Fire Emblem: Sacred Stones - Ephraim's Vice

Ephraim fell asleep almost instantly, but bolted up early in the morning. He instantly remembered what had happened, and only dragged his leather pants back on before going out of the door. A few maids were walking down the corridor, and he forced himself to wait as they passed him, glancing bashfully at his bare chest between greetings.



When they turned a corner and went out of sight, Ephraim carefully opened Eirika's door and looked inside from the narrow crack. She was already up.



"Who's there?" she called, cheerful. Ephraim decided to step in to avoid rousing suspicion, not realizing how unusual it was for him to go knocking on Eirika's door at this hour, barefeet and barechested.



"Good morning, Eirika," he called, and realized his error when his sister's gaze rested on his chest, much more openly than the maids'.



"Good morning. You're up early," she said. She was brushing her flowing green hair, and seemed to be having some trouble with it. She was still wearing the negligee, which promoted her bust now that she was sitting up.



"Ah... uhm, yes. I woke early and wanted to check if you were up as well, so that we might have our breakfast earlier than usual."



"Just as well. I'm going to be a while, my hair is somehow stickier today. Must have slobbered into it," she said with a giggle and a radiant smile. "Will you be going like that, Ephraim?"



After a second's pause, Ephraim came to. "No, I will go change, and then inform the kitchen."



After closing Eirika's door, Ephraim breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't noticed. Yet her comment and just seeing her again brought a new stirring inside him. While he put on a shirt and boots, and while he made his way to the kitchen, Ephraim considered his sister again with a new heat welling in his veins.



Some time later, Ephraim was waiting in a separate dining room close to their chambers. Their father was still asleep, and most probably would not be joining them for the early breakfast. What would he say if he knew? What would happen, not just to Ephraim, but to Eirika, and their father, and the kingdom, if somebody were to know how he felt, what he had done?



Even as he considered this, Ephraim was struggling off against perverted indulgences rising from within him. When the chef arrived, he made to look as if he was looking out of the window, to conceal the straining lump in his pants. He thanked the chef and dismissed him, then turned around and went next to the table, ready to sit down instantly if Eirika or somebody else were to arrive.



There was a pot of steaming porridge, berry puddings with an appealing deep red color, and pieces of cake besides a jug of cold, fresh water. Ephraim fidgeted uncomfortably in his cramped pants. How long would Eirika take?



He sat down for a while, his thoughts and his erection didn't subside. He couldn't sit in quiet with Eirika like this. If he could help it, he needed to release his urges to calm himself.



Ephraim stood up, took one of the bowls for the porridge and went into the small kitchen compartment next to the dining room, closing the door behind him. He let his member out of its confines, and proceeded to pleasure himself, with distressing but helplessly enticing thoughts and images of Eirika flashing in his mind. What he had seen last night, her breasts and then her face covered with his seed, moving on to her typically short skirt and beautiful thighs, and what lie between them. All the time worried that Eirika would arrive, and considering what he would do then, Ephraim indulged in his fantasies in feverish pursuit of release. Finally, he came forcefully, gathering his spend in the bowl, and breathed heavily, composing himself.



Hoping that he looked presentable with nothing out of the ordinary, Ephraim went back into the dining room. Still quiet. Despite his release, he struggled to contain himself and his heart raced as he proceeded with his unwholesome whim.



Ephraim took the berry pudding, and spilled some of the copious fluid into it from the bowl. The whitish substance stood in stark contrast from the red pudding, and he took a spoon to mix it. His semen vanished into the pudding. He licked the spoon clean and put it next to the other pudding at where he would sit. Then he took one of the cake plates, and carefully spilled his seed from the bowl onto it, to look like a glazing. He placed the semen-glazed cake next to Eirika's pudding.



Finally, he scooped porridge out from the pot into the bowl in his hand, and took another spoon to mix the remainder of his spill into it.



"Oh! You didn't have to put it out for me."



Ephraim gave a start, then placed the bowl next to the pudding and the cake and turned to Eirika. She was wearing her red shirt, but instead of her usual skirt, she had tight pants that hugged her thighs and highlighted her long legs.



"Good, you are here. It's still hot." He scooped a bowl of porridge for himself and poured a mug of water for both of them. He held out her chair, and as she sat down, he noticed her pants clung tightly to her behind as well.



"Ooh, cake! Yummy!"



Ephraim moved around the table and sat down.



"It's got something on the top," Eirika said and held out her tongue, licking some of Ephraim's semen from the cake. He held out his breath. "Hmm. I've smelled something like this in the kitchen sometimes. It's not very sweet, I suppose it is there to balance the cake."



As they talked, Ephraim realized that watching his sister eat his seed, in the porridge, then the pudding, and the cake, was not helping to quell his urgings. He was straining against his pants during most of the breakfast, especially as she commented that the pudding had a fuller texture than normally. His gaze frequently strayed to the round swells of her shirt, and he could only barely focus on what they were talking about.



The rest of the day went normally, but every moment he spent with Eirika convinced him that he needed to repeat last night's illicit excursion. Even as he fought with his misgivings of his desire, he looked forward more and more to the evening. There was a frightful certainty about it, he knew he was going to go through with it again, despite all the risks. It was the only way he could restrain himself from going further and risking even more.