Korra meets a friend

I’m sorry to say that there is no sexual content this chapter. This chapter is purely a Korra focused one to help develop her character. But, I’m almost finished with the next chapter and I promise plenty of sexy content ahead. For now, at the end of the chapter, I have a little gift for those who came here purely for a wank.

-Thanks, Shepard

Back home, Korra sat in her room trying and failing to meditate. Her thoughts were rampant with the images of Jill and Ellie’s lovemaking she’d witnessed earlier.

How could they be so happy? Korra thought to herself.

The sounds of Jill and Ellie's intimate encounter still lingered in her mind, evoking memories of her own tender moments with Asami. With a frustrated sigh, Korra gave up. She rose from her cushion, her legs stiff from the failed attempt at relaxation.

Pacing the room, Korra's agitation grew. The soft carpet beneath her feet was a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside her. Her hands flexed into fists, then released, as if searching for a way to channel her emotions.

The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant hum of the air conditioning unit. The mechanical whir was a jarring reminder of the artificial world she found herself in. Everything about this place felt distorted, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror.

Korra's gaze drifted to the window, where she pressed her forehead against the cool glass. The outside world seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil. Couples strolled hand in hand, children played in the park, and cars drove by with a soothing whoosh. The normalcy of it all only heightened her sense of disconnection.

She tried to summon her bending, reaching deep within herself for the familiar spark of energy. But it was gone, leaving behind a hollow feeling that was both frustrating and frightening.

In her mind's eye, Korra saw Asami's calm, confident face. She would know how to navigate this strange new world, how to find a way forward. But Asami was not here, and Korra was left to face her doubts and fears alone.

Korra takes a deep breath, stealing herself. Then she makes her way out of her bedroom, towards the front door.

She reached for the doorknob, her fingers faltering for a moment before she turned it, pulling the door open just enough to peer outside. The evening air rushed in, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the acrid tang of car exhaust – a jarring contrast to the familiar smells of her own world.

As she hesitated, Angela's voice came from behind her, making Korra spin around, her muscles instinctively tensing into a defensive posture. Angela stood in the hallway, her expression a mix of concern and empathy.

"Leaving without a word?" Angela asked, her voice gentle but probing.

Korra's hand dropped away from the doorknob as she met Angela's gaze. "I just needed a moment to clear my head," she said, the words feeling like a thin veil over her true intentions.

Angela nodded; an understanding look on her face. "I know the feeling," she said. "I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I just wanted to be sure you were ok.”

“I’m so sick you you asking me that.” Korra said depression heavy in her voice.

“I know, but I meant going out there.” Angela gestures to the door, and the world beyond. “I haven’t been out of the house since I’ve arrived here. I haven’t really wanted too, until I was more comfortable.”

Korra's shoulders sagged, as if she was being held down by the weight of the world. "I just need a break from this place. It's like the walls are closing in on me."

Angela embraces her own arm in a comforting position. "Of course. Please, just be safe. Out there, you truly are just an object to people. They won’t see you as a person, that is if they recognize you as a fictional character and don’t mistake you for a real person.”

“And if they realize I’m not from this world?” Korea asks. “If they realize I’m not real. What then?”

“Depends on the person.” Angela says. “Some might be welcoming, others may avoid you, some might be uncomfortable or rude. But your biggest concern is the people who’d want to steal you and resell you.” Angela's words hung in the air, leaving Korra feeling ****.

Korra's gaze snapped back to Angela, her eyes searching for clarification. "You mean, people would actually try to take me by ****?"

Angela's expression turned grim, "There's a black market for characters like us. People who'd stop at nothing to exploit us for their own gain."

Korra's jaw clenched. "So, I'm not just a prisoner in this world, I'm also a target?"

Angela's nod was solemn. "Unfortunately. I'm trying to protect you, Korra. Jacob has security measures in place, and we look out for each other. We want to keep you safe."

Korra's laughter was bitter, her eyes welling up with tears. "Safe? You call this safe?" She gestured to the room, the house, the entire world that felt so alien to her.

Angela shifted closer, her voice soft. "I know it's a lot to take in. As I’m sure you’re tired of hearing me say, I’m sorry.”

Korra scoffs as Angela’s words. Without saying anything else, Korra turns and leaves, the door closing behind her.

Outside, Korra takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh air. Then, slowly, she starts walking.

As Korra strolled down the sidewalk, the cool evening air enveloped her, a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere inside the house. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, smells familiar to the smells of her own world.

Her gaze remained fixed on the pavement, avoiding eye contact with passersby. A couple walking their dog cast a curious glance in her direction, prompting Korra to quicken her pace. Angela's warning about being recognized as a fictional character lingered in her mind, making her feel like a fragile, exposed thing.

The neighborhood's uniformity struck her as peculiar. Row upon row of identical houses stretched out before her, each one perfectly manicured and eerily similar to the next. It was a far cry from the eclectic, vibrant architecture of Republic City, where every building told a story.

A group of teenagers sauntered past, their laughter and conversation filling the air. One of them did a double take, staring at Korra with an intensity that made her skin prickle. She swiftly turned down a side street, seeking to escape their prying eyes.

As Korra walked on, soon the repetitive sight of the suburbs faded as the city came into view. Korra was still not impressed by the sight of this worlds example of a city, but it certainly seemed more familiar in feeling. The afternoon sun beginning to lower in the sky.

The skyscrapers rose before her, their sleek glass facades glinting in the fading light. The contrast to Republic City was jarring, with these buildings seeming to prioritize function over form. Her pace slowed as she approached a bustling intersection, where strange looking automobiles hurtled past with a cacophony of horns and revving engines.

A digital billboard above the intersection caught her eye, its high-definition display cycling through a dizzying array of images. The technology was reminiscent of the screens in Republic City, yet its sophistication was unmistakable. Korra stood mesmerized, watching as advertisements for unfamiliar products flashed by.

Two businessmen strode past, one of them breaking stride to stare at Korra. "Wait, aren't you...?" he began, but his companion tugged him onward before he could finish the thought. Korra's pulse quickened, Angela's warnings about being recognized still fresh in her mind.

Seeking to avoid further attention, Korra turned down a quieter side street, where the foot traffic was sparse. The aroma of food wafting from a nearby restaurant making her stomach growl greedily. However, she had no local currency – a problem she'd need to address soon.

As Korra walked, a flock of pigeons took flight, and she instinctively raised her hands, expecting to airbend them away. But her bending abilities remained dormant, a depressing reminder of her situation.

“Thanks for shopping with us sir.”

A beautiful, familiar voice echoed through the air. Korea stopped dead in her tracks as she recognized the voice.

Korra turned her head, and her heart swelled with joy. Jinora, her dear friend and mentor, basically a wise younger sister to Korra, was here. Just a dozen feet away from Korra as she served a customer. Jinora looked older than Korra remembered, and her choice of clothing was oddly revealing. But Korra didn’t care, she was so happy to see the girl.

Without thinking, Korra rushed forward, her heart racing with excitement. "Jinora!" she called out, her voice trembling with emotion.

Jinora turned at the sound of her name, and her expression quickly became that of pure joy as she saw Korra, “Korra!” The two women rushed towards each other, meeting in a tight hug. Korra's eyes welled up with tears as she held Jinora close, the familiar scent of her friend's hair a comforting reminder of home.

As they pulled back, Korra's gaze roamed over Jinora's face, taking in the subtle changes time had etched. "I've missed you so much," Korra said, her voice trembling with emotion. "How did you end up here?"

Jinora's smile faltered, and she gestured to the coffee shop behind her. "I've been here for nearly 2 years. I work at this coffee shop." Her uniform, a far cry from the traditional airbender robes Korra was used to seeing her friend wear, seemed to be designed expressly to show off as much of Jinora’s petite body as possible without breaking any laws.

“You’ve been here two years…” Korra’s voice cracked with shock.

As Jinora took in Korra, an understanding look settled along her face. “Oh, Korra,” Jinora said with a sadness, “You’re a new purchase, aren’t you?”

Korra heart sank at those words. The joy of finding her friend quickly turned to ash in her mouth as the reality of their situation hit her. "That obvious, huh?" she asked.

Jinora nodded, glancing around nervously before taking Korra's hand. "Let's talk over here," she said, leading them to a quiet corner near the coffee shop's entrance. "My break starts in a few minutes anyway."

As they moved, Korra noticed the way other customers' eyes followed them, some with recognition, others with a hungry gleam that made her skin crawl. Jinora seemed accustomed to the attention, keeping her head down and moving quickly.

"Who..." Korra started, her throat tight. "Who owns you?"

"The owner of this coffee shop," Jinora replied, her voice low. "He has a collection of characters working here. He claims it's a marketing strategy." She gestured to her uniform, tugging self-consciously at the hem. "The outfits are part of the package."

Korra's fists clenched at her sides. "This is exploitation. We have to find a way to-"

"Korra, wait," Jinora cut her off, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "We can’t.”

“The fuck you mean we can’t?” Korra argued. “They are enslaving people here! You shoul-“

“Yes, they are,” Jinora interrupts Korra, “And in this world, they are allowed to. Here, we are just fictional characters. We aren’t real to them. So, they can and do enslave us. And if we resist, then they either wipe our minds and turn us into mindless servants or they sell off of too someplace worse.” Jinora’s eyes were full of fear, her voice trembling.

“Jinora.” Korra says.

“Korra, you’re new so I can give you the benefit of the doubt. But please, listen to me. Don’t try to fight them. You can’t win.” Jinora’s words hung in the air.

Korra’s shoulders dropped as her expression turned from rage to contemplation. “So, you've just accepted the situation?”

Jinora nodded, “It was easier to. The people that bought me, bought me for the purpose of being a waitress. They aren’t terrible, they realized long ago that keeping the characters they purchased happy made them more productive and less likely to try and runway and cost the company more money.” Jinora finds a table and takes a seat, gesturing for Korra to sit as well. “So, I only work 8-hour shifts. I have a private room to sleep in and get some privacy. They feed me ok, I get books to read and tv to watch. It’s not thrilling or anything but it’s not horrible.”

Jinora’s words hung in the air as Korra sat down across from her, her mind racing with questions. "What about your family? Do you ever hear from Tenzin, Pema, or your siblings?"

A flash of pain crossed Jinora's face, and she looked down, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the table's surface. "I miss them every day," she admitted, her voice laced with a deep longing. "But I've learned to cope with the distance."

Korra scoffs, "You learned to cope. Thats shit Jinora, and you know it."

Jinora just shrugs, "Its reality. This reality. There is no way home, we're here forever. No point in making things worse for yourself here."

Korra just scoffs again. An awkward silence fills the air. Jinora studies Korra for a second before she speaks, "Who is your owner, Korra?"

Korra's expression turned bitter. "A man named Jacob. He has a few other characters, Angela, Jill, and Ellie. They seem... resigned to their situation, I guess. But I just can't accept this. Being treated like a possession, a plaything for someone's entertainment."

Jinora smiled at Korra, “Sounds like you. Spirits it is good to see you again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Korra snaps.

"Nothing, it's just you're still you. Still resisting against change. Fighting against anything and everyone. It's just, nice to see that par of you again." Jinora clarifies.

"Yeah, just resisting being a ****, typical Korra!" Korra mocks.

“Korra, has your owner abused you at all?” Jinora asks.

Korra's anger waned at Jinora's question, her expression softening ever so slightly. "No," she admitted, her **** evident. "He hasn't hurt me. He's been... considerate, I suppose."

Jinora's eyes locked onto Korra's; her gaze filled with a deep understanding. "And has he done anything to the other characters he owns?”

“No.” Korra says, pouting as she sees the direction the conversation is going.

“From the looks of it he gives you a lot of freedom. I mean, you’re here on your own so that definitely proves that.” Jinora chuckles.

“So, what? So, I’m not waiting on him hand and foot every second of every day. I'm not working as a waiter in a stupid cafe or being fucking **** every day. That doesn’t make it right.” Korra argues.

“No, not right. But better.” Jinora clarifies. “Korra, do you have any idea how lucky you are?” Jinora asks.

“Lucky? Are you kidding me!” Korra almost screams.

“I mean fuck Korra, you don’t have any idea how worse it could be.” Jinora states, “I got pretty lucky, corporations that own characters are under a certain level of responsibility to them. They have to take care of us, not only because **** is illegal for them, but because it costs them too much money. Hundreds of thousands of characters around the world share my situation. It’s not great, but it could be much worse.”

“How?” Korra asks. "How could it be worse?"

“You are privately owned.” Jinora explains. “You could’ve been bought by a monster. Someone who wanted a new toy to break. A psychopath would kill you for the fun of it and not be punished. Or a perverted monster that likes girls who resist. You could be owned by a prostitution ring. You could’ve been modified to be an any type of mutated, perverted version of yourself. But instead, you are owned by a guy who hasn’t hurt you, hasn’t **** himself on you, who lets you leave the house on your whim, and who has other characters that seem to be happy with him?” Jinora’s words hung in the air as Korra sat in stunned silence, her mind reeling from the harsh realities of her situation.

The weight of Jinora's words slowly sank in, and Korra's expression transformed from defiance to despair. "I feel so trapped," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jinora's eyes filled with compassion as she reached out to squeeze Korra's hand. "I know it's hard to accept, but sometimes the best way to survive is to adapt. Try to find ways to make your life more bearable, even if it's not ideal."

Korra's thoughts drifted to Asami, and a pang of longing shot through her chest. "But what about the people I left behind?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

Jinora's grip on Korra's hand tightened. "You can hold on to the memories of your past, but you have to accept that this is your reality now. It's not fair, but it's the truth."

Korra's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "Have you ever tried to find a way back home? Through meditation or...?"

Jinora's expression turned somber, and she shook her head. "I tried everything I could think of, but our connection to the spirit world is severed here. This reality operates under different rules, and we're bound by them."

"So, I'm just supposed to accept the situation? Be happy that I'm owned by a good guy? That my situation isn't as bad as it could be?" Korra asks.

"Such a negative way to put it," Jinora sighs, "But yes, basically."

Korra shakes her head infuriated. The two sit in silence for a bit, taking in each other's words. As the coffee shop's bustle resumed, Jinora glanced over her shoulder, her eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. "I need to get back to work soon," she said, her voice tinged with regret.

"Already?" Korra asks.

"I only get 15 minutes," Jinora says, "But as I said, I only work 8-hour shifts. Afterwards, I get to go to my room and rest."

"Thats awful." Korra complains.

"That's life." Jinora shrugs.

Korra's expression softens, "Are you..." Korra doesn't want to say happy.

"Happy?" Jinora chuckles. "No, Korra. I'm not happy. But I'm not miserable. And that's enough."

Jinora stands up, preparing to return to her job. Korra's eyes locked onto Jinora's. "Can I come see you again?" she asked.

Jinora's face softened, and she smiled. "I'd like that," she said. "But you should get going now. Out here, by yourself, it can be dangerous. I’m safe, so long as I’m at work. But you should get back to your owner soon.” The words still lingered in the air, and Korra's jaw clenched in distaste. She yearned to rebel against the notion, but Jinora's earlier words had struck a chord, and the weight of their reality was settling in.

“Jinora, I can’t tell you how happy I am to have seen you.” Korra smiles, “I mean hell, you’re a bit older now than I last saw you.”

Jinora lets out a small laugh, running her fingers through her longer hair. "Time flies when you're trying to survive," she says wryly. "I was sixteen when I was brought here. Two years have passed since then."

As she glances at the clock, her expression grows more anxious. "My break is over, Korra. I really need to get back to work." Korra nods, understanding but **** to leave. "When's your next shift? I'd like to come back and talk more."

Jinora stands up, smoothing down her apron. "I work every day 7am to 3pm." She hesitates for a moment before adding, "Just be careful, okay? It's getting late, I really don’t want you to get hurt."

Korra's face darkens at the warning. She really hated this world. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get home and then I’ll come back soon. I’ll make this a regular thing, seeing you.”

Jinora nods, her eyes clouded with concern. She scans the coffee shop, now bustling with the late afternoon crowd. "Text me when you get home, okay?" She jots down her number on a napkin and hands it to Korra.

Korra raises an eyebrow, "Text you?"

Jinora's expression turns wry. "You don't have one yet?" Korra shakes her head and Jinora rolls her eyes, "You need to get one. Ask your owner for one, from what I gather he might be willing to give you one."

"Ok." Korra stands up, hugging Jinora once more. "I'll see you again, soon."

Jinora hugs Korra tightly, "I know. Goodbye, Korra."

As their embrace ends, Korra watches as Jinora walks away. Her heart sinking at the prospect of leaving the poor girl here. With a frustrated sigh, Korra makes her way back home...

(Hot image of Korra for your pleasure)