Noble Gift

**** trade is something normal in Mandolia, I am just a manager and owner of a bar in this country. I have many acquaintances so it is not a problem for me to get information, even the dark kind. The bar is a place where everyone comes to unwind, to let their hair down and sometimes even to make deals that would make the gods themselves blush.

It was a typical sultry night, the kind of night that makes clothes stick to skin and desires run wild. The tavern was packed with all sorts of patrons, from dusty cowboys to well-dressed noblemen. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and whiskey, and the sound of raucous laughter and clinking glasses filled my ears. I was busy serving drinks, wiping down the bar with a stained cloth and listening to the various tall tales being spun.

In walked a nobleman, a man so tall and handsome that the very air around him seemed to quiver with his presence. He was known as Lord Castor, a man of wealth and power who could have any woman he wanted. His black hair was slicked back and his eyes shone like diamonds in the dim light of the tavern. He was accompanied by a cowgirl with dark hair that cascaded down to her waist, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her breasts were so large that they threatened to spill out of the flimsy leather corset she wore. They bounced with each step she took, drawing the eyes of every man in the bar.

Lord Castor approached the bar, his eyes scanning the bottles on the shelves before settling on me.

"Barkeep," he called out in a deep, commanding voice. "I've heard that you make the finest whiskey in these parts. I'd like a bottle of your best."

"Coming right up," I said, eager to please a man of his stature. I grabbed the most expensive bottle I had and filled a glass for him.

As he took a sip, his eyes narrowed in pleasure. "This is exquisite," he said. "What's the secret to your concoction?"

"A dash of love and a sprinkle of magic," I replied with a wink.

He chuckled and slapped the bar with a heavy hand. "I'll take two more bottles of this fine whiskey," he said, his voice slurred slightly by his first glass.

As the night went on, Lord Castor grew more and more intoxicated. He was generous with his tips, and his laughter was infectious. The cowgirl stood silently beside him, her eyes cast downward.

"What's her story?" I asked, nodding towards the girl.

Lord Castor leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Ah, she's a prize I won in a duel. Best fuck I've ever had, I swear. Cowgirls from the west have this wildness about them, you know?"

My cock twitched at the thought of fucking such a beauty, but I kept my face neutral. "She's certainly a sight to behold."

"Indeed," he said, his eyes roving over her body. "But she's getting a bit too wild for my taste. Perhaps you'd like to take her off my hands?"

I blinked in surprise. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," he slurred, waving his hand. "Just consider it a gift. For the whiskey. And maybe for a bit of...companionship."

My heart raced at the offer. A ****? Here, in my tavern? It was too good to be true. But before I could say anything, Lord Castor had passed out, the weight of his coin purse heavy on the bar.

The cowgirl looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading. I took the purse and nodded to one of my employees. "Take him to a room upstairs," I said. "Make sure he's comfortable."

Once Lord Castor was gone, I turned my attention to the cowgirl. She was trembling, her large breasts heaving with each breath she took.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Jessica," she murmured.

"Well, Jessica," I said, taking her by the chin and tilting her face up to look into her eyes. "You're mine now."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded.

I couldn't wait to get her to the back room and see what she had to offer. I led her through the kitchen, the heat from the stoves making her breasts glisten with sweat. She was wearing a tiny leather skirt that barely covered her ass, and I could see the cleft of her pussy peeking out as she walked.

We reached the back room, and I locked the door behind us. She looked around nervously, her hands fidgeting with the strings of her corset.

"Take it off," I told her, my voice gruff with lust.

With trembling hands, she untied the strings and let the corset fall to the floor, revealing her magnificent tits. They were so large and firm that they seemed to defy gravity, the nipples erect and begging for attention.

"Now, let's see what else you have to offer," I said, reaching out to unbuckle her skirt.

Her eyes went wide as she realized what was happening. "Please," she whimpered. "I'll do anything."

"Oh, I know you will," I said with a smirk.

The skirt fell to the floor, leaving her naked except for a pair of worn boots. Her pussy was shaved bare, and I could see the glistening of her arousal.

"On your knees," I ordered.

Without hesitation, she dropped to the ground. I pulled out my cock, which was already rock-hard, and placed it in her mouth. She took it eagerly, her tongue swirling around the head before taking it deeper.

I groaned as she sucked me, her eyes looking up at me with a mix of fear and lust. She was good, really good. I grabbed the back of her head and pushed deeper, feeling her throat tighten around me.

"That's it," I encouraged her. "Take it all."

Her cheeks bulged as she took me all the way in, and she began to gag. I didn't care. I fucked her mouth like it was her pussy, my hips moving in a steady rhythm.

After a few minutes, I pulled out and bent her over the barrel of whiskey. "Hold on," I told her. "This is going to be rough."

Without waiting for a response, I plunged into her wet cunt, feeling her tight walls clench around me. She moaned, and I knew she was enjoying it despite her protests. I fucked her hard, my hands grabbing her hips and pulling her back onto my cock.

Her breasts bounced as I pounded into her, and I couldn't resist reaching around to play with them. I pinched and twisted her nipples, eliciting gasps and moans from her lips.

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?"

"Yes, master," she whimpered.

I picked up the pace, my balls slapping against her ass. I could feel my orgasm building, and I knew I was going to fill her up with my cum.

"You're going to take it all," I told her. "You're going to be my little cum dumpster."

She moaned louder, pushing back into me. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her long neck. I leaned in and bit her, hard enough to leave a mark. She screamed in pleasure, her pussy tightening around me.

With one final thrust, I came, my hot seed spurting deep inside her. She shuddered and collapsed onto the barrel, her pussy still convulsing around me.

We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, her moans and cries filling the room. I fucked her in every way imaginable, using her mouth, her pussy, and even her tight asshole. She took it all with surprising enthusiasm, her body seemingly made for pleasure.

When the bar closed, and the last customer stumbled out into the night, I knew she was mine. She was more than just a gift; she was a treasure.

In the days that followed, Jessica became a permanent fixture in the tavern. She served drinks and food with a smile, but her true purpose was to satisfy my every sexual whim. Every night, after closing time, she would kneel before me, her large breasts bobbing as she awaited her instructions.

I trained her to be the perfect sex ****, teaching her new tricks and pushing her boundaries. She learned to take my cock in every hole, to swallow my cum without a trace, and to beg for more.

The patrons of the tavern began to whisper about us, their eyes lingering on Jessica's voluptuous body. Some even tried to make offers, but she was mine and mine alone.

One night, as I was fucking her on the bar top, her legs spread wide for everyone to see, she looked into my eyes and whispered, "Thank you, master."

I knew then that she had truly accepted her place. She was no longer just a cowgirl with a nobleman's collar; she was my devoted servant, my plaything, and my whore. And every night, she would serve me with her body, eager to feel my cum fill her up once again.

Her breasts grew even larger with each passing week, her belly swelling with the promise of new life. It seemed that my seed had taken root in her fertile womb. I didn't care if the child was mine; all that mattered was that she was mine.

Our nightly rituals grew more intense, our bond stronger. The bar flourished with the addition of my obedient cowgirl, and I knew that as long as she was by my side, I could conquer any challenge that Mandolia threw at me.

And so, we lived our lives in a whirlwind of passion and pleasure, our bodies intertwined in a dance that never grew old. Jessica was more than just a ****; she was my muse, my partner in crime, and the one who made my nights worth living.

The whiskey flowed, the stories grew wilder, and the moans grew louder. In the end, all that mattered was the sweet release we found in each other's embrace, the sticky mess we made, and the love that grew between us in the dark, sordid corners of the tavern.