A dark game of power, desire, and submission in the blacksmith's shop alters relationships and stirs intense emotions. The servant faces her surrender and an uncertain future between two men.
The afternoon sun filtered through the cracks in the smithy, casting shafts of golden light onto the packed earth floor. The air smelled of hot iron and coal, a scent Alex found familiar, almost comforting. Sitting in a corner, his dark robes draped over his body, he silently watched his adopted servant. She stood in the center of the workshop, her delicate and timid figure a stark contrast to the harshness of her surroundings. Her night-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her deep brown eyes gazed down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with the blacksmith, who watched her with interest.
"Strip her," Alex ordered in a calm but firm voice. His tone brooked no reply, and the servant, though trembling, nodded obediently.
With slow, clumsy movements, the young woman began to untie the knots of her simple dress. Her slender fingers trembled slightly, revealing her nervousness. The dress fell to the floor, revealing her slender, pale body. She wore only a thin undertunic that hugged her curves, but Alex gestured with his hand, indicating that she should continue. The servant gulped, her cheeks tinged with a deep red, and slid the tunic off her shoulders, letting it fall alongside the dress.
The blacksmith, a robust man with muscular arms marked by years of metalworking, approached slowly. His morbid gaze scanned the young woman's body, lingering on her small but firm breasts, the curve of her waist, and the dark hair that peeped out between her thighs. Alex, hidden in the shadows, watched closely as the servant timidly covered herself with her hands, trying to protect her privacy, although he knew it was in vain.
"What a beautiful body," the blacksmith murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire. Without another word, he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his member, already erect and red with arousal. The maid took a step back, but Alex stopped her with a stern look.
"Let me touch you," he said, his voice cold but not devoid of a strange tenderness. "It's part of your duty."
The blacksmith wasted no time. With firm steps, he approached the young woman and took her by the waist, pulling her towards him. She closed her eyes, feeling the heat of his body and the smell of sweat and iron emanating from him. With a sudden movement, he pushed her against a workbench, causing her breasts to be crushed against the cold wood. The servant let out a muffled moan, more of surprise than pain, as the blacksmith stood behind her.
"Your pussy is swollen and red," he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. "I can tell you're a virgin. I love it."
With one finger, he traced a path from her navel to her sex, causing her to squirm slightly. The blacksmith smiled, pleased by her reaction, and without further ado, positioned his member at the entrance of her body. The servant held her breath, feeling the wet tip brush against her sensitive skin.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice softer now. "Let it fill you."
With a slow but firm thrust, the blacksmith penetrated her completely. The servant bit her lower lip to stifle a scream, feeling her virginity being stolen. The pain was brief, quickly replaced by a strange, pleasurable sensation that made her arch her back.
"How does it feel?" the blacksmith asked, his voice now husky with desire. "Do you like my cock inside you?"
She didn't respond, but her body spoke for itself. Her muscles relaxed, and a soft moan escaped her lips. The blacksmith began to move slowly, enjoying the tightness of her virgin pussy. With each thrust, his hips ground against her buttocks, producing a wet, obscene sound that echoed throughout the workshop.
Meanwhile, Alex, still hidden in the shadows, had unbuttoned his tunic and pulled out his member. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to masturbate, watching the scene with a mixture of fascination and desire. It excited him to see his servant being possessed, her shy, virginal body turned into an object of pleasure for the blacksmith.
The blacksmith increased his pace, his thrusts now faster and deeper. The servant, her eyes closed, allowed herself to be carried away by the sensations coursing through her body. Her breasts bounced with each movement, and her moans became more audible, filling the workshop with her fragile voice.
"You're perfect," the blacksmith whispered, leaning down to kiss her neck. "Your pussy is so tight... I love the way you squeeze me."
With one hand, he cupped one of her breasts, squeezing it tightly as he continued to move inside her. The maid moaned, feeling the pleasure building in her lower abdomen. She had never imagined something like this could feel so good.
Alex, still masturbating, crept closer. He watched as the blacksmith dominated his servant, her sweaty body glistening in the dim light. With a swift movement, he positioned himself behind her and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot on her skin. "Even with his cock inside you."
The servant opened her eyes, surprised by Alex's words. Their gazes met for a brief moment, and she felt a strange warmth in her chest. Despite the situation, she felt cared for, as if Alex was there not only to watch over her, but to protect her.
The blacksmith, oblivious to the interaction, continued to move vigorously. His breathing became more labored, and his moans mingled with the maid's. With one last thrust, he stopped, his member buried deep inside her body.
"I'm going to fill you," he whispered, his voice husky with pleasure. "I'm going to give you my seed."
The servant closed her eyes, feeling the blacksmith unload his hot semen inside her. The warm liquid filled her, and she couldn't help but moan again, this time from a mixture of pleasure and surprise. The blacksmith slowly withdrew, letting his member slide out of her body, glistening with the remnants of his ejaculation.
"Promise me something," the servant said, her voice still trembling. "Give me children. I want to carry your blood in my womb."
The blacksmith smiled, pleased by the request. With a swift movement, he turned her around to face him. "I promise," he said, kissing her passionately. "I will give you many children, and we will raise them together."
Alex, still standing behind her, watched the scene with an indelible expression. Her hand, still holding her servant's, squeezed it gently, as if she wanted to convey something to her without words. The servant, her eyes closed, smiled slightly, feeling a strange peace amidst the chaos.
When the blacksmith finally released her, she turned to Alex, seeking his gaze. But he had already retreated into the shadows, his figure blending with the darkness. The servant remained there, standing in the center of the workshop, her body still trembling and her mind in a turmoil of emotions.
The echo of his promise resonated in the air, mingling with the smell of iron and sweat. Alex, now alone with his thoughts, reflected silently. What had he witnessed? Had it been an act of power, desire, or something deeper? His gaze was lost in the complexity of what had just happened, while the workshop returned to its usual silence, as if nothing had happened.
But something had changed. The servant was no longer the same, and Alex knew it. Inside her, a seed had been planted, not only in her body, but in her mind. And as the sun set, dyeing the sky orange, the echo of her promise continued to resonate, inviting interpretation and leaving a mixture of desire, power, and vulnerability that would endure.