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Kinktober 2019

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            “You are truly perverse.”

            Sothis’ words ring in Byleth’s ears, though she finds herself shrugging them off with familiarity. After years of hearing Sothis, and now months of hearing her judgement specifically, Byleth’s grown used to the grumbling goddess, irritation palpable as she recedes from yet another perverse scene.

            Well, to be fair, she’s not wrong.

            The other Byleth, her brother, is not so lucky, visibly flinching at the scolding. Byleth could scoff at his reaction, knowing that he’s never been quite as good at taking critism as her—something Jeralt had quickly realized and laughed over. He squirms now in place, eyes flickering from the ground to Byleth, uncertain. She grins.


            Byleth would never consider herself something so arbitrary in the past, but there’s few other words to describe the scene before her.

            Edelgard makes a pretty picture as she moans, palming one hand on her breasts, rocking herself against Byleth’s muscular thigh. Her hair is loose of those pesky horns and buns she usually adorns in combat, now nude of all armor, fabric, just her in the nude, hips trembling as she grinds her clit down against Byleth’s tights. Her eyes, however, are stuck on the three other members in the room.

            Claude is awfully loud like this, his moans high and breathless as his ass shakes where it rests on Dimitri’s face, the blonde suckling, kissing and nipping along the skin as though starved. He must be, truly, frustrated, dick red and needy, ring restricting him from cumming anytime soon. Byleth, her brother, pants from his position on Dimitri’s stomach, his ass pressed against his dick, tongue exploring Claude’s mouth, wet noises and drool spilling from their union. His hands pinch and pull at Claude’s nipples, surprisingly pierced and awfully pretty on his dark skin, drawing another moan from Claude’s lips, kissed red and raw.

            Byleth wants to pull him to the floor, make Claude kiss at her clit, tongue lapping along her cunt. He’s got one of the best mouths in the room, a fact they’re all properly aware of at this point—as though hearing her thoughts, Claude’s eyes flicker to her, lidded, teasing.

            Her hands tighten their grip on Edelgard’s wrists, drawing her empress’ eyes back to her.

            “Edel,” Byleth warns, and then she’s swallowing Edelgard up, tongue and teeth gnashing at her lips. Edelgard groans, shivering, her thighs tightening around Byleth’s as her hips pick up speed. She’s wet, so fucking wet, from Byleth fingering her from the moment they entered the room, forcing Edelgard’s leg up as she punched yelps and screams from her empress. Her brother had watched, knowing that Edelgard got all the needier with eyes on her, cunt slick against Byleth’s fingers.

            “Byleth, Byleth, professor,” Edelgard sings, truly a beauty, as her hips falter in rhythm. A shout is strangled out of her when Byleth presses her fingers against her clit, drawing small circles on the sensitive nub, forcing shivers to wrack her delicate frame. Edelgard’s eyes flicker, blinking fast as pleasure mounts within her, threatening her to cum again on Byleth’s fingers.

            “Are you going to cum again, princess?” What could be interpreted as a gentle pet name comes out sneering, Byleth biting at Edelgard’s lips. She’s always meaner, a little rougher, when they get all together like this, three royal members and their old professors—more like three dogs in heat and their owners. The comparison draws a smirk on Byleth’s face as she slides two fingers back into Edelgard’s cunt, drawing a high sigh building into shriek.

            “Byleth, wait, oh!” Edelgard’s words are lost in a scream as her back arches, vagina clenching down onto Byleth’s fingers. Her eyes water, cheeks a brilliant pink against her pale skin, and Byleth leans down to take one of her breasts into her mouth, biting angrily at the flesh. It draws blood, her teeth an indentation into the skin, and Byleth laps at the red beginning to pool at the surface as Edelgard shakes above her.

            “How mean.” Byleth’s eyes snap to Claude, his voice floating over as he sighs, arms locked around her twin’s neck, eyes twinkling. Dimitri has obviously not done a thorough enough job if Claude’s still able to speak coherent sentences, though the moans that spill from his mouth speak to how deeply Dimitri’s tongue has pressed into him. “Princess even asked you to wait.”

            Byleth grunts, his fingers twisting Claude’s nipple, dragging his teeth along his exposed nape. Claude sighs, pleasant, smug, as his hand drags Byleth by the hair, pressing kisses against the shell of his ear. It’s enough to draw a shaking groan from Byleth, though not loud enough to overcome the warbling screams from Edelgard.

            Her majesty’s white hair spills so delicately over her shoulders, sticky with sweat to the skin. She peers upward at Byleth, uncertain, shaking. The temptation to wring her dry with another orgasm following the other so soon is itching at Byleth, and yet, her curiosity rings stronger. Even within the recess of her mind, she can hear Sothis’ rumbling confusion, her twin’s matching. Byleth had chosen not to discuss this with either of them.

            Not even with Edelgard herself.

            “Edelgard,” she is unable to quell the smirk tugging so at her lips. Edelgard’s breaths are shaky, her eyes unsteady as they focus on Byleth’s moving mouth. Even so, she nods. “Edelgard, do you trust me?”

            “Huh? O-Of course I do, Byleth!” Confusion flickers across Edelgard’s face, followed quickly by uncertainty, and, perhaps most important of all, heat. This wouldn’t be the first time Byleth’s pulled a trick out during sex, and it would certainly not be the last. As joyful as it is to wring patient moans and gasps from Edelgard during their usual bedding, Byleth finds it much, much more exciting to try something new.

            Even if that something new is picking up Edelgard by her thighs, feeling her slick dripping from her cunt down onto Byleth’s fingers, and walking to the door. With a careful hand maneuvering Edelgard’s weight, eyes still on her beloved princess, she pries the door open, and steps out.

            “Byleth?” Her twin shouts, followed quickly by Claude’s laughter. She shoots a smirk at them both, turning back to Edelgard, kissing her softly on the lips. Just one step out of the door, and Edelgard’s already shaking, cunt unbelievably wet against Byleth’s fingers. Delicious.

            “Byleth, what…?” Edelgard’s voice is high, nervous, excited. She’s figuring it out, piecing together what clicked for Byleth and Claude just a moment before. Byleth could hold her in place, rock her against her fingers as her mind moves, whirring, trembling.

            Instead, she drops Edelgard to the ground, and shuts the door behind her.

            “Byleth!” Her brother’s scolding is lost on deaf ears, and Byleth grins as she shimmies to the bed. Claude’s mouth is quirked upward in amusement, clearly intrigued by her experiment, and she pushes past her twin to grasp at his face, pulling him forward to bite at his lips. He moans, relenting, easy, always so pliable under her touch. He bows to her faster than to anyone else, and she relishes in the victory.

            Even more so when she reaches down to pinch at his cock, feeling it jump at the sensation.

            “I want to fuck you,” she purrs. Claude laughs, red in the cheeks, eyes heavy as he rolls his hips on Dimitri’s face. Nearly a river of precum and spit have spilled down Dimitri’s chin, pooling onto his neck and below him on the bed, the sight tempting Byleth to sit on him as well, pry his tired jaw open to eat her out as well. But, well, she’s always been a bit kinder to Dimitri, and she settles on grabbing Claude’s ass instead, forcing him up.

            “Byleth.” Testy, testy. Her brother raises an eyebrow at her, his cock red and weeping. Pity might pull at her strings if he weren’t her brother; instead, her smirk only widens, teeth flashing as she pulls Claude fully off Dimitri’s tongue.

            The whine from Dimitri is lovely, his eye flickering to her uncertainly. As fond as she is for him, or perhaps as a result of it, he’s never really had to deal with her insatiable hungry and curiosity in bed. Well, unfortunately for him, he had to be sandwiches between the person she loves messing with the most, her brother, and the darling devil in her arms who she so lovingly loves to fuck silly.

            Speaking of, Claude presses his teeth against her neck, eyebrows drawn up, teasing. She grins.

            So much fun.

            “Dimitri,” sing-song, dangerous. He swallows at her call. “You did such a good job. Don’t you think so, Byleth?” Her brother raises a brow at her, clearly unimpressed, though his hard cock says otherwise. It’s simple enough to drag Claude to the side, letting her brother crawl close to Dimitri’s trembling form.

            “Dimitri,” Byleth murmurs, pressing a kiss against his majesty’s lips. Always so soft and sweet, that one, so much so that Byleth can hardly believe that they’re siblings, much less twins. “Can I fuck you?”

            “Cute.” Claude grins into Byleth’s shoulder, a hand slipping down to touch her through her shorts. Cheeky, this one, and she slaps his hand away, her other smacking his ass. He startles forward, catching himself onto the mattress, just to line himself up with Dimitri’s raised hips, needy dick leaking around the ring holding his climax hostage.

            “Dimitri, so good,” Byleth sighs as he slides into Dimitri’s waiting ass, eyes squeezed shut from how tight Dimitri is. Dimitri grunts, hands curling into the blankets beneath them, undoubtedly tearing holes into yet another poor scrap of cloth. Slow, centimeter by centimeter, Byleth sinks into his greedy hole, spasming around his length. Dimitri keens, high, loud, a near whistle in the air as his back bows from the pressure pressing inside of him.

            He makes a lovely sight like this, jaw loose and wet from eating Claude out, nipples pink and splattered with bite and nail marks, courtesy of Byleth when he had entered the door. Sweet as she teases her twin for, she isn’t the only one who gets a little crueler when they’re all together.

            It’s just a little competition, a little fun. Made even more so when she slaps Claude’s ass again, shit-eating grin on her face.

            “Why don’t you pay him back for getting you prepped?” Realization flickers in Claude’s eyes, no doubt labeling her as cruel for the idea, though the smirk on his face indicates otherwise. It’s with a slow crawl and unnecessary swing of his hips that he makes his way over to Dimitri’s panting form.

            “Hey, Dimi,” Claude calls. Dimitri’s eye quivers, unsteady as it turns to his red cock to Claude’s face, looming overhead. “Want to suck you off, is that okay?”

            Both Byleth and Dimitri groan at the prospect, the former rutting his hips just slightly against Dimitri. Dimitri yelps at the sensation, arm locking, mouth shaking as spit pools at his lips. Gentle, always so gentle, Byleth wraps his arms around Dimitri’s waists, angling him to press further into him. Dimitri groans, breath forced out of him with every movement, twitching and clenching.

            When Claude presses his lips against his cock, he shouts.

            “Tha-That’s!” His word is lost in a groan behind another thrust, Byleth mouthing along his skin. Dimitri’s back arches, powerful thighs shaking as he raises his hips, filling himself up with Byleth’s lengths. “Byleth, you’re, you’re—uh!”

            “Who, me?” Byleth sing-songs, prompting a roll of eyes from her twin. His hips snap forward twice in succession, drawing another mewling sigh from Dimitri turned into a pitched shout from Claude finally, properly slipping him into his mouth. Byleth’s hands trail up from his waist back to his nipples, scratching again at the skin, pinching one and admiring how well it pulls under his touch, pink, greedy.

            When he releases, letting it snap back against Dimitri’s skin, the moan echoing from Dimitri’s mouth is heavenly. Byleth wants to eat him up. It must be his sister’s influence, judging from the heated grin stretched on her face as she fixes the strap on tied to her waist. Shorts and tights off, though, he notes, she didn’t bother removing her boots. His thoughts are interrupted by Dimitri suddenly clenching down on him, hard, grinding his ass against his thighs, moaning.

            “Don’t get distracted,” Byleth scolds her brother. He would probably glare at her if he wasn’t occupied with properly fucking Dimitri again, pinching and pulling at his skin. She shifts back onto the bed, making it creak under their weight, fingers digging into Claude’s thighs.

            Wonderfully obedient, his hips raise in return. Clearly Dimitri did a fantastic job eating him out, his hole gaping wet and needy, twitching as she spits on it. Claude jerks, his gasp a vibration that travels up Dimitri, pulling another groan from the prince’s mouth. Byleth could laugh, shoving two fingers into Claude without any resistance, scissoring and crooking them. His hips startle and shake around her, pulling forward, though her arm grasps hard at his thighs and pulls him sharp against her fingers. This time she can hear his gasp, nearly pulled off Dimitri’s dick, hitting him in the cheek.

            “Please, please, please,” Dimitri whines, voice high as Byleth begins to pick up actual speed, thrusting deep within him. Claude resumes suckling at his cock, tongue running over the sensitive head, before taking him back in fully until Dimitri comes to rest at the back of his throat. Neat trick, that one, made ever more pleasurable with Claude’s hands sliding from Dimitri’s balls back to his greedy hole, sliding one along Byleth’s dick, prompting heady groans form them both. Dimitri jerks, eyes slipping shut as he shouts.

            “So good for us, Dimitri.” Byleth would bet that he would have come from that, if not for the cock ring she slipped around him earlier. She pulls her fingers out from Claude, wet with spit and lube, before lining herself up at his entrance. She waits, just her tip barely pressing into him, until his head angles her way, a brow raised.

            Get on with it. She sneers.

            “Fuck!” Claude’s shout is drowned out as he slams against Dimitri’s hips, choking, sputtering, Dimitri well and truly buried into his throat as deeply as Byleth in him. Byleth could cackle, vicious, cruel, as she snaps his hips back onto the strap, pushing back in relentlessly. Not a moment to adjust, nor a moment to rest. Her hands pinch at his ass, bouncy, fruitful, before raising one arm and spanking it. Claude groans, heavy, shaking arms steadying him back before her hand comes back down, choking him further onto Dimitri. It pries groans from all the males on the bed, needy, a beautiful chain reaction, sparking delicious warmth in Byleth as she stares down at them.

            “Please, oh, Byleth, Byleth, Claude, Byleth,” Dimitri begs. His head bows as Byleth suckles and bites on his shoulder, a trail of spit from his collar bone to his underarm, hands scratching and tugging at every centimeter of skin, leaving angry red lines in his wake. His tongue pokes out of his open mouth, unable to close from the line of needy pants and begging, hips twitching with every thrust of Byleth’s dick, every swirl of Claude’s tongue. The pressing of Claude’s finger, one, two, scissoring against his sensitive entrance makes his vision hazy.

            “Hmm, I don’t know, Byleth. Should we let him cum?” Byleth throws her head back in laughter at her twin’s words. Clearly, she’s been a bad influence on him, if he’s refusing to relent on punching noises out of Dimitri with every thrust. She pulls Claude flush to her form, his ass an angry red from her spanking, and there’s little doubt in her mind from his shaking shoulders that he’s started to cry.

            “I don’t know, Byleth. He should wait for Claude, shouldn’t he, since he was supposed to properly eat Claude out.” Dimitri sobs at the words, hands tightening in the sheets, truly dragging holes into the surface. Her twin hums, considering, adjusting himself to better sit under Dimitri, thrusting upward. He must have hit something, based off the shout and crumpled noise from Dimitri, the noise of torn fabric echoing in the room.

            “Then you’d better fuck him properly,” Byleth scolds, eying his sister. She rolls her eyes, slipping her hands under Claude to pinch at his skin, the piercings hanging from his nipples. He moans, drawing another sob from Dimitri, as she smacks against him, strap digging deliciously into his greedy hole.

            “Aren’t I? Come on, now, Claude, aren’t I fucking you so well?” She pulls at the rings, slides her hands downward, nails dragging along his skin. Her hips straighten, angry, powerful, and when she slams in him again the sob comes from him and Dimitri both.

            “Please, I, please, ha, hah, plea—ah” Dimitri sobs, truly lost for words, thighs twitching around Claude’s head. Byleth grapples with his blonde hair, snapping his head back, capturing his words in a heated kiss that’s all teeth. His other hand comes down to bury itself in Claude’s hair, pulling, drawing a hiss that quickly descends into a breathless moan from Byleth crooking herself just right.

            “Look,” she purrs, digging her nails in the small of Claude’s back, “at how well you take me. Some king you are,” her hips thrust in with quick succession, making Claude arch, red flushed from his ears to his shoulders, “taking your professor so well. Look at how,” she grunts, pulling back before snapping forward hard enough to force Claude further onto Dimitri’s cock, a spew of coughs interrupting his stream of moans, “fucking greedy your hole is.”

            “What are you— a king or a whore?” The words are the final straw, Claude’s shout lost against Dimitri’s sobbing, his shoulders tight as orgasm wracks his body. Relentless, Byleth continues thrusting against him, fucking him against Dimitri.

            “So mean,” Byleth laughs, though his eyes are heavy on his sister as his hips pound into Dimitri. Clearly he hasn’t learned enough from her, because his hand trails down to Dimitri’s length, pressing down on the clasp of the cock ring. It pops open, loose.

            “I!” Dimitri’s warning is short, warbling, before his eyes crane shut, jaw shaking as he finally, finally, makes it to orgasm. Byleth continues rocking against him, hand palming his quivering form, kissing Dimitri’s shoulders and neck as he watches him cum into and against Claude’s face, cum and spit spilling from the other’s mouth.

            “You’re too nice,” Byleth chastises, though her tone is soft, kinder, as she pulls out of Claude. His legs, without her hands to steady him, collapse against the bed, knees bowed and head slipping off Dimitri’s dick. From here, she can properly see his face, tears and spit and snot dribbling down to mix with the streaks of semen on his face, overflowing. He’s panting, eyes blown wide, tongue poking out of his mouth. She swallows.

            “Edelgard,” Byleth reminds her, brow raised, arm careful to balance Dimitri’s exhausted form on his lap. She grins, razor sharp teeth, spinning from her place on the bed. With a few simple snaps, she slides the strap off her form, letting it drop to the floor behind her.

            Goddess, she has the best ideas.

            Edelgard is, surprisingly, not right in front of the door. Or, perhaps, not so surprisingly, as she’s hiding behind a potted plant two steps down. It’s pretty much a piss-poor disguise, however, because Byleth can pretty much see her entire form.

            Including her dripping puss, leaking enough to pool on the floor under her.

            “B-Byleth?” And oh, her voice trembles as her eyes lock onto Byleth, every breath a pant. It’s incredibly tempting to take her here and now, just fuck into her with her strap before cleaning her up with Byleth’s tongue, just to draw climax after climax from Edelgard’s form.

            But, well, she’s a little mean.

            “Edelgard,” her intentions must be laughingly obvious, from the way Edelgard’s breath hitches, arms crossing before her chest, bare protection. “Come here.”

            Edelgard stands, careful, wobbling, a line of slick from her vagina dripping down her thighs. Byleth licks her lips, hungry, wanting. She could be nice, just this once.

            “Byleth?” Oh, but how pretty Edelgard sounds, obedient like this.

            Byleth places her hands on her hips, still at the border of the door. Here, anyone can see them, stumble upon them, though she doubts it if no one’s come already from the volume of Dimitri and Claude earlier. Their friends had learned quite a bit ago to avoid this certain section when reunions were scheduled.

            That doesn’t mean they don’t risk an uninformed servant or two from stumbling in, and it’s that exact risk that makes Byleth all the more eager to slide her leg forward, boot a clack on the ground. Edelgard looks at her, eyes flickering between Byleth’s lips and her foot, uncertain.

            “If you want to come in,” and she does, she must, the trembling of her hips, “clean me up, first.”

            Realization finally comes to light in Edelgard’s eyes, and she flushes deep, shame and curiosity and heat warming her cheeks. It isn’t the first, nor will it be the last, that Byleth has had her empress do something utterly filthy, shameful, for the joyful humiliation of knowing the empress has done it. That Edelgard, for all her glory, for all her power, is just another horny human, descending onto her hands and knees, tongue licking the dirty sides of Byleth’s boot.

            The sight makes her shiver. She should get Claude and Dimitri to do the same.

            “Do a good job,” Byleth reminds her, and Edelgard moans, shoulders shaking as she licks a stripe from Byleth’s sole to the top of her boot. Her head cranes upward, eyes pleading, obedient, as she returns to lick along the bottom of Byleth’s boots. Unknown to her, Byleth’s cleaned her shoes earlier the day before, not wanting to risk any unknowns into any of her lover’s mouths. Still, a day of walking within castle grounds has made them a little dirtier, a bit dustier, and it’s a delightful sight to see Edelgard lap at her boots regardless.

            Her thighs tremble as she crawls closer, spit dribbling along the floor to the other boot. Byleth moans, drinking the view in, as Edelgard’s hair pools around her head. It’s tempting to raise one foot and step on her pretty locks, drag dirt and mud into her white hair, just to see her properly messed up. Dirty.

            “What a filthy empress.”

            Edelgard moans at the words. Her mouth begins to falter, tongue beginning to tire and dry from the repetitive movements, and Byleth finally takes a step back. Edelgard falls forward, surprise evident on her face from the early retreat, but, well, Byleth’s been wet enough to fill a river from playing with Claude and Dimitri, and she hasn’t been properly satisfied yet.

            “Why don’t you come in, princess?” Edelgard’s eyes are on the ground as she crawls in, careful, allowing Byleth’s eyes to sweep a view of her dripping puss, slick from her vagina to her knees. It isn’t until Edelgard is fully in that Byleth tugs the door shut, glancing over to the bed.

            “What, really?” She groans. Byleth stares back at her, unimpressed, his dick clearly spent at some point when she left the room. Claude and Dimitri rest on the bed besides him, now wiped clean from cum and spit and blood, balled up rags resting on the floor besides them. Dimitri’s eyes are closed, surely asleep from exhaustion from being on the edge for so long, though Claude pries his open to glance at Byleth.

            When he raises his neck enough to peer at Edelgard, surprise flickering on his face, he laughs. His throat is hoarse, fucked well by Dimitri, and perhaps her brother, falling back onto the bed.

            “They offered,” Byleth responds, shrugging. Well, clearly she was half right, though she really should have guessed that Dimitri would want to finish her brother off. Ridiculously responsible, even in bed.

            “Well,” she sighs, plan only partly dented in, “guess it’s you and me, Edelgard.” Hunger drops her voice low, drawing a shiver from Edelgard. Byleth steps closer, kneeling to take Edelgard into her arms. Her empress squeaks, arms tightening onto Byleth, as Byleth lifts Edelgard from the floor and drops her onto the bed. Dimitri groans, hips shifting, making room for them.

            “B-Byleth?” Byleth smirks, climbing on top of Edelgard, letting her vagina hang overhead. She had intended on having Byleth fuck Edelgard while she ate her out, but well, she could still do half of it. Edelgard’s stammering words are quickly cut off by Byleth sitting on her face, moaning softly, grinding down.

            It’s pathetically easy to insert two fingers into Edelgard, wet as she is. Byleth licks a stripe along her lips, gaining a moan that vibrates through her own cunt. She grins, pressing her tongue insistently against Edelgard, fingering beginning to scissor and curl. Edelgard gasps, thighs tightening, her own mouth panting warm breaths against Byleth, tongue entering Byleth’s puss.

            Goddess, Byleth really does have the best ideas.

            Edelgard climaxes within a matter of minutes, already wet and needy from being played with prior to being placed outside. Byleth pulls screams from her highness as her lips come to suck on Edelgard’s clit, fingers roughly pushing inside her. Edelgard’s teeth brush against her clit, just slightly, and Byleth seizes, feeling herself drip as warmth curdles in her stomach. Three fingers pry her open, and she pants, bouncing against Edelgard’s face, her hand slipping down to pinch at her clit. She orgasms with a grunt, hips squeezing Edelgard, a moan vibrating along Edelgard’s legs.

            “Fuck,” Byleth pants as the bed creaks under her, world dimming as her limbs begin to regain feeling. She rises to her knees, aware of Edelgard’s slick on her face, leaving wet spots on the bed. She turns, moving to the side, only for Byleth to hand her a rag.

            “Clean yourself up,” he chides, though grinning. She laughs, hearing her voice a little hoarse, and paws at herself with the rag with two sweeps before returning to Edelgard’s tired form. Her highness breathes deeply, eyes barely open, entire lower body wet with fluid. Byleth is careful to wipe at her face first before moving down, drawing soft moans and trembling from Edelgard at the sensation.

            They are quiet for a moment, just Byleth finishing her cleaning, balling the rag up to join the others on the floor. She breaths, feeling blissful soreness pull at her muscles, knowing that she is at peace.

            “I’m so fucking tired.”

            “Same.” “Same.”

            Her brother cracks first, chortling, before she joins, followed by weak chuckles and groans from the lords still on the bed. Claude, the prompter of the conversation, rolls over onto Dimitri, burying his head against his nape. Edelgard sighs, clawing her way up into Dimitri’s other arm, tucking herself securely at his side. By the time both Byleths quiet, they are together, breathing softly.

            They share a smile, and in the recesses of their mind, even Sothis hums her pleasure.