloody hands, “Just lie down on that table and I’ll-“

“Oh no you don’t, Lutz!” Chevy knocked it right out of her hand with a backhand, “Every time you’ve called one of my men in here for a check-up, they leave with more wrong than they went in with!”

“It’s true that they were all in perfect health when they came to see me,” Lutz admitted, “It would have been a waste of my time to not improve on it! But I forgive your ignorance, Herr Chevy. You are not a man of the sciences, or you would understand-”

The big man grabbed her by the shirt, lifting her right off her feet with one hand, “I understand you well enough when you’re sewin’ freaky animal organs into my men, left right and center, puttin’ God only knows what into ‘em… Ross told me about the Silverback Gorilla brain you put in Greg!”

“Well… you don’t hear Greg complaining, do you?” she asked, gasping slightly.


Lutz gasped as she was shaken, “Well, that brain wasn’t doing much just lying around after I put the brain of a serial killer into the body of that imported Silverback Gorilla!” she reasoned in an attempt to placate the huge man, “You did say you didn’t want me to waste the medical budget-”

“I said I didn’t want you to waste it on pointless experiments! That doesn’t mean you can turn this lab into your own fucking recycling plant-“ Chevy stopped, “Wait… whose serial killer brain, exactly?”

“Greg’s!” Lutz beamed proudly.

“WHAT?!” Chevy slammed her back against the side counter, and several sterile medical instruments scattered over the floor, “From this moment on, Kraut, you run every single one of your operations by me first, got it?!”

“I can’t possibly do that!” Lutz winced as her back was pressed against the counter, “I have so many operations and experiments and tests to carry out. No, Herr Chevy, I’m afraid I cannot adhere to your request. It would take forever.”

She levered herself away from him and turned away from him in a huff, bending over to pick up her surgical tools and drop them back into the tray.

“Oh no, you’re not turning your back on me that easy, Nurse!” he slammed a heavy hand on her shoulder and spun her back around, “Sounds to me like you need a little training… like the bitch you are!”

“Herr Chevy, as your physician I recommend you not to-“

Chevy backhanded her into the wall.

In some ways, Chevy reminded her a lot of Mikhail, the RED Heavy. He was a big man with a deep voice who never seemed to be in any real hurry; he was a leader, and his team trusted him. He was a lot smarter than he looked, too.

But Mikhail had never behaved like this. Chevy knew his presence like this over the slimmer, shorter doctor was unnerving her and seemed to be enjoying it. Mikhail was what you might get if God had decided to breed a man and a mountain and waited to see what turned up for the birth – large, slow-moving, dangerous but slow to anger. He’d never hurt anybody he wasn’t paid to unless they were the one who threatened him. Not just a gentleman but, by the standards of killers for hire, a gentle man.

The immediate future did not look gentle with Chevy present.

Lutz shook off the dizziness and looked around for her Ubersaw to fight back with, but it had been knocked to the floor with her other tools. Before she could make a lunge for it, Chevy had her pinned to the wall with one hand on her chest.

“Oh no, you’re not dodgin’ your way outta this one, Nurse,” Chevy told her, mistaking the movements for her trying to make a dash for it and pushing her into a corner of the room. He closed the distance so that they were nose-to-nose.

This close she could smell the sweat on his body and the beer on his breath. She wondered a little how much he’d had to drink. But it didn’t really matter, because Mikhail would never handle a team-mate like this, no matter how intoxicated he might become.

Thinking of Mikhail again, are we? a little voice in her head asked.

“You think you’re the boss of me, Lutz?” he asked her.

“Well it is certainly not your money that pays me to work here,” she retorted more calmly than she felt, “It’s Gray Mann’s money.”

Chevy punched her in the stomach, so hard that she was almost sick, “I’ll train ya like a bitch, I’ll break ya in like a mare, and I’ll tear you down from whatever fuckin’ pedestal you’ve put yourself on that makes you think you’re so much fuckin’ better ‘n everybody else, Lutz,” he grinned wolfishly, pushing the slim woman further into the corner, lifting her by the shirt with one hand, and moving in so close that they were nose-to-nose, “But I don’t want anybody saying otherwise, so I’m gonna give ya one chance so’s it won’t hurt… just one,” he pulled off his goggles and looked her in the eyes, “Are you gonna fall in line?”

Lutz gave him a look of utter revulsion. Then she spat in his face.

Chevy wiped his face, but he didn’t look surprised, “For bein’ a Medic, you ain’t very smart,” he sneered, reaching around her, “When’re you gonna work out…” he ripped her hair out of its rock-hard bun, causing her long black hair with its grey streak to spill down her back, almost to her waist, “You ain’t got no choice.”

“BITTEN! I NEED ASSIS-“ Lutz was cut off by a punch to the chest that winded her.

“Nobody cares, Lutz!” Chevy grinned, “You think any of my men are gonna help you, after the shit you’ve put in them? No, you brought this on yourself!” He ripped open her shirt, and was met with a sight that made him burst into laughter, “Jesus, Lutz, where d’ya get your undies… Army Surplus?” Her brassiere alone was sturdy enough to provide adequate shielding in a sandstorm.

“Verdammt Chevy… Take… your hands… away from me!” she snapped at him again, struggling as hard as possible. Pointless as it was, she utterly refused to give in.

He reached around to take off the bra, but when she was struggling like this it could only have been made more immovable with a padlock and key. He saved himself time and ripped it off instead, revealing her breasts, “Still got a little fire inside that iceberg, huh?” he started unbuckling her belt, “I like a woman who fights back!”

“Then you’ll love this!” Lutz braced herself, then slammed her forehead forward and up, into Chevy’s face.

Blood ran from his nose, and he finally looked a little surprised. But then he just grinned and pulled on her hair until her head pulled back and her spine was bent back, “Face it, doc, you’re not strong enough,” he pushed his hand into her trousers, then her panties. They were as sturdy and unimaginative as her bra. When he dragged them down, he discovered to his pleasure that underneath the uniform, Lutz had the body of a 66-year-old super-model. If he’d known about that, he would have done this sooner, “Joinin’ a team with seven men with a body like yours… you’re just askin’ for it.”

“No woman asks for this!” she screamed at him angrily, thrashing as he started to push her down, “A woman should be able to walk raving drunk down the street at midnight in her nothing-at-alls, and not fear to be accosted by a man!” she managed to plant one hand on his chest and started pushing him away with all her strength, “Or should I say, a worm!”

That got to him. With a punch, he knocked her to the floor and while he had her stunned, straddled her, “What did you just call me, Nurse?” he growled, starting to unbuckle his belt. Now that he was sitting on top of her, she could feel him bulging through his pants.

“Nein! You are not a worm!” she screamed, eyes narrowed in fury as she fought both him and the rising fear, “You are lower than a worm! You are dirt! Nein! You are what dirt wipes its feet on!”

“You’re gonna regret spewing that shit, you whimperin’ Nazi Kraut bitch!” he told her, finally getting angry at her resistance, “How long’s it been since anybody came knockin’, Lutz? Ten years? Twenty? If I blew, I bet I’d find cobwebs!”

He might actually be right there. It had been almost forty years. And that was partly because her last experience had been less than enjoyable itself.

For some reason, her thoughts flashed briefly to Mikhail again. He would never do this. He would never even contemplate it. If the idea should come to him at all, it would be in a nightmare that he would surely wake up screaming from…

“You keep fightin’, and this will hurt a whole lot more,” Chevy warned her. He moved two large fingers to her slit and pushed them in to test her. The yell of pain told him enough all on its own, and she was tight. If he didn’t loosen her up, she’d be screaming all the way through. Then again, nobody would come anyway.

“Fich dich,” she spat at him, pain in her sharp grey eyes, scrabbling around, reaching for something, anything to fight him off with.

“Pretty tight in there, huh?” He grinned like a wolf ready for the kill as he pulled his fingers out of her, and ran his tongue over them. Then he grabbed her wrists with one hand and held them above her head. And then he grabbed his own cock and started to pump at it until it was almost full length, “I hope this hurts,” he snarled.

Then, hard and dry, he drove his hips forward, forcing his cock into her. She was so tight that he strained and he had to pull out some way. Then he pushed forward again. It took several agonising thrusts before he broke past the barrier, with her screaming underneath him in agony.

“NEIN! HERR CHEVY, NEIN!” she screamed at him, the tears of pain, rage and fear trickling back from the corners of her eyes and into her hair.

He started to thrust with rapid, irregular motions, his cock far too thick for her to take without pain, as ill-prepared as she was, “Here’s how it’s gonna go, Nurse,” he panted, “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna start behaving like a real doctor!”

“NEIN! STOP!” She couldn’t stop screaming as the huge man knotted fingers in her hair and pulled again. Each time she struggled, he grabbed another part of her body.

“It’s not gonna stop, Lutz! I’ll make sure of it! You thought you could get away from this forever?!” he laughed as he tore into her again and again like an animal, her blood shining on his cock and smearing her thighs.


He kept thrusting his hips against her; rough movements and a rhythm that changed whenever he moved to put his hands somewhere else on her body, “You’re not so bad lookin’, Nurse. Got anybody who might be missin’ ya?” he held her face in both large hands as he kept thrusting, “Might take the sting off, to think of ‘em.”

With an animalistic growl, he forced his lips onto hers, and pushed his tongue into her mouth.

The suggestion that she should think of Mikhail and even associate him with this violation filled Lutz with a new strength and fury. She managed to free a hand, and clawed her nails at his face. They continued to struggle, and the only pleasure that the big man could gain was the knowledge that all this fighting was agony for the medic as she was violated.

Even that was muted by the knowledge that she was fighting anyway.

She didn’t want to beg. But she couldn’t stop herself from screaming, even with his tongue halfway down her throat…


“Wake up! Wake up!”

Lutz sat up with a loud gasp in her solidly built pyjamas, still screaming and flailing at the air, “ACH! BITTEN!” She shoved the bare-chested Mikhail away and tumbled out of bed, still crying out in fear.

“Doktor! Doktor, it is just nightmare!” Mikhail tried to get through to her. She was almost seizing in terror. His Medic, who he cared for more than he’d ever dare to admit to her, was afraid of nothing. Not even death. At least, she hadn’t been until she’d come back from working for Team Classic. Now Team Classic was defeated and she had returned to them… to him… And she woke up like this.

The doctor was screaming in incomprehensible German, but still he managed to pick out the name ‘Chevy’ a few times. He stepped forward and caught hold of her as she thrashed on the floor, turning her to look at him.

“Doktor, I am Mikhail. Listen to my voice,” he spoke loud and firm, turning her to look at him easily, “It is nightmare. You are safe now.”

Lutz’s cries died down as his voice managed to pierce her fear-clouded mind. She focused on him, relaxing a little, “Mikhail…”

“Da, I am here. Do not be afraid, you have bad dream.” He let go of her and stepped back, giving her some space to breathe, "We all have bad dream."

“Ach… Ein albtruam…” Lutz toughed her eyelids, blinked a couple of times, and started patting herself down to check she was awake, still in her heavy pyjamas, her black hair falling out of its loose night-time plait. She was sweating and shaking and she couldn’t stop, “A nightmare…”

“Lutz,” the great mountain of a man approached the shaking woman again now that she could speak. He had heard the screams from his own room across the hallway, “You screamed his name again.”

“Nein Mikhail, I…”

“And… you are crying,” he pointed out gently. She touched her eyes again, finding tears, “I know he hurt you.”

“Ja, but… I am well now,” she insisted. It was a lie. She couldn’t stop shaking, even now that she was awake and in her own room in the base, and Mikhail was here with her…

“Niet. This is third nightmare in week. You are not ‘well’,” Mikhail walked her back to her bed and sat her down. After a moment he sat next to her. The bed creaked audibly under his added weight, “Please… talk to me.” He was no innocent baby. He had seen dreadful, sickening things in his life, and he didn’t want his suspicions to be right… but this did nothing to dismiss them.

Lutz fought down her tears and her words. It always made her uncomfortable to cry in front of others. She was usually the least emotional one of the team.

“You say he only hit you once. Only,” Mikhail spat the word. He knew that Lutz didn’t like anybody suggesting she was weaker because she was a woman, but the knowledge that a man who thought himself a leader would lash out at his own team-mates disgusted the Russian.

She nodded.

“I know you would not let any man get away with such a thing. You are far too strong…” the mountain of a man took her shaking hand in his, stroking it gently, “If there is more, I will not tell it,” he promised.

Lutz swallowed a couple of times, still fighting back tears. But she wasn’t sure if she could go on like this, night after night, denying it to the team even as they all knew she was lying. “He… did do more,” she choked on the words, and turned to Mikhail, pressing her face against his bare chest to hide her humiliation.

“Lutz… we know…” Mikhail pulled her a little closer, his other hand stroking her back. None of them was so innocent that they needed an explanation by now, “My only regret is that I kill him before we know,” he growled.

“He burned me inside,” the Medic choked out, her arm over Mikhail’s shoulder, “Like hellfire… There was… blood… I fought… and he did it again… I pretended to break… but he wasn’t fooled… so I kept fighting… and he kept on…” she began to sob, her face hidden, “So many times… I could not stop him… I wasn’t strong enough…”

“But strong enough to admit it,” Mikhail tried to comfort her despite the boiling anger he still felt, “He will never hurt you again, my doktor,” he spoke softly, running his large fingers though her hair, “He is dead, and I am here.”

“You… you were in my nightmare…” Lutz whispered.

“I… am?” Alarm rose to Mikhail’s blue eyes, concerned that he might be hurting her in some way himself. He began to rise, “I will go-“

Nein, Misha... I only dreamt how I knew you would never… never do any of those things,” Lutz tightened her hold on his shoulder as tears ran down her cheeks, “Bitten… Don’t leave me alone with nightmares…”

Mikhail thought over her words and pulled her into his lap gently, ready to let go of her the moment she protested. When she said nothing at all, he held her cheek so that she would look into his blue eyes, “You are strongest woman I ever meet. I see him kill you. You fight Death. You win. I do not ask how this is. I only know you can win again.”

Lutz sighed, nodding slightly, “Don’t leave me, Misha…” she wrapped her arms around him as far as she could reach, her nails digging into his back.

“You need me,” he laid her down on her bed, and then lay down next to her, holding her gently in his strong, thick arms, “You need me, so I will stay.”

“Don’t leave me…” she whispered, pressing herself to his bare chest for the warmth and safety his embrace provided.

“I am here, my little doctor. I am here…” Mikhail pulled her a bit higher and let his lips brush her forehead.

After all, he didn’t want her to feel the throbbing bulge in his boxers the way he could.


Breech: Yeah, it was all a dream. Well, a flashback. Hey, it’s a rape scene with a happy ending. What more do ya want?!

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