# /fesg/ Pegging Emblem ->**Merrin/Jade**<- I would absolutely love to be pegged by some gallant, handsome heroine. Merrin’s breath hot against my nape, her teeth sharp against my throat as she clambers atop me like a beast, her practiced confidence faltering slightly as she brings her toy to bear… So many wonderful, flattering lines falling from her lips as she moves, her modest chest pressed against my back, her dexterous fingers finding their way around my body to help work forth my release even faster… A far cry from the simple, steady movements of the tireless Jade. Just being pressed into the mattress by her strong arms, her untied hair tickling my neck as it cascades past her shoulders. So few words interrupting the rhythm of her exhalation, save for those moments of a writer’s inspiration, where she describes a loyal knight bedding her charge… The differences between a delight in their own. Merrin’s noisy enthusiasm just as heartwarming as Jade’s own stoicism. Merrin’s fumbling attempts at playing an experienced romantic so delightfully endearing… The comfort of being trapped beneath Jade’s powerful frame, her wordless groan of enjoyment as you finish… Begin pegged by such amazing women, and so many more among the Somniel, really would be so wonderfully gratifying. ->**Sonia/Constance**<- It’s a wonderful thought, isn’t it? That comfortable, emasculating pleasure of allowing a woman to take charge, to surrender the masculine role and simply bask in such selfish ecstasy. Honestly, it might be faster to name those I wouldn’t enjoy being pegged by; every one of Fire Emblem’s many heroines would have their own quirks that make imagining the act a delight. Regardless, I am helpless before powerful, domineering women and none more so than the morph, Sonia. It would be an entirely different affair with her, to be sure. Her contemptuous laughter as I lower myself onto her gleaming phallus so endlessly arousing… Just the same as her casual disregard for the act. Sonia reclining in her seat, a thin smile upon her lips as her finger traces the course of my spine, never bothering to move herself an inch. She is perfection, after all. Why would she ever deign to make such an effort? Yet it would be enough simply to work myself upon her false member, to delight in her sadistic laughter as her nails rake across my back and she demands to hear the praise for her beauty fall from my mouth… I could never refuse her command. Constance is another favorite of mine. The act itself would come only after a long, romantic evening as befitting such noble company. And indoors, as a necessity. Our bed canopied by its curtains and lit by candlelight, Constance’s adoring face staring down at my own as she arranges our limbs into a comfortable position and thrusts… Her exuberance only building as the act continues, her trepidation giving way to arrogance as my excitement becomes clear. Her ego nursed by my loving praise, her gentle demands for me to lose myself beneath her sending me clean over the edge… Her lips hot and damp against my own as we embrace, my seed warm between our flesh… ->**Tharja/Panette**<- Pegging suits any woman, I would argue, whether it might be rough and exhaustive, a continuation of grateful submission, or simply a romantic act of trust and intimacy. Every nuance is a delight, and none better than the others. It suits Tharja more than you might think. She’s so desperate to please you, after all, so willing to indulge any fantasy if it might bring you closer together. Her research would be thorough; the size, the girth, the shape, everything designed precisely to bring you the utmost pleasure. The thing glistening with the warm, clinging coat of the potion she’s created especially to lubricate it. And then, when you are both naked and embraced upon your bed, Tharja suddenly realizes that dreaming constantly about entering you doesn’t actually qualify as experience. Even so, isn’t it a wonderful thought, that of Tharja’s body spooning yours from behind? Her smooth, pale skin pressed against you as she gingerly penetrates your behind, her quiet voice constantly at your ear, asking how it feels, if its comfortable, if she’s doing it correctly… And Panette is lovely choice as well. She would certainly begin ever so gently, her elegant manner strangely out of place alongside such a sexual act, but the mask would begin to slip as you both slowly lose yourself to the moment… Pannette’s powerful arms pressing you deeper into the mattress, her waist tireless in its thrusts, low, gratifying growls rumbling against your throat as she lets herself go, entirely overcome with the pleasure of dominating you so. The contrast of the filth she’d roar as she crushes your prostate with her doting, embarrassed manner the next morning, would be endlessly charming in of itself. And entirely worth the limp~ ->**Edelgard**<- Edelgard’s courtly manner would likely extend even to the bedroom, at first, as a useful facade with which to conceal her embarrassment. A faint blush to her cheeks as she commands you to crawl upon your hands and knees, the mattress creaking loudly as she clambers on behind you… The impressive girth of her strap-on enhanced all the more by her diminutive frame, her coarse fingers rough against your shoulders as her powerful arms press down upon you, making your back arch and your ass press against her waist… Edelgard’s slender frame unable to cover you completely, her breath hot and rasping against your shoulder blades, her nails digging into your waist as she clings to you, her clumsy, probing thrusts delivered only with the thought of pleasing you, desperate to return some small fraction of the affection you’ve given her. In that moment there would be no emperor, no prodigy, just a simple, adoring girl anxiously questioning whether it feels comfortable for you, if it hurts, if it’s too rough, if it feels good… Edelgard desperate to hear your loving, pleasured groans as she drives every last inch of her deep inside of you… ->**Dorothea**<- The ravishing Dorothea would make a similar yet contrasting experience, I feel. One wonders if she wouldn’t perhaps suggest such an indulgence long before you’ve even considered it yourself. Dorothea’s manicured fingers running through your hair as you embrace upon her bed, her damp lips at your throat as you spoon, her gorgeous breasts heavy and warm against your back. It would, perhaps, be peculiar at first, to feel so utterly safe within the embrace of such a delicate woman. Safe, nurtured, beloved. Her experienced fingers coiling around your aching length as her own simulacrum carefully works its way within you; Dorothea’s gentle voice always at play against your ear, whispering such adoring praise, complimenting you, always, for being such a good, good boy… Even as her hand works the pleasure into your cock, her own girth would probe knowingly at your every weakness, stimulating your prostate with such experienced, curving thrusts that the light sparks behind your eyes and all you can truly sense is her gorgeous, intoxicating voice and the constant, beating pleasure of her length moving inside of you…! I dare say that waking up to Dorothea’s amused laughter at your throat, her arms hugged around your chest and her rigid length still half buried within your body might not be all that a rare of an occurrence. Certainly, being spoiled by such a caring, attentive woman would be utter bliss. ->**Lysithea**<- Lysithea pegging you is so utterly adorable to imagine, if only for the charmingly surreal appearance of something so long and hard jutting from her tiny, slender waist. Not to mention how endearing her fragile confidence would seem when presented with your vulnerable, submissive form… Her waifish frame would exclude many of the more adventurous positions, instead, you might find yourself upon your side, knees curled in towards your chest, as Lysithea’s tiny arms brace themselves beside your head. Her long, fragrant hair tickling your face as she stares down at you, grim determination etched across her brow, her voice breaking as she tries, and fails, to pretend as if she knows what she is doing. Her demands curt and brusque as she tells you not to fidget, yet full of such timid concern as her phallus slowly pushes its way into your rectum… Her voice rising in alarm as you groan aloud, the frantic, genuine worry plain in her voice as she frets about having hurt you, all of it quickly replaced with a pout as you explain that the discomfort is only passing and not altogether unwanted… It really is wonderful, imagining Lysithea’s small, slender frame moving atop your own… Her gasping, exhausted moans as her stamina drains quickly with each thrust of her hips, the stubbornness driven into her brow as she resolves not to surrender to her fatigue until she has worked that glorious, shuddering orgasm from you… Until she has proven she is every part an adult, and every part your lover. Yes, that cathartic, rushing release as her plastic size caresses you from within would be glorious in of itself, but perhaps even that would be dwarfed by the simple, comforting intimacy of Lysithea’s tired body collapsing atop of you; her labored gasps hot against your face, her tiny, heartfelt smile of accomplishment so impossibly charming… ->**Marianne**<- Ah, sweet, gentle Marianne… Her faltering, nervous manner would warm the heart, no doubt, as she carefully lies herself atop your chest. So many long, loving minutes spent with your mouths pressed together, Marianne’s eyes round and wide before your own, a small, sincere smile breathtaking upon her lips… The warmth of her love pervading your every sense as she rises back onto her knees, her false member glistening with lubrication, her hands gently pushing back your legs, folding them at the knees so that she might move herself against you, her length gingerly probing your taut sphincter… With Marianne, there could never be anything but making love. Her adoring face smiling down at you as she slowly thrusts forward, giggling in quiet delight as she teases such long, pleading groans from your throat, the mere sight of your gasping face thrilling her own beating heart. Every press of her shaft against your prostate magical in its thrill, yet nothing compared to those three little words that would fall from her mouth over and over; Marianne’s constant, delighted confession of her love for you joining the chorus of your moans and the creak of the mattress, her lips pressed greedily to your own as you finally reach your release… Marianne’s beautiful features filling your sight as you finish, her loving praise soaking your mind as orgasm follows orgasm and she simply continues to embrace you, desperate to feel your body pulse against her own, to hear you whimper her name with such vulnerable, desperate need… Perhaps it would feel selfish, the way Marianne would so tenderly care for your spent form, but there is surely nothing which would bring her greater joy than those moments where you allow yourself to become so weak… Those moments when there is nothing to share but the warmth of your embrace, and the love in your hearts. ->**Yunaka**<- Wouldn’t Yunaka be something? The talented thief slipping easily into your chambers to surprise you one evening, some sleek, glistening shaft affixed to her waist, a mischievous smile stretched across her lips. Zappy, indeed. Your body pressed against a cold wall, the stifling warmth of Yunaka’s body trapping you there, her heaving chest squashed against your back, her playful tone delighting against your nape. Her voice slipping in and out of impersonating so many familiar figures, returning to her own bubbly tone only to utter some playful command… Yunaka telling you to relax as her coarse hands find your waist, your feet spread wide by her own and her solid girth pushing into your ass… Your every shudder met with an appreciative hum, her experienced hands holding you in place even as the strength in your legs departs, lost amid the pleasure sparking along your spine, through every boiling nerve. The soft clap of her thighs against your own joining the chorus of her humming, playful encouragement spilling from her lips as she goads you on and on, teasing you incessantly for having such an easily exploited weakness… And then, as you feel yourself careening over that glorious edge, Yunaka’s teeth are at your ear, her breath impossibly warm as her voice drops low and suddenly Yunaka is gone. Suddenly, it is Larimar at your throat, compelling you to finish, to lose yourself against the wall, to lose yourself atop her hard, thrusting cock…! With Yunaka, one can only wonder if it would ever stop at merely that one gratifying release, her playful smile returning as you catch your breath, her gaze gleaming with such loving mischievousness as she remarks aloud how many places upon the Somniel it’s almost impossible to be seen from… ->**Maribelle**<- Would it offend a good sense of propriety to be rewarded so by the noble Maribelle? Noblesse oblige, or so they say, but far more than that, Maribelle would simply cherish the chance to hold you. That is not to say, however, that any slip in one’s manners would be tolerated. No, Maribelle would merely seat herself upon the edge of her extravagant bed, her thighs parted and the shaft of her polished, gleaming member rising proudly into the air. It would be your task to mount her, to keep your back straight as you descend onto her fake girth, to bite back your shameful moans until you have been given leave to speak. Your knees braced either side of Maribelle’s feminine hips, her gloved fingers skirting the base of your spine, moving to tease the boundary of where your ass stretches around her length. Her other hand curving around your nape, pulling you in for a soft, fleeting kiss. Your noble wife staring longingly into your eyes, a devious smile upon her lips as she finally gives you permission to move… The mattress would groan as you bounce atop Maribelle’s strap-on, her gloved fingers wrapped around your aching cock as she holds your gaze. Any tremble to your posture, any longing groan escaping your lips, met with a firm squeeze of her hand and a stern, teasing reminder to mind your manners… Maribelle’s gentle denial only coming to an end when you are no longer capable of even remaining upright, the indescribable pleasure churning at your core making it impossible for your spine not to arch, for your lips not to quiver and moan… And so at last, Maribelle grants you her loving mercy. A delicate kiss placed upon your forehead as her fingers tease your throbbing length and she whispers for you to finish… Your seed splattering against her stomach in brilliant, cathartic release, your tired frame collapsing forward into Maribelle’s embrace, her hand caressing your scalp as she praises you for the most splendid performance. ->**Manuela**<- The thought of it comes easily thanks to Manuela’s mature sensuality and that thrill which accompanies her position of authority. The idea of her experienced hands taking charge of your pleasure… The murmur of the closing day distant in the halls, your classroom emptied of its students, silent save for your haggard breath and Manuela’s girlish laughter. A wicked idea, she’d remark, to use the Monastery’s hallowed grounds for such a thing. And yet she would bend you across your desk all the same, her dress rustling as she affixes her old strap-on, glimmering in the dying light with its magical sheen. Ah, but Manuela has such love to give! The weight of her bust heavy against your back as she leans into you, her manicured fingers slipping beneath the desk to find your aching shaft, her own inanimate girth worked inside of you with one long, probing thrust… The former starlet’s dexterous fingers teasing at your base, jerking in time with every slam of her hips, hungry for your release. Patience, after all, is not one of Manuela’s many qualities. The sway of her hips against your ass frantic and ceaseless, as if she still fears that her prince charming might vanish at any moment. Manuela, so desperate to relish every moment of this love that you share giving herself over to reckless abandon. Her free hand finding yours upon the desk, her fingers entwining in your own as she buries her grinning face against your nape, whispers such clinging, adoring thoughts to you as her pace intensifies. The empty classroom filling with the damp sound of her thighs slapping against you, the creak of the desk and your panting, pleading moans… And then, the throb of ecstatic release overpowers you, your beloved Manuela’s hand guiding you over the edge; her length buried to the hilt inside your behind and her warm lips pressed against your throat… These reckless trysts more befitting a pair younger than either of you, and yet she would never surrender them for all the world. ->**Serra**<- Given Serra's… unique personality, one wonders if what ought to be an exploration of your own pleasure might not yet end up as further worshiping of her sublime grace. After all, you can hardly expect such a delicate girl to take the lead, now can you? The cleric relaxing lazily atop the bed, her gloved fingers patting your head patronizingly as you are made to lubricate her false shaft with your own mouth. Her shallow praise for your efforts nevertheless delighting your own aching need as you clamber atop her hips, careful not to rest your full weight upon your princess’s fragile frame. In the reverse position, of course, with your back to Serra’s smirking face. It would be simply awful if your seed were to make a mess of her gorgeous body, after all! No, instead, Serra would simply lie there as you rock yourself atop her expensive strap-on, her gloved finger teasing the length of your spine as you bury her girth within you. Her pretty laughter filling your senses as she demands to hear your praise, to hear you thank her for accommodating your utterly selfish request. A smug, satisfied hum her only recognition of your whimpering gratitude, the smallest buck of her hips the only reward for your endless, gushing celebration of her brilliance. Such small movements enough to alter the course of your pleasure, to have her shaft bulge against new, unfamiliar grooves of your insides, to cause the spark of your orgasm to explode throughout you…! Serra’s pretty laughter as you cum again and again a pleasant chorus to your own whimpering groans as you ride out your bliss, only to find yourself unable to bask for long. Your exhausted frame rolled onto its back and the cleric’s pale, naked form hovering over you. Her strap-on already discarded and her own drooling slit longing for its own reward… After all, you’d never dream of failing to repay the favor, now would you? ->**Silque**<- Silque has boundless love to give, so little wonder, then, that she would surely take such gentle care with you. Your larger frame bent forwards upon itself, your face smothered in the comfort of the pillows, arms locked around your legs, your behind presented readily to Silque’s fake phallus. How comforting it would feel to have Silque’s soft touch upon your rear, her magic easing the entry of her strap into your ass, the warmth of both swelling inside of you, smothering your every nerve in a gentle, relaxing warmth. Her movements slow and methodical, probing delicately at your depths, the bent of her instrument drawing brilliantly across your prostate, her warm voice encouraging you to lose yourself to the feeling. How wonderful such surrender would be. Your body turned over to Silque’s mothering grasp and treated with such delicate care, a chance to shed all your responsibilities and simply allow yourself to be vulnerable, to retreat into nothing but that slow, intimate pleasure… Her words praising you at every turn, repeating over and over the importance you hold not just to her but to all those you know. Her considered thrusts discovering quickly those weaknesses your body conceals, caressing again and again those points which drag the groans from your throat, her hands pulling your waist higher into the air so that she might press herself even deeper, so that she might hear her name drool from your lips with such pleading need. For, as she would repeat so lovingly to you, you deserve every care in the world, every grace Mother Mila can provide… You deserve to be loved, you deserve the ecstasy she is only too happy to provide. Silque’s tender affection still washing over you even as you succumb to the bliss erupting from your length, the gentle cleric persisting in her care until every drop of your desire has been spent, and whereupon she sets to cleaning you, to wrapping you in her arms, such a bashful, loving smile upon her face... ->**Severa**<- Would it take some convincing, perhaps, for Severa to finally relent and accept your desire to place yourself in her power? Or would her competitiveness rise to the fore, smirking as she warns you not to get addicted to her technique. Given her nature, perhaps the latter would merely be a screen for how anxious she might feel about betraying your expectations… You would find yourself on your back, a grinning Severa looking down upon you, your knees pushed towards your chest as she sits herself upon the reverse of your thighs, her girthy replica of a cock dripping its excessive lubrication down onto your belly… Yet another wordless indication of the embarrassed care she would be sure to show you. Her casual insults, her light mockery of your masculinity, openly belying the tenderness with which she would treat you; the slow, halting descent of her hips easing her shaft into you mere fractions at a time, until your own boiling length cannot help but quiver in desperate anticipation. Severa’s lips curling into another knowing smirk at that, her voice warmly belittling as she revels in how your body responds to her every movement, to how utterly vulnerable you are beneath her. And her name would groan constantly from your mouth, or else her deep, probing thrusts would halt. Her fingers playing idly at your erection, a single digit tracing each throbbing vein in turn until you relent, until you can only beg her to continue, until you are praising her endlessly. Such honest, heartfelt love bursting from your lips that a blushing Severa would have no choice but to turn to hammering your prostate, to turning your words into incoherent moans simply so as to escape her own embarrassment. Her palm wrapped tightly around your cock as she thrusts into you, ordering you, no, begging you to finish. To lose yourself at her hand and accept just how much she loves you. Severa’s delighted laughter as you finally cum surely the most beautiful sound you can imagine… ->**Camilla**<- Is there any heroine more suited for the task than that of your beautiful older sister? Camilla giggling softly as you reveal that which you desire from her, your face suddenly smothered in her bust as she holds you close, stroking your hair and reassuring you that she will always accommodate anything you ask of her… Can you picture how gorgeous she would look, clad only in her dark, seductive lingerie and that long, purple shaft jutting from her waist? Seeming so tremendous as it lifts in the air, larger than your own; Camilla gently assuring you that it will fit, that she would never do anything to discomfort you. Your ankles brought atop her shoulders as she stands astride the bed, your behind perched at its edge, Camilla’s fingers stroking your thighs as she expertly brings her strap-on to bear… An amused chuckle leaving her lips as she enters and you whimper quietly at the sensation, your sister encouraging you to moan aloud, to describe to her how good it feels to be taken, to be her adorable little plaything… Her experienced thrusts quickly finding your weaknesses, tormenting those sensitive grooves which make you writhe for her. Camilla’s hips shifting with practiced ease, forcing her girth ever deeper, dragging inch after inch along your bursting nerves, urging you to surrender to the feeling… To let your beloved older sister take care of you. She would be tireless. Thrusting over and over so as to milk you dry of every last shuddering orgasm, to leave you gasping in your afterglow, so utterly defenseless beneath her. Her lips kissing gently at your ankle, praising you for doing such a good job, for being such a good little brother… Before Camilla finally clambers atop of you upon the bed, taking your head into her breasts once more; her fingers gently caressing your hair as she tells you to sleep, assuring you that she’ll be there when you wake… And for all the years yet to come. ->**Celica**<- In embracing you Celica would find a rare moment of calm, a chance to drop that heavy responsibility she carries and indulge in this love that you share… A quiet, tender moment of intimacy that she would allow herself to selfishly draw out for as long as possible. Your breathing hot upon your pillow as you are laid face down upon the mattress, Celica’s weight shifting across her legs as she positions herself, as she carefully guides her modest simulacrum of a cock against your rear. Her palms caressing the length of your back, her silken hair tickling your shoulder blades as she leans down and kisses at your nape. Whispering such loving affection against your back as she thrusts, Celica taking care to elongate every inch of her, to ensure that you crave the sensation of her filling you all the more… It would be a chance for Celica to be truly selfish, to revel in this affection that she has for you, to bask in your adoration in turn. How wonderful would it feel to hear that noble Celica demand that you beg for her touch? Demand that you repeat your love for her over and over, how good it feels to have her shaft buried inside your ass, how desperate you are to finish, to cum for the woman that you cherish… Celica’s breath hot and rasping against your throat as she pounds against you, her breasts soft atop your back, her shuddering hips thrusting clumsily against your behind, driving her strap deeper still, curving it against your throbbing prostate… Your princess’s voice growling against your ear, ordering you to finish, to cum for her, to love her as she does you…! Ah, wouldn’t it just be so utterly cathartic? Your seed seeping into the sheets, Celica’s tired body resting atop your back, her delighted laughter hot against your neck. Such endearing bashfulness to her voice as she wonders aloud whether she made something of a fool out of herself. Her fingers gently entwining your own as you simply lay together, the beat of your hearts overlapping... ->**Cordelia & Olivia**<- How blessed one would have to be, to be loved equally by Olivia and Cordelia alike. The two women, supernaturally gifted in their talents and so clumsily bashful in their own endearing way, endeavoring to return the same measure of affection you so freely give. Cordelia seated beneath you, the ribbed girth of her strap pleasurably uncomfortable inside of you, Olivia’s fingers and tongue at your own quivering length, that intoxicating pleasure within and without pulling incoherent groans from your throat… And like a dance, the positions each melt into the next, your limbs a tangled, writhing mess and it becomes impossible to know where your body ends or where theirs begin… Your cock engulfed by Cordelia’s taut, seizing cunt and Olivia’s sublime thrusts gently teasing at your aching prostate… In the next moment, the knight’s genius tongue is drooling across your balls, Cordelia moaning in delight as Olivia thrusts into her from behind… Then it is your own length once more spreading apart Olivia’s tight, blushing sphincter, her body entwined with Cordelia’s as their lips devour one another… And always the same, gratifying end. The sweat of the three of you glistening against your skin, choking the air as you beg Cordelia, as you beg Olivia, to finish you. Your body bent over at the waist as your redheaded knight expertly guides your climax, every considered thrust of her hips sending another stunning jolt down your spine, your shameful groans swallowed whole by Olivia’s adoring lips upon your own. Coarse fingertips gripping your waist as Cordelia tells you to abandon yourself to the release, as Olivia’s flushed, embarrassed features hold your gaze and she whispers that small, single word you’ve been longing to hear… Ah, but it wouldn’t end with that, you realize. No, having captured the affection of both those tireless women, well, perhaps it would be best to decide on an excuse for your sudden limp ahead of time... ->**Peri**<- Is it blind affection or simple, depraved lust that leads to one willfully surrendering themselves to Peri’s whims? After all, you know full well that her twisted love for you could never be sated without at least some blood being drawn. Even at her lowest ebb, Peri making love to you would be a violent, exhausting affair. Her excited giggling so bizarrely charming as she wrestles you onto your front, the huge expanse of her extravagant bed easily accommodating your stricken form; Peri’s weight sat upon your back, the massive, ungainly bulk of her dildo resting ominously against your entrance. And even as the excessive lubricant soaks the sheets below, your heart pounds in trepidation. Peri’s cackling laughter at your ear once again as she warns you to relax, as she whispers to you that she is going to love you until you break. And break is surely the word. Peri’s bulbous girth stretching you wide, making your stomach churn with an uneasy fullness. Your childish lover’s teeth at your throat, sharp and hard and eager to draw blood. Her nails raking along your back as if desperate to carve her affection into you, to make it visible, eternal. You will whimper, of course, in both pain and ecstasy. Peri responding in kind, kissing madly at where she marks you, berating and adoring in the same breath but her hips never ceasing even as your belly distorts. Crushed into the mattress merely breathing would be a luxury, Peri’s fist seizing your hair, wrenching you back by the neck as she shifts her hips and you forget your very name for a few glorious, blinding seconds. As you scream wordlessly and your cock spurts into the sheets, there is nothing but the joy and the pain and that deranged feeling of love engulfing you… And then, the tears. Peri cuddling you from behind, mumbling her apologies, begging you not to leave her alone as she kisses at your wounds, refusing to let go of you… Hugging you tight until you both collapse into an exhausted, peaceful dream… ->**Shamir**<- There’s certainly something to be said for the experienced woman. Shamir’s characteristic composure so warmly reassuring as she shifts upon her knees behind you, instructing you to grasp the headboard, to loosen your spine, to relax yourself all the way down to your ass... An amused laugh to her lips as she watches you shudder when her cool, lubricated shaft first presses against your behind… The smooth of her glove trailing down your back as she laughs again, telling you to take it like the big boy that you are, to take every last inch of her just how you want… For Shamir knows her way around the human body, and not simply for the application of violence. Her athletic hips moving with deliberate, practiced ease, burying her shaft deep inside of you; her fast, probing thrusts making your belly ache with such pleasurable fullness, each followed in turn by the slow, torturous draw of her length along the aching need of your prostate… Her gloved fingers coiled around your throbbing erection, dexterously teasing your cock in time with her every movement, making your entire body tremble in pleasure. Shamir’s breath hot against your nape as she leans her weight onto your back, breasts pushed against you, her plain, dispassionate tone enthralling in its composure as she tells you to finish, to lose yourself into her hand… An impressed hum leaving her lips as your seed coats her glove and the sheets, your tired body barely supporting her weight as you grip the headboard for dear life. Only, her phallus never leaves your rear. Instead, you feel her hips begin to sway once more, her fingers caressing your throbbing belly, her teeth nipping against your ear as she calmly tells you that you’ll be going several times over yet. That she’ll be having you cum at least half a dozen times more. She made a wager with Catherine, after all. ->**Severa & Lucina**<- Would a practiced facade of bravery or the pair’s awkwardness rise to the fore were you to submit yourself so happily to their hands, I wonder? No doubt Severa would consider it a competition of sorts regardless. Her hasty, clumsy thrusts into your behind haphazard in their aim, drawing such longing groans from your throat as you are left unable to anticipate where that next gouging caress of your walls might appear. Severa’s fragile ego nursed by your obvious delight, her voice pouring such loving scorn onto you as she grips your waist tighter and exhausts herself in pursuit of your release. As all the while Lucina blushes anxiously down at you, the mark in her eye gleaming prettily as she holds your gaze, the modest length of her azure strap held within your throat. Her fingers gently stroking the hair from your face, resting atop your scalp, unsure of the strength with which she should hold you. Such loving affection falling from Lucina’s mouth so as to soothe the scald of Severa’s playful mockery, the sight of you held between both their lengths delighting something deep within her, a charming flush to her cheeks as her breath comes long and rasping… They would make such a pair with you buried between them. Severa goading her princess on to use you like you crave, Lucina obliging in turn with a small, deliberate shift of her hips at first… The choked, longing splutter from your throat only filling her with newfound confidence, until soon you find yourself at the mercy of both your handsome, doting lovers. Lucina’s mess of blue hair rough against your nose, her phallus filling your throat with such uncomfortable, delightful fullness as Severa’s own girth slams against your prostate, her fingers digging into your waist as if terrified to release you for even a moment… And when you do, finally, find that glorious release, they reach it with you, your bodies a mess of aching limbs as you collapse into one another. A long, adoring future laid out before you… ->**Citrinne**<- Being pegged by Citrinne would surely be a languid and luxurious affair. A slow, romantic act meant only to round off an entire day dedicated to indulging in each other’s presence. An expensive dinner followed by a long, rich bath together; Citrinne left smelling of the most wondrous scents as she stands before you, her skin still glistening with damp, her hair glittering in the low light as she sheds her clothes to reveal that ornate phallus proudly erect in its harness. The sheets of your bed comfortable upon your skin as she gently pushes you onto your front, your waist bent across the edge of the mattress. Her delicate fingers probing your sphincter, Citrinne laughing musically as you whimper at her delicate touch and the feel of her rich lube wetting your muscle. The smell of her hair once more filling your senses as her thin frame presses against the broad of your back, her painted lips at your throat whispering such loving praise as her girth slowly enters your behind… Yes, nothing but endless, lavishing praise hot against your ear as Citrinne’s short, awkward thrusts roll across your sensitive insides, eventually finding that spot that makes you shudder and groan… Over and over she whispers to you, telling you to forget everything that worries you. That here, in her arms, she will never allow anything to befall you. Her thin, manicured fingers soon finding your cock, urging your boiling climax through your length in their smooth, lingering strokes as her own shaft continues to press against your prostate. Citrinne’s mouth kissed against your nape as she commands you to finish, to lose yourself for her, to let her take care of everything that you need… Such pretty gasps of delight tumbling against your throat as you finally finish, coating her noble palms in your thick, clinging seed. Her phallus left sheathed inside of you as Citrinne simply relaxes into your back, continuing to whisper her love as she revels in your warmth… ->**Rhea**<- The thought alone is divine, isn’t it? That gorgeous, mature form gleaming in the light as Rhea lets her attire cascade to the ground, a warm, tender smile to her lips as she presents to you that tremendous phallus fastened between her legs. Ah, what a thrill it would be to hear her command you then! The stern, loving voice of the Archbishop that accepts no refusal… A strength to her limbs utterly belied by her haunting beauty… A simple hand all she needs to trap you still upon her soft, broad bed, to press powerfully down upon your back as the other, damp with lubricant, sees to readying your hole… Just imagine it. Her gentle, motherly voice warm against your nape, Rhea’s long hair tickling your spine as she clambers atop you… The heavy weight of her breasts sinking upon your back, her embarrassed blush heard in her faltering stutter as she asks whether you feel suitably prepared, the facade of domineering confidence she attempts to hold undermined by her swift, anxious concern for your every gasp… But for all her gentleness, the rageful heart of a warrior still lurks deep within her. Who is to say that Seiros would not appear once more above you in these moments, the mask of an Archbishop discarded in favor of raw, aching need as she revels in your powerlessness beneath her. Those slow, probing thrusts replaced with deep, pounding lust as Seiros pants hungrily against your neck, teeth sharp upon your throat as she praises you over and over for taking her, for melting for her, for allowing her to possess you, love you, ruin you…! So many long years of loneliness worked out in every thrust of Rhea’s hips, the damp, clapping sound of flesh all but lost in the intimacy of your groans, your pleas for more met with her lips wet and searching against your skin, the headboard cracking as her fingers cling to it in desperation, a desperation to return even a measure of the love you have given her, the love she cherishes more dearly than anything…