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The Rachni Queen	By : Hyperion Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 49571 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all related characters are property of Bioware and EA Games. I do not profit from this in any way.

Chapter List
- 12
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There was some irony in walking among the greediest brokers and traders in the galaxy without anyone recognizing that he was one of the wealthiest men on the wards, but then he didn’t exactly look the part.

Zaeed paid them as little attention as they paid him. They lived in different worlds, and his newly liquid status didn’t change that. They had all the volume and impatience of youth to them. He was pushing 60, and he’d already started to feel it; at best, he had about 5 or 6 good years left in him. If he kept it up beyond that, the day would quickly come when he just wasn’t fast enough to dodge a bullet. If he was lucky. More likely he’d get torn to shreds by a pack of vorcha.

Whenever he came to the Presidium, which was as infrequently as possible if he could help it, his eye was always drawn to the krogan statue looming large above the water. Commissioned fuck knows how many centuries ago, to fluff up already inflated egos after the krogan had beaten back the rachni and saved the galaxy. And fuck knows how many centuries after, it had been the krogan who had been hunted down and put in their place, and in a couple hundred more years, that memorial to krogan sacrifice would be a memorial to the krogan race.

At least it had survived this long, while the Presidium had transformed around it. Zaeed loathed the gloss and glamor of places like this. It was as artificial as the sunlight beaming down from the ceiling; a pretense adopted by men and women who wanted to believe they were a different breed from any common cutthroat on Omega. At least that place was honest about what it was. Was a time when this place was more honest about itself too. Or at least parts of it were. Merc or millionaire, the scum all sneaked down to Chora's Den at the end of the day. There was no class within those walls. Everyone was just as bad as everyone else, and that was just how everyone liked it.

But then they’d closed down Chora’s Den for renovations after a piece of Sovereign came crashing through the roof, and when the sign on the door had gathered so much dust you couldn’t even read the words, it was clear the place was history. Some eezo miner had bought the space, and was apparently planning to set up a more upscale establishment in its place. No more backroom games of Skyllian-Five. No more strippers . A classier joint for a classier bunch, which seemed to be a recurring thought across the station. Everywhere the Reaper’s bones had touched, property developers had swooped in, and the lower wards were slowly getting gentrified so the rich would deign to be sighted in the vicinity.

With everything changing in the blink of an eye, he'd started wondering if he should find a nice piece of property to settle down while he still had the time. Elysium? Not unless the Alliance got serious about getting rid of the batarians in the Verge. Eden Prime? Safest human colony in the galaxy, they all said, until the geth showed up. Illium? Tempting, but turn down the wrong alley in Nos Astra and no one would ever see you again. For a brief moment he strongly considered Omega. It was violent and foul and infested with criminality, but the argument could be made that so was he. He’d fit in perfectly, until the day came when he was 75 and couldn’t fight worth shit, and some krogan merc he’d offended decades ago decided to break down his door and snap him in half.

And this all presumed he'd live long enough to worry about real estate planning.

He wasn’t an idiot. Every single person on that ship knew they were going to die, and every single person on that ship had their reasons for staying. Duty, loyalty, adventure, heroism, whatever they wanted to call it. For Zaeed, the motivations had not been quite so lofty. That’s a lot of fucking credits, he remembered, had been his initial reaction to Cerberus’ offer. And it was. More money than any other job he’d ever done. Even if he were the kind of man to live large, which he was not, he still had no idea how he could possibly spend all the money Cerberus had dropped in his lap.

But this seemed like a good start.

The Consort was closing up shop and selling the space too, but not because of Reaper damage. For years she’d been a lightning rod for controversy, ever since a leaked Hierarchy military report had identified her as a hole in the intelligence net. Men told her things as they lay in her bed, intoxicated by the scents and feel of her flesh. Many a time these were important men; soldiers and businessmen and politicians, and they told her things they should not have. Her critics insisted Sha’ira was little more than a prostitute by any other name, but what happened within her chambers remained an elusive secret, until someone had posted a revealing vid online and kicked off a storm. It was not clear who the culprit had been, but they had managed to tape one of Sha’ira’s personal sessions, and for the next three months the Citadel’s top extranet download had been a video of a steamy sexual encounter between the Consort and a prominent elcor diplomat. The diplomat had been quietly sent back to Dekuuna, another soon filling his place, and the critics had squawked a little louder than usual, but the real fallout had been how quickly her client list had dried up. Sha’ira’s chambers were no longer unbreachable, and no one wanted to risk getting caught on tape. Word was that Sha’ira was shifting base to start over somewhere new. Illium was the best guess going around.

She didn’t seem the kind to move to Omega, that was for sure.

He suspected he was the last client she planned to entertain on the Citadel before she left, and her prices would have burned deep holes in his pockets before Cerberus had written him that fat check. Whores were a dime a dozen on every port world in the galaxy, and he'd dropped plenty of dimes in plenty of ports. Mostly humans and asari, and a few quarians on rare occasions. He'd even had a drell girl once. He couldn't remember what they'd done, but the next 36 hours had passed in a bizarre acid trip. That had sworn him off drell girls forever. There was only so much you could do with an organic body, and what Sha'ira did to charge the costs that she did was beyond him, but he had the means to sate his curiosity, so why not?

The foyer was silent now, whereas once it had buzzed with the excited chatterings of clients waiting for their first time with the famous Consort. An attendant introduced herself as Nelyna and invited Zaeed to take a seat on one of the plush leather sofas, and he watched her saunter away like a model on a ramp as he waited in the empty room. Tasteful art adorned the walls, and the ambient music wasn’t the standard elevator fare. Some overpriced decorator had gone to a lot of effort to reassure visitors this wasn’t just a whorehouse.

“The Consort is ready to see you now.”

A bizarre, moody Forta sculpture hung in a corner, so unsettlingly captivating that Zaeed didn’t hear Nelyna’s return or her voice when she spoke. She spoke again, repeating her words, and his train of thought lapsed. At the end of the room, she was opening a door that led down a dimly lit hall, as far as he could tell.

“You’re very lucky,” she said, “Sha’ira was eager to leave the Citadel as soon as possible, but she changed her plans at the last minute to fit you into the schedule.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, girl,” Zaeed replied. “You’d be surprised how flexible schedules can get when there are more credits than you can count on the table.”

If she felt his blunt rebuttal lacked grace, her face did not reveal it, continuing to flash that inviting smile with all the composure of a professional. She held the door open and he passed through, stepping into a hallway with many doors on either side. Probably the chambers where Sha’ira’s apprentices entertained those clients who couldn’t afford the Consort herself. He was not in that category.

“It’s the door at the end, Mr. Massani.”

“Right,” he replied, looking back to find her closing the door behind him. “Door at the end….what should I expect?”

Nelyna’s smile only widened. “That depends entirely on you, Mr. Massani.”

Incandescent lights bathed the hall in their dim red glow, just bright enough to see what was ahead. Silence permeated every inch of the space. Zaeed found himself wondering what it must have been to like to walk down here just a few months ago, before the leak of that video, when every room must have been filled with clients and their attendants. Was there still this dead silence, or could you tell what was happening within just by pressing your ear against the door?

His door was nondescript and seemed just like any of the others, but for the fact that it was at the very end of the hall. It was also the only door unlocked, and even open, just by the slightest crack, but no light poured out through the opening.

“Come inside, Zaeed.”

He followed her voice inside, and found her waiting for him. The light fell on Sha’ira like a deity in her temple. A diaphanous robe clung tight to her figure, accentuating every curve and valley of her form, and in the dim red glow he could just about make out that she was bare beneath the robe.

“I have awaited your arrival,” she said, pressing her palm against his chest and gazing up to meet his eyes. “In truth, the Citadel holds no more joy for me……but you are a famous man, Zaeed. A master of arts that can bring only turmoil to the souls of even the hardest men. I am a healer of souls. I sensed your pain, and how could I deny my duty to alleviate it?”

Mere minutes ago, that same attitude from Nelyna had been met with a retort, but now the words froze in his throat, cutting off one sense while the others went into overdrive. He took in her fragrance, ran his eyes down the contours of her robe, and she palmed his cheek to direct him to a vast, king-sized bed to the side of the room. “My tools are not the scalpel and drill, nor the chemicals in their bottles,” she whispered, leading him onto the bed and pushing him down on his back, his neck propped up by large, comfortable pillows. “I heal with what the Goddess has provided to us all. Hearts and souls and passions, and yes, the flesh as well. With tools such as these, what more do I need?”

Zaeed felt a rustling to his right, and saw another asari rise from amidst the ruffled red bedsheets. She was nude, and as her fingers massaged his bicep, she pressed her bare breast against his skin, and he felt his erection throb harder in response.

“Theia,” the Consort named her, and the second asari rose to give him an eyeful of her perfect form. She moved behind her mistress, placing her hands on Sha’ira’s shoulders before slowly pulling down the Consort’s robe. It fell easily, bunching around her hips and releasing her breasts, ripe and lush, with firm dark nipples that hardened as the cold air licked them lovingly.

Sha’ira lay down next to him, smiling that enigmatic smile, as Zaeed touched her mounds, as if to see whether all of it was real or an illusion unraveling before him. When he was satisfied, his hand traveled below, pulling off the robe with none of Theia’s grace, and casting it aside so Sha’ira was bare before him. Her slim hand took hold of his own, inviting it down between her legs, to feel for himself how wet she was. But he did no more than feel, for her slim grip was firm, and told him clearly that the night would proceed at her own pace. The two moved swiftly, removing his clothes methodically, until he was as naked as they were.

No sooner had Zaeed been stripped bare did another asari emerge, sliding from the shadows like a ghost, mounting the bed on all fours. This one was clearly the youngest, her skin the color of teal, with large brown eyes and scarlet markings across her face. From the look of her, she could not have been older than 40. Her breasts were not yet as big as her kind could get, but they were getting there, and what she may have lacked in experience she made up for through initiative, nuzzling against Zaeed’s neck as her silky fingers caressed his manhood.

“This is Laena,” Sha’ira said, placing his hand on the girl’s soft breast. “She is new, but she shows promise.” His index finger followed the curve of Laena’s bosom, and her nipple stiffened in his grip, easily, expectantly. “But if you would prefer a girl with more experience, I can arrange that in minutes.”

Like he could tell one blue cunt from another. “She’s fine,” he muttered, and Laena smiled sweetly, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. The three closed in on him, the younger pair touched his temples with the tips of their fingers while Sha’ira laid her palms on the sides of his head.

“The melding can be a shock even for those who have experienced it before,” she warned, “Are you prepared, Zaeed?”

Prepared for what?

He’d melded with the asari before. See one; you’ve seen ‘em all.

Sha’ira’s face was inches away from his, so close he could see her lips glisten. “Now,” she pronounced, leaning in, “Embrace eternity.”

Zaeed spasmed violently where he lay as a white-hot sensation surged through his brain. It seemed like all the blood in his body had decided to make the trip to his head, and the veins in his neck popped as he gritted his teeth, trying to box up the yell in his throat, and only partially succeeding as his mouth spat out staggered curses in sharp staccato.

“It is different with many minds,” he heard the Consort’s voice narrate, and through a crack in his blurred vision he could see the three asari huddled over him, their eyes as black as death. “Typically, only the asari can handle such a union smoothly. Other species find it….taxing.”

And as suddenly as it had struck, the pain slipped away. His breathing regulated itself back to normalcy, and the white-hot flashes were cooled by the night’s bitter wind. He opened his eyes and saw Sha’ira’s, and had half a mind to throttle her until he realized he couldn’t just see Sha’ira --- he could feel her. And Theia. And Laena. Without even touching them, he could feel them, and feel what they felt. His every nerve buzzed like an electric current ran through it. He watched as Theia gently rubbed the inside of Laena’s thigh; he felt her stirring lust as though it were in himself, and it made him harder than he had ever felt before.

“In the embrace of the Goddess, we are all entwined,” Sha’ira said, the fervor burning in her eyes. “Our souls cropped from the bounties of her love, all the same, and more wondrous when joined. Others may forget this, but the asari always remember.”

Perhaps it was just the mental link that now connected them all, but her passion was infectious. The younger pair, less experienced than their mistress at tempering their desires, moaned piteously with each passing second that their lusts were not quenched, and Zaeed would have gladly indulged them but for the sway that Sha’ira seemed to hold over them all. Seemingly paying no heed to the miasma of arousal that permeated the air, she placed her forehead against Zaeed’s, closing her eyes as if deep in meditation.

“I see it, Zaeed,” she whispered, “I see you.” And he knew that she could see him, for he could feel her sifting through his thoughts, taking in all that he was to know all that he could be.

“Anger….,” she finally said, after nearly a minute of silence. “Some still breathe whom you feel should not. And hate, such hate, bright and terrible within your breast.”

This can’t be real. It was some sort of trick. It had to be. Educated guesswork. She couldn’t possibly see into his soul---

“And doubt,” she pronounced, breaking away to look up at him. “I know doubt. I have felt it many times in myself, and in the souls that I have taken upon myself to heal. I have felt their anger. I have felt their hate. These things can be cancers upon the mind, but they can also be a fuel, and I am unsure what they mean to you, Zaeed.”

She clasped his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers as she searched his soul. “But there is something worse that I feel,” she said, “and this, I know, must be purged. You think you have no future, Zaeed. It is dark and bottomless in your mind. Why is that?”

This can’t be real. She nodded encouragingly at him, and he spoke. “Let’s just say I took a dangerous job.”

“And you do not expect to survive what will come?”

“This isn’t the kind of job you walk away from,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he said it, but Sha’ira had a way of making you want to tell her things. “I knew that going in.”

“And you went in nonetheless,” Sha’ira murmured, pursing her lip. “Why?”

He had no answer, and in truth, he had never asked himself the question. The money had seemed like a good reason, but no longer. She did have a point. What was the use of money if he was going to die?

“You have dealt in death for too long,” Sha’ira said, “You have lost sight of the importance of life.”

Below him, Laena stirred in the space between his outstretched thighs, massaging his cock with a scented oil pulled from somewhere in the darkness.

“Look at her, Zaeed,” Sha’ira whispered. “In the bloom of youth and filled with life. Have you forgotten what it is to be filled with life?” The aroma of the oils was quickly filling the room, mixing with the aphrodisiac atmosphere, and when Laena peeled her eyes away from the organ in her hands and met her client in the eye, Zaeed could see what Sha'ira was talking about. He could feel what he hadn't felt for decades: youth.

Laena bowed low and slipped his cock between her lips, and Zaeed's hips tensed as he felt her tongue gingerly run along his tip. Theia bent over his thigh and watched Laena go to work, running her finger along the nape of the younger girl's neck, encouraging her to go deeper still. And deeper she went, until she could fit nearly all of him in her mouth, at which point Theia grasped Laena by the top of her head and pressed her down, firmly but gently, until the tip of her nose brushed against his abdomen and her mouth was stuffed with human.

Slowly, and with a building confidence, Laena began to work his cock, squeezing balls with the fingers of one hand as the other stroked his shaft, bobbing her head up and down, using her lips and tongue to devastating effect. It was like a sponge had come to scour Zaeed's mind; as the asari sucked him off, he felt her growing excitement and it reached out across their link and into his own head, wiping away the years of tension that had built up. Laena broke away and ran her tongue along a pulsing vein, before diving back down to swallow him again. Her mouth was like a warm cloud, his meat wrapped in moist velvet, and the webs in his mind that connected him to the three aliens made him acutely sensitive in a way he'd never felt before. He felt the lust of three mix in with his own, and he realized that they were feeding him their lust, sending it through the mind-meld as they touched and stroked and sucked his skin. They were experienced professionals, and he could not resist; with no warning given to the girl with her head buried in his lap, he groaned and came for the first time that night, but not the last by far.

Laena’s struggle was quite visible. Her face grew flushed as she choked on his cock, fluids leaking out of the sides of her mouth, but she did her best to ride it out until he was spent. When she pulled her lips loose from the flesh they had just been wrapped around, there was a sound like a drain unclogging, and when she raised her head they could all see the sticky, gooey strands of semen decorating her teeth and tongue and throat. Her tongue swiveled around inside her mouth, rinsing thoroughly from side to side before swallowing as much as she could manage.

Theia attended to the remnants of Laena’s efforts, running her tongue along Zaeed’s organ to clean up the spillage as the younger girl watched, lips pursed in apprehension. Every trace of Theia’s skilled, sensuous tongue was a work of art in itself, but it was also a critique of Laena’s work; a correction of the mistakes she had made and a reminder of her greenness.

Zaeed’s cock practically glistened once Theia was done, and the asari cocked her head to the side to reassure Laena of her performance. “Good,” she said, speaking for the first time that night. Her voice was mellow and indulgent, and Laena exhaled in relief to hear it. “Room for improvement, but not a bad start.”

“How do you feel, Zaeed?” Sha’ira asked.

How he felt was difficult to put into words, but the first word that walked into his mind was younger. He felt as if decades had been shaved away, and even as he gazed down on the body of an old man, his chest felt lighter, his mind felt clearer, and he felt strong and vital. There was no mountain he couldn’t climb. No marathon he couldn’t run.

Laena was moaning as Theia fondled her from behind.

No hole he wouldn’t fuck.

“Life is rushing back to greet you,” Sha’ira said, her toned thighs straddling him. "How will you greet her?"

If Laena was a bud and Theia was a flower in bloom, Sha’ira was a full, ripe, succulent fruit, dangling before his eyes as if on a branch from a tree in paradise. Emboldened by her challenge, he pulled her close and buried his face in her breasts. She clutched his head in her hands and urged him on as he sucked her hard teats and tongued them vigorously, and he felt her shake in his grip as pleasure wracked her. His hands slipped from her hips and dug into her round buttocks, and in the next instant he had pulled her down into his lap. His cock, erect again, pistoned into her wet depths, and she gasped into his mouth as he plunged as deep as he could go.

"I'm a fast learner," he growled, pressing his teeth against her neck as she bounced up and down on his cock. "And I feel pretty damn alive right now."

“Then show me Zaeed,” she whispered, sapphire lips brushing against his as she spoke, as she rose and fell in his lap, as she pleasured the manhood sunk between her thighs. "Show me how alive you feel."

Her ripe mounds danced for his eyes, and he could feel the soft, perfect skin of her thighs in his hands as he gripped them, one of the many gifts of her people. She nipped on his lower lips, rolling her hips as she rode him, and his hands now kneaded her breasts in the oil that Laena had brought. They glimmered in what light there was, and Zaeed sucked her teats again to take in the flavor of the oil. He sucked until the Consort begged him not to stop, and past that, and when Sha'ira fell back down into his lap he grasped her by the hips and pulled her face towards his own.

She pressed her lips against his furiously and their tongues met in electric dance, and in that moment their connection was sealed. “Share your life with me.”

At her command, he spent himself, and they became as one. Hot white fluids rocketed into Sha'ira's core, her convulsing womanhood coaxing more and more out of him. It seemed that he had more to give to her than he had given to every woman he had ever had before, and it was long before he was done, and worth every credit it had cost. Seed pooled in Sha'ira's womb, the seed of a man she had saved from his own abyss, and unbeknownst to her, the seed of a man with a rachni infection in every atom of his being. It would not be apparent to her until many months later, after many clients had all shared in the womb that Zaeed's seed had dripped alien seed into, after she had spread the rachni strain to every man who would lay with her.

Sha'ira coiled up next to him on the bed, resting her head against his shoulder. He had walked in a skeptic, but he would walk out a convert; by what trick he did not know, but somehow the Consort had driven the trappings of the years from his souls, even if it was just for the night. He was not merely rejuvenated. He was resurrected. Her hand reached down and gripped his flaccid member, wet with his fluids and her own, and rubbed it in her palm until it was nearly erect. She pulled away and licked the cum off the side of her palm, and the sight of it pulled Zaeed back to rigidity near-instantly.

At the other end of the bed, Theia and Laena watched hungrily as their mistress stroked Zaeed's cock back to an erection, and Sha'ira nudged him in their direction.

"They await you, Zaeed."

Laena was sprawled across Theia's lap, and Theia's thighs were spread apart to showcase her tight, waiting pussy, inviting Zaeed to come and take what he wanted. And then Laena yelped suddenly as one of Theia's fingers slipped into her ass, a reminder that Zaeed could have that too, if he wanted.

“The night is young, and the gifts of the Goddess are many.”

NEXT: ZE DOCTOR IS IN
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The Rachni Queen