Łamia Domestication Guide

Chapter 5 - Paralogism

by Miss_Praxis

Tags: #cw:gore #cw:noncon #dom:female #f/f #Human_Domestication_Guide #multiple_partners #scifi #sub:female #dom:nb #drugs #f/nb #hurt/comfort #lamia #learnedhelplessness #medical_play #mind_control #plantfuckers #restraints #self_harm #self_harm_is_over_were_still_doing_drugs #trauma

 
Atreia felt like an axe had cleaved her head in two. Light burned her retinas even in the dim room. Forming a thought felt like trying to build a building from fire. Her eyes were wet but her cheeks were strangely dry. Her body felt like a sock full of broken porcelain.
 
Atreia couldn’t stop crying, her arms tried to draw up around her as she attempted to move into the fetal position. The restraints wouldn’t let her. Through the waves of pain she clumsily stitched together what had happened. She was aboard an Affini Compact ship, the same xenos that she was made to fight.
 
Her hearts pounded again.
 
She knew they’d done something to her already, faint memories washing back in of a discussion of a surgery. Were they going to turn her into a slave, or worse yet… No, the idea was too terrible.
 
Atreia could still remember the way Director Maitrise’s face cracked like dry mud under the beating sun, her face torn apart with a laugh that sounded more like an animal than a human. It terrified Atreia more than anything that Yorick or any of the other OCNI goons had put her through. The Director had always been so placid, seeming almost like a machine.
 
Then the invasion began. Nobody told Atreia at first, but looking back it seemed quite obvious. The way all the guards' eyes felt hollow, the Director's hair breaking from it’s lock tight bun, and the ever increasing rate of surgeries, grafts, and experimentation with even less regard for human life.
 
Now she was the prisoner of a foe that had crushed all resistance in their path, driven even the soulless monster who’d made her to breaking.
 
Atreia’s tears came thickly as she sobbed, her body wracking against the hidden restraints. 
 
From one pit to another. She would never know freedom, she would never see Isa again. The world spun back and forth tilting on the unstable axis of her perspective.
 
“Excuse me, uhm miss snake, are you alright?” A delicate voice said from infront of her.
 
Even with the onslaught of the rooms light Atrieas eyes snapped open. It was the same person from earlier! The human? The one who had broken the news to her. They were next to the foot of her bed.
 
“W-what?”
 
They seemed about to flee from Atrieas searing gaze but persisted, “I well, nevermind that, I just wanted to know your name, miss snake? Mine is Cardamom”
 
“It doesn’t matter, it hasn’t been important in a longtime. People call me 3991 now.”

Cardamom’s face scrunched as they tilted their head.
 
“3991, that's a really sad name,” they said, perching delicately beside her tail at the foot of the bed.
 
“It wasn’t my name… It was more of. A designation, or even a label I-I guess”
 
“Oh, that definitely sounds sad. I don’t want to call you that,” Cardamom said, shaking their head slowly.
 
“I… I don’t understand,” Atriea scanned the room noticing the wall long display flicker she shifted her tone suddenly, “Why are they having you talk to me? Cardamom, I don’t want to hate you, but if you don’t tell me I will.”
 
Cardamom crystalized, freezing in place with evident anxiety written plainly across their face.
 
They stuttered, “I’m s-sorry, we just wanted to make… To make this easier for you.”
 
Atreias mouth twitched “Make what easier?”
 
Cardamom tensed their body shifting off of the bed readying to flee, “You're going to get angry again even without that, that thing the Navy put in you, aren’t you?”

Atreia reeled mentally at the confirmation. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, they had already cut her open like the specimen she was.
 
This was just like Maitrise’s twisted words that she would be treated with the utmost care. She’d known it from the moment they had led her away from the rest of the prisoners at the spaceport, long before Maitrise. She would be treated with the utmost care indeed. Maitrise hadn’t lied, they were thoroughly meticulous in their work never allowing anything to go wrong. Nothing went wrong. She now had a tail to prove how right the director was.
 
Atriea’s pilot light flicked on. Cardamom practically toppled off the bed, falling fearfully across Atriea’s coils. But Atreias rage and flame died pitfully at the sight of Cardamom's fall. The terror in Cardamom’s eyes brought the sobs back in full force again.

“I’m s-so sorry, I couldn’t—” Atreia’s crying made speech impossibleMaitrise had made her the monster that she wanted. They’d done it. She was nothing more than a horrid weapon.
 
Atreia couldn’t bear this new revelation.
 
“N-no. You don’t need to be sorry.”
 
“Don’t I? I tried to torch you. I‘m a monster.”
 
Cardamom rose peering over the foot of the bed, her eyes large and brimming with tears, “No. I’ll prove it if you if you give me the chance.”
 
“I don’t understand.”
 
“First you’ve gotta make a promise.”
 
Atreia stared at Cardamom, trying to glean a modicum of information about their intent.

Finally Atreia composed herself.“I can’t, not unless you tell me what it is first.”
 
Cardamom lifted up resting their elbows on the bed, propping their head up.“Okay, you’ve gotta promise that even if things are really really hard and, uhm, other people do stuff to you that you won’t hate me.”
 
Atreia stared at them, how could they honestly expect her to do that?

Cardamom, seeing her uncertainty continued, “Because it's not my fault, I can’t decide stuff about you so you aren’t allowed to hate me.”
 
“Oh,” Atreia said, her body sagging back into the bed. “Are you their prisoner as well then?”
 
“No.”
 
“Well then what are you?” Atreia asked with a huff of exasperation.
 
“A pet.”
 
“A pet?!?” Atreia felt her stomach backflip as her heart began to climb again. “So you’re a slave.”
 
Cardamom jumped up, “I am not a slave! I am a pet and I’m proud of it!” They teetered a moment, seeming to decide whether to walk off before crossing their arms.
 
“Okay, you’re a pet?” Atreia said. She had no idea why that distinction mattered. Then she remembered again what she’d wanted to ask, “But what are you here for, Cardamom?”
 
“Hey! I told you that I would explain it if you promised.” Cardamom pouted, staring down at Atriea, their eyes filled with sudden wavering moisture.
 
“I, I don’t know If I can, but if you are telling the truth then… I guess, but so help me if you’re lying I’ll let the last glimmer of my hope for our species die.”
 
“I said I wasn’t, I don’t have anything more to prove.”
 
“Fine, I promise.”
 
Cardamom’s face lit up and they hopped up onto the bed jostling Atreia slightly in the process.
 
“Thank you!” They leaned in conspiratory toward Atreia, “But, there is one more thing.”
 
Atreia sighed heavily. Of course. “What?”
 
“You didn’t tell me your name.”
 
“Atreia”
 
“That's a way prettier name than that other thing.”
 
“I— Thank you Cardamom,” Atreia smiled weakly, “So why are you here?”
 
Cardamom leaned back, crossing their legs. “I guess I am kinda your cushion,” Atreia’s eyebrows pinched with confusion, “To help make it easier for you to, to get used to being here.”
 
“Ya, I guessed that much, but it doesn’t make much sense.”
 
This time it was Cardamom’s turn to look confused. “It makes sense to me, you look like you need a cushion,”
 
The small smile cracked a bit wider as Atreia let herself flop back into the pile of them behind her. “Well, I guess you're not entirely wrong.”
 
“I seldom am.”
 
“Uh, huh.”
 
The door gave a soft hiss as it started to furl up into the walls flanking it. Atreia instinctually tried to recoil hastily into a ball of scales, but again the restraints stopped her.
 
An affini glided slowly into the room. It’s movements were smooth to the point that its legs almost flowed through the air. Atreia was transfixed, her hearts pounding in her chest and groin. The affini had large fern like fronds wreathing its head. The sapient plant looked almost fluffy with the sheer multitude of different leaves, fronds, and flowers that covered it.
 
It was the same. The same whirling dervish of fog that had, that had- 
 
Atreia’s breathing picked up into rasping gasps as her tail thrashed against it’s bondage
 
The affini paused seeing the girl's reaction. It hung frozen by its vines, impossibly held midstride. 
 
Cardamom leapt up from the bed, throwing themselves between the two. “Wait, Taniva. Coni promised!”
 
The affini slid into a more natural looking neutral stance.
 
“That is true, however I think we need to start talking to... Atreia? Atreia, right? About her… options.”
 
The world flickered as the room slid away from Atreia. The affini’s words burned into her mind like a lighting strike across the night sky. The distant scene continued to play out passing steadily in front of her small lense.
 
Cardamom’s body shook and their hair curled up as the bloom on their head split open with a vibrant green. They seemed to waver for an instant before balling their fists. “So you don’t care about another’s promise. Figures.”
 
Taniva’s fronds undulated anxiously. “No, that's not it at all, I need a lot more than just her name. We are on a tight schedule. I understand that Conysciea trusts you to do quite a bit on your own, floret. But, but this is my patient and—”
 
Cardamom glanced back over their shoulder at Atreia, the set of their eyes felt different brimming with intensity now. “I don’t think this is about trust and you know that. You know for a detached researcher you sure let your feelings get the best of you, Taniva. You made a promise to wait,” They crossed their arms, looking down at the ground, “Honestly I should have gotten it writing, but I assumed you had better self control than Vaciea.”
 
Taniva shifted back her fronds wilting around her, “I…” The affini gave an appraising look at the pair before nodding, “You’re right. I also hope you know that you are often one step from falling out of your place. I know Coni trusts you all. But, she gives you a greater degree of freedom than many others. You push the limits of what any floret can be allowed.”
 
“Yup.”
 
Taniva signed and turned with a swish of foliage departing.
 
Atreia felt the world speeding up again, Cardamom had, had just bossed this alien conqueror around like a student being lectured? Atreia couldn’t make sense of it. Her mouth simply gaped.

“Thank you, Cardamom.”
 
Cardamom turned to face her. “Sencha, and you don’t have to thank me for reminding somebody of their obligations.”
 
“Sencha?”
 
“That's my name.”
 
“Wait, I thought it was Cardamom?”
 
They face palmed, green spiky hair looking like a patch of long grass caught in the wind. They muttered from inside their hands, “Its simple Cardamom is called Cardamom and I am Sencha.”
 
A mental strand connected and Atreia let out an embarrassed laugh, “Oh, I think I get it.”
 
“I hope you do,” said Sencha.
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