Taking a breath, I let out a wail.
My vision was blurry and my skin felt overly sensitive. Noises echoed around me, rumbling my perception and confusing my understanding of the situation. I felt tiny as something soft enveloped me, and suddenly my instincts told me that I was safe. Before I knew it, a soft voice was saying something in a language I couldn't understand. Soon after, a velvety thing was introduced into my mouth. Out of habit, I licked it with my tongue.
Some kind of tasty liquid came out.
I sucked, trying to bring more of that liquid out, tongue forming an "U" to direct it directly down my throat.
I kept doing this as my thoughts calmed down and let the smart part of my brain work out these circumstances for me. It did not take me long, with my overly active imagination, and the vast compendium of useless knowledge I had recollected in my life, to realize that I have been reborn, and that I was a babe sucking on my mother's tits.
The acknowledgment of my situation immediately calmed my wild heart. The warm milk helped as well.
You would think that being reborn would alarm any person. What about your loved ones? Your life before being reborn? Were all your efforts up until now for nothing? All your acquaintances, friends, lovers, family, all of them gone, are you okay with that?
My answer would be yes. I'm okay with that, since I don't even remember my own name, much less any person I knew before sucking this woman's nipple.
By the way, I got bored and started biting said nipples with my gums. It feels funny. Her skin has a pleasant salty taste, or maybe my baby tongue is overly sensitive at this stage of my development.
All these useless thoughts cross my mind as I focus my attention on her voice and the voice of everyone surrounding us.
As expected. In this new world, I don't understand a single thing of what they're saying.
It's a whole new language.
-
I take back everything I said about not understanding the language.
It's a bit different to the one I know, but not so much. It has certain verbs and different words. The conjugation is a bit funny, it made me chuckle at the beginning, yet it was easy to understand once you pay enough attention to what people are saying.
It's such a sad thing that I don't even know what language is the one I once knew, but I have overcome the sadness of not remembering my past after turning three months. Now, at the mature age of six months old, that depression seemed like such a childish thing to feel. Yes yes.
"Oh, look at him, he's nodding! So smart!!"
I give the woman that is my mother in this life a smug smirk. Yes. She gets it. Holding my upturned lips, I raise my tiny hands and make grabby gestures with them.
"Oh, you're hungry? Come here then." She grabs me, undresses one of her boobs, and holds me so my mouth can easily suck her nipple.
It was easy to communicate with gestures as a baby, especially when there were not many things to communicate. Grabby hands are for when I'm hungry, and my thump between my index finger and middle finger is for when I want to use the bathroom. Only those two things are vital. My mom, who's name is Isabella by the way, started to understand my gestures after a few rounds of seeing me doing them while sucking milk or pooping my diapers. Since then, she considers me a genius.
Adults are so easy to impress. Children not so much.
My older sister, Marian, heard my mom explain my ways of communication and said, "If he's so smart, why doesn't he just talk?"
I held my small trembling fist at her after she said that. I can feel your envy, sis. That's not healthy!! Be impressed by your baby brother! Celebrate me!!!
Of course I had to give up that fight when you poked my belly and I giggled as she tickled me.
"Oh, it's stiff again."
Uhmm, yes. That's another thing that 's odd. As far as I know, babies don't release the hormones necessary to get excited and/or aroused, yet, here I'm, with my tiny little brother having an erection.
Forgive this child, mother. At barely a few months old, my mast shows itself proud and tall. But sucking nipples and fondling breasts seems to overstimulate me. It's not that I do it on purpose. I need the milk to survive, and this is the only way of getting it. I'm not a pervert, I swear.
So please, please!
"So hard…"
Please stop poking my dick!!
-
I noticed that her nipples were brown. Not so dark, but a remarkable tint that contrasted with the tone of her skin. Her breasts were not big, around the size of an apple, and a little droopy. Her aureolas were as big as both my hands put together, and her nipples were pointy, almost looking up to the sky.
This is all to say that my mother has exceptional breasts. From the shape of the mounts, to the contour of the tip.
I poked them like they were buttons, and she let out a charming giggle. "Stooop, that tickles." As always, and for some reason, my little head down there was stiff as a rock.
One year has passed since I was born. I learned a little more about this world.
Warm water washed over me as my naked mother cleaned me. We were both naked, smashed together in a small wooden tub. She held me close to her as I drowned in the warmth of her skin. My vision was occupied by the tanned landscape that was her body. I could see a birth mark right under her left breast. I jab at it with my chubby digits.
"Hehe, I wonder why you like my chest so much." she let out.
Of course, any mother would find it weird that their baby would like to play with their boobs so much, still I had yet to hear that "It 's because I'm a boy, so obviously I would like boobs."
That's another thing. I have never seen my dad, but I had around three sisters.
Moira, the oldest, was seven years old.
Nadia, the second to be born, was six.
And finally, Marian, the closest to me in age, was four. She was an envious little gremlin, also.
I, the youngest, was named Kain.
I learned as well that: One, this seemed to be the medieval era. There was no electricity nor any comfort of the modern age, not to mention that the house was built of wood, our utensils were badly made, and the windows lacked glass. Two, this was a fantasy world, but there was no magic.
How did I find this out? Well…
"Okay! We're all clean!!" My mother said and took me out of the tub with her, she held me in one arm while she spread her other hand in the direction of the bathtub, and the water disappeared without any warning. "Now your clothes," as soon as she spoke, I was dressed in some clean baby clothes.
The first time she did that, I was beyond baffled.
Back then I had made a bunch of incongruent sounds to get an answer out of her, so she explained.
"Oh this? These are called skills. When you turn four, the goddess will wake the skill you were born with." She had explained while laying me in bed next to her, "Mine is called inventory, it allows me to store any object and release it wherever I want as long as it is within my field of vision."
I had thought back then, 'Mother, that's OP. What are you doing living in a wooden house?' Of course, I was and still am a baby, so all I could do was make some baby noise and shit my diapers to express my confusion.
I had determined that I would ask her about it when I grew up.
"Mama," I called out to her. She smiled at me and started walking outside of the "bathroom."
As for why I used quotation marks? It's because it's just a room. Our house was small. It had the "Bathroom," which we usually used to clean ourselves; a multipurpose room that was the kitchen, the hall, the room in which was the entrance of the house, and had a little table in which we ate; and finally, there was the bedroom. Yes, that word was singular. We all slept in the same room.
I was affronted by the reality that my mom had such a useful skill as "Inventory" but we still were dirt poor.
Such anger had to go somewhere, so I made grabby hands and my mom took one of her boobs out with a happy expression as she walked to the bedroom, ready to go to sleep.
As she lay down in a thick animal coat that functioned as our mattress, she covered herself from the waist down with a tinner coat while she held me close to her chest. I could hear my sisters breathing close to us, probably hugging each other as a way to get warm.
I kept sucking the sweet nectar that was my mother's milk and massaging her mounts as I thought that this life will be hard, but I would do what I could for this family. I may have not spent a lot of time with them, measly a year, yet as of now, they were all I have, and even if I didn't remember much of my previous life, I knew that I had a principle that was beyond important to me.
I had to protect that which was mine. And my mother and my sisters were mine.
"Oh, it's hard again~"
Goddamn it mom, stop poking my dick!