RedCherry - Night Encounter with the Master: Shadows of Medieval Streets

Patricia walked along the deserted street of a medieval town. Night wrapped the narrow alleys in soft darkness; only rare torches on the house walls cast trembling spots of light. Her black hair was neatly braided into one long plait that fell down her back. The dress with bare shoulders clung to her figure, emphasizing her beautiful breasts that swayed slightly with each step. She moved softly, almost silently, gently swaying her hips as if the night itself was guiding her forward.

Suddenly a man stepped out from around the corner. Tall, attractive, with black hair and a dark cloak that concealed his figure. Patricia stopped sharply, her heart pounding.

— Who are you? — she asked in a trembling voice. — Don’t come any closer…

He slowly approached her, and a strange, alluring gleam flashed in his eyes.

— Don’t be afraid, — he said in a low, velvety voice. — What I need from you is not at all what you fear. I see your soul… and it is already calling to me.

Patricia wanted to step back, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground. His gaze enveloped her, sinking deeper than fear. She felt the fear dissolve, replaced by a strange warmth.

— What… what is your name? — she whispered barely audibly.

— That doesn’t matter now, — he replied, coming close. — The only thing that matters is that you are already mine.

He gently touched her shoulders and began to remove her dress. The fabric slid down, leaving her skin open to the night air. Patricia did not resist. He turned her toward the wall of an old house, pressed against her from behind, and entered her in one confident motion. She let out a quiet gasp at the sudden fullness of sensation. Each thrust sent a deep wave of pleasure spreading through her body. She pressed herself against the cold wall, her fingers sliding over the stone, while inside everything clenched with delight. Her breathing grew uneven; her hips moved toward him of their own accord.

— More… please… — she exhaled.

He quickened his movements, holding her by the hips. Patricia no longer thought of anything except this burning pleasure that filled her completely. When he slowed, she felt him withdraw, and at once she sank to her knees before him. Without a word she took him into her mouth, caressing him with her tongue and lips, giving herself entirely. She was already head over heels in love — with that voice, that gaze, that power.

He looked down at her, smiling slightly.

— I need another wife, — he said calmly. — And you will become her.

With those words he finished on her face. The warm fluid touched her skin, and in that same instant something inside Patricia changed sharply. Her pupils flared bright red. A slight sharpness appeared in her mouth — thin fangs had cut through. Fear, uncertainty, the former girlish timidity vanished without a trace. Now she looked up at him from below with a hungry, devoted gleam in her eyes.

— I am ready to serve you, my master, — she whispered, and there was not a drop of her former shyness left in her voice. Only hunger and devotion.