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The Mother, The Sister, The Son	By : DrkVrtx Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 7932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Mother's Ministrations

Pyrrha scrambled to her feet, pulling the sheets off the bed haphazardly in her panic. A column of white light pierced through the ceiling of the room, illuminating the dark, dreary space. Pyrrha backed up until she felt the cold, hard wall at her back, and then she sank down, trembling fearfully. A figure began to form within the column of light, slowly becoming something solid and tangible. Pyrrha shrank away as a hand emerged, reaching out to her even though the figure dwelt on the opposite side of the room.

"Fear not, child", spoke a voice that filled the room, seeming to Pyrrha to come from everywhere at once. She jumped as she heard it seeming from the wall behind her, startled.

"Who - who are you?" Pyrrha cried out, though her cry was more akin to a hoarse whisper. She was such a timid girl, and her nature embodied this in all aspects. Even now, she clung tightly to herself as she sat on the floor, almost seeming to be at the point of tears. The hand pushed its way into the room, and at the end of it was connected an arm, the skin smooth and creamy, bearing nothing more than a golden band upon it. The arm led to a shoulder, and the shoulder led on to the torso of a woman as the figure stepped out of the column of light, which seemed to diminish as she did so.

Pyrrha stared at the woman in awe. She was clothed in white, though she could see her skin beneath it. At either side of her head, a styled fan of feathers pointed up into the air, and her face was hidden behind a heart-shaped mask of opaque, lilac glass. Faintly at the woman's back, Pyrrha could see wings, though they seemed to dim as she watched them until they were no longer in sight.

"I am here for you, child", the woman spoke.

"For...for me?" Pyrrha repeated, clutching herself tighter, "what do you want with me?"

"To bring you comfort", the woman said, spreading her arms as though to welcome Pyrrha into her embrace. Light seemed to emanate from her form as she did so, and inexplicably, a warmth settled upon Pyrrha whose origin she could not discern. For a moment, she loosened her arms about herself, but then she remembered the harshly spoken instructions Tira had drilled into her before she left the house. She had already broken one of them: she was not to make a sound.

"I don't know you", she said to the mysterious woman, "I can't trust you. Please, leave..."

The woman did nothing for a moment, and then she slowly passed a hand across her face. The mask began to disintegrate into spots of light that hung on the air for a moment before winking out of existence. Pyrrha gazed at them, captured by their beauty, drawn momentarily into a world of peace where she was required to do nothing more than admire the glittering light. But then her eyes were drawn to the woman's face. They widened in an instant.

"You - ! You look like me!"

Pyrrha was sure her heart had stopped, a feeling of shock she had never experienced before flooded her body, and she was completely unaware that her mouth hung open. The woman smiled at her kindly, her blue eyes sparkling as a thick, long braid of golden hair tumbled down her back.

"Pyrrha, my dear child, come".

Pyrrha could only stare at the woman, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then something within her broke, a wall she hadn't known existed. Tears came swiftly to her eyes and a moment later, a passionate cry burst from her lips. She scrambled over the bed and clung fiercely to her mother.

Pyrrha felt content as she lay her head in her mother's lap, looking up at the face that was both hers and yet not. She had still not been able to fully comprehend that there was someone else in the world who looked just like her, who had the same hair, the same eyes, the same curvature to the lips when smiling. Her mother had produced a mirror once and let her see them both side by side, she remembered fondly that she could not stop looking from the mirror to her mother beside her, and the laugh her mother produced as she did so.

It had been a week since her mother's first appearance. After revealing her face, allowing Pyrrha to come to the shocking revelation as to the identity of the person standing before her, Pyrrha had been unable to do nothing more than cry. Her mother had waited with her, stroking her head and rubbing her back in comfort, saying nothing but merely letting Pyrrha release her emotions. They had heard Tira return to the house, and her mother had promised to visit her daily before she disappeared, borne upwards in the column of light by which she had descended. Before leaving, she had passed a hand across Pyrrha's face, removing all traces of her tears. Pyrrha had quickly tidied to bed before Tira barged into the room, nothing was out of place.

Each day, her mother visited as promised. She had instructed Pyrrha to call to her whenever Tira left the house, and inspired by the form in which she took, Pyrrha had lowered herself to her knees and prayed, whispering to the heavens. Doubt chewed momentarily at her heart, but her mother had descended as promised, and Pyrrha could not suppress the smile that curved her lips as the warmth of relief and happiness spread through her.

"I used to hold you like this when you were a babe", her mother told her as she cradled Pyrrha's head in the crook of her arm, "you loved to suckle at my teat".

"I...I don't remember that", Pyrrha murmured, looking away as she felt her cheeks grow warm. Her mother stroked her hair fondly, looking away at the opposite wall with an unfocused gaze, clearly reminiscing.

"Of course not, darling. We tend not to remember the things we did at that age, consciously at least".

"Consciously?" Pyrrha repeated, turning her face to look up at her mother, her gaze drifting distractedly to her chest before snapping back to attention. Her mother looked down at her, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Indeed, a part of our minds, locked deep away beyond our reach...there, we remember".

"I don't quite understand, mother", Pyrrha admitted quietly.

"Our bodies remember", her mother said lightly. She reached to her chest, her hand sliding underneath the the shift and tugging down the length of white cloth that covered her breasts. They spilled out of the cloth, and Pyrrha found herself transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away from them. She felt a strange hunger, her lips suddenly becoming dry as her tongue twitched with longing. The swell of her mother's chest seemed to call out to her, plump and round, yet firm. The warm pink of her nipples filled her sight, and she was becoming gradually aware of a sudden desire to lick her lips.

"Come, child", her mother bid gently, "suckle".

Pyrrha stared blankly for a moment up at her mother, certain of what she had heard, yet disbelieving. She swallowed uncomfortably.

"Mother", she said quietly, turning away, "I don't...I don't think that would be proper".

"I am here to bring you comfort, Pyrrha, how ever that may be", her mother said, reaching down to turn Pyrrha's face, warm sincerity in her eyes. "You have missed out on so much of your life, my child. It is only you and I here, so come: take your pleasure".

Pyrrha slowly - hesitantly, lifted her head, assured by the supporting arm cradling her.

"I'm afraid there is no milk", she heard her mother say as she parted her lips, "but close your eyes, my child. Let your mind return to you the memories you have lost".

Pyrrha took her mother's teat gently into her mouth. Within moments, her body had taken control over itself. She suckled enthusiastically, lifting a hand to her mother's chest and gently massaging her breast as though to tease forth milk. Her mother leaned back against the wall, the sound of her quiet sigh filling the room.

Her mother sighed again as she lapped at the tip of her nipple with her tongue and Pyrrha grew more anxious. The sounds her mother had been making as she had been suckling over the past two days had at first confused her, and then begun to worry her deeply. Something had taken over her tongue and mouth and hands after she had first laid her lips upon her mother's breast, and at the back of her mind, she had begun to understand that what she was doing was far removed from the suckling she may have done as a babe. But her actions were beginning to draw numerous, continuous quiet sighs from her mother. Tira made the same noise whenever Pyrrha 'prattled at her' for too long.

"Mother", Pyrrha said, eventually working up the courage to speak, her voice small and fearful, "are you...bored with me?"

"Pyrrha?" her mother said, the tone of surprise clear upon her voice, "what do you mean?"

Noting the tone of surprise in her voice and growing even more confused, Pyrrha explained herself.

"Whenever I...suckle, you seem to sigh. Tira always sighs when I speak to her...she tells me I'm...boring".

Pyrrha looked away, feeling tears brimming at the corners of her eye. A moment later, she felt her mother's at her cheek, turning her face. An amused smile hung on her lips.

"Pyrrha, my dear, oh, how you have missed so much of life. Let me explain - no...no. Let me show you, Pyrrha".

She moved her hands to the hem of Pyrrha's shirt, pushing it upwards to her chest. Belatedly, Pyrrha realised what she was doing and instinctively raised her arms protectively over herself. But her mother spoke to her soothingly, sincerity and warmth in her voice, giving her the time and space she needed to settle herself. Slowly, she removed her arms. Her mother pushed the shirt up past her breasts and she felt the cool air upon her skin as her chest was exposed. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks as she flung her arms over herself once again. Her mother's smile was coloured with amusement, and her blue eyes sparkled. She took her own breast in hand.

"Come, Pyrrha. Suckle".

Pyrrha hesitantly leant forwards, still with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. But the moment she laid her lips upon the teat, her hands moved of their own accord, taking her mother's breast in hand. Her mother made no sound this time, but Pyrrha suddenly felt a hand at her chest. The hand, cool and gentle, cupped her breast. Pyrrha began to experience a sensation she couldn't name as her mother lightly kneaded her breast, and then she felt a quick pinch at her nipple and gasped, first in pain, but then -

"Pleasure, Pyrrha", her mother explained with a single word, circling her finger around Pyrrha's nipple, pinching it ever so lightly between two fingers, and then massaging her breast with light pressure once more. Pyrrha gasped with each ministration, her focus completely drawn to the alien sensation emanating from her chest and spreading through her body. Her hand weakly slipped from her mother's chest, falling to rest atop her mother's at her own chest, clutching it tightly after a moment as something that felt goodsurged through her.

"Oh", she gasped, "mother, what -" but another gasp stole her voice as her mother pinched her again, applying a little more pressure this time.

"There's more, my child", her mother said as she lowered her face down to Pyrrha's chest, "this is how I feel when you suckle".

Pyrrah's eyes snapped wide open and her free hand gripped the bedsheets in a vice-grip as her mother took her into her soft, warm mouth. Her tongue was strong and quick, flicking across the tip of her nipple. Pyrrha finally understood, and she did more than just sigh.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, her mother kneeling behind her, massaging the soreness from her shoulders. Tira had taken her out to the woods at the back of the house to meet the man she had hired to train to fight. Pyrrha knew it to be a farce: she was more than adept with her shield and sword and Tira knew this, but of her actual motive, Pyrrha was unsure. She tried not to worry about for the moment. Her mother's ministrations soothed her body, she had been fighting the man for longer than she cared to recall, and it hurt even to think about moving her arms. There was one thing she would always have the strength for, though.

Since that first time, she was unable to live throughout the day when Tira occupied the small house along with her without thinking about her mother and the way she touched her body. The sensation it sent flooding through her - pleasure...she adored it. She was addicted to the way her body grew warm as her mother's lips closed over her nipple and her hand squeezed her breast. They had sat face to face on one occasion, leaning against each other's forehead as they reached forwards to knead each other's breasts. Pyrrha remembered feeling the intense desire to touch her lips to her mother's in that moment as she gazed down at them, but she had resisted. For some reason, she was uncomfortable with that idea...

She lifted her aching arms to her shoulders, taking hold of her mother's hands. Her mother allowed her to bring them down to her chest, beginning to massage her breasts. Pyrrha sighed and closed her eyes, resting the back of her head on her mother's shoulder as she felt her nipples pinched and pulled. But all too soon, her mother's hands stopped.

"Mother?"

"There is something else I want to show you, Pyrrha", her mother explained, her hands falling away from her chest tracing a path down her body towards her crossed legs.

"What is it, mother?" Pyrrha asked, intrigued.

"A woman's centre", her mother replied, "the place where she will experience her greatest pleasure".

Her mother's hands reached the undershorts she had stripped down to and paused for a moment. Pyrrha watched them, curious and confused, for to her, there was no greater sensation than that which her mother's tongue and hands wrought within her. Those hands crept beneath the undershorts, and immediately Pyrrha understood - or thought she did, for she snatched her mother's hands back quickly.

"No - mother, don't. I...you shouldn't touch that place", she tried to explain, feel her cheeks grow hot. Her mother laughed softly.

"Pyrrha, my dear. This place is meant for much more than relieving yourself, much more. Trust me, I will show you".

Again, her mother gave her the time she needed to adjust herself to the idea, though it took much longer than it had previously. Slowly, she released her grip on her mother's wrist.

"Are you ready, Pyrrha?" her mother asked kindly. Pyrrha swallowed a whimper of embarrassment at the idea of the place her mother wanted to touch, she could not see how it would make her feel the sensation she enjoyed when her chest was pleasured. But she had also not understood how her suckling had given her mother pleasure, and she had trusted her then, when she wanted to show her.

"Okay", she whispered. "I'm ready, mother".

"Good girl", her mother murmured, "here I come", she said in a playful, amused tone.

Pyrrha winced pre-emptively as her mother's hands slid beneath her undershorts, and then she felt the lightest touch of fingertips against her. Her eyes snapped open.

"...Mother?"

It felt...she couldn't quite explain it. All she knew was that her heart was beginning to race, and she could faintly hear its beat in her ear as though it had been ripped out and pressed to the side of her head. Her mother didn't respond to her. Pyrrha 's hands fell to the bed and the sheets bunched up into her fists as her mother's fingers began to trace small circles, the shapes pulling open and pushing together her lower lips. Her breaths quickly grew heavy and frequent as her mother flattened the fingers of one hand against her, applying a slight pressure as she began a small circular motion. Something rose up to Pyrrha's throat, threatening to burst from her lips and she turned her head into her mother's shoulder, scared to open her mouth. A whimper escaped her though, when she felt two fingers pull her lower lips apart and a third dipped between them, tracing a very shallow line up and down, up and down...

A weak cry slipped from her lips as her mother's finger traced upwards further than before, and seemed to settle upon a point that positively flooded her being with a sensation that was twice as strong than what she had experienced as of yet. A few moments later, that single digit began to move in a circular motion, accompanied with slight pressure. At the same time, another finger crept between her lips, penetrating deeper and deeper.

Pyrrha groaned.

"Mother", she gasped as she turned her face upwards. Her mother's eyes were hot, the sparkle of amusement consumed by a fire, and Pyrrha gazed into it, enthralled.

"Mother - I think I'm going to scream. I don't want to scream - mother - Tira made me promise I wouldn't make any noise - I don't want to - "

Her mother's lips settled atop hers. Pyrrha moaned fiercely into the kiss as pleasure burned through her body.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Pyrrha?"

"Why...why did you abandon me?"

"I have been waiting for that question, I'm surprised you did not ask it sooner".

"I...I wanted to make sure...you were real".

"This is not a dream, my child, I assure you of it.

"I'm glad".

"I did not abandon you, Pyrrha. Tira has lied to you, all these years. She stole you from me when you were just a babe, and used you against me to force me to do as she bid. We clashed, eventually, fifteen years ago...she walked away with her life".

"She - she killed you?"

"Yes, I have never been shamed in such a manner. It was a fight I should not have lost. I had everything to lose, there was no greater motivation than the life of my daughter...forgive me, Pyrrha".

"It's...It's okay, mother. I'm happy you here, now".

"Yes, it seems I still have work to do. As you see, I am alive, in this form".

"You are an angel, mother".

"I'm not sure, darling. Perhaps that is so...will you trust me, Pyrrha?"

"Mother, of course I will".

"You must not tell Tira of this, or reveal that you now know the truth. And you must do as she bids, no matter what".

"But mother...I hate killing. It tears my heart to steal a life! Mother, I can't - "

"You must do this, Pyrrha. I am so sorry to have to burden you like this, but you are part of something greater than even I can hope to imagine. Please...trust me".

"...Okay, mother. I will trust you".

"That's my girl. I love you, Pyrrha".

Pyrrha felt the warmth of her mother's love deep within her. She smiled contentedly as she closed her eyes, drifting away in her mother's embrace. Just as she stepped over the edge into the land of peace and sleep, she very faintly heard a woman's voice and laughter.

"It is done. The pieces...are in place".
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The Mother, The Sister, The Son