ROYAL REWARD: Porcelain Puella (Inanimate TF, Madoka)

Homura’s base clattered against the stand as the maid lowered her with a frown. Tightening her grip on her handles, she turned her a little to the right, stepped back, cocked her head, and made to turn her a little to the left. Stepping back again, she inspected her again, nodded in satisfaction, and turned to go.

The vase named Homura watched her leave in silence. Despite her lack of a human mouth, she could have spoken, but they wouldn’t have heard her. She wasn’t inclined to anyway. Good vases do not talk. It simply wasn’t a thing that was done.

In months past, she might have, of course. Her transformation into a vase had been quite distressing at first. For the first months, she’d been terrified, appalled at the strange dulling of her senses and the loss of her ability to move. The change had played over and over in her head, taunting her at night: the way she’d hollowed out, a hole forming in her head, while her legs collapsed and her arms curved into a pair of alien handles.

Now, she felt nothing more than a calm acceptance about her place in the world. She was a vase. Vases do not need to talk, or move. Vases simply stand stock-still on their pedestals, items of beauty designed to make the entire house more beautiful with their presence. And Homura felt she was a very beautiful vase indeed. She took no small amount of pride in it.

As she sat there, awaiting the arrival of someone who could relish in her appearance, the maid returned, carrying in her hands a bottle of cleaner fluid and a cloth.

Ah, thought Homura. I suppose it is time for another cleaning. I am getting a little dusty. Very well.

If she’d still been human, she would have closed her eyes and spread her arms, baring her naked body for the maid to clean. As vase, she didn’t have to, of course. Her body was always bared for any who wished to see it, nor did she have eyes to open or close in the first place.

Spraying a little fluid on her rag, the maid leaned in close, placed a hand on Homura’s backside and the cloth on Homura’s face. A human being might have flinched at having a damp cloth slapped into their features, but Homura took it with all the pride of the beautiful vase she was, standing stern and solid as the maid started to rub in circles. Yes, that’s right, she thought. Excellent work. Make sure to get under my handles.

Working her way around Homura’s body, the maid inevitably came to Homura’s prodigious breasts. Ah! Ah! Oh my… Homura moaned as the cloth worked over and over them, rubbing until she wanted to overflow with delight. Oh! Oh! Oh, yes, that’s exquisite! Oh, yes! Make sure to get in between them!

Finishing with Homura’s breasts, the maid swiftly cleaned the rest of her dirty, dirty body, leaving Homura so full of delight she could have tipped over and spilled it everywhere. Fortunately, she was far too stable a vase for something like that.

As the maid finished her work and turned to go, Homura sat there and stewed in delight. Ah, was there anyway her life could get better?

The door creaked open again, and Homura strained to see what it was. Her vision was greatly changed now that she lacked eyes. While people–particularly those who were admiring her–were easy enough to perceive, everything else tended to fade into a hazy blur. Another thing she’d found distressing at first but which had since become a normal part of the experience.

As the woman came into view, Homura could have gasped: in her hands, the maid held another vase. Not just any vase, but one whose colors were bright pink and white, with a design resembling a poofy, frilly dress. A vase she hadn’t seen since her transformation.

“Madoka!” Homura cried.

“Homura!” Madoka chirped back, equally happy, as the maid placed her on the pedestal to Homura’s side and turned to go. “So this is where you’ve been all this time! You look so pretty!”

“Th-thank you,” said Homura, feeling like she’d overflow. “It’s so good to see you again! I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, please,” said Madoka, with a giggle. “Everyone knows you’re the most beautiful vase in the house. Just look at your wonderful hair. And your face! It’s so flat and featureless now, it’s gorgeous!”

“Oooh, thank you.” Homura sighed, basking in the admiration. Her face once held humanlike features, but as she’d accepted her new place in the world they’d faded to leave nothing but smooth, blank porcelain. “But it looks like you’ve done the same. You’re okay with being a vase now? It took me forever to get used to it.”

“I am now,” said Madoka. “It was a struggle at first, but I soon realized how happy it made me. Being a vase is so much better than being a human being!”

Homura laughed. “You look so much prettier for it.”

“Oh, stop it!” Madoka squealed. “You’re going to make me tip over!”

Homura giggled. Being turned into vases was such a blessing for them. No more did they have to worry about the troubles of being magical girls; all they had to do was exist as the items of beauty they become. Exist, and bask in the appreciation they engendered.

“By the way, have you seen any of the others?” she asked, curious.

“No.” Madoka responded, though her voice remained optimistic. “But I’m sure they’re around, being just as beautiful as we are.”

Before she could say anything else, the door opened again, and another pair of maids entered the room. Striding over to Homura and Madoka, they seized them by the handles and wrenched them off their stands, grunting as they turned and made their way out of the room.

“H-hey!” cried Homura, voice unheard. “Where are they taking us? H-hey! Put us back!”

“It’s okay,” said Madoka, voice reassuring. “I’m sure it’s somewhere just as nice as here. And so long as we’re together, we’ll be happy wherever they put us!”

Homura felt like she was overflowing.