Corrupted Holy Maiden’s Holy Night of Corrupted Holies {lemon}

[Alternative Ice]

Obviously the next step is a threesome.

good job irun

[JetKinen]

Good pair of fics.

It's a real dumb question, but in the ending of the first fic, is Jeanne D'Arc Alter Santa Lily implying she was going to have sex with Saber Gilles?

[ItsaRandomUsername]

Good pair of fics.

It's a real dumb question, but in the ending of the first fic, is Jeanne D'Arc Alter Santa Lily implying she was going to have sex with Saber Gilles?

That was supposed to be the original sequel hook, a sort of compare & contrast with Jalter and Caster Gilles, but then the Xmas 2016 event happened and her personality was different enough from what I expected (i.e. not enough KugiRie petite-tsun-esque dickstomping/what have you) that I'd have to spend too much time retooling it and I wouldn't've been able to meet the 12/25/16 deadline like that, so I fell back on a different scenario.

I'm trash.

Now, it's either a red herring, or happens off-screen (at least, for now). It's whatever the reader prefers, Death of the Author and all that.

Anyway, thanks for enjoying.

[ItsaRandomUsername]

At first I was peer-pressured into making this.
Then, I was made an offer I couldn't refuse, and, welp, here we are now.
a.k.a This was commissioned, I guess I'm doing commissions now


Disclaimer:
The following story contains adult material. Fate/Grand Order and its related concepts and ideas are the intellectual properties of Kinoko Nasu, Type-MOON, Notes Ltd., Aniplex, DelightWorks, and other respective rights holders. This story is written solely for the purpose of entertainment, and not for any sort of monetary profit. If anything, consider this free advertising.

---

Trinity Limit

"Shan shan shaan, shan shan shaan, shan shan shan, sha-shaan~!"

Humming the tune to a song she couldn't remember the lyrics to, Jeanne d'Arc Alter Santa Lily Lancer trotted through the bustling halls of Chaldea with a bubbly bounce in her boots and a festive mug full of steaming gingerbread cocoa. Her jingle-bells did their jingle-thing with each of her springy steps.

"Hello!"
"Hello, as well!" she replied.

"Oh, hello!"
"Hello to you, too!" she glowed.

"Good morning, little lady!"
"It's a GREAT morning!" she beamed.

From mighty Servants to humble Chaldean technicians, she spread joy just by being. Holiday cheer followed her where she went. Now more than ever she cut a decisively mascot-like picture. She was like a puppy, small and cute and fluffy and said puppy would also surely wear a garish but charming yuletide sweater as it scampered through the corridors with its pitter-patter of little puppy feet. The kind of thing you'd take a picture of, slap it in a Christmas card and mail that back to the folks at home.

"Christmas in July, huh, Lilansa?"
"Yup! Christmas is the strongest holiday ever!"

As far as those matters concerned her, indeed it was. In Lilansa's presence --joyeux noël-- was no more than a few friendly words away. Unlike the other festively themed Servant, the Santa-centric alter ego of Artoria Alter, her holiday fixation was genuine, pure, and delusional in the innocent ways that only a child could wield. Chaldea was a high-anxiety work environment. The commencement and conclusion of each Order was beyond stressful. Each new singularity preceded wonder, and dread, and called for utterly flexible thinking. Even the downtimes involved butting heads with humanity's greatest forces of personality. Each day was a challenge. No one was ever paid enough for such unprecedented and dangerous work.

Really, it was a small wonder that the smallest of the Jeanne d'Arcs was such a heartwarmer. It was hard not to smile around the quirky little snowflake.

"Hey. Starbucks. What the hell're you so happy for?"

--There was one proverbial Grinch here; one of those forces of personality wouldn't smile at the sight of the tiny Santa. In fact, her mood took a turn for the worse.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter asked a harsh question in a harsh voice. She smacked the warm beverage straight from Lilansa's hands. Lilansa gave a helpless squeak as it splashed all over the floor, and the mug shattered into dozens of pieces of fragmentary ceramic. As soon as it fell apart it disintegrated from the world in a shower of feeble light, drink and vessel both.

The Christmas magic, magic of the strongest holiday, was broken like a cheap spell.

Tears started to well up in her wide, golden eyes as she glared at her elder. "Sister...!"

"Hey! I asked you a question, brat. What the hell're you so happy for?" The aggressive Alter was merciless, and immune to the other Alter's joyful atmosphere. The bigger 'sister' grabbed Lilansa by the collar of the girl's capelet and smacked her across her scalp with a gauntleted backhand. It sounded like two pots banging together, and, to Lilansa, her head might as well have been inside one of those same pots. Her clock was cleaned and she reeled. The blow made her grunt. That egged on the black saint. Alter struck Lilansa again, and this time with the black leather of her palm, and a sound like a whip's crack echoed through the hall. "Huh?!"

Beforehand, Jeanne Alter had tended to merely sulk and stew in her Santa self's presence. Antagonism was new. Lilansa didn't like it. "Kn-Knock it off, you jerk!" Lilansa wasn't as strong as Alter, but she was just as fast, and swung her arms around, trying to deflect any more of those hammerblows, trying to get in a good hit on her shrew of a sibling. "STOP!"

" 'Ooh, Merry Christmas! I'm Jeanne d'Whatever! Ho ho ho!' You're a 'ho' alright, you little slut!" Clenching her jaw, Alter's eyes narrowed in anger, visceral and raw and fiery and ready to melt the snowier Jeanne into nothing. "He's MINE!"

"I said STOP!" cried Lilansa, and, with a keynote of desperate viciousness, she grabbed at Alter's breasts through her top and squeezed like she was trying to pop it. Furious, and getting pained, Alter pushed Lilansa up against the wall and tugged at the latter's long and pale ponytail, trying to jerk her head down towards her own yet-to-be-bodacious chest, her barely-there bosom.

"No! You stop! Stop it or you're dead!"

"NO! YOU STOP!"

"Damn slut!" Alter clawed.

"Stupid middle sister!" Lilansa kicked.

"Both of you -- stop it at once!"

The big Jeanne and the little Jeanne were pulled apart and kept at arm's length of each other. Alter was still swinging for Lilansa, and was decked square in the face with a solid from-across rightward strike. Said strike made her stumble, left her defenses wide open, and she was kicked into the wall. The wall cracked from impact, and Alter blacked out for a milisecond, but that milisecond was plenty of time for her to lose her bearings.

When she came to, she was face-to-face with Jeanne d'Arc, the white. The original. She had such a look of disapproval on her face, and it was directed right at her -- Jeanne d'Arc, the black.

Lilansa, her cheeks dark but fading, scowled and stuck her tongue out.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" Jeanne said, shaking her head and sounding so very upset with the circumstances. "You're sisters! You have to act like it!"

"--she's not my sister. She's a mistake."

"No!" replied Jeanne, harshly, passionately. "YOU'RE sisters! WE'RE sisters! Sisters mustn't fight! Not like this! Such a thing is too cruel, simply awful! Can't you see it?!"

Though Jeanne d'Arc spoke with a quality to her words that made it easy enough for others to trust in her and find meaning in said words, to a point it was nearly on the level of hypnosis, those that had utterly lost themselves to their dark ways and sported no desire to remove themselves from their own drowning depths could deny her of that gift. Such fell determination came natural to Alter, her shadow and antithesis.

Even so, for a moment, Alter felt true pangs in her heart.

Guilt.

Lilansa, still miffed at Alter, looked bashful, apologetic. Even though it wasn't her fault.

Or...was it?

Alter remembered. She remembered that YES, it WAS indeed Lilansa's fault that she, Alter, had snapped like that.

Barely able to contain her returning anger, Alter let rip an empty complaint, for the sake of getting her words out. "This little slut stinks of MY man's dick."

"He, he's mine, too!"

"I was there first, Starbucks!"

"Don't call me 'Starbucks!'" screeched Starbucks Lilansa.

"I'll call you whatever I want because I'm bigger and stronger, Eggnog Breath!"

"You're on the naughty list for good, meanie!"

"Shut up, Starbucks!"

"Don't call me 'Starbucks!'"

"STAR! BUCKS! STARBUCKS! STARBUCKS STARBUCKS!"

"You shut up, you stupid hag with boobs for brains I hate you!!"

"Nay! There'll be none of that! I forbid it!" Jeanne put her foot down. "Forgive each other already and be done with it or I'll punish you both!"

"But... it's not fair," Alter began to whine, inching--glacially--towards her own tears, feeling particularly vexed and crying foul at the oppression and injustice. "He's MY boyfriend...r-right."

"M-Master Reindeer, is very good, yes..."

"S-So don't take him from me, Me!"

Jeanne butted in, again ready to nip the confrontation in the bud, by force if necessary. More aggressive and determined than usual, due to the personal nature of this case and its relation to herself. A tad more selfish than usual for a selfless warrior-saint, but Jeanne felt the ties of family quite strongly. "Just stop already! What even is this? Fighting over the same man? For shame, have some class! You alters are troublesome."

"Then fine, o' 'Holy Maiden'," Alter spat, with an ugly sneer, "What would you have us do so that we can go back to making kissy faces at each other and have ourselves a mushy-gushy sisterly home life, sister mine???? Huuuuh?????"

Jeanne chopped Alter over the head and poked her little sister in the eyes. "Bwuh!" Alter spat, but for entirely different reasons. "What I would have you do," said Jeanne, "is have you two give up on him, mutually. Given that you and Lilansa are both altered Servants, you could try and share and be degenerates to your leisure -- but I can't approve of sordid relations like that. It's not the Christian way. So give it up, the both of you. Find different beaus elsewhere, if womanly pursuits is what you wish--"

"But...but he's a good man." Alter, unable to let it go, protested.

"Master Reindeer -- he's good," Lilansa went likewise. "Really good."

In a highly unsaintly gesture, Jeanne put her hand on her face, for a moment. It made her all the more human, these erstwhile sisterclones of hers. They just wouldn't let it slide. Part of her wanted to know why. "Who even is this man, so grand that neither of you shall budge?"

"My Master," said Alter.

"Master Reindeer. My Master," said Lilansa.

"Our Master, I mean," reiterated Alter, her way of giving in, yet also her way of not quite backing down, either.

".........huh?" Jeanne was puzzled. Our Master, Mr. Reliable? Sir Understanding? "That Master?"

"Yes."
"Yes."

It hadn't properly hit Jeanne in her brainmeats until now that the both of them were indeed smitten, in their own ways, with the same fellow. The two alters, her middle and little sisters, fragments and aspects and warpings of her own self, had gravitated to the same man. The two Alters, who could indulge themselves with uninhibitions that she denied herself -- they gravitated towards the same person. Different though they were, they were unified in this.

So, with curiosity and deep, contemplative concern, Jeanne asked them both: "Why?"

"He's good."
"Really good."

Their Master was good, yes. A good person. Good of a magus (not GREAT, but capable of a range of average spellcasting). Good at following orders and making judgment calls. But, the way they spoke of their Master being 'good'...

Jeanne finally realized. Even though her alters of sisters were willful and on the spectrum of sordidity, they boasted blushing, maidenlike smiles.

Against her better judgment, Jeanne's curiosity came back. With a bitter, bitter vengeance enough to rival that of the Dragon Witch that had terrorized Orleans so.

Her fists tightened. "D-Do tell," she asked.

.

- ] | [ -

.

"Good heavens," Jeanne muttered to herself as she wandered the residential wing of the institute in a daze. Though it had been an hour since, she still couldn't get it out of her head. It was scandalous! True bodice-ripper material. Things that she had only imagined as a mere village girl, before she answered her divine calling. Like fairy tales, but rife with overwhelming eroticism instead of sheer phantasm.

"Did I - did I truly have such interests, so early on?" Jeanne asked of herself as she thought back to the days of her youth. Though she herself had not lived such a long life, it was like gazing back into eternity. "Lilansa, oh my..." And the details her sisters had given her, although Jeanne herself had asked for them -- so vivid! As if the acts had been burned into their memories, and burned into hers in turn. Merely thinking about it was enough to whisk her away to that exact lewd snapshot.

She was Lilansa, still with seed in her belly from that intimate round, as naked as the mattress that him and her had acted atop.

She imagined the tongue of her Master swirl over a truly forbidden place. A dirty place meant to only vacate, and yet it received, and it felt SO decadent to be serviced there. So decadent that she didn't even need to touch upon herself further to be taken over the edge. Her Master's eager tongue was enough to clean her chimney. It was a bad thing to do, but she loved it, wanted to entrench herself further into the naughty list, damn the obligations of a Santa. Her own lust flowed from her body, like the rush of melted snow as it roared down the narrow mouth of a river valley and down her thighs.

Heat rose to her fair cheeks as the holy woman fumed to herself. "Mating...press..." Yes, even as

she

Jeanne d'Arc Santa Lily Lancer

still reeled from the climax, her Master mounted her and plunged into the girl anew. Steady. Hungrily insistent. It made the bedframe creak and took her all the way to her core. If she lingered on the thought she could still feel her hands grasp at her Master's wrists for support, feeling so small underneath her Master's frame. Her youth made her grip at him tightly, but the slickness of her body's lewd holiday punch and his still-warm eggnog from before made her presentbox a great holiday memory.

Then, her face. Coated with it. She had relished it, as much as she would a fresh snowfall. Now that, that was a Kodak moment.

"No! No..." It was too improper, IMMORAL to remember. But even so, Jeanne couldn't help but remember. She had done nothing but remember the things Lilansa, her little sister, had done. That Alter, her not-as-little sister, had done. In the bar. A dark den behind closed doors. For their eyes only. Jeanne started in her tracks as she remembered the act that the Lord had punished the sinful city for. She remembered as

she

Jeanne d'Arc Alter

was sodomized, again, and again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again. Each strike sapped away her life and will. And she relished it like some blackened martyr, the burning stake of violation that went where it should not have gone, yet felt so sinfully sublime.

Doing a lustful venture like that, day in and day out, every moment of every day. No wonder Sodom fell.

Coming to from her visions, she found herself gripping her flagpole, her very symbol, manifesting it from the depths of her consciousness to support herself where she stood. Her body quivered, still. Had she not done so she would have surely fell to her knees. "Ah, oh no, I mustn't think about that. I mustn't think about any of that," Jeanne tried to assure herself. "It's not...for me......?"

She had thought herself to be a saint before a woman. However, all of that reminded her that she had, indeed, been born a woman before she had accepted the role of holy figure. That she had been born a human. Reminded her of a path untaken. Of a husband. A child. Children. Things done to procreate said children. Warm embraces. Calloused but gentle hands.

Jeanne d'Arc gripped the pole more tightly than ever.

"It's not...for me. It mustn't be... I'm not like you, sisters. I've not the liberty."

Hers was a decision long made before. She would withstand. She had to. No matter how many of those sensuous recountings-turned-memories assailed her.

Jeanne glanced about and recoiled from the sight. "You must be joking," she said. In her hazy wandering of Chaldea's floors she had managed to find her way to her Master's quarters, to her mild shock. A sign? A temptation? She was too close to it all to tell, and she had to figure it out in a flash, lest she lose sight of herself.

Yes, the other Jeannes, her sister-selves, had done such things. But, the favor of Jeanne d'Arc was not so easily a prize won. Of course, she was a saint; hence, she opened her arms to all. That was her duty, her professionalism by way of divine mandate as an pillar to support God on His earth. Still, her heart lingered. A heart with room not just for anyone who needed the aid, but for one and only--vestigial emotions from her time as a girl. It lingered enough to be conflagrated into a core pillar of her altered self.

The two sisters had found someone--the exact same someone--and gave it their all. Jeanne d'Arc, the white holy maiden, knew well of absolute devotion. Perhaps there was something to this whole (love) affair after all.

Whether it be sign or temptation, she thought it fair to give it a shot. She knocked on her Master's door.

.

- ] | [ -

.

You get the door and see that your visitor is one of your many Servants, Jeanne d'Arc. When the Ruler saw that you had arrived to answer the door she was suddenly seemingly struck with a moment of realization and stepped back so quickly it was more of a leap. Following that, she greeted you with a small (but awkward?) wave of her hand. "Good day, Master," she said.

"Good day, Jeanne," you replied back. "Do you, uh, have another request?" You picked up on her ever-so-slightly nervous energy, and reflected it back out. While you knew that Jeanne wasn't made out of steel, you knew that she was made of sterner stuff than most, many Servants included. It was strange, and a bit distressing to see her like this.

"Yes," Jeanne said, pausing between the words. She took a deep breath, and her chest rose and fell accordingly. You couldn't help but notice it, your eyes drawn to her body like a magnet so. ...so very much like Alter's. Exactly the same. Your eyes lingered, but they didn't linger long. Anyway! Jeanne. After her pause, so short, but long enough, she asked her question:
"Would you like to take a walk with me?"

She looked at you with an expression that was both familiar and strange. You didn't know what to make of it, but you did know exactly how to answer her.

"Yes, I would."

God only knew what Jeanne felt at that exact moment as she presented herself before you. All you knew, all that you cared about, at that exact moment, was that your meager gesture was enough for you to witness her delicate smile.

.

- ] | [ -

.

As to the walk? It was but a walk. Jeanne, she grew more and more comfortable at the passing of every moment. So it seemed to you, at any rate. Whatever it was that did weigh upon her mind, all the various distractions that Chaldea offered--extensions patronized by certain industrious Servants such as Charles Babbage, Nikola Tesla, Cleopatra and Caesar and the young Gilgamesh--all of the sight-seeing and retrospection towards the state of the institute seemed to clear her mind of the intrusive thoughts that she meant to see you for.

So you thought. So you complied. So you indulged her, a saint that had never asked for anything selfish until now.

Though Chaldea's already sizable facilities had grown enough for it to develop its own bizarre infrastructure, eventually your route led you back to your room. Back to where the both of you had started, and Jeanne seemed all the better for it.

"Well, this is it," you say, upon noticing this proverbial end of the line.

"Ah, so it seems," replied Jeanne.

"Still won't tell me what bugged you?"

"Alas, no. There is no need, for the time has passed, and I feel well again."

"I guess even saints and Servants have that time of the month."

"Hardly!" retorted the saint and Servant in question.

You made to open your door as you alleviate the collateral damage of your joke, a snippet of banter closer to the truth than anyone knew or was comfortable with. Maybe. "Kidding, kidding. Best of luck to you. For now, I guess I'll--"

Whatever it was, you completely forgot about it.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter and Jeanne d'Arc Santa Lily Lancer did an absolutely bang-up job of that. Emphasis on the 'bang' of 'bang-up.'

It was a maddening feast for the senses. Of sound; delightful moans from both parties echoed off the bedroom walls and straight into your ears, impossible to ignore. Of scent; the aroma was unmistakably animalistic, unassailable.

Of sight; enticing white accentuated by sensual black. Pale skin and dark hosery, worn on limbs that offered no modesty. The two of them lay there, atop your bed, their nearly-nude bodies intertwined. Alter held Lilansa in place--a python having captured a meal, slowly devouring her prey. Her dark, gloved hands did not so much as dance across her little sister's body, but relentlessly attacked the smaller Jeanne d'Arc at her weakest points. Alter worked a rosy tip of one of Lilansa's breasts between her fingers, rolling it and squeezing it as if to coerce Lilansa's bud into a bloom like Alter's. With her other hand, and a groan upon her lips, Alter circled and circled Lilansa's maidenly line, rapidly teasing the tight little thing open.

It glistened under the fluorescent light. Lilansa's thighs. Her hips. Where those parts met that Alter so insistently serviced. It was too late for her. Her excitement had had flowed, and flowed freely since even before you two arrived. Lilansa's moans were far more anguished than Alter's, though she did not resist. Did not want to resist. As her already rapid breaths speed up to the zenith, Lilansa put a free hand of hers to work. It reached behind her, had been there ever since you and Jeanne had been able to witness it, and shook. The harder it shook, the more intensely Alter's groans were hissed through her teeth. Lilansa may not had been for long, but neither was Alter.

By some twisted miracle, a sinfully and heavenly one, the middle and little d'Arc sisters came at the same time. Their voices hit that tone which assaulted your sensibilities.

Saints as much as sinners would find such atmosphere impossible to resist. The sun would sooner rise in the west.

You, Master and Ruler, had walked in at the wrong time. Or, the perfect time. You could only stare in awe. Jeanne's awkward keen, rosy cheeks and quivering body all, had returned from the battlefield after being seemingly routed in full force, with a battalion of reinforcements in tow. "This cannot be so," Jeanne said, choppily, her dismay directed more to herself than to the nature of her sisters' relations as she took a good, hard look inwards.

Lilansa-cum-Starbucks was the first of the siblings to unhaze herself and care for your presence. "Master...Reindeer..." she called to you.

"Master...Sister Mine, what a pleasant surprise..." Alter followed through, her voice as husky, as needful as her partner's.

"Hey there," you offer a dumbfounded reply, even as you stand there with a pitched tent. Lilansa returns your half-hearted wave of a greeting with one of her own, and Alter's lidded gaze of contains undisguised interest.

"Come now! What's the meaning of this?!" Jeanne, plenty frazzled herself, interjected.

"Whatever is the problem, Sister Mine?" cooed Alter. "Was it not you who had said before that we, as sisters, mustn't fight? Can you not see that we've put aside our differences?" She firmly squeezes both of Lilansa's delicately-jutting breasts with both of her hands, making the Jeannes' little sister jump whilst atop Alter's lap. She squeaked, her kettle getting heated again by Alter's renewed attack.

"Certainly so, but this--such a thing is going too far!!"

"Oh, now? Then, this is all," she nibbled Lilansa's earlobe as an interim, Lilansa gave a whimper of approval, and Alter ended the love bite with a kiss to the gently wounded area. "--a sin, isn't it?"

"Doubtlessly so! Doubtlessly! So!"

"Your words would be more convincing if you weren't stuttering like the horny virgin that you are." The Avenger rolled Lilansa off of her lap and stood up from your bed and faced you and Ruler, and the small Lancer complied, already on her knees and following her bigger sister's suit. With slight sways, as if slightly drunk on the afterglow, Alter approached the two newcomers with sensual steps. Slow, deliberate, sexy. Her shortly-cropped hair was messy, semi-clingy with sweat, sweat that also glistened across her mostly bare body. She ran a gloved hand through said hair as she regarded her Master and elder sister with a smoothly predatory gaze. The other hand took Jeanne by the latter's hand.

"I, I am no--"

"Ah, don't even try it. A saint shouldn't lie. You mustn't ruin yourself like that...
"Not when I can ruin you in so much better ways."

With a deceitfully warm smile, Alter pressed her nude self into Jeanne and took the white saint's lips as she led them both bedside.

"Masterrrrrr......!" Jeanne whined, hopelessly, for her lips were captured so thoroughly by Alter's, and you had a distraction of your own to contend with.

In contrast, Lilansa's approach alongside Alter's, while simultaneous. She felt her afterglow more strongly than Alter did. Like those of a newborn calf, her steps were shaky, but determined, and gravitated towards you. "Master Reindeer..." said Lilansa, "Let's play... Reindeer games, let's do it, again."

Her body just as wet with sweat, her long and fair ponytail just as messy, and her eyes of pale gold just as enraptured and rapturous -- she was in no way inferior to Alter. Lilansa tugged on your clothes needfully, as shaky but deliberately as her approach.

You couldn't speak for Jeanne, but YOU had no intention to resist. You closed the door behind you, locked it up nice and tight, and picked up the little, bare saint into your arms and carried her to the bed. This time, it was Lilansa who kissed you, and you reciprocated without even needing to think it over. She gave a pleased hum and wrapped her begloved arms around your neck.

On closer examination, you saw that your sheets are already humid. Humid with sweat, and everything else feasibly erotic. Of sight, once more.

Jeanne was anxious, wanted to escape this trap before it was too late. "Master-! You're not--nn, uah!--serious, are you?"

"We're all very serious about this. Except for you, Sister Mine," Alter slithered in. With one arm keeping her sister seated on the bed, atop Jeanne's thigh, Alter lifed Jeanne's skirt, and the latter was helpless to resist. "Behold, dear Master, our bitch of a big sister is the most needful one here! She was wet the whole time she watched our sisterly climax! Was wet for even longer than that before, I'd say! What say you, Jeanne? You wanted to bounce on his cock the whole time you were on that little walk together, didn't you?"

"Nay, I--!"

Alter's lips were on Jeanne's once more, and this time her tongue forced her way into her elder sister's mouth. It was forceful, an attack, and Jeanne had to utterly defend against it. Their hums, one of resistance, the other of delight, mingled, nearly impossible to tell apart. When Alter broke the kiss off, she again spoke. "Bet you even tried to hold his hand but were too reluctant to go through with it!"

"You don't know--"

But again, her words were cut off by Alter's aggressions.

"Oh, Jeanne, I've suggested as much, but let me say it outright: every time you lie, I'll kiss you. For your words betray you, betray us--

"--but this body of yours is far too honest for your own good."

Alter pushed Jeanne onto the bed. Atop the messy sheets, sheets that already stunk of raw sex, and would surely be soiled with more lewdness in mere moments hence. The trouble-maker of a middle sister flipped Jeanne's skirt all the way up, past the breastplate encircled about the saint's belly, exposing everything. Jeanne's hands were pinned down to the bed, Alter's raw strength enough to keep Jeanne firmly in place, and right where her darkness wanted her to be.

"So very ready, and yet, hardly enough," She drew her hand up the stockings of Jeanne's thighs, and the latter swallowed air hard, the touch making her so, so very aware of those carnal feelings that she didn't want to, couldn't indulge. Hadn't the right to.

Alter didn't give a shit. She'd spare more damns for a pebble on the side of a warpath--and said warpath was to be a double-pronged frontal charge straight at Jeanne d'Arc's abstinence.

Alter's fingers spread into a v-shape. The vee caressed Jeanne, right on the precipice, above the lips to her holy place, that which was not supposed to be hers to give away. So close, right on the edge -- Jeanne did know whether to wail or hold her breath. Her moan, shamefully involuntary, came out as a hiccup. "Alterrr..." said Jeanne, "Please...!"

The middle sister heard the elder sister's words, and only grinned a naughty grin, her eyes narrowed with authoritative mein. "Though it'd be a treat--" Alter's hand ran directly over Jeanne, and it made the goodly saint shiver. "--to violate you--" Alter's fingertips pressed against Jeanne's lips, threatened to press past Jeanne's lips, and Alter, as slowly and surely as the spectre of death, whispered into Jeanne's ear, "--have you bleed allllll over MY fingers--" The very tips were into the breach, feeling like the edge of a blade at one's neck. Jeanne gasped, and gasped, and gasped, quietly, nervously, a reduced to a mass of confusion and desire, "it's not my place to do so." The dragon witch's fingertips pulled out and away at the very last moment, and trailed Jeanne's sticky lust in their wake, the betrayal of the Orleans' maiden's unbidden arousal. "After all," said Alter, "my desires--are yours."

For a moment, Jeanne was granted reprieve from her thirsty alter ego, but such relief rang hollow.

"Hey, squirt," Alter addressed Lilansa. "Big Sis needs a touch-up before her big moment. Be a doll and fetch our Master's toiletries."

"I'm not, nn, a doll," said the girl, her breath hot and steamy and short on your face. Lilansa had been busying herself with you the entire time, lips on yours and treating you to gentle strokes that kept you excited the whole time. "I'm a, a Santa!"

"Even better," sensously remarked Alter. "Jeanne here needs a real nice gift, you see. The reindeer games can wait." She toyed with the small patch of flaxen hair that sprouted above the hole.

"I see," said Lilansa. "I'll be back, Master Reindeer," and she reluctantly, yet dutifully peeled herself away from you, never once taking her eyes off of you until she had no choice. Her cute little pert thing of a butt wiggled with her hips as she stole away to your chest of drawers and pulled out a bag of supplies.

Alter noticed your freed and serviced cock, standing full, slightly aglisten with leaking lust. "I see you work fast, Starbucks. Congrats."

"Don't...call me Starbucks, Sister." Starbucks/Lilansa gave a pout of peeved-off disapproval, but that was it.

At least my sisters aren't fighting anymore, thought Jeanne d'Arc.

"Merry Christmas!" said Lilansa, as the little alter brought the larger alter the hygenics.

"Well done," said Alter. "Now then, Little Sis, be a doll and take over keeping her down."

"I'm not a doll, I'm a Santa."

"I could just eat you up. Actually, I will, in time. For now..."

For now, her hands freed via Lilansa taking over keeping Jeanne captive, Alter took up a bottle of cream and a razor, both belonging to their Master. You can't help but take note. "You didn't seem to mind being a little wild down there when we did it in the bar. What gives?"

"I," with a pssh she applied a thin layer of cream onto Jeanne's nethers and massaged it into a white froth, "was too drunk to care about that. Sister Mine, here, is perfectly un-inebriated; she's not past her embarrassment yet, so of course she'd want to be clean for "you."

You shrug empathetically. "Makes sense to me."

"No!" bemoaned Jeanne. "It does not whatsoever!"

"Indeed, emotions are hardly sensical, my Master."

"Alter, you are agreeing with me but I don't like iiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!" Jeanne's voiced hiked, but that was because Alter brought down the razor onto what little hair Jeanne had down there. Though a tool wielded by a Servant was capable of damaging other Servants, a threat of injury was certainly not the cause of Jeanne's acute anguish.

"There, there. Soon, the good girl will get her gift, and be like us," said Lilansa, as Alter scraped away Jeanne's hair. And indeed, you notice that both of Jeanne's little sisters are clean as whistles down under.

"Huh, so it is," you said.

"Your little fuckbunnies need to be nice for you, Master," said Alter.

"Nice for you," Lilansa, though she hadn't any hair down there from the start.

"Nice...for Master...?!" Jeanne gasped, her arousal creeping towards the event horizon. Just in time, for that last stroke came away clean, and Jeanne, down there, was as nude as the rest of them -- all three of their cunts identical in this regard.

"Lo, nice for Master," said Alter, and she ran her hand over Jeanne's newly-smooth skin. Without warning, she smacked the freshly shaved cunt, and a pleasant slapping sound regaled your ears. Of sound; and Jeanne's voice came out high and loud, more than ever before. She blushed terribly, looked at you with pleading eyes, and her sisters' gazes were very expectant.

"Master..." said Jeanne, as her cunt twitch, leaked shininess. "Master, I..."

Flashes of thoughts crossed her mind as the end of the prelude approached. Of half-remembered dreams, deja vu of the time she had fought along at her Master's side during Orleans. Of shared pain and triumph.

"Remember, Sister Mine--"

Of the pretty white box with the shiny blue bow, mere obligation chocolate given on St. Valentine's Day, but her heart had, within the depths of her chest, throbbed to give it to her Master.

"--if you lie--"

Honestly, if she could quantify her relationship with her Master, then she'd be at Bond Level 5. Close, good synergy, affection to be found there, yes, but still...

"--I'll kiss you."

She couldn't hear the voice of God anymore. There was guidance to offer her. She could only make this choice herself.

Her breaths were deep, and hard like something she wanted deep down, in her core. Her ample bosom rose and fell with each -halation what would her Master do to them, in passion's throes?. The combined might of the silver-haired, golden eyed Jeannes left her unable to move what would she do to her Master?

"Master... Master, I..."

Jeanne looked at her Master directly; her eyes wavered with need, but she refused to tear them away.

"...I want it so much that it hurts."

Her feelings, so complex and so confused, came out like the base confession of a horny schoolgirl.

"Sorry it's been tough on you -- I'll make it worth your while."

The Alter Sisters lifted Jeanne's legs up and down, and with herself so exposed and vulnerable and ready you pressed into Jeanne's soppy slit.

"M-Mating press?!" Jeanne stammered out, a wince in her eyes as the absoluteness of her arousal, hours in the making, made her first time ever a smooth affair. You pull back, and your shaft is stained with a streak of slick red. "Yes indeed, that cherry has been popped. Fine job, Master," at the sight of that sexual trope being fulfilled, Alter praised you. "She--I, I mean, we--we're just that tight, so a little cliche like that is to be expected. You don't hate virgins that bleed on their first time, don't you?"

"You don't, do you???" already feeling it, Jeanne's teeth chattered, and she repeated the question with a look of concern.

"It's, all, good!" you tell her, tell them, and resume to stroke in and out of Jeanne, as Alter and Lilansa look pleased with themselves and highly, highly interested in what you plan to do next to the root of their existence.

"Master! Nn! M-Master! S-Slower, please? Or, faster? I, I don't, don't knoooow..."

"Definitely take her faster," Alter said, and she ripped Jeanne's top apart, exposing the latter's breasts to the open air of your bedroom. Feeling up one of Jeanne's breasts, Alter took the blonde-haired saint's lips for her own, as before.

"I'm not, lying, am I...?" Jeanne could barely get out her protest in between Alter's aggressive affections.

" 'Course not," replied Alter, and she gave her another kiss, and another. "You're just too adorable to let slip, Sister Mine."

Lilansa, still holding one of Jeanne's feet down to the bedsheets, pecked her on the forehead. "This is your gift. You should enjoy it, Sister."

The remembered feelings of the pseudo-communal memories came back. I.E., Jeanne was reminded that, yes, she liked the mating press. Liked it A LOT. Even without the sympathetic experience with Lilansa, Jeanne would like it. It was not just a matter of her Master's technique, which, to her meagre knowledge, was FINE, nor was it down to her preferences, which she couldn't possibly know yet because of her inexperience.

It was simple: Jeanne was as wet as a bucket of water, so of course it felt good (even if it stung some).

You hilted in her to the core with ease. "Master, oh! Master!" She didn't know what to say. Dirty talk was beyond her. All she could do was call to him like she was simple. "Ahhah, Master!!" Everything else was too hard. It felt TOO GOOD. Also good was the angle; her Master stroked into her core with a nearly mechanical precision, and sweat feel from their face onto her body.

Her body--Jeanne could no longer control her body. She didn't know anymore. Her fate was no longer up to her. Her fate was no longer in the hands of God--it was in the cock of her Master.

When Jeanne was but a girl with maidenly fancies she had no outlet before. Now, there was release. She had YOU.

"Master, Masterrrrrrr!!!" Jeanne wailed, her body freed, her sisters no longer there to pin her legs down. She no longer needed the coercion. Her instinctual desire kept her there, kept her there under you as you gave it to her harder and harder. "Oh, my Lord in Heavennnn~~~!!!!!" Jeanne's hips quivered tremendously, and she squeezed hard around you. With a sharp buck you were kicked straight from her body, hit with a gush of fluid shot straight from her core. With trembles down her thighs that went all the way to her toes, her lust splashed against you like a crotch-to-crotch weapon, and she let out a cry like none other.

"I didn't peg you for a quick shot, Jeanne."

"D-Don't be mean, Master!" she groaned, slightly in a fugue. "Wait. Is that... a bad thing?" Of course, Jeanne'd have no way to know, for the Virgin of Orleans had remained a virgin until recently.

Alter, the middle sister with the wild side, saw it fit to educate her older sister in this matter. "For our Master, it'd be unfortunate. For you, it's a boon."

"Boon...?" Jeanne asked, dazed still.

"It means you get to experience that again," Alter answered with a smirk. "To be able to ride the waves of pleasure over and over so quickly is a privilege alloted to women."

"The gift that keeps on giving!" Lilansa gave a thumbs-up.

"So, let's keep on giving!" you say, and wrestle Jeanne into a position atop you.

"What? Master!"

"I'm not through, yet. Neither are you, right?"

"Am, I?"

She thought on it.

"--it does feel lonely, Master."

"It's still your first time, Jeanne. Work it until you're happy."

With a countenance that spoke of her needful determination, Jeanne dispelled much of her outfit, the wrappings on her arms and legs still there. She clenched a fist over her ample bosom, and bashfully ground against your still quite-excited weapon of war, wincing slightly as she did so, already feeling the need from just that much.

"Servant Ruler, Jeanne d'Arc, heading off to the next battlefield!" and she sucked it up and took you on again. "Ahh, Master!"

"Cowgirl, again," you duly note.

"What's wrong with this?" she asked, her voice already cracking.

"Nothing. Just realized that it's definitely a Jeanne d'Arc thing."

"It's true. It's your favorite, isn't it, Sister Mine?"

"I-Is it not too early, to say such a thing????"

"Hardly. It's my favorite, and Starbucks' favorite, so it must be your favorite, too!"

Jeanne offered little protest, and her hips did all the talking in her stead. Having been enraptured by it so soon, yes, it truly must've been the position she had most compatibility with. Moving inside of her, watching her breasts bounce with each gallop, Jeanne d'Arc felt as if she were atop a horse, riding the thing into battle, adrenaline and focus pumping through her veins like lifeblood. But, with every gallop of riding this horse, riding you, she felt every inch of you course through her maiden-, nay, womanhood. Her long, blonde braid shook like a tail in accordance to the undulations of her own body. Riding the horse that was you made her slick with sweat and more. Let her ride faster. "Jeanne," you taste her name upon your tongue, losing the ability to focus on little else but this divinely inspired beauty atop you, desiring to feel more of you in turn.

The battlefield drew closer, and Jeanne egged the horse on--you. She leaned over, worked her hips with a raw instinct, and clapped against your lap. Jeanne leaned into you, her chest meeting with yours, her breath hot and heavy on your face, her azure eyes piercing into yours.

Many things happen at once. You take Jeanne's lips, take her away from Alter even as you taste Alter's distinct flavor upon Jeanne. She tastes warm, sunny. You can hardly stand it, and belt into her harder, grasp at her buttocks, feeling firm and full in your palms. Jeanne groans, exclamations or protests you know not of, but it is muffled into you just the same.

The most important thing to come of this--

"Christmas magic!" called Lilansa, and the air tingled with a surge of prana.

"NGGGGHH?!?!?!?!" This time, Jeanne's voice speaks of utter surprise. "Ha! That's rich!" Alter laughs. Jeanne squirms, making you both feel it nice and good. Curious, you feel around, looking for what ails Jeanne so.

Eventually, you find it: a bunch of candy canes, curvy end up, are sticking out of her asshole. "Lilansa! What in heaven's name-?!"

"A holiday surprise, Sister. You ought to be grateful!"

"I don't want to hear such declarations from a troublemaker who's treating my derrière like a candy diiiiiiish!"

"Scoot over, squirt. Lemme get a taste of our dear sister's butt goodies, too."

"Not you too, Alter!"

"I wish my tongue was long enough to join the three of them."

Even as you say that, you push her hips down, make her ride you harder and sloppier.

"Masterrr! If your tongue was that long, you'd be a demon, for sure!"

"If that's so, then that explains why our Master's quite the stud in the sack!" Alter declared, in between licking the sweets and the stretched chocolate star of the agonizing saint. "Anyway, work on improving your sexy talk, Sister Mine, otherwise Master'll never learn to love you!"

"Hard not to love this!" you yourself declare, as you go even faster, as the Alter Sisters were made to bob their heads up and down like nodding dog toys as they tasted the peppermint upon the sticks that impaled their elder.

"If-! If you-! If you three do that-! To meee-!"

"Then do it already, we want turns with our Master, too!"

"Yeah! You love-stupid sister!"

Unable to take it anymore, attacked in her cunt and ass at once, Jeanne came, again, dryer than before, but none the less mighty an experience inflicted upon herself. Her voice was loud, and decadent, and the sight of her brow scrunched in pleasure, her pretty eyes moist, and her soft skin against yours, you loose yourself inside of Jeanne. Each hot pump makes her whimper in satisfied exhaustion.

Thus, Jeanne d'Arc of the Chaldeans have her first time with her beloved Master.

"Master..." said Jeanne, finally ready to get honest with her feelings. "That was, that was fantast--"

And then Alter pulled her off their Master and tossed her aside to the foot of the bed.

.

- ] | [ -

.

"Good, now that that's out of the way, we can get to the real good stuff, Master."

"What was wrong with that?" asked Jeanne, looking a tad annoyed for getting thrown nearly off of the bed.

"Pure love isn't so bad, I guess," admitted Alter, which quickly turned to criticism. "But you're utter shit at dirty talk, Sister Mine."

"Alter...!"

"Don't worry, Big Sis. You're new at this, so I'll show you the ropes with a first-hand demonstration." Alter leaned over your, her body as naked and full as Jeanne's, identical in virtually every way save for the extra-fair pallor of her skintone, and flashed you a seductive look. "I'm so hot for you right now, Master. Let's fuck and fuck until our bodies run dry."

"Needs work, sistAH!" critiqued Lilansa, as she immediately squatted on your penis and took you into her hot little Christmas stocking. Her wetness, her tightness, aching for your since the start of this whole charade, greedily suck you in all the way, nubby little walls making it good for the both of you.

"You little tart! That's what I would've done if you flirting your ass off with this guy!"

"Santa must climb down a chimney! Or on one, in this caaaaase!"

"Whatever! I commend you for the initiative! Master, you'd better make her feel good, or else!" And Alter leaned over to the moaning Lilansa, kissed her sister on the lips, and stuck a finger up the little d'Arc's butt.

"Master, ah, Reindeer! Is this my present, hnng!, for being a good girl???"

"No, you're being naughty!" you grunt out. "But I like naughty girls just fine, so it's good!"

"It's good," panted Lilansa, "to be naughty!"

To prove it to her, you bend forward, her still riding your flocked-up Christmas tree, Alter still fingering the girl's tight butt, and run your tongue over Lilansa's exposed armpit. It tastes exactly of salted peppermint bark. She lets out a coo, tightens around you and Alter. "Master!" called Jeanne. "Don't forget about me, though my sisters be temptresses so!" She leaned into you, breasts pressing into your arm, and immediately works you into a French kiss, her tongue fighting for attention with yours.

Though you had just came, the combined efforts of no less than three Jeanne d'Arcs is enough for a miracle to occur, and you feel the pleasure well again. "Lilansa!" you call to the one riding you this time. "I know what I want for Christmas this year!"

"Yesss!?" she answers back, already losing herself.

"I want a holiday creampie!!!" and you take that present of your personal Santa without even waiting for her response. A fine thing, since Santa already endeavors to help the good boys and girls of the world, and to her, you're the goodest of them all.

"My turn!" Aggressively went Alter, who, gently but firmly and rapidly, lifted Lilansa off of you, and began to suck you clean, as if she were a wild animal remarking her territory to be fresh. Her hand pumped up and down, as if she indulged in that insurance in case you couldn't get it up again for her. Such concerns were needless. Three Jeannes at once, all hungering for you, was something that could never cool your fires. At this very rate you all really would work each other until dry.

Until then, Alter pushes you back even further onto your bed, and presents herself, butt first. You took the hint, and took her squarely from behind, rewarding her animalistic behavior with animalistic lust. Doggy was an old standby, but a crowdpleaser--definitely a way to enjoy Alter's shapely butt. Her meat jiggling from each smack-inducing surge, Alter turns her head around, and cheekily sticks her tongue out at you, feeling like a rock star, daring you to REALLY make her feel it.

You grab her by the hips and accept the challenge.

"That's it, Master! Fuck me hard, damn it!"

"Still needs work, you stupid-crite sister," Lilansa deadpanned, and she slid underneath Alter, her tongue already setting to work on her slightly-older sister. "Wh-Whatever, Starbucks! Get bent! Who the hell cares?!" Alter retorted, sounding like the moody teenage girl she resembled, but tripping over her words because Lilansa, being a Jeanne, knew exactly what a Jeanne liked the most. "F-Fine! As long as it gets me off and wet, it'll make it all the better for the both of us! So, keep it coming, Santa!"

"Your mouth is foul, little sister. I'll keep it nice and shut so that our Master can punish a naughty girl like you," Jeanne, eager to get back into the fight, mustered the courage to kiss Alter back, fondle the dangling tits of her darker self, twist a hard, hot nipple between her fingers as if she were kneading a lump of clay. Yes, Jeanne was very brave, very determined, and showed equal adoration to Lilansa. Though the smaller Servant lay underneath the larger alter, Jeanne fingered her all the same, two gloved fingers sliding in and out of the tightest snatch of the trio, trailing damp lust and your spent seed with each motion.

Lilansa licked harder. Jeanne kissed more deeply, worked her fingers and Alter's nipples to the bone. Alter bounced her hips, working with and against you, as if fighting you to see who can make the other climax first. Such a battle was one, like her sister before her, that she lost. Noisily. Her holy water trickled down her thighs, splashed onto Lilansa's face, and the Lancer kept on tasting it, finding something inseparably tasty about Alter.

Alter lost that bout no less than three times, one for each of her partners. Number 3 she would argue as a tie, for you came once she did, sent whitewash straight down her channelway.

Lilansa licked the trickle, savoring it like it were a Christmas pudding.

"Hey...Starbucks...it's already done, you dope..."

"Don't...call me Starbucks..."

At that, all three of the Jeannes had their wombs overflowing with your hot seed.

Yet, it wasn't enough. The way Jeanne looked at you, the way Alter liked her lips, the way that Lilansa clung to you, to her Master Reindeer, and their signalling, meant that they wanted more from you.

You knew that if all that wasn't enough to appease the lewd saints, then you knew what would. Their miracles, real or placebo, you knew not nor cared not, kept you in a hungry mood, too. Thus, you reached into your drawer and pulled out a bottle of glistening fluid.

"Oil, Master Reindeer?"

"Of course," said Alter. "We're never doing the alcohol lube thing again. Christ, that stung the morning after. Or, at least, do it after you've used actual lube, like that thing." Alter flashed a dirty, dirty smile and a playful wink. "You deserve the maiden voyage, little sis."

"I've never done it before. In the butt, I mean. Not like that one time, with your tongue, Master Reindeer."

Jeanne recalled that recounted memory, and it made her twitch with forced remembered delight. If that was only at the surface and a little past, then to do such a thing into the very core...

Alter wasted no time; she snagged the bottle from your hands, squirted some into her hands, and worked the oil around and into her butt, making a grand show of it. She winked at you, stuck her tongue out, already began using two and three fingers to stretch it open. Jeanne rolled her eyes a bit, but did little else but sit there patiently, candy canes still up her ass.

Candy canes still up her ass?

"Jeanne?"

"Ah, this?! It's, uh, convenient. And it feels, well, nice, knowing that you'd come for it, someday..."

What sort of person did Jeanne take you for, to assume you'd want to pillage her ass before this saintly orgy was over and done with?

What sort of person were you that that was accurate?

Lilansa, however, happily applied, wiping it around as she hummed yet another Christmas song that she knew not the lyrics to.

Maybe you ought to teach her one for real, someday.

"Master Reindeer," she waved to you, eager as can be. "Let's go for a ride, Master Reindeer!" Gingerly, you complied, rolled into her from behind, the sensation of her tight butt entirely different from the feel of her tight giftbox. Hot, a tad rubbery, her oil application was good, for a beginner. "Master, ouf, Reindeer--it's tough..."

Keep at it, and carefully, you told her. Don't rush this, unless you're the type who gets off on the burn. Advising her so, you threw a knowing glance in Alter's direction. She, shrugged as she touched herself to the sight of you greasehounding her holiday-themed little sister from below. "Don't you worry about the little devil. She's got quite the closeted anal fixation. I'd know."

"It's tough, Master Reindeer, but it feels good, good...!"

"Told you so."

"She's a small thing, but she ain't made of glass. She's Jeanne d'Arc. Get rougher with her, she'll like it."

With a shrug of your own upon your shoulders, and a hungry, perverse need to sate said hungry, perverse need, you pick up the pace, ready to discard your own advice towards Lilansa, but restraining yourself just so. Even so, it's enough to send her to the North Pole and back, her voice a pitchy, enticing sound. Eventually, the sight tempted Alter so; she crawled over to Lilansa, and kissed upon the Lancer's breast mounds, tasting her salted peppermint bark for herself from the girl's nipples. Jeanne d'Arc, still with festive candies sticking out from her own butt, removed a pair of the treats, licked them wet, and moved the treats in and out of Lilansa's slightly agap slit. "Sister! Ahh! The both of you, and Master Reindeer, it's too much~!"

"Then prove it, Little Miss Santa Claus," you tell her as your paces quickens, threatens to spill forth into Lilansa's lonely little butthole for the first time ever. This time, however, the burden of proof lay with you. This time, it was you who spewed first, rewarded Lilansa with her very first chocolate cream pie. The feeling of her butt being stuffed full made her quiver and leak right over the candy canes. Crimson stripes into crimson streaks.

"Way to baptise our little sister there, Master. Good stuff, but you can do even better can't you?" The Avenger teased you, grinding her butt against you. "She's wet, Master Reindeer," said Lilansa. "It'll be easy for you!" she cheered you own with a little fist bump. The small saint had hot seed in both of her holes, and yet was still hungry for this and that with her sisters.

Taking Alter off-guard, you pushed her onto her side, onto your steamy bedsheets, and spooned right into her. Her asterisk became an oh, and so did her wry laugh. Lilansa immediately went for Alter's vulnerable breasts, and Jeanne put more candy canes to use. "Master, Alter here needs a bit more penitence training. Do oblige her and help her regain her footing on the Lord's path. A witch should be impaled at least a hundred times before she is allowed to offer true repentance!"

"You're starting to sound a lot like her, Jeanne."

She forced one of the sweet treats into Alter's mouth, shutting the fell saint up even as the latter was reamed from head to hilt by you and your miraculously a-throb cock. No more wisecracks or blasphemies from her as her crack itself was utterly owned by you. Alter could only mumble in ecstasy.

Eventually, you blessed Alter in the ass with your holy spunk. One, two, nine pumps--like nine lashes--and you stroked yourself out into her, the Dragon Witch of Orleans. You didn't know if she felt penitence of any sort, but she sure looked as satisfied as a fat cat after a good meal.

"Master..."

"I haven't forgotten you, Jeanne. Let's have ourselves a grand time."

"Master," Jeanne said, desire in her words. You grabbed the bunch of candy canes, still in her ass, and pulled free. You tossed them aside, to fall onto your bedclothes, leaving Jeanne's gaped ass in your wake. With the donut wide and the tube narrow, Jeanne was pressed up with her hands against your headboard, braid tossed over her shoulder. With her wide opened butthole in front of you, it was child's play to sheath all the way. Jeanne shivered harder and harder the more centimeters of you went inside. She shivered twice as hard when you pulled away, as if missing you already even though you were still there right behind her.

With cum dripping from both of their holes, Alter and Lilansa tackled Jeanne d'Arc alongside you. Both Alter Sisters pushed her hips back onto yours, giving her little rest in-between your strokes. Both of them attacked Jeanne's free valley, mustering their forces to send a pair of fingers each into her depths--four in total to you with her body as they saw fit. As part of this foursome, Jeanne softly cried wordlessly.

"Look, Master~"

"Yes, look, look--Master Reindeer~"

"Doesn't she look beautiful like this? Totally sexy?"

"Good, right?"

"Masterrr--it's great, isn't it? A body no one else can enjoy but you?

"Of course you are, Jeanne."

The way you put it, you spoke to all three of them. They who were supposed to have originally been the Holy Virgin of Orleans, who devoted her body to no one else but God--but only because there had been no one else truly worthy that she could devote herself to alongside

her

their

divine calling.

Lucky you, one and only Master of Chaldea. Lucky you, to be in the good graces of such a pivotal and beautiful and affectionate saint.

With her, with them at your side, you are unstoppable, and the future is as good as saved.

In short, it was a perfectly standard but nonetheless lovely, was a Christmas-in-July miracle.

---

A/N: there had better not be a swimsuit jeanne in FGO Summer 2017 because I SWEAR TO GOD

[kinlyki]

This... Is... GLORIOUS!!
Although...

A/N: there had better not be a swimsuit jeanne in FGO Summer 2017 because I SWEAR TO GOD

You just basically ASKING for it, now.

[Rafflesiac]

A moment of silence for that poor, poor mug of cocoa.

[SeiKeo]

A moment of silence for that poor, poor mug of cocoa.

A genuinely great moment in character

[Rafflesiac]

I was laughing for like 5 minutes, it was great

[ZidanReign]

*snip*

mfw

[OverMaster]

This was commissioned, I guess I'm doing commissions now

This story is written solely for the purpose of entertainment, and not for any sort of monetary profit.

If you were paid in sex to write lemons, congratulations, now you are Officially Living The Dream.

[ItsaRandomUsername]

This porn was paid for with porn, yes.

[SeiKeo]

don't know why we haven't tried doing more of that

[SpoonyViking]

don't know why we haven't tried doing more of that

Bully Kirby some more!

[ItsaRandomUsername]

Bully Kirby some more!

I actually would be very down with another lemon contest. The last one was a blast to write for!

[Kirby]

I thought people were starting to get burnt out on contests.

[Rafflesiac]

Hi, hello, still feeling the burn

[Leftovers]

Well that was a veritable extravaganza.

[SpoonyViking]

I thought people were starting to get burnt out on contests.

To be fair, I am a little bit, though that's mostly because I underestimated my workload this semester. I do hope we'll have another Secret Santa contest, though!

[alfheimwanderer]

How delightful