The Dark Side of a Barmaid's Fantasy

As I polish the mugs and pour the ale, I often find myself lost in a world of fantasy. My patrons think I’m just a sweet, innocent barmaid, but little do they know, I have a secret. In my mind, the Wandering Oak is a place where anything goes, and the patrons are always eager to please. I imagine the blacksmith, with his strong arms and rugged demeanor, bending me over the bar, his heavy boots digging into the wood as he takes me from behind.

But it’s not just the blacksmith who catches my eye. Oh no, I have a whole collection of fantasies, each one more scandalous than the last. The baker, with his flour-dusted apron and charming smile, is always a favorite. I imagine him sweeping me off my feet, carrying me up to the hayloft, and making me scream with pleasure. And then, of course, there’s the rogue, with his quick wit and cunning ways. He’s always up to something, and I love the thrill of not knowing what he’ll do next.

As the night wears on, and the fire burns low, I find myself getting more and more carried away with my fantasies. I imagine the whole tavern, the patrons and the staff, all of us lost in a world of debauchery and desire. It’s a secret world, hidden from the prying eyes of the outside world, a world where anything goes, and the only rule is to have fun. And who knows, maybe one day, my fantasies will become a reality…