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Corruption of the Pure	By : Ecstatic-Evil Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 3891 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Soul series is published by Bandai Namco Entertainment and developed by Namco, and as such is their property. I neither profit nor intend to.

Chapter List
- 1-Corruption of the Pure
- 1
Ostrheinsburg Castle
Ivy felt a tongue trace her swollen labia as she sat on her throne. Reaching her talon-clad hand down, she stroked the head of the woman doing so. Tira moaned when her mistress’s hand ruffled her hair—like a dog having obeyed its master, she was being given a treat.
Nearly six months had passed, and all of Europe was in a state of chaos as Malfested started appearing everywhere upon Ivy’s will. Cities blazed, smoke filled the skies, and rivers of blood filled their streets. More people were becoming Malfested, and soon the Evil Seed would spread to corrupt both the Far East and the New World.
Throughout all this, souls were being absorbed by Ivy and increasing her power. Her plans were twofold: to lure Soul Calibur and its current wielder here so that she could kill him and claim the final shards of her that had been purified to create the holy sword, and then lure her father here so that she could take what remained of his power.
“He comes…” Ivy said as Tira’s tongued dipped into her pussy. “My father comes to reclaim me, but I shall reclaim him instead…”
Ivy shuddered as she felt herself release, Tira’s lips surrounding the lips of her pussy, tongue pressing lightly against her clit. Tira gasped as Ivy’s fluids entered her mouth, flooding her senses with sweet, hot nectar. Her fluids were ambrosia for Tira—the drink of the gods.
“I must prepare, my servant,” Ivy said. “Leave me…”
After Ivy dressed in her white dominatrix outfit, she stood in the main foyer when Cervantes de Leon walked in, wielding a mere facsimile of the true Soul Edge.
“So, you’ve come, father,” Ivy said, True Soul Edge at the ready.
“I’ve come to return you to me, daughter,” Cervantes said. “I will take back the blade that belongs to me.”
“My dearest father, I don’t possess Soul Edge,” Ivy chuckled, before her evil aura exploded outwards, engulfing her. “I, your daughter, am Soul Edge! And the time has come for me to reclaim my power from you. But first, entertain me: defeat my right hand…if you can.”
Out of nowhere, a demon that resembled Night Terror crashed onto the floor in front of Cervantes—Vännen, now known as Belial—stood stalwart between Cervantes and Ivy. He wielded two identical blades that each resembled a complete Soul Edge, each with a mere fraction of the power.
“Meet my champion and lover: Belial,” Ivy said.
Belial roared, bringing his impressive wingspan to bear, and sending a shockwave that Cervantes barely managed to avoid being staggered by. Belial’s lipless mouth salivated, wishing to be let loose against his mistress’s enemies.
“Yes, my love,” Ivy said. “Cut his legs off, tear the eyes from his head, and crush his bones between your mighty talons. But do not kill him—I have need of him.”
“Very well,” Cervantes started. “I shall make him a part of my power first.”
No sooner had Cervantes finished speaking when Belial flew at him with the power behind his massive wings. Cervantes got his guard up just in time, barely avoiding being bisected by the demon. Defending against the relentless assault, Cervantes was given no opening to counter against Belial. That is until he managed to backpedal and shoot at the demon with his pistol sword, but to no avail: the shot bounced harmlessly off of the carapace.
That left Cervantes wide open, as Belial dropped one of the Soul Edge replicas and shot his mighty talon straight out, gripping Cervantes’ forearm. The talon was “fanged” for lack of a better term, and it broke both skin and bone as it tightened like a vise. In a vain attempt to break free, Cervantes desperately stabbed at Belial with his pistol sword, only for that too to harmlessly plink off of the shell.
Belial’s fangs tore the fingers that held that blade clean off, following with a stab to the eye with his horn. Cervantes’ forearm snapped as the bones completely broke, and then something unanticipated happened…
Belial dropped the second Soul Edge replica and grabbed Cervantes’ leg, charging him against the wall. Belial’s tail showed a remarkable amount of flexibility, looping around between himself and Cervantes. That’s when the stab to his loins occurred—repeated stabs by a serrated edge, tearing him up. When his loins were completely mangled, Cervantes felt the tail go right up his ass. Belial tore him up from within as the tail pushed in, only to retract abruptly and repeatedly—it was accurate to say Cervantes was being sawn up.
His other arm and both legs had been crushed to dust…
“That is enough, my love,” Ivy said, appearing right behind Belial. Without a single second’s hesitation, the demon followed its mistress’ command and stepped back, leaving Cervantes broken on the ground in a large puddle of his own blood.
“You sired me, father, so that I might become Soul Edge itself,” Ivy said. “It never desired you to wield it—you were merely the courier. And now, I shall reclaim my power from you—prepare yourself for eternal torment within my soul, father…”
Despite Cervantes’ heavy weight, Ivy picked him up by the face with her talons with minimal effort. As Cervantes struggled in vain to shake free, Ivy felt his power and presence flow into her with exquisite slowness. She felt her pussy pulsate and shed as their minds mingled—he felt himself within his own daughter. It was incest—and not only did Ivy not care, but she also took great pleasure in it. His blood flowed to Ivy, scaling her legs, being absorbed into her.
Cervantes’ world slid out of focus, only for him to find himself joining the cacophony of millions of souls in a void screaming to the eternal union between Ivy and Inferno, long wrapped in a cocoon of flesh.
They climaxed when all souls screamed in perfect unison…
Back in reality, Cervantes struggled no more. With nary a care, Ivy dropped his bare husk and reveled in the power she gained, reveled in the wet crimson that dyed her clothes, desiring to shed human skin.
“I’m nearly complete, my love,” Ivy said.
Meanwhile, In Athens
Fire licked at the corpses around her, crumbled pillars littered the streets and the smell of death filled her nostrils, but Pyrrha was neither afraid nor ashamed of the slaughter she committed. In this city, her mother was laid to rest—her aunt also lived here.
“You abandoned me,” Pyrrha said. “When you died, you left me alone to face a cruel world. But all that’s different now—she is my mother, now. I can hear her whispering to me in my mind, comforting me, raising me…she’s always there for me. And that’s more than you ever were.”
The burning city…the Evil Seed creating new servants…the corpse reaching their hands out in a vain attempt for help…it was all one giant temper tantrum for Pyrrha. It felt good to vent all her emotions on others, to show others the pain she felt and then deal it to them a million fold.
It felt like release…
A part of her wanted to reanimate Sophitia, so that she would watch in despair knowing that Pyrrha rejected her. But to reanimate a body was one thing; to restore a soul was something else entirely. Sophitia’s soul had been free of her body for years, unconsumed by Soul Edge—reanimating the body without the soul would accomplish nothing.
Unless…the fragment of Soul Edge that was embedded in Sophitia’s body—its presence meant that Pyrrha was born with Soul Edge’s influence. Maybe a part of Soul Edge’s power rubbed off on Sophitia’s soul, despite it not being consumed. If only Pyrrha could follow that tie and pull Sophitia’s soul back.
Eying the bodies of the women at her feet, Pyrrha stood with her arms outstretched—unseen forces tore at the women, stripping flesh and muscle messily off their bones. Sophitia’s body had largely rotted away, but the flesh of the innocent maidens at Pyrrha’s feet was used like clay to reconstruct Sophitia’s form. Flesh and muscle fit together seamlessly, reforming Sophitia’s flawless body.
She looked up in the fiery sky, eyes soulless—her body was alive, but there was no mind to occupy it. But then, Pyrrha found the tie she was looking for, and painfully pulled Sophitia’s soul back from the afterlife—instilling it back into her body.
The first thing Sophitia felt was stone against her completely nude body. The smell of death and rot filled her nostrils, and she pulled herself into a sitting position only to be met by a sight she wished she never saw: her daughter in front of her, appearing as though she was Soul Edge’s vessel.
Pyrrha’s demonic hand tightened into a fist as she looked down on her False Mother with contempt. “So, you live once more…” Pyrrha’s voice trailed, echoing the power and comfort the True Mother gave her.
“No…” Sophitia whispered.
“Yes,” Pyrrha said, looking pensively at her demonic arm. “Look at me. Drink it in…there was a time when the idea of becoming this frightened me. I feared becoming a monster—but no more…”
“Pyrrha, please…you must fight Soul Edge’s influence,” Sophitia implored as she stood to her feet. “You can do it; you’re my daughter, after all.”
“You mean the daughter you abandoned?” Pyrrha asked.
“Wha-?”
“You abandoned me when you died. I grieved, but the world did not see fit to allow me rest,” Pyrrha ranted. “I grew up being used by others; I was made a slave, beaten, passed around from man to man, forced to do degrading things until I was no longer interesting, freed by a man who became my lover. And then he died, and I was left with the blame. The headsman’s axe was awaiting me…all because you left me alone.”
“Pyrrha, I’m sorry. I had hoped you would understand that I didn’t wish to leave you by choice,” Sophitia said.
“I do understand,” Pyrrha said. “But that changes nothing—and yet, your death was probably for the best. Now, I’m no longer alone—she will never abandon me…”
“Who is ‘she’?”
“My True Mother,” Pyrrha answered. “In my veins runs her blood, intermingled with your own. Even now, I can hear her whisper into my mind, telling me that everything will be alright. I can feel her arms wrapping around my body, there to steady me.”
“Soul Edge…”
“You’ll come with me; I will make you come with me,” Pyrrha said darkly, the faintest hint of a sinister laugh under her breath. “I’ll bring you before my True Mother, and you will be eternally imprisoned within that frail body of yours, knowing that I’ve rejected you…False Mother.”
Back at Ostrheinsburg Castle
From each strand of her hair to the very tips of her toes, Ivy was covered in cum from the last four hours of sex with Belial. Blood from her pussy stained the once-white sheets—Belial’s tail would thrust into her, cutting her, mingling her blood with the cum she shed, only to change into human form and set himself on her.
The sheets were singed from Belial’s repeated transformations, and the mattress soon followed. For what must have been the thousandth time today, he entered Ivy. She felt the heat of his thighs against her ass as he seated his cock deep within her.
“Yes, give me more,” Ivy said.
“More…” Belial growled.
As the months passed, Belial had been Ivy’s right hand, causing havoc and rarely leaving demon form—and it took its toll on him. He couldn’t talk the way did back when they first—he barely spoke in more than one-word sentences. The mental link conjoining him to Ivy alleviated that.
He desired more, too. And he was eager to give her as much as she desired—he existed solely for Ivy. He would die at her command, and if she desired him to be absorbed into her body, he would allow it without hesitation.
He thrusted, retreated, and thrust harder, the semen that adorned Ivy’s body connecting them both. Gasping, Ivy shed her fluids onto his cock—Belial abruptly pulled out and set his hard cock snugly between her bare buttocks, and then she felt the fire from his loins decorate her bare back.
As he reentered her, Belial wrapped his arms tight around Ivy and brought her back against his abs. The cum Ivy felt on her back was hot, like fire, but nowhere near as hot as Belial’s flesh. They rubbed together as Belial continued his exquisite thrusting into her pussy, pulling away with each retreat, his white ropes continuing to connect them.
Abruptly, he turned Ivy over, placed his cock against her mons, and adorned her belly next. Rubbing his cum on her hands, Ivy ran them through her hair. She did so again when she felt his cock wedged snugly between her breasts, fire adorning her face. And then, her lips were met by Belial’s own—if his cum was fire, then his lips were magma.
Wave after wave of scorching, untamable lava was sent head to toe through her. Her heart pounded like a primitive drum with each swelling, only to slow in fulfilment with the recession of each wave. Pleasure coursing through her mind, Ivy allowed her eyes to drift slowly shut as Belial continued his thrusting.
Ivy woke to the sensation of her lover’s tongue trailing across the skin of her back. She was coated in pheromones—both saliva and cum. Starting between her buttocks,

Belial’s tongue slid exquisitely along her spine, only to tease at the wisps of her hair on the back of her hair and ending just behind her ear.
“Good?” he asked in her ear, his voice a tender whisper.
Ivy moved his hands to palm her breasts, and he squeezed. “Yes; very nice.”
“More?” Belial asked. Ivy knew that he wanted more—she felt a new rush of blood flush through his cock. Already aching and hard, his cock became even harder, stretched even longer.
“Yes; give me more,” Ivy responded.
Several Days Later
Ivy showed up, naked and covered in semen, into the castle’s foyer. Pyrrha was there, with Sophitia’s naked, reanimated body next to her. Ivy appraised Sophitia with curiosity as Sophitia herself watched Ivy in disbelief—and that disbelief evolved into horror.
“Isabella Valentine…Inferno…there is no difference between you two anymore,” Sophitia concluded. “You are Soul Edge!”
“Right you are, my dear,” Ivy said, her fingers trailing along Sophitia’s flawless form, ultimately coming to rest on her breasts.
“What a beautiful body you have—like a newborn baby,” Ivy cooed. “But not for much longer. You and I will have a lot of fun—I’ll even bring along my daughter to join in on the fun.”
“Yes,” Pyrrha chuckled darkly. “I’d like that, Mother.”
“Pyrrha…no…” Sophitia trailed.
“She was born touched by me. You may have birthed her, but you failed to raise her, so my servant took it upon herself to do so. That brought Pyrrha to me,” Ivy said. “She is no longer your daughter—as a matter of fact she was never your daughter. She is my daughter—but, you have my thanks for carrying her for me.”
Holding Sophitia’s naked body close to her own, Ivy’s fingers traced along her bare back, ultimately coming to rest just to the left of base of the spine. “Even in death, my shard refused to dislodge from your body. But that is about to change…”
“Mother, let us go decorate her flawless form,” Pyrrha said with a smirk, her voice echoing anticipation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So, when you want a woman to really squeal, you just dig your blade right here,” Ivy instructed, guiding Pyrrha’s hand to Sophitia’s clit. “It works better than simply sticking your blade into them…”
“You mean, like this?” Pyrrha asked. The tip of her knife settled just next to the clit. She angled it to dig under the clit, and then pushed the blade in.
Sophitia’s nerves fired off in intense pain, her own cacophonic voice being the only form of relieving her of such pain. How long had passed? Minutes? Hours? Days? She lost track of all time, the suffering she endured at the hands of her own daughter keeping her mind purely on her own physical condition.
“How inventive of you, daughter,” Ivy said as she knelt next to Pyrrha and placed a comforting talon on her shoulder.
“This feels so exquisite, Mother,” Pyrrha said. “I never would have imagined that holding this kind of power over another would feel so…pleasurable. This was what the men who passed me around must have felt: they dominated me. But now, I’m the one who dominates. Now that I’ve tasted this feeling, I wish to dominate more…and more…and more…”
Pyrrha dug the tip of her blade just at the edge of Sophitia’s labia, and drew it slowly and exhilaratingly toward Sophitia’s rump and ending at the hip, severing all muscle along the way.
“You take after me, it seems,” Ivy chuckled darkly.
Then the knife dug in directly next to the spine, near where the fragment of Soul Edge was lodged. Sophitia gasped as the steel sank itself deep into her back, flesh and muscle being rent and whittled away. Like wood, she was being carved into something different…
“Mmmmm…” Pyrrha moaned as she put on the finishing touches. Sophitia’s lumbar vertebrae sat exposed to the world, and yet she remained alive. Pyrrha plucked the shard of Soul Edge out and presented it to her Mother.
“Hmm…I do so love your taste, daughter,” Ivy said, before breaking into a real noblewoman’s laugh. Pyrrha shared her sentiments with a girlish giggle, albeit distorted through the power endowed to her.
Turning Sophitia on her back, Ivy forced her to stand.
“Come now, dear,” Ivy said. “You should be proud of her—I know I am. In fact, I’d like to keep you alive—we want you to be alive.”
“So you can torture me more?” Sophitia asked.
“Yes…and no,” Ivy answered before jerking Sophitia into a passionate kiss. Her world went dark with endless possibilities—for that time, she forgot the pain she felt. She saw Pyrrha and Ivy, free of Soul Edge’s influence, saw their surroundings awash in golden light—everything that transpired seemed like a far off memory.
Or rather, she saw a strange form of beauty in the perversions of the body Soul Edge inflicted on those it touched...
“I know you’re feeling pain. You feel completely empty after losing what you held dear,” Ivy said. “But if you pledge yourself to me, I shall help you fill the void within your soul. You don’t have to hide your pain…or your desires.”
Chitin scraped across her exposed spine, the tips of Ivy’s talons working their way in between each segment. But Sophitia felt her pain dampen, not intensifying—that’s when she simply stopped fighting.
Tugging Ivy close to her, Sophitia initiated the deep kiss this time, tongue and all. A pleasure far greater than anything she’d ever know rushed through her when her naked body touched Ivy’s. Something entered her mouth—some type of fluid, acidic and viscous, like a perversion of a woman’s fluids. Sophitia couldn’t help but swallow and accept it into her body.
She grew weary of wallowing in despair, and was willing to trade her soul to relieve herself of it. She was resigned to this fate—perhaps whenever Ivy saw fit to absorb Pyrrha, mother and daughter would reunite once again.
The lips parted from each other with a string of cum connecting the two. Sophitia sighed in pleasure, but instead of absorption, corruption took place.
Or, perhaps, she was trading one form of purity for another…
- 1
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Corruption of the Pure