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Create-A-Slut	By : salarta Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 19741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Author's Note: I blame geedee for the length! It was his prodding that made me write more than the first sequence. Anyway, hey, proof I WILL go back to a story I've written in the past if I'm inspired enough. I've had this idea for Sophitia for a long time, and with the prospect of none of the characters I actually like returning in SC5, I felt like writing it. I took the liberty of mixing Greek and Roman history for the purposes of the fic. In case any of you out there are as into this kind of history as I am, I've supplied some of the references I used in a thread at the following link (I'm not allowed to provide it as a sub-chapter): http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/22399-references-for-meretrix-and-maia-chapter-of-soul-calibur-iv-create-a-slut/ . Credits to Anonelbe and geedee for looking it over, and geedee for inspiration on Cassandra.

Rose and violet petals swirled on holy wind. Brilliant cleansing sunlight shone through open marble archways. She basked in its warmth, the first lift of fear to her heart since she set on her newest journey in the service of a monster for the sake of her cursed child.

Sophitia walked down the grey-bricked road, glancing to the statues of one of her great Greek gods, Demeter, as the two likenesses bore the weight of an arch in crumbling ruin. She knew the place only by its retelling by her mother and father, a long-forgotten arena of champions for the rule of law. No, more than law, the shrine embodied the spirit of matrimony, of the great marriage customs she lovingly swore to uphold for her husband Rothion. Its name: Thesmophoros' Imperial Garden.

Amidst this backdrop, a massive city-wide temple of the gods, Sophitia paused as she spotted the very object she sought hanging between Demeter's statues. Raising her hand to the familiar holy garment, she ran a finger over the sheer smooth silk of its making.

"This is my old toga from the last time I went on a journey," she said. "Why would Soul Edge's servant steal my clothes, hang them in a temple and claim to have found an ancient armor I could wear to replace these tattered rags?"

"Sophitia!!"

"Cassandra?!" She spun, emerald eyes setting on her sister. One step toward her set Cassandra in fighting stance, shield and sword raised as a warning. Despite the show of strength, Sophitia saw past the shield to her sister's face, terse with dread.

"Sophitia, don't you realize what you're doing?" Cassandra called. "Come back home with me and we'll find another way to... where's that music coming from?"

Carried on the wind, Sophitia heard trumpets blaring, strings taut and played, a whole bombastic orchestra encroaching like a shadow over them. Turning back to the garment, one thought pervaded all the questions and concerns that riddled her mind.

"I need to change into these clothes."

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Cassandra demanded. Her leg shifted but an inch before it froze, every muscle bound, trapping her in statuesque pose. Even her eyes went unblinking, her mouth the sole mote of freedom left. "Sophitia, I... I can't move!"

Pulling the pin-daggers out, Sophitia tossed them away and held the toga in front of her. Observing its state, she checked back at the wall and wondered. "Wait, where's my battle bra? I can't wear something like this without my chest covered."

She released the garment from her grip, yet as she did, it floated before her. Before she could step back, the same unseen force lifted her from the ground.

It began.

Her current garb, a two-strapped braless dress with short skirt, tore clean from her body. Her boobs jiggled, a minor distraction as her belt unclasped, and her current sandals unlatched from their shin-greaves. Her earrings popped open and slid from her lobes. Her small armored pads fell from her shoulders. The turquoise gemstones of her shinguards and armlets ripped free of their encasements.

Spun once more, she bore her nudity to Cassandra. Her shield slipped off her forearm. Her sword fled her hand. Sophitia looked to the sky in prayer. "Gods, protect me!"

"If only I could move. Sophitia!" Cassandra stared, her gaze locked to watch every alteration made to her beloved sister.

The toga wrapped around Sophitia's torso. See-through white silk stretched diagonal across her left breast, teasing a large blush-pink nipple equal to the nub seen plain as day on her uncovered right tit. Amber jewels spun and melded into the holes where her cleaner-cut gemstones once laid. New sandals snapped onto her feet, in synch with a gilded girdle-belt bearing unique Greek phrasing, as all other metal about her transmuted to the same shining precious ore that would become her heart's second-most desire. Gold hoop earrings and pieces ornamented her head, each trinket weaving into her hair as if added to the braid on creation.

Sophitia clamped her eyes tight as the spike of a hot needle to her mind joined her evolving makeover. New knowledge and emotions coursed through her like electricity, perverting memories of walking the streets in her Grecian wardrobe with the revealing light of history. Her defenses fell to every 'divine' revelation, horrified gasps transforming into a naughty smile. Basking in the sun, she floated to the ground and licked her lips as she looked upon her sister.

"You followed me? Naughty child," Sophitia said, walking toward her dear Cassandra as the strange song faded out.

Cassandra gawked at the new Sophitia. The obscene new size of her sister's remade bust put the blessed pair on equal size to her head, one lounging comfortably in the open air. White lead caked the whole of Sophitia's face, gaudily accented by heavy rouge over her cheeks and soot darkening her eyebrows.

"By the gods! Sophitia... you look like a whore!"

"The word is prostibula, Cassandra... at least until I register my name on the vectigal meretricium. And why shouldn't I? I already have the yellow hair of a natural born prostitute, that saves me a lot of coin other meretrices would have to pay for wigs to obey the hair color law."

Cassandra paled as she viewed the girdle, and its lovingly inscribed message: 'Ten gold coins open the gates to Elysium'. The sandals were no better; where Sophitia tread in the dirt, there remained the vivid impression of ΑΚΟΛΟΥΘΙ within her footprints, instructing everyone who saw it to 'Follow Me'.

"Do you like it?" Sophitia asked. "With these sandals, all men looking for sex know the path to take for the loosest streetwalker in all of Greece. Did you know our ancestors started the term 'streetwalker' by advertising this way? It's a perfect companion to the whore clothes I've always loved to wear!"

"Whore clothes?!" Cassandra grimaced at what she heard, before reason reminded her of the circumstances she entered. She scowled. "Sophitia, you know there's nothing wrong with the clothing you wear. It's the evil possessing you that's making you say these things. Soul Edge, get out of my sister's body!"

Sophitia's crass laughter echoed over the ruins of her heritage. "You really have no idea, do you? That's okay, the truth hurts so much I allowed myself to forget it. I love our country's culture, in a time when most of our people have put it behind them. I follow ancient customs and pray to ancient gods, and this whole time I was dressing to fit a role forsaken in modern times."

"Shut up! Clothing does not make a woman a slut!" Cassandra protested, dread settling in her chest, and the gap between her eyebrows crinkling as a sly smile formed on her sister's lips.

"Maybe not by modern standards... but I'm a lover of ancient Greece, and the laws are very clear. The only women allowed to wear togas, a garment they were required by law to wear, were adulterers and prostitutes."

The words hit her hard as Astaroth's hammer. Shock caused the younger sibling's jaw to slacken, forced to observe the dusty, painted mask of an Athenian harlot. Cassandra fought for control of herself, failing as her body levitated. "Sophitia, this isn't you. Remember your husband and children. Think of Rothion, and Patroklos, and Pyrrha!"

Sophitia sighed. "I'm disappointed. The signs were right in front of you, and you never saw them. If you had studied our culture like I asked, you would have known I secretly wanted to be a cheating slut the day I discarded my leather vitta. Such bands around the head were emblems of virtuous matrons, as forbidden to my kind as the chaste stola."

"This is... ugh..."

Cassandra could hardly bear this disgusting parody flaunting the sexual explosion of her sister's body like some adult toy. Each piece of jewelry sparkled in the sun, while the exposed sagging tit heaved with a light rush of pink. The sign was one that left Cassandra's mouth dry, as she knew all too well what it meant.

"Stop! Do you realize what you're thinking? We're sisters."

"What harm is there in acting on the love we have for each other?" Sophitia said, teasing with sexy lilt and coo to her voice. "Our ancestors were much more open about their feelings. I wear showy gold pieces in my hair like this feather to attract customers, and only lowly, vulgar women adorn themselves with amber. I've done everything in my power to ensure men know I'm still available when my belly is ripe with child."

"You intend to get pregnant?!" Cassandra screeched, like a songbird snatched by a handler, trapped in a cage of unseen bars. "You can't. No... you won't! Who will support you when you violate your marriage? Who will care for such a child?"

Sophitia grinned. It was a wide, dark grin, with enough power to blot out the soothing power of Helios' fading light. A poison of words darted from her lips as she answered.

"You."

The orchestra picked up again as Cassandra's weapons clattered to the ground. Her blue vest tore away in front, and her panties slipped off her legs, right behind her thigh-high boots. In the tornado of clothing, not one piece remained to decorate her sullen frame. With a modest bosom sporting tiny light pink teats, and a fair thatch of blonde about her thin pussy lips, Cassandra gasped to her sister's hand roving over her abs.

Sophitia explained, "It's not uncommon for a meretrix to have many children. As I age, my body will become worn out and useless, and I'll need Pyrrha and any new daughters to take my place and support me in old age. Can you imagine what I will look like seventeen years from now, when my arms are too weak to hold a sword of the gods, and my loins are too loose to hold the 'swords' of men?"

The newly made slut churlishly giggled at the thought of her grown-up children, one manly stud awaiting her seduction and one buxom amateur harlot with an early start on her career. "Until then, I need a maid and midwife."

"I refuse!" Cassandra shouted. "I wouldn't be a good servant anyway. I don't care about ancient Greece."

"You don't have to care about our old traditions, you proved yourself as a midwife when you helped me deliver my first two children."

"What are you going to do, then? Put me in a toga?" Cassandra challenged.

"No, the ancient Greek attire for maids and midwives was unflattering to say the least. You always did love modern culture, this time I think we'll alter one of your old costumes with details from Gaul. A modern uniform for a modern woman."

From nothing, Cassandra's old dress from her first journey materialized, transformed. Behind a newly prevailing blue cloth and gold trim, white lace sublayered at every edge. The dress squeezed across her larger proportions, grown since her younger years, as the sleeveless gaps slid over her upraised arms.

"Sophitia, don't!" She pleaded, as the straps settled on her shoulders.

"You think I'm doing this? I only prayed for my sister to support me, and the gods answered my prayers."

Wind blew over Cassandra's small cleavage, the top dipping to a faint wisp of her aureoles. Her newest collar returned, the pink ribbon redone into a cute bow tie. Black pantyhose stretched and tightened against the contours of her shapely ass, straining between her growing, pillowy head-sized butt cheeks and conforming clean into her full cameltoe. As her plush backside expanded well past her microskirt, the front of her tiny garment hid what the back could not, the final touches adding to her uniform.

High heels slipped over her feet. White gloves fit to each finger, reaching past her elbows. Blue, buttoned cuffs clipped over her wrists. An apron tied around her back. Pink armbands appeared on her biceps, while the hairband she loved so much changed into a lacy maid headdress before her eyes and set itself upon her head. Her mind altered as she took up her feather duster and platter, the weapons of her new profession.

She set down, heels clicking and music dying on the wind as she smiled at her sister.

"Mistress! Forgive me for being so stubborn. Your maia, your midwife, is ready to serve you." Cassandra bowed low, a peculiar change from the more common curtsey expected of women... until they heard a loud rip of silk.

Sophitia rounded her sister, smirking as she investigated the giant pantyhose tear down her sister's crack. The mountains of ass parted with Cassandra's pose to reveal the tight little hole, drawn together with fear of what it knew would come. She couldn't resist. Raising a finger, Sophitia plunged it into her sister's rosebud, the hole clamping upon her digit.

"The Cassandra of our myths was a servant too," Sophitia said. "And like a good servant, you appear to take great pleasure in being fucked in the ass!"

"Yes, mistress!" Cassandra moaned, blushing as her master, her sister, unraveled her new secret shame.

Dampness spread over her cling-wrapped mound as Sophitia dug knuckle-deep into her wide rear. Memories of butt-stomping her opponents with a more modest mass mingled with lurid fantasies of taking it one step further, sitting on the face of that ninja slut Taki or the oiran Setsuka and rubbing her anal cleft against their noses. As crude of a move as it was, it paled next to the disgrace of a tear in her sheer pantyhose announcing her fat ass to the masses.

The finger exited with a pop. Cassandra winced.

"Rise," Sophitia commanded.

Stiffing her back, she felt the pantyhose stitch together, repaired by the same invisible force that granted her the freedom to become a slave to her sister. She took the brazen point to ask, "Mistress... now that you've become the embodiment of our culture's ancient whores, where should we go for you to begin your new life as a meretrix?"

Sophitia simply smiled. "Home."

-------------------------------------

They gawked. They stared. They gossiped. Strutting down the streets of Athens, Sophitia waved like a model down a walkway to the citizens as they took a good look at her wares. She puffed her chest out proudly, stroking her free breast and biting the long amber-painted nail of her forefinger with the fondness of a naughty leper glorying in the ripples made by her taint.

"I never knew there were so many promising clients in Athens," Sophitia spoke, louder than of comfort to the many housewives she once called her kin. "I wonder which of these women failed to satisfy their husbands well enough to keep their coin and cocks away from me."

"Sophitia Alexandra is a cheating, man-stealing whore!" One woman shouted.

"The term is 'famosa moecha', it stands for notorious adulteress," Sophitia grinned as she taunted the glaring, bewildered wives. "You may also call me a circulatrix for taking my business to the streets, but it would be best to call me a meretrix. It cost me a lot of your husbands' gold coins to bring back the vectigal meretricium and become the first newly registered prostitute in Athens."

"Has she no shame?!" Another woman despaired.

"She's fallen into temptation! Her pagan gods have doomed her to an unclean life!" Set another accusation.

"She's always been a slut in slut's clothing, trying to pass herself off as a maiden. Poor Rothion is left to father two children she conceived from whoring herself with other men in secret."

The insults splattered like cooling rain upon her, as she advertised her body down the street. The last cruel claim, false as it was, left a pleasant bubbling to her womb as the people of Athens reshaped her clean past into something obscene right in front of her. Head held high, she heard the little chirping of her bird of a maid.

"If I may, mistress, I think it's safe to say you've laid with all of their husbands," Cassandra said.

Sophitia licked trace white lead from the edge of her painted hussy lips. "They only have themselves to blame. They should have known my true nature when I first began walking around Athens wearing the Coan silk loved by our prostitute ancestors, and leaving my bakery with my face caked with flour. But, I suppose I should give them a consolation for taking their husbands for myself. Cassandra, let them eat cake!"

Nodding, Cassandra approached the nearest line of women and raised her platter. Pastries dotted its silvery pool, their fresh bread aroma teasing their taste. Her friendly smile turned to an open-mouthed gasp as her serving dish toppled from her clumsy hands. The treats spilled, rolling into the dirt at her high-heeled feet. She reached down to gather the sodden samples.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!

Color drained from the younger Alexandra's face as the wind blew into her ass crack. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw the formerly enraged scores of women snickering at her butt's unseemly size busting out of the neat confinement of her pantyhose. A shamed, red hot blush grew over her pale white cheeks.

"With a butt this big, I'm starting to think I should've joined a circus..." Cassandra griped.

"Don't be silly, I need you with me to take care of my needs. A good meretrix never cooks and cleans when she can lie on her back and take one more man for a little extra money."

Guiding Cassandra's chin higher, Sophitia bent down to her level and planted a firm, tussling passion kiss to her lips. A quick tongue tease, rolling around inside Cassandra's mouth, brought the younger sister to a slaked, blissful eye-roll toward the back of her head. Saliva stretched between them as Sophitia pulled away, petting her maid's cheek.

"Mmm, tastes delicious," Sophitia praised as their drool chain broke and splattered on her chest. "Hurry and clean this mess, we need to get back in time for our first clients."

"Y-yes mistress!" Cassandra boomed with pride. Her hands snatched at the soiled food strewn about her, wriggling her tush and humming a cheery tune as the crowd looked on.

"Not only has she forsaken her marriage, she's corrupted her own sister into becoming her slave," another woman lamented. "One of these days, poor Rothion's going to find her with another ill-gotten child."

"That's what you're worried about? A baker turned slut baking another bun in her oven?" Sophitia said, patting her slim belly. "If you're so concerned, this time I'll use a method of birth control I read from one of our great ancient writers."

Stepping to the middle of the marketplace, Sophitia spun once to show off her full figure. Then, taking the sage advice of a long-gone Hippokratic expert on the nature of woman, Sophitia crouched low, pressed her rear against her heels, and launched herself high in one big jump. Her freed breast floated with the grace of a boulder during a massive earthquake, bouncing up and down the palette of her chest with her rise and fall. Seven times, she carried out leaps of faith passed down through the ages in writing, halting at the last number and rising with a smile to the overly concerned matron.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"You're... you're a fool."

"Why, thank y-" Sophitia paused. Down the street, over the heads of busy men and women shopping for their wares, she saw them. Two people she spent the past few months evading, sure they would drag the sisters from their happy sinful lives into a hell of chastity. Returning to Cassandra's side, she whispered into her ear. "It looks like our family has found us."

Cassandra's head jerked up, as if in her exposed stance, she'd been mounted from behind by the great Zeus himself. "Oh no! What are we going to do?!"

Sophitia smirked. "What else? They're very dear to our hearts. Let us hurry home and prepare a special gift for their arrival."

-------------------------------------

"We've been searching for weeks and we haven't found a clue!" Rothion shouted to the heavens. Citizens of Athens milled about them in the market, the daily bustle compounded with the heat of a summer afternoon. A comforting hand set on his shoulder.

"Don't despair," Lucius said, his eyes shining with the light of hope. "I know my sisters. They're strong women. They can take care of themselves."

"I know that, but we haven't heard word from them in so long, and these people refuse to tell us anything. It's as if a dark cloud covers their very lives. If the gods favor my wife, why have they not given us a sign of their well-being?" Draped in despair, Rothion bowed his head... and raised it as he saw the markings that eluded them for so very long. "Lucius, look!"

"'Follow Me'," Lucius observed, in its ancient Grecian styling. "There's your sign. This whole time, all we had to do was look down."

They traveled along their footstep guides, past vibrant street shops, down dank rat-infested alleys, eyes cast to the earth as Athenians watched them with a cornucopia of wrought emotions. At their journey's end, they marveled at the concrete structure, unaware it held the darkest secret kept from them in all of Greece.

"A bakery... with signs written in our ancient language. Only Sophitia would..." Rothion touched the gold placards, puzzled over what their presence meant. Why would his wife claim to run off on a journey, then return to start a new bakery in secret? He turned the gilded knob, entering under the door's stone archway with Lucius behind him.

Sunlight poured through windows, candles shedding light upon what shadows remained. As their eyes adjusted, Lucius pushed Rothion aside and stepped forth, gawking at the sight of...

"Cassandra?"

"Welcome to our bakery!" Cassandra smiled. Her frilly skirt billowed as she approached the men, extending her platter of baked goods. "Would you like to try a sample?"

The men cast one confused glance between each other before Rothion said, "Why didn't you send word telling us you were in Athens this whole time?"

To this, she winked, raising her pointer finger playfully. "I got Sophitia to give up on Soul Edge and come back. We decided we wanted to start a new bakery of our very own, independent from our parents, and we wanted to wait until we were a success so we could surprise you!"

"That's... that's great," Lucius cautiously said. "But that still doesn't explain-"

"My maid outfit? Oh, it's nothing. Guys like seeing me dressed up in this girly thing, and besides, Sophitia needs someone to clean up while she's busy in back whipping up some batter." She said, adding in a mischievous whisper, ".... baby batter."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Cassandra coyly lied. She shoved the platter forth again. "Come on, you found us out and spoiled the great surprise we had planned for you. You could at least try a cupcake."

"Well... I have gone for too long without my wife's cooking," Rothion said.

One bite. Like the fairy tales that ran from child to child, twisting into new details with every generation, the trusting men took up their generous gift and brought it to their mouths. Rothion chomped into the creamy delight of a vanilla mini-cake, while Lucius, fair-haired as his cherished sisters, took a bite into one sugar-laden cookie.

Cassandra smirked. Setting the platter on the nearby display counter, she wedged herself between them and wrapped her arms over their shoulders. As they swallowed, she leaned closer to her brother, invading his intimate buffer space of comfort. "How's the taste?"

Lucius reared back. Strong, fierce, his sister drowned out the aroma of fresh bread with her potent, musky cock breath puffing from her lips, even as his muscles relaxed and he felt an awkward stir in his pants.

"Your breath stinks," he bluntly stated.

Cassandra grinned. "I should hope so! If I don't clean up every speck of her misdeeds to perfection, my mistress won't let me have any sex."

Questions over the perverse remark evaporated like water in the sun in his head. He replied, "You... you should wash your mouth out."

"Cassandra is my maid," a voice called from the back room. "She's expected to provide VERY thorough cleaning services."

The door drapery to the kitchen shifted, set aside as the star baker came out of hiding. She smiled softly at the pair, as cum dribbled down her divine features. White mess caked in splotches over the landscape of her body, dried and gooey alike, revealed all the clearer as she moved around the counter to show off her clumped strands of yellow hair and the ivory rivers running down her pale thighs. She lifted her skirt, showing off the pounds of clients' seed dripping like a leaky faucet from her sloppy motherly loins to the oak floor.

"This is for you, my dearest husband," Sophitia said with a faint smile. "This is your whore of a wife's cunt in service to the gods. While you stayed at home and cared for our children like a pitiful excuse for a man, I went out and found my true calling on the streets. What do you have to say, now that you've learned I'm nothing more than a famosa moecha?"

"I... I..." Rothion stuttered. He grasped at the straws of reason, each slipping as the drug laced into his treat commandeered his free will. The passions of Dionysus swelled within him, his erection pushing at his pants and peeking over the waistband. His senses melted with the fires of warped desire as he looked on his wife and said, "... I love it!"

"Really? You enjoy knowing I ran off to start a new life as a prostitute, charging thousands of other men and women to use what I swore in marriage to save for you?" she asked.

"Yes! You've spread your legs to accept the love of Greece itself. Our marriage is but a small price to pay. I... I want to support you!"

"Mistress!" Cassandra chirped. "Did I do good?"

Patting her sister on the head, Sophitia nodded. "Yes, maid. You put on a very convincing show. There's hope for you yet."

"Yay! I'm learning!" Cassandra bellowed, rushing over to hug her sister.. and tripping over herself. A few flailing missteps later, she hunched over, catching the counter. It was too late. Her pantyhose tore once more, her wide load spreading to unveil the cum-splattered folds of her anus right in the middle of her parted valley. She gave a sad little whimper as Sophitia landed a playful smack to her rear. "Ooh..."

"Cheer up sister, you're going to give our brother a free sample. Isn't that right, Lucius?"

"I am?" he questioned. Possessed of the same drug as Rothion, he licked his lips to the jiggling pillows as they settled. "It's... wrong."

"Don't you remember the ancient texts our parents spoke to us?" Sophitia said, strutting over to Lucius. Her hands dug into his pants, rubbing the lust-petrified member straining behind a thick veil of rugged leather. "Sons had sex with their mothers. Daughters lusted after their fathers. Brothers and sisters shared each other freely to show the love of family. We want to be true to our ancestors with our service. Don't you love us?"

His will eroded like ruins in the sands of time. His buckle came off swiftly, his pants lowered, his erection freed from its confines like a caged animal. He angled for a thrust of his mighty spear and plowed clean into his young sister's loose hole.

"Ooh Lucius!" Cassandra cried. A lone tear rolled down her cheek, joy enrapturing her mouth agape, as she panted air laced with the cummy smell of past men from her lungs. "Do it! Make my ass yours!"

Sidling away from her good work, Sophitia looked at her husband. She scowled, lips curling and soot-laden brows wrinkling over her painted face, as she looked from Rothion's pants tossed in the corner to his stiff sword. His lusting gaze crinkled her nose. "What do you think you're doing?"

"It's been weeks since I saw you," Rothion said. "It's time for your welcome home gift!"

"You wish." The stubborn slut bounced to a sit on her counter, crossing her legs. Glaring down at her husband, she tapped her elbow with a finger. "I've had sex with every man in Athens since we last talked. Many of my clients are better than you, and they paid me for my service, while you had plenty of free use and two children from me. What could you offer me?"

Spotting the girdle about her waist, Rothion read its inscription and perked up. "Gold coins! Ten coins open the gates to Elysium, yes?"

Sophitia scoffed at the offer. "For everyone else, yes, but not you. If you want me to go back to that pathetic stick between your legs, I deserve a lot more than a few measly coins or a useless sword and shield."

"Then... then take all of my gold!" He scrambled back to his pants. Untying a bag from his belt, he tossed it to Sophitia. "That's all the money I saved since we were married. I was going to use it to search for you."

"Now you're going to use it to pay for sex with your wife, one last time." She weighed it in her hand, guessing the value to at least a hundred coins, then threw the sack over her shoulder. "I deserve more, but it's good enough. But don't treat me gentle. I am not the soft, doting matron I pretended to be while I laid in bed with you in the past. I'm a nasty meretrix, and I want it rough."

"OOOH LUCIUS, YOU'RE SO BIG!" Cassandra screamed. Her legs, reduced to shaking pillars of jelly, fought to hoist her weight even with her brother. Every slam of his cock inside her anal pit mashed his crotch against her bubbly, cushioned butt, catching the raw force of his thrusts like a sex air bag. She dared a glance back to him, blushing as her gloved hand pressed into her lower back, emerald eyes gazing into his own.

Lucius teased, "I need to be if I have any hope of getting past your balloon butt."

"H-hey! I may have a huge ass, but.. but..."

"Butt."

A grabby hand squeezed one of her lower cheeks. Following the arm, she peered back at her sister, whose grasp guided her own hand back to the bakery counter. She eyed Sophitia, bent over, back end raised, perfectly matched to her in pose.

"Remember what I told you," Sophitia said. "When you have a client, you and your body are his to do with as he wishes. Isn't that right, Rothion?"

"Right!"

He leapt from a crouch near his discarded pants. Ogling the cum-dripping snatch of his wife past her hiked-up toga skirt, he descended upon her with his member jutting out, plowing through the creamy pond of Sophitia's past mates for the day. His hands wandered over the gentle expanse of her blossomed bust, kneading at the doughy, supple globes like a pair of future fresh loaves.

"There are so many things I never told you, Rothion. About my toga, about my hair, about my vitta. The toga is the mark of an adulterous whore, a man's clothes meant only for those who have no place in the feminine world of women." Sophitia panted, throat dried by the day's earlier hot moans. "Hephaestus demanded I wear the toga and remove my vitta the day I decided to pick up my sword and shield as a man would do for his family. I may have breasts and a vagina, but I no longer count as a woman, Rothion. I- ah!"

"I don't care about the past." Rothion growled, as he snatched her whipping braid like the reins of a sex-raging bull. Tugging sharp, he reared Sophitia's head back, leaned in and mashed his hand into her exposed boob. "I'm horny, and all I want right now is to fuck my slutty wife as hard as I can."

"Oh Rothion!!" Sophitia squealed. "You've finally learned! I don't want flowers, or chocolates, or a happy home life with well-behaved kids. All I want is to be used up like a proper meretrix."

"Your wish has been granted."

Under her husband's drugged guidance, Sophitia's body hummed with the cadence of lust. She rocked back and forth, pushing her arms' strength against the counter to resist his pounding as sweat dripped from her shaved pits. Whenever she lowered her head, she jerked up again with a fierce yank to her leash of a braid. Gold pieces wriggled their way free of her strands and scattered about her feet, mingling with the squishing geyser of white seed pumped from her hundredfold used cunt.

"Yeah! Take the might of a true Alexandran, Assandra!" Lucius yelled.

"A-Assandra? That's not a real name..." Cassandra cutely pouted, staring at the blank wall before her.

Sophitia giggled. "I like it. In fact, from now on your new name is Assandra."

"Ooooh! Fine, if I'm Assandra then you're So-tit-thia!"

"Sounds too forced. It... oh... ooooh... ooooohh yeeeesssss Rothion." She slumped, melting to the passionate new batter he brought with each pound to her fermenting womb. Her breasts squeaked down her display counter's glass front as she drooped, half-lidded eyes dreamily blinking through orgasmic color spots. Drool ran over her chin, her back end barely held up by her husband's gruff hands.

"Hey! No fair!" Cassandra cried. "You said we were gonna cum together!"

"Rothion is... too good... when he doesn't hold back..." Sophitia sighed.

"Get back up here," he commanded, "I'm not done with you."

Like a man pulling a bucket from a well, Rothion lifted her upper body by her hair and dropped it against the counter top. With a tight grasp of her braid leash, he laid into his wife anew.

-------------------------------------

Eight hours. That was the time it took before Rothion and Lucius departed, convinced by the slack, sleeping bodies of the Alexandra sisters to return home.

Sophitia's eyes fluttered, her white lead mascara about her chin in a pool of drool. She squeezed Cassandra's hand, watching her sister awake beside her.

Grog cleared from the younger Alexandran's vision. Smiling at the first morning's view of Sophitia's slutty, made-up face, Cassandra glanced at her own reflection in the mirrors on the counter's lowest shelves. Red puffiness rimmed around her eyes. Her lily pale skin matched her feathery blonde hair.

"I look like a drug addict," Cassandra noted.

"Every woman involved in Soul Edge looks that way, but who should deserve it more than the Alexandra sisters?" Sophitia said. Her knees slid across the slick semen-splattered floor, lowering her upraised rear. Turning onto her back, she pushed herself to rest against the counter and patted Cassandra's head.

"Sophitia... my butt hurts, and I... I'm thirsty."

"I should make you clean this mess first... but I'll make an exception this time. Come here."

Sagging, tired, the sore lump of sex known as Cassandra Alexandra crawled into her sister's lap. Cradled in Sophitia's arm, she leaned into her warm, cum-smeared right breast and wrapped her lips around its open teat. One tight suckle sent the motherly slut moaning from the delights of her baby sister's affections.

"Mmm... there's no better start to a fresh day of slutting your way through life." Sophitia stroked Cassandra's sloppy, messy hair while rubbing her cum-glued thatch of pubes. Such serenity, she thought, feeding her darling sister a hearty foaming breakfast as they laid together on the bakery floor. Milk trickled out the corners of Cassandra's mouth, dripping into the pools of musky, manly seed sticking to their legs.

As Cassandra took her last sucking drags from her sister's teat, she broke the breast-kiss and sat up. "Thank you, mistress. I'll start cleaning with my tongue right away."

"Nevermind."

Sophitia groaned as she rose on shaky legs. Stretching the soreness from her muscles, her maid quickly came up to support her.

"What do you want to do then, mistress?" Cassandra asked. Standing, a glob of Lucius' spunk threatened to escape before her pantyhose re-stitched, imprisoning her brother's seed deep within the bowels of her ass.

"Now that we've conquered my husband and our brother for an evening, I'm bored with Athens. I think it's time I set on a new journey."

"But mistress, what about your children, Patroklos and Pyrrha? Will you abandon them?"

To this, Sophitia shook her head. "I'll come back for them some day. They deserve to know for themselves what a famosa moecha their mother is, and they need to be trained to support me seventeen years from now besides."

"Okay, then where should would go first?"

She paused. Divine visions spiked in her mind from her toga. Her eyes rolled back. Her teeth clenched tight. Once it cleared, she looked to Cassandra. "The road will take us there. But first, let us profane the Thesmophoria together."

Shambling through the bakery's doors, they walked into the warm light of the sun together, Sophitia's sandals stamping her mating call into unpaved earth.

She left footprints in numerous cities, but none know her end.
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