Hekate's Call, Chapter 15

Of all Hekate's staff, the only person that Ilina was ever excited to see was Symeon Vigil. Morian barely counted as Hekate staff, and Velia was a very lovely freeloader. But she'd only ever had good encounters with Vigil.

Also she was hot.

Like insanely hot.

She didn't use to be. When she first met the woman she was shabby, dead eyed, and slow-witted. A body that only existed to pilot a machine, shaped like a soldier to meet some bare minimum requirement for being a human being. The strongest show of emotion it showed was when someone was getting too close to Crater. A dog. No, not even. Just a mutt.

But now? Stars above and gods below, Ilina would hang a poster of this woman on her wall.

"Hey," Vigil called to her in the hallway. She always called out to Ilina, but gave the other pilots a mere nod. "Got a question for you."

"Shoot." Ilina could spare a few minutes for Vigil any day, and Velia wouldn't even be mad.

"You know how to dance?"

Oh. Ilina could feel her cheeks burning in the shadow of Vigil. She did know how to dance, but she remembered her lessons. You never admitted to knowing how to dance, and when your partner tells you that you're a natural you look them in the eyes and tell them what a great teacher they are. That's how mama did it.

"I don't," she lied.

Vigil shifted, frowning. "Damn. Morian said I should learn because it would help with my coordination," she glanced down the hallway towards Ilina's room. "Velia would probably know, right? She seems like someone who would."

"I lied," Ilina just about shouted. Then, much quieter, "I know how to dance."

The dog had this grin. Not the one they had in the cockpit. Unshapely and fanged, vicious. The battle logs always made Vigil look like some kind of otherworldly monster, salivating at the thought of crushing a cockpit beneath the hammer. No, outside the battlefield it was so different. Ear to ear with adorable little dimples. She looked downright goofy.

"Now why would you do that?" The dog pondered while gentle guiding Ilina against the wall, towering over her.

Her knees felt so weak, but that grin was so infectious.

"I thought it was a come-on," Ilina stammered.

"Well, you can teach me, right?"

Suddenly the joy fell out from under her. No, she couldn't. Not yet anyways. "After I find some excuse to ask Velia to dance, I can."

Vigil took a step back, giving her some precious space to compose herself. "Yeah, your girl gets first dibs. That makes sense," she laughed. "Hey, how have things been going with you two? Did you get her any gifts on leave?"

A rifle, a sidearm, a knife, and a really nice pair of boots! Among a bunch of other little touches for their room. Ritual components, though she didn't say that. And some things she didn't want a record of having printed.

"Getting the same pistol she used to have was really easy," Ilina hummed, "but I had to compromise on the rifle and the knife. The rebels all used these really ancient rifles that you apparently just can't get anymore. They were dead easy to maintain and great to use. I have to figure out how to properly strip and maintenance the new one."

"Oh, are those the new boots she's been wearing?" Vigil was really good at picking up changes like that. "I haven't seen her without them, or the side arm or knife for that matter. You did good!"

Ilina giggled to herself, as Vigil ruffled her hair suddenly. "Yeah."

The mood died as Vigil traced Ilina's eyes for the third or fourth time towards the door to her room. "I should let you go, but," she hesitated, "are you okay with how she's been hanging off Krystyn?"

It was... okay. Yeah. It was fine. It was what Ilina expected, actually. A good thing. The way she treated Krystyn was a good sign. Ilina's relationship was safe because of it.

She smiled up at Symeon, suddenly serene. "Velia won't leave me. So, she can do whatever she wants. It's fine. Morian said she needed to make other friends too. So, it's okay. I'm not worried about it."

Ilina skulked into the room as quietly as she could manage. The door made that sound when it opened and closed so she wasn't that effective. But she made for her toolbag with the brushes she'd had someone smuggle aboard while they were finally making preparations to cast off. She wanted her bootblack kit to be perfect, so just printing some brushes wasn't going to cut it, even if it could reproduce natural fibers.

"What are you sneaking around now for?" Velia asked without looking up from her study materials.

A lot of it was electronic warfare stuff. Machine license material. Piloting guides. There was a copy of one of the books Ilina's mom made her read and memorize as a child among the pile, it was about mechanized infantry fundamentals. Velia had been cramming the material nonstop with incredible dedication. Was she trying to be a pilot or better learn how to motivate one?

"Smuggling contraband."

"Food?"

"Paintbrushes."

"For boots?"

"For boots," Ilina couldn't help but grin to herself as she packed them away.

Velia eyed Ilina with suspicion. She thought she had everything about Ilina figured out, of course, but there were a number of things that she just never seemed to piece together. It was cute watching those bubble up every now and then.

"Here I was thinking you'd only cleaned everyone's boots like that because we were forcing you."

Something bristled at Ilina's neck. A feeling. An impulse. It hasn't even been that long since Velia got those boots. They don't need care yet. Ilina caught a string of drool that slipped from her open, panting mouth before it dropped into her bag. It was the ritual she wanted back more than anything.

"Yours always got priority though." Ilina gripped the small canvas bag in her fists, working up the courage. "Do you want me to..."

Velia stood and adjusted her chair away from the desk to give Ilina plenty of room to work. "I do, actually."

With that she crawled across the room, carrying her little toolbag, to Velia's feet. She grabbed one of the boots and wedged it between her thighs and happily got to work. It was quiet and methodical work. Thankfully, unlike many of the other girls in the barracks, Velia usually watched her in silence, or talked to the others.

It was the first time in a while she'd done it and even though all the details were burned into her brain she didn't want to rush it and miss anything. Clean the dirt from every little spot carefully, even though there wasn't any dirt to clean off. Use the right brushes for each job, some areas needed softer brushes, and the chemicals used didn't mix with some types of brush. Matching the stitching with the right color of wax pen. Each little task required attention and care.

In the periphery she saw Velia tugging at her trousers. Adjusting herself.

"You're going to have to wait a bit longer," Ilina said without taking her eyes off her task. "I wish I was able to save your old pair. I miss the character they had. It'll take years for these to be you."

Her fingers traced the creases that used to be. Velia's old pair was probably at least ten years old, doing hard work – as far as any of the rebels did hard work. Walking over rubble and doing training exercises. Before Ilina, they weren't taken as good care of as they should have been, but that was part of why she missed them so much.

Oh, the story those creases and wear told about Velia made her heart sing. What districts did she go to, and what routes did she take? Ilina could tell when Velia went to meet the imperial spymaster they reported to because the dirt that found itself in the small places nobody would think to check wouldn't match any of the routes Velia was supposed to take on patrol.

It would take so long for these to break in and become that kind of reflection of Velia. She wanted to see that happen. If there was a blessing to Morian throwing out all of Velia's stuff years ago it was that it gave Ilina the chance to watch them grow into her from scratch.

The boot she'd been holding firmly between her legs jerked as Velia made some kind of noise. Velia was covering half of her reddened face with the back of her hand, refusing to make eye contact.

Oh?

Oh, Velia.

"I didn't realize this was going to be a thing for you," Ilina poked with a happy, playful grin. "Now stop moving."

Velia forced herself to be still. She was regulating her breathing well, staying calm. Her trousers gave her away though. Eventually Velia asked, "You haven't done this for any other girls, have you?"

"No, ma'am," Ilina lied. Maybe it didn't count as a lie.

She hadn't done it for anyone since Velia entered Carrion's service as Morian's favorite lab rat. Ilina certainly didn't feel right about doing it for anyone until she'd done it for Velia again. Even when she really wanted to. Krystyn's boots really needed some real attention. Vigil's too. You'd only get her to touch Crater's boots with a gun to her head though.

"But," Ilina continued, "I'm going to have to do this for Krystyn at some point, aren't I?"

She didn't want to say it any more than she wanted to be at Krystyn's feet learning way too much about her. But it was true that she would have to eventually. How else was she supposed to get close to Krystyn and make her feel like she'd won her affection without some earnest show of vulnerability? Something deeply personal to connect the two of them.

Something given.

Something accepted.

Like a name.

She remembered the first time Velia called her Ilina. Everyone else did because she hated it, but Velia always called her Hunter. The name she'd chosen and used for years. Biding her time until that perfect moment of vulnerability to nudge Ilina into offering it up. It was so cruel, in hindsight. No, even in the moment Ilina knew it was a mistake, but she needed it.

That was why Velia's plan was going to work on Krystyn. Because she knew already what that woman held dear. What she would eventually offer, given the right nudge in the right moment.

"You're not going to back out, are you? Do you feel sorry for her?"

Ilina couldn't bring her eyes to meet Velia's. Not now.

Feelings of guilt and jealousy mixed in her until she couldn't tell one from the other. Of course she felt bad for Krystyn. And Velia would have to give that woman preferential treatment until she finished training her. Attention and care. There were so many reasons to blow this whole thing up any way she could because...

Why?

"No, ma'am," Ilina muttered, working on the second boot.

There was another stifled moan, or something, from Velia. "You really are such a good girl," she said from behind her hand. The other hand shifted from the occasional head rub to rubbing her cock with her wrist through her pants.

Something about the whole situation was doing something fierce to Velia, and it was infectious. If only they could stop talking about someone else. The names of other women often slipped from Velia's lips during sex. Not in that embarrassing I accidentally called someone mama way. Like curses for all the women who'd wronged Velia. It was no wonder the most often uttered name was Morian's.

For almost the entirety of the second boot the only sounds were those of the brushes dragging across the leather and the occasional rubbing of Velia's pants. Ilina couldn't help but notice a wet spot on those pants, a very small one, but it was there. The brushes needed to be wiped clean and packed away. Containers properly sealed and organized in the bag. Ilina made a point to be deliberate and slow about it, to drag out those agonizing noises Velia was making.

"Take off your clothes," Velia panted once the bag was closed.

Ilina looked down at her hands. Covered in smears of polish and cleaner, with wax stuck to the underside of her nails from where she peeled away the paper to start the pens. "I'll make a mess of the sheets if I don't wash my hands."

A groan, "I can't wait."

"Then you can just take your pants off," Ilina offered. A brief moment of eye contact before she had to look away blushing at the next words to leave her lips. "Did any of the other girls in the barracks walk away unsatisfied?"

It was a simple provocation. Velia was possessive and acutely aware of everyone that had used Ilina since the two of them had met. Predictably she rose to meet it. She unbuckled her belt and shimmied her pants down just enough to get her cock out. A hand pushed Ilina's head down.

"Don't look up at me," she ordered.

Easy enough.

"You're going to need to hold the skin back," Ilina said, before grasping the tip in her mouth.

Velia's cock was a tricky combination of belonging to a trans woman and being uncut. Not to mention it was her first time getting a go at it and she couldn't use her hands. The biggest issue was going to be Velia herself though. Ilina knew that the moment that Velia tried to push Ilina down the whole thing right away.

No, no. That needs to stop.

Ilina threatened to bite, pressing teeth into the shaft and pushing against the hand on the back of her head. And then it was out of her mouth.

"Just let me do this my way," Ilina said, wetting her mouth.

A grumble of discontentment. "You don't know what I like."

"I happen to be a bit of a professional," Ilina barked. Softer, "Give me a little credit."

After a moment of tension, Ilina took it back in her mouth, no deeper than how she started. Just the tip. The textbooks just said where nerves were clustered, and Ilina was always good at putting two and two together.

Suction to pull blood to the tip, because it was more sensitive when it was swollen since the skin was pulled taught, so the nerve endings were easier to stimulate. If she could use her hand she'd apply more pressure at the base and trap it in the spongy tissue.

Then, moisten it, which also made them more sensitive and created less friction.

She made probing, exploratory motions with her tongue, applying pressure to the places she knew to be more sensitive than others; around the edge of the corona and the frenulum mostly. The twitches and whining from Velia said they were properly sensitive.

Teeth — teeth are an important tool, despite everyone’s protests — and tongue pressured the areas she’d located, alternating between slow and fast, and less and more pressure. Velia wasn’t holding back her moans either, instead focusing on holding back the skin and gripping Ilina’s hair in a tight fist.

Suddenly Velia's grip shifted, right as the first twitch happened. Ilina sputtered uselessly as she was pulled all the way down the shaft with two hands securing her in place. A low, labored grunt from Velia was all she heard.

You couldn’t drown from giving someone a blowjob right?

That would be silly.

Velia kept Ilina’s head pointed down even as she discarded Ilina to the side while she shuffled off towards the bathroom to clean up. Just like that.

It was fine. Really! Ilina swallowed what was in her mouth, warm and sticky and thick, wishing she had something to wash it down with at the very least. The sound of Velia discarding soiled clothing filled the room.

The next sounds should have been the door to the bathroom sliding open, but instead after a ponderous silence, Ilina felt Velia pulling her into an embrace from behind. Her breathing was heavy and her perfume mixed with a workout sweat.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “thank you, my dearest hunter.”

A shock of elation washed over her. It felt as good as sex, honestly. She managed to make Velia happy. She did a good job.

“I need to treat you better, don’t I? I know I do. Nobody can live on scraps forever, right?”

For a brief moment Ilina could swear she could hear the sounds of artillery in the distance, and the awful ash and gravel of skeleton city under her fingers. Those words again, right before Velia tore away her name.

No. No, it was a good memory. It was the moment that things changed between them.

“I promised I would show you when we were alone,” Velia hummed, practically purred, “come shower with me. You can see everything.”