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The lights being turned on immediately hurt Homa’s eyes, wincing and letting out a groan as she attempted to lift an arm to hide her face. The light didn’t lessen at all, and an overwhelming wave of soreness immediately ran through Homa’s body. Memories of death- of brutality- of horrifically being carved to pieces- all made her reflexively scream out. Only for an incomprehensible sensation to fill her, the light in the room momentarily dimmed as she felt an overwhelming weight fill the room.
Her eyes lifted.
To face- the one who’d killed her.
Vesna Nasser. Her name like a wound cutting deep.
Homa instinctively tried to push herself away but again was stymied, writhing helpless in the bed she’d awoke in, finally understanding why her body had felt so unresponsive.
Only one leg kicking uselessly to try to move, only one arm responding to her attempts to push along the bed, to flee this invading force of her nightmare.
Her right arm and left leg were gone.
Carved away.
The memory of them being mangled, of Vesna’s victory utterly overwhelming her attempt at resistance- she’d died, then, hadn’t she? In the Diver stolen from a dead woman?
Then what was this? Hell?
“Good morning, Homa.”
She spoke, with a voice too soft, too gentle, too lacking in malice for Homa to understand. There had been nothing but hate and strength and satisfaction at so utterly defeating Homa. Why? What emotion was in her eyes, on her face? Homa couldn’t even comprehend it.
“Please-” Her voice cracked, sounding awful (even by Homa’s self-deprecating standards). But Vesna didn’t appear to be in any rush. Waiting patiently for Homa to try again.
“Please…don’t hurt me.” She managed, already on the verge of tears. And Vesna simply smiled, lifting a hand- Homa instinctively flinching away- and patting at Homa’s matted hair, fingertips gently brushing the base of a cat-like ear.
“I won’t. I can already tell you’ve learned your place.” Vesna had that small smile on her face that was unreadable to Homa. But she was right. Even the thought of trying to shove her hand away made Homa’s entire body shiver as if the room were freezing cold.
She couldn’t do anything at all.
The gulf between them…
Heaven and earth.
“You’ve been out for some time after the emergency surgery. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up. It’s a good thing I was here, or you may have hurt yourself.” Her voice was tender and conciliatory, as if her presence at Homa’s bedside would void her deeds.
“W-where…?”
“You’re still in Kreuzung. We picked out an emptied residence in A-block for your recovery. I hope it’s to your liking.”
It was a palace, by Homa’s standards- the bed alone large enough for three of her to fit with room to spare. But none of this comforted her or brought any explanation forth. But she had no idea how to ask her captor- what was all of this for? Was she to be tortured? Interrogated? Again, she started to shake, with no way of stopping herself, arm wrapped around herself as Vesna simply sat, gentle smile on her face.
It was a smile that Homa was beginning to understand- a victorious ease. She wasn’t gloating, but there was some small joy she was getting in having Homa understand how utter her defeat. As Homa began to understand this connection she felt she saw some mirage of color surrounding Vesna- bright, intense, full of unreadable feelings. It lasted only a moment before Vesna spoke again, chasing all stray thoughts from Homa’s mind.
“I must be going; I have another engagement this evening. I don’t expect we’ll see each other again anytime soon, Homa.”
This for a moment filled Homa with both a great relief and a great fear. Freedom from Vesna’s presence also meant her future and self felt utterly precarious. She would have to crawl to do anything, to even get out of this house- and without any of her ID’s, she’d immediately get arrested. Vesna seemed to understand this train of thought, chuckling as she stood.
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you alone. You ought to be happy with your caretaker for the foreseeable future.”
This only left Homa feeling more ill at ease. Her eyes never left Vesna’s back as she walked out of the room. Closing the door behind her.
Homa was still for a few moments, the sound of footsteps fading into the distance making her feel her solitude all the heavier.
And the door reopened-
Homa flinching instinctively-
Before realizing she recognized the woman at the door-
Someone whose lips she could still faintly taste upon her own.
Imani wasted no time- boots clicking across the floor as she swept Homa up into her arms, squeezing her so tightly that Homa felt sure she would pop. Memories of their last encounter- of their confused kiss- of Homa’s sobbing parting- and of Imani, unconscious on the floor after she’d injected her with the knockout drug. It made her entire body quake in Imani’s arms, tearful and incapable, choked sobs muffled by Imani’s shoulder.
“I-Imani, I…”
“Shhh, shhh… It’s okay, Homa.”
This only made Homa cry harder, unable to understand this sequence of events. But slowly, weakly, she held Imani back, shaking subsiding slowly as her heartbeat eased. The entire time, Imani continued to coo and rub her back, Homa unable to see the solemn grimace on Imani’s face.
“It’s okay, Ho~ma~. You won’t get hurt like this again. I’ll keep you safe.”
Homa’s shaking had started again. It seemed to never completely stop, these days. She didn’t even know how many days it had been. Confined to her room, with extremely limited privileges to request information from the wall computers, she was beginning to feel a bit stir-crazy. Imani stayed with her for most of the day and distracted her with some idle talk, but still had to leave to work- With Vesna. This made Homa begin shuddering even more, slumped against the wall, curled up into a ball as best she could.
There hadn’t been any mention of prosthetics- or even a wheelchair or crutch (though her medications continued to come). So, she was only able to pathetically scramble across the floor. Imani always disliked it when she did that, because it dirtied the nice dresses and outfits she helped dress Homa in, but staying in the too-soft bed all day made Homa feel even more worthless. And so, whenever Imani left, Homa carefully and unsteadily made her way to a corner of the room, curled up, and shook. Sometimes she’d fade in and out of consciousness, and then Imani would have her in her arms, taking her back to bed. But most times she just sat there. Shaking. And waiting.
Imani hadn’t been able to bring her necklace to her either. The comfort of those whispering voices, or even just…a keepsake, was taken from her. Just like the arm and leg. Homa had seen those flickering lights once or twice in Imani- a mix of warm and inviting colors mixed with darker, more harrowing sensations. It hadn’t happened recently though, and Imani was often rather vague about her long-term plans for Homa. She was worried about Leija- about Kreuzung in its entirety.
But she couldn’t do anything. Even with her limbs, she hadn’t been able to do anything. And now Homa was- nothing. Less than nothing. The shaking intensified. The memories of killing and blood and violence loudly echoing through her mind. She must have sat like that for hours before the click of the door unlocking, Imani coming in with an armful of groceries.
“Ah- Ho~ma~!” She seemed unsurprised to see Homa in the corner again, setting the bag down to squat down to her height. “Do you want to eat? You could tell me how to make lonac for the two of us!”
Homa looked up, shivering gently still as she stumbled over her question.
“I-imani what… what are you doing?”
“Hm?” Imani tilted her head curiously.
“With me. I-I’m not… there’s…” Her throat was closing up, tears brimming in her eyes as Imani stared at her before letting out a quiet little sigh.
“Homa… I said I wouldn’t let you get hurt again. I’m keeping you safe.”
“For how long? I-I don’t- what about Leija? A-and work?”
Imani smiled softly, hands reaching out to clasp her cheeks in her hands.
“Homa- I’m keeping you safe and sound. You don’t worry about anything like that, okay? I’ll take care of you. Ho~ma~”
“I-” Homa couldn’t even respond to this. Imani sounded so serious, so sincere, and it would be so easy to just… stop. To stop worrying and fearing and just accept this existence. For a moment a bolt of fear of her fate made her shiver, but Homa realized something. Even if Imani got sick of her or abandoned her eventually- she was already dead. This was just a purgatory after the end she’d faced.
For a moment she saw that swirl of colors behind Imani once more- but as tears dripped down her cheeks, Homa could see them blur, fading in a way unlike ever before. Slowly, unsteadily, bracing herself with her hand, Homa leaned into Imani for a kiss, colors gradually disappearing and leaving the room empty for Imani and Homa to share a long, slow kiss.
Her hair was longer, now- down to the small of her back. She’d offhandedly mentioned wanting it cut to Imani, but Imani had just smiled and run a hand through it. Apparently, she liked Homa’s hair like this. So Homa’s hair continued to grow.
It had changed a bit too- white streaks interspersed with her usual dull blue. Maybe because of what had happened before Imani saved her. Homa had been through something… something horrific. Those memories were beginning to blur- she remembered Vesna and losing her limbs. But why? Why was it getting so hard to recall how she’d gotten into that situation? She’d tried asking Imani a few times, but she’d just scritched her ears and told her not to worry. It was so hard to worry about it, with Imani taking care of her. She shouldn’t have worried.
Those colors she’d seen must have been something she’d worried about too- she hadn’t seen them since that first kiss she’d shared in this room. Everything had been so peaceful since then. She hoped Imani would be home soon. The lonac that Homa was getting better at prepping with a single hand would be perfect soon.
Imani had been a poor cook, which led to Homa slowly taking over more of the cooking and preparation, with Imani coming home from work with groceries frequently in her bag. It was almost like she was a housewife for her- aside from being unable to leave this room, and barely being able to move around it under her own power. Her now-familiar awkward scooting (carefully avoiding squishing her short tail beneath her) across the floor brought her to the heating pot of lonac on the burner, but Homa felt content as she lifted the lid to check.
Steam and delicious scents wiped away the heavy thoughts that had been swirling around Homa’s head, a peaceful sigh leaving her lips as she set the lid down, trying to ignore that her hand was shaking the entire time.
She was happy, right? She had to be. She absolutely was. Imani cared for her closely. Imani wasn’t letting her leave this room- because Homa had gotten hurt before. Imani was protecting her, keeping her safe from Vesna, from the Volkisch, from Homa. Imani was-
Homa heard the door crack open as her body shivered, curled into a ball upon the floor. Imani’s hand was running through her hair, soft voice whispering as she was slowly helped up, and then helped to bed. Imani was so kind to her.
Imani- She was holding Homa in her arms.
was- She was slipping that nice dress off her shoulders.
so- She was kissing gently down Homa’s stomach.
kind- She was taking Homa’s cock lovingly between soft lips.
Homa didn’t stop shaking.
“I love you, Ho~ma~.”
Homa looked up, eyes bleary and unfocused. Today was particularly bad. She was so lucky Imani didn’t hate her. She was so lucky Imani loved her. But still the rotted words and thoughts poured out.
“V-Vesna did this to me. She killed me.”
“You’re alive, Homa. I’m holding your hand.”
“She killed me and you’re working for her- s-still.” This accusation had been festering in Homa’s mind, spiraling in and out. And today Imani had come back home in that uniform, and it had started the flashbacks.
“Homa… I’ve explained this to you before.” Oh, good. There was an explanation. A reason. Imani had to have a good reason. Why didn’t Homa remember Imani’s reason? Had she explained it at the movie theater?
Her hands clasped Homa’s cheeks again, looking so gently into her eyes.
“You were fading in and out of consciousness after being injured- it was Vesna who rescued you, while those mercenaries harmed you. She told me. She brought me to you. Remember?”
Homa’s head hurt, remembering the harm, the burning and cutting and carving digging into flesh and tearing her apart. Was it really Vesna? She was so-
Heaven and earth.
Shuddering in Imani’s grasp, sobbing unsteadily.
Vesna must have been Heaven- rescuing her. And Homa was underfoot and Shimii and Imbrian and dirty and mixed and worthless. Earth.
Homa’s shaking only intensified as she realized the truth of it, nodding weakly, trying to express that she understood as Imani held her close and tight. She couldn’t get the words out, screaming as she cried.
Imani had stopped locking the door when she left. Homa rarely strayed from her bed anymore. The threat of the world beyond the walls was too immense for her to take, and the thought of even risking being near the door frightened her. She’d often told Imani this, together in bed, and how brave she was to go out into the world. And Imani would smile, and kiss her, and tell her she did it so that Homa didn’t have to. And Homa would usually cry, because Imani loved her, and she was so happy.
Homa’s days tended to begin in Imani’s arms- she’d wake up before her and would shake her awake. Imani would get up, carry Homa to the connected shower for the morning, and would help clean her off. On weekends they would spend an extended time there, and eventually Homa would be helped to dress in something pretty and expensive that Imani found cute. Then, when Imani needed to go to work, Homa would sit in bed. And wait.
She’d stopped cooking, the taste of lonac bringing up bad memories that Homa was unable to shake. The small fridge in the room instead filled with ready-made meals, and Imani often brought take-out home to her awaiting lover. Instead, Homa merely curled in bed, arm wrapped around her chest… and waited. Phantom sensations from her lost arm and leg burned, and she thrashed about, but soon calmed enough to straighten the covers and adjust the pillows before Imani returned.
Time passed with Homa barely perceiving it- looking at a clock pulled up on a wall computer wouldn’t help it pass any faster, and so she tended to lay about, thinking of what she would ask Imani about, and how to repay her for being so kind. On this day, inspiration struck, and with some effort, Homa managed to maneuver to the closet by dragging herself across the floor, leg weakly kicking and arm adjusting her direction, giving the rooms exit a wide berth.
It wasn’t too difficult to open the closet or tug open one of the many boxes of clothes Imani had bought and presented her with- although this had been one Homa had utterly rejected at the time. Now, with thoughts full of ‘rewarding’ Imani for working so hard lately or being so kind to her- this felt like an adequate thing she would be capable of pulling off.
Scrabbling her fingers into the seam of the box to open it, Homa managed to get a view of the thin, extremely revealing set of bright red lingerie that still felt intimidating to Homa. But she’d steeled herself to get this far- getting the package back to her bed and pulling herself up took more effort but committed her further to this ‘quest’ she’d gone on.
First undressing, which was easy thanks to the slip-on pajama gown Imani had picked out for her, a few pink ribbons decorating it that allowed Homa to hook her fingers through and tug away, leaving her in the nude.
Then came the first hurdle- the garter came with two stockings. Even the thought of one emptied stocking splayed across the bed alongside the filled one made her want to vomit. So, hand shaking, she did her best to slip the plastic material connecting them free, forced to leave the strap hanging from the lacy panties but… it was as best as she could manage.
Getting into the stocking wasn’t too difficult but tugging it up required her to give several small pulls to the fabric to make sure it was rising up her thigh evenly. The panties were bulging a bit from her cock- but that wasn’t really anything Homa could do something about.
The matching lace bra would come next- a type of clothing Homa would tend to forgo these days, due to the difficulty in clicking the strap together with a single hand. Besides, her breasts weren’t much to write home about. Even with the increased prescription Imani had gotten her up to, her body remained (by her standards) rather… unimpressive.
With a determined huff, Homa decided to clip the bra first, then lifting the soft plastic material over her head, wriggling and barely managing to slip it over her bust, tugging to pull it into place, cupping her modest chest in a way that she hoped was appealing. After fixing a twisted strap, she looked down at herself, biting her lip- this idea felt far sillier than it had been when she started, confidence fading.
Homa sighed to herself, running a hand through her gray-streaked-blue hair. This was stupid- she was stupid- this wasn’t anything to make up for everything she put Imani through. A shake began to work its way through her body as she grit her teeth.
“I-i… what am I even doing? This is stupid. This is so stupid.” Homa’s hand gripped the sheets beneath her, breathing fast and unsteadily. Her attempt to tug off the panties was interrupted by the sound of the door clicking open, provoking Homa to fearfully pull herself up, relaxing slightly upon seeing Imani in the doorway.
“Homa…?”
Imani’s voice was tinged with surprise, but the sight must have been distracting her from anything else- the way her eyes were roaming Homa’s body made her want to cover herself out of shyness. But busy sniffling and wiping tears from her eyes, she attempted to put on a brave face.
“Ho~ma~” Imani’s voice regains its composed lilt, bag dropped and forgotten on the floor as she pulls herself onto the bed, atop Homa’s splayed form. A hand presses into Homa’s exposed hip, a clear desire visible in her eyes.
“Ah- Imani, I-” Explanations died in her throat unsaid as Imani pressed her lips to Homa’s, hungrily pressing herself down atop her.
Homa felt Imani’s tongue push into her mouth, soft groans muffled by the eagerness of her partner. The taste and sensation of Imani upon her was overwhelming and making her entire body feel more present than it had been in- weeks? months? All of it felt so tender and full of desire that it was blanking out the rest of Homa’s thoughts.
Imani’s kisses left her breathless and gasping before her partner finally pulled away. Lust was still evident in her gaze, hands straying over Homa’s stomach and breasts while she sat atop her.
“Ho~ma~ You’re such a treat… all for me?”
“…Mm.” Homa gave a nod, eyes still stinging from the tears.
“My Homa… You’ve gotten me into such a mood… We can eat later!~”
Imani had practically pounced back down as she purred, groping Homa’s chest through the lace material and peppering kisses along her collarbone, other hand trailing down to instinctively cup what was left of her thigh. Homa’s body was reacting to the intensive, unending attention and touches, bobtail wagging into the covers beneath her. Her cock strained against the panties, the constant grinding warmth of Imani’s thighs not helping her hold out either.
“I-Imani… I’m can’t- I’ll-” Her gasping attempts at communicating were treated to a glance, Imani chuckling a bit and lifting herself from Homa, hand gently pressing to the bulging lingerie.
“Ho~ma~ Even if you cum, we’ll keep going, okay? You’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied!~”
Imani’s voice had a sing-song tone that made Homa shiver, turning into a full-blown shudder as Imani returned to her loving attentions to Homa’s body. The sensations that just moments ago had felt so present and full of warmth now felt as if they were something she was observing happen to someone else’s body- the impact of the kisses and touches and shifting of her lingerie away lacking any feeling at all.
She wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t a hero. She wasn’t even a poor and struggling mechanic anymore. She was just… Imani’s doll. To be posed and dressed up and play a part in whatever fantasies Imani would put upon her. Homa wasn’t going anywhere.
