Alex takes Camila to the alchemist, where she, in an act of calculated submission, strips and offers herself to the fat man. While the alchemist takes her roughly, Alex watches calmly, analyzing every detail of the scene.
Alex crosses the threshold of the alchemist's shop with deliberate steps, the dust of the northern road still clinging to his boots. The air inside smells of burnt sulfur and dried herbs, a combination reminiscent of the abandoned laboratories in his former territory. Beside him, Camila walks with her characteristic contained grace, her wide hips swaying under the simple fabric of her maid's dress. Her breasts, prominent and firm, press against the cotton with every breath.
The alchemist, a man whose belly juts out like a mountain of poorly contained fat under a stained robe, looks up from his jars. His small, bright eyes immediately fixate on Camila, scanning her figure with an eagerness he makes no effort to disguise.
"Alex," the fat man says, his voice rough as sand. "You bring company. Unexpected."
Alex nods, keeping his eyes on the shelves filled with colored jars. "I need your expertise. And I would like a coffee. Camila," he turns to her, "could you serve the gentleman?"
Camila bows her head, a perfect reverence that makes her breasts subtly sway. "Of course, master. It is an honor to serve your guests." Her lips, plump and natural, form a timid smile as she heads to the small kitchen in the corner.
The alchemist rubs his belly. "A maid who serves coffee. How... traditional." His eyes follow the movement of Camila's buttocks under the dress, round and ample, promising a generosity of flesh that few can offer.
While Camila prepares the coffee, Alex observes the alchemist. He notices how the man's hands tense when she leans over to reach for a cup, how the dress tightens against her curves. Instead of the anger he would expect to feel, a strange calm takes over him. It is like observing a chemical experiment: you know what reactions will occur, but it is still fascinating to witness them.
"Sir," Camila says, approaching with a tray, "I noticed it is hot in here. Perhaps you would like it if I changed into something more comfortable to serve you better."
The alchemist raises an eyebrow, his interest palpable. "You are considerate, girl. Very much so."
Camila leaves the tray on a table and retreats to a corner. Alex does not look away as she undresses. Her dress falls to the floor, revealing a red bikini that looks painted onto her skin. The tight top holds her breasts firmly, showing the perfect curve of her chest. The bottom, a minimal piece of fabric, disappears between the masses of her buttocks, barely containing their abundance.
"By all the saints," the alchemist murmurs, adjusting himself in his chair. "You are a work of art."
Camila approaches him, her hips swaying with a hypnotic rhythm. "It is for your comfort, sir."
The alchemist stands up, his stomach trembling with the movement. He extends his hands and places them on Camila's waist, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh. She does not shrink back. Instead, she steps closer, allowing her breasts to press against the fat man's chest.
Alex watches from his chair, his hands resting quietly on his knees. He sees how the alchemist's hands explore Camila's back, sliding down to rest upon her buttocks. The man squeezes them, causing the flesh to spill between his thick fingers.
"You have the most incredible ass I have ever seen in my life," the alchemist says, his voice now hoarse with desire.
Camila smiles, that characteristic timidity still present in her eyes. "Thank you, sir. I do what I can to please."
With slow, deliberate movements, Camila kneels in front of the alchemist. Her hands, trembling but determined, go to the man's waist. She unties the drawstring of his pants, and the fabric falls to his ankles. The alchemist's member, semi-erect and thick, is released into the air.
Camila looks at it with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. Her lips part slightly. "I have never..." she begins, but cuts herself off, moving closer.
Her tongue, pink and delicate, comes out to touch the tip of the member. The alchemist exhales sharply, his hands resting on Camila's head. She continues to explore timidly, licking the length, her movements uncertain but genuine.
"Yes," the alchemist whispers. "Like that. Keep going."
Camila takes the member into her mouth, her lips stretching around the thickness. Her movements are hesitant at first, but gain confidence. Her head begins to move with more rhythm, taking more depth with each thrust.
Alex watches how Camila's cheeks hollow out, how her lips become wet. He hears the soft sounds she makes, small muffled whimpers that vibrate against the man's flesh. The alchemist begins to move his hips, pushing gently against Camila's mouth.
"Get up," the alchemist orders after a few minutes. Camila obeys, her mouth red and wet. "Now, on the couch."
The couch, old and worn, creaks as Camila lies down on it. The alchemist approaches, his eyes fixed on the red bikini that barely covers her private parts. With a sudden movement, he pulls aside the fabric of the bottom, revealing Camila's cunt, already wet and waiting.
"A virgin," the alchemist says, more as a statement than a question. He positions himself between her legs, his member fully erect now. "This is going to hurt."
Camila nods, her hands gripping the couch cushions. "I understand, sir."
The alchemist penetrates with a slow but firm movement. Camila cries out, a sharp sound of pain and surprise. Alex sees how she tenses, how her back arches. A small stain of blood appears on the fabric of the couch where their bodies join.
"I'm sorry," Camila says, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."
The alchemist pauses for a moment, then continues his movement. "Damn you," he growls. "You are so tight it hurts my cock."
Camila apologizes again, her hips beginning to move in response to his thrusts. "Forgive me, sir. I will do what I can to make it more comfortable for you."
The alchemist increases his pace, his hands gripping Camila's hips tightly. The couch sways beneath them, its old springs complaining with every movement. The sounds of their bodies clapping fill the room, mixed with Camila's moans and the alchemist's pants.
"Your ass," the alchemist says between his teeth. "Your damn ass is perfect."
His hands leave Camila's hips to explore her buttocks, squeezing and massaging the abundant flesh. Camila responds by arching her back further, presenting herself completely to the man.
Alex watches all of this from his chair, his expression neutral. He notices every detail: how sweat makes the alchemist's skin glisten, how Camila's tits sway with each thrust, how the couch threatens to collapse under their combined weight.
The alchemist accelerates his movements, his pants becoming more urgent. Camila receives it all, her moans now of pleasure mixed with the residual pain. The couch creaks and sways dangerously, but they continue, lost in their rhythm.
"I'm going to..." the alchemist begins, but cuts himself off with a deep grunt as he reaches his climax, filling Camila with his semen.
They stay like that for a moment, both breathing heavily. Then, the alchemist withdraws, his member flaccid and dripping. Camila remains lying on the couch, her body trembling slightly.
"That," the alchemist says, fixing his pants, "was incredible."
Camila sits up slowly, her expression still timid but now with a new confidence. "Thank you, sir. I was a good servant to you."
Alex finally stands up, approaching the couch. He extends a hand to Camila. "Yes, you were."