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The Justicar's Dog of War	By : Doirly_No Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 55026 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Despite her promise to herself the Shadow Broker retreated to her lair a day early than a week wanting to begin considering the proposition that would deeply affect the rest of her life, as well as the entire galaxy. Having it hang over her head proved too distracting to enjoy anything else. After a brief stop in port to drop off Liara the pair of vigilantes returned to their work which started with some research, planning and decrypting. All of which involved less explosions than Shepard would have liked so she focused on doing some maintenance on their arsenal and ship, though the newly installed VIs cut down on the time needed significantly.
In just a couple hours Shepard ran out of things she had to do, so she turned to hobbies. Her first choice was impossible for a little while at least; Samara was working. So instead she pitted her dwarf templar against the resurrected Witch Queen. Twenty minutes into the epic battle her mind drifted long enough for a fireball to fry her virtual avatar, but she persevered through the wipe and saw the villain’s defeat. As soon as she looted the body, gaining a nice ring with a warding effect, her thoughts began to wander toward the cockpit again. For a little while she resisted and tried to think of something else to do, nothing got any traction.
Shepard stewed on the couch several minutes; her spine curled forward, heel tapping on the floor, fingers fiddling with the d-ring of her collar. It had been so long since her owner had touched her and even though she had given Liara a very sweaty goodbye earlier that day, she still had a burning need. Just going to the cockpit and asking for what she desired would end in rejection though, it would be against the unwritten rules that she’d been clobbered by one too many times. Only Samara could initiate unless there was some other reason or pretense, like her getting rewarded, but their last mission was too long ago for that.
Before coming up with a solid idea Shepard’s feet were already taking her in the direction of the kitchen, hoping it time for Samara to take a break. She could plan, strategize and scheme better than any in the heat of battle, but once the hormones started flowing she became an idiot. Before the end of the war and that light in the crucible she had never had this problem, for some reason she wasn’t bothered by it though. None of that mattered at the moment, right now she had to come up with a rationale to get her favorite matriarch to ravish her. Still absentmindedly playing with her collar the pet human marched down the narrow hallway lined with lockers trying to think up a ploy. When her boot touched the cockpit’s flooring she mustered the brainpower to find one, though not enough to realize how lame it was.
“How’s the decrypting going, ma’am?” Shepard asked honestly curious, saving lives was still her number one priority after all.
“Slowly,” Samara answered without peeling her eyes from her screen.
“Have you found anything at all?”
“Names, a great many names,” the matriarch sighed as she collapsed back into her chair, her armor making it difficult to get too comfortable. “I have yet to find a context, so what they mean is anyone’s guess at this point.”
“Well, if my name is on it, it probably isn’t a good list to be on,” Shepard sort of joked, but actually meant.
“Good point, I will add Normandy crew lists to the filter,” and the command was quickly made.
Shepard opened her own omni-tool. “Here are a few other things that may help: alliance personal, Spectre most wanted, politicians suspected of criminal activity.”
“Still nothing, but the decryption is not complete so we will have to wait for the program to finish before any action can be taken.” After feeling the antsy energy radiating off her pet build for a few seconds Samara asked, “Is curiosity in the decryption’s progress the only reason for your presence?”
“Oh!” the human exclaimed as if the question came out of left field. “I just wanted to let you know if you need me I’ll be in the shower.”
The matriarch humored the transparent intent of the little notification, “Very well, but I should be fine.”
“Oh, okay.” Shepard started backpedaling out of the room. “I may be in there awhile, in case you need me later.”
“No, the information you’ve provided should keep me busy for a few hours,” she lied; the decryption would run unassisted for some time. “Is there anything else?”
“I guess not,” the visibly disappointed human sighed.
It took a fair amount of restraint not to chuckle at the deflated woman shuffling out of the cockpit. For all the skills Shepard possessed and competence she’s demonstrated Samara at times couldn’t fathom how dense and childish she could be. The matriarch’s leading theory was conscious ignorance; though she worried there was some form of PTSD at play. Not that she’d seen any other evidence, which was surprising given all the galactic hero had been through. Perhaps the mighty Commander was just that strong.
Samara set the VIs about their tasks with little rush; she didn’t want to mess up the timing of her ambush. Once done she stood and sauntered down the hall then through the kitchen and den. Calling upon some of the skills required in hunting criminals she silenced her steps and carefully peeked around the bulkhead. Seeing the toned back, firm buttocks and mess of hair of her query she made an immediate approach. She stealthily rushed into the shower stall, catching her pet completely off guard. She harshly grabbed Shepard’s throat just above the collar, pulling the woman’s spine up straight and back into her unyielding armor. Her other hand molested a soft breast uncomfortably.
The matriarch hissed into her human’s ear, “I can smell the stench of the Shadow Broker’s azure all over you.”
“I…” was all Shepard could stutter out before teeth sunk into the base of her neck and her words became a prolonged groan.
“Do not forget who owns you human,” Samara growled as her mouth moved to nibble an earlobe.
“Never, ma’am.”
“That is hard to believe considering how often you opened this…” the owner sharply slapped then roughly fondled her pet’s sex. “…for any asari that smiles at you.”
“I’m sorry!” Shepard cried and trembled.
The matriarch broke character with a chuckle and held up her wet hand, “Already, love?”
“Well it’s been awhile since you’ve touched me,” the human panted, leaning into the hard-suit clad asari. “I can keep going though.”
“I was not intending to give you a choice in the matter,” she huskily whispered directly into the protruding earlobe.
In a deft motion Samara spun her pet around like a dance partner, and then swiftly hooked the jingling d-ring to ensure perfect posture wouldn’t be sacrificed for more than an instant. Before anything else there was one piece of business that had to be taken care of. She tugged Shepard into smoldering kiss, her free hand falling to take a possessive grip of a hip. Strong arms rose to rest on her shoulders as she devoured her human’s mouth. With all the enjoyment she was extracting from the yielding lips she probably could have remained like that for quite awhile and even considered doing so if only to tease the always amorous woman. Then again, she had more ambitious plans in mind.
Once the asari was through with the kiss she stepped away, human lips attempted to follow but a jerk to the collar corrected that transgression. She guided Shepard to under the showerhead mounted to the ceiling and left the naked woman there as she backed out of the stall. Not betraying any emotion Samara tossed her pet the soap before turning to the bathroom control panel nearby.
“You will need to wash that other asari’s filth from your body before I will consider touching it further.” Samara slapped the panel and a shriek tore through the ship.
Frigid water stung Shepard’s skin like a torrent of needles. Immediately her natural reflexes to guard against freezing took over as her body tried to curl up. Already shivering she looked to her owner who returned a raised eyebrow and expectant glare. Needing no further instruction she began rubbing the soap over her increasingly goose-pimpled skin as quickly as possible. Normally if Samara were to watch her bathe she’d make a show of it, but this wasn’t normal and she quickly bent over. She rushed through lathering herself from ankle to thigh as the ice-cold cascade pounded her back.
“Wash between your legs well; I saw how much time that maiden spent down there.”
Shepard gave a jerky, little nod unable to get words past her chattering teeth. Immediately she began vigorously scrubbing her crotch, from her mound all the way to her rear entry. Whether she thoroughly cleaned the area or not she couldn’t tell, she was starting to go numb. Her hands then returned to climbing her body and lathering her tightening skin. Once the soap had done a lap around her neck the water was finally reduced down to a trickle. The shivering didn’t stop as quickly so she didn’t notice her owner had closed the distance between them right away. Before she could really regain her senses a soft slap to the check straightened them.
“Now your face,” Samara stated.
“Ye-e-essss, ma… ma’am,” Shepard stuttered before using the bar of soap to build up a lather.
“That is good enough,” the matriarch commented.
As soon as the pruned hands lowered Samara threw a glass of water in the human’s face to rinse it off, inducing a series of coughs. She then placed the plastic cup by the sink in order to firmly hook the dangling d-ring and pull her still dazed pet within a hairsbreadth. Her attention went to the light bruise her teeth had made. After placing a feathery kiss to the discolored spot of skin she ran her nostrils along the human’s shoulders, inhaling deeply. Satisfied with the smell her head dipped as her free hand lifted a firmer than usual breast to sniff and couldn’t help flicking her tongue over the ice hard nipple.
Samara then yanked the collar to the side a tad to study the back of her pet’s body as if there would be visible evidence of the liaisons with Liara. Slowly she dragged her nails along the shivering spine, gathering cold droplets along the way down to the lovely, meaty rump. The skin had yet to warm and the muscle beneath was still tense making them firmer than usual. After a few pats she palmed one of the cheeks, weighing and squeezing it awhile before moving on to her true goal. With only the leftover beads of water and residue from the suds as lubrication she pressed a digit to an extremely puckered, little hole; a strained grunt accompanying the anal penetration.
The probing didn’t last long, but did reach deep as Samara wasn’t satisfied until her knuckles met the firm flesh of her human’s backside. After a twirl and a twitch she withdrew her probe and straightened Shepard up again. She made a show of sniffing her fingers before returning them to her pet’s nethers. The affects of the cold shower were still evident in the lack of a reaction, as even the mention of a touch from her asari owner would be enough to get the juices flowing usually. So rather than force her way inside, the matriarch decided to just run a nail along the outer lips.
After giving exaggerated licks to her fingers Samara commented, “At least the maiden’s scent is no longer overpowering. I guess the only way to truly be rid of it is to thoroughly mark you with my own.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Shepard meekly replied, full recovery close at hand.
“Perhaps I spoke too soon,” the asari said with a cringe. “Your breath is drenched with her stench.”
“I’ll brush my teeth.”
“That will not do.” Samara snatched the bar of soap and then raised it to her pet’s lips. “Now open.”
Shepard’s eyes widened, the frigid fog hanging over her head finally clearing, perhaps a little too soon. Sucking a bar of soap would be far easier if she didn’t have to think about it. Though, she knew she didn’t truly have to do it, there were a number of words and gestures she could use to let her owner know this was an act she wouldn’t do. Not that she really considered it; she had put worst things in her mouth, most of them from the Normandy mess hall.
When the human’s lips obediently parted Samara slipped the teal bar past them, but warned, “Do not suck, love.”
Thankfully for Shepard the soap was only slid in and out of her mouth twice before it was extracted. Samara then closed; flaring her nostrils an inch from the human’s gapping lips. Satisfied with the scent she gave a terse nod and pulled her pet along to the sink where she refilled the cup with water to help the woman rinse out any residual taste. As soon as the glass lowered the matriarch surged forward to engage a passionate kiss.
The lip lock went a long way to warming Shepard up, especially since blue hands were far busier this time. Rather than using the collar to hold her in place, fingers laced through her hair and scratched her back. The hard, red Justicar armor had no give the edges dug into her flesh. Luckily she had excellent distractions penetrating her mouth, clawing her shoulders and stretching her scalp.
Samara broke the kiss suddenly to sternly order, “Follow.”
Bare, wet feet fell into line behind the tapping heels of the matriarch’s boots as she marched through the den. Apparently Shepard wouldn’t be allowed the time to towel herself off, even though she would have made an excellent show out of it. She wasn’t about to complain, she would much rather put on a performance in bed anyway and hopefully get warmed up enough to cease the chills racing through her body.
Samara stopped at the bedside and turned to once again gain control of her human through use of the collar. Thinking another kiss was coming Shepard started to lean in, but the asari superior gave a downward yank. Once her pet knelt at her feet the matriarch combed the damp hair with one set of fingers as the other reached up to one of her pauldron. After a few flicks it fell to the ground, followed shortly by its pair, the lowly woman tracked the few sporadic bounces each made.
When the second piece of armor came to a rest Shepard’s gaze rose to watch what the elegant, blue fingers would do next but was instead enraptured by the crystal eyes staring down at her. So trapped was she that she didn’t notice the hand leave her hair or what it did with its new freedom. She could not tear herself from trying to decipher what Samara’s thin grin meant; swearing she could see some pent-up desire in the elder asari’s expression. What finally stole her attention away was nearing crimson.
Every seam, seal and clasp holding together the Justicar’s armor had been undone so a tap on the shoulders from Samara’s thumbs knocked it loose. However, not as much blue was revealed as Shepard would have expected. The red of the suit had been segregated from the black so only the central piece fell away. Through means the human couldn’t guess at, or care about, the composite limbs stayed in place to cover wrist to shoulder as well as hip to toe; the hard and straight so perfectly framing the soft and curved.
Shepard’s eyes quickly fell to that which lay at their level and she couldn’t help but smile as she confirmed her owner’s moist desire. A cleared throat reminded her she had respects to pay. She eagerly leaned forward to first wet the bridge of her nose and then nuzzle the purple folds before planting a light kiss on the gorgeous azure. Usually a single peck was all that was expected but a hand placed on the back of her head kept her from moving away. So she happily continued snuggling the lower lips with the occasional tongue flick.
Shepard could remain quiet no longer, “I missed you so much, ma’am.”
“I was seated right over there the entire time,” Samara said with a slight nod toward where she had been bound for the past several days.
“But we didn’t get to talk or touch nearly enough,” the woman somehow speaking with an occupied mouth.
“Touch?” the matriarch asked with a hint of bemusement. “Was one insatiable, asari maiden not enough for you?”
“I rather have one insatiable, asari matriarch.” After slowly dragging her tongue the entire length of her owner’s slit Shepard mumbled, “Your pussy is the best, ma’am.”
“My what?” Samara asked coldly, falling back into her role.
“Uhhh…” it seemed she had misspoken. “I mean your…”
Before anything further could be sputtered out the partly armored alien shoved her pet away. Samara didn’t let the human settle for too long, for as soon as cheeks hit flooring biotic energy flared, flipping Shepard through the air and onto the bed, head dangling off the edge. Again she didn’t wait and near immediately retook her grip of the hair to pull the submissive woman up into the position she desired; on all fours facing her.
“I believe you require an anatomy lesson. For you see, these are my breasts.” Samara dragged the woman’s face back and forth across her full chest slowly a few times; then with a swift, hard slapped grabbed her pet’s bust. “And these are my tits.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Shepard responded out of habit more than anything.
“This is my bottom.” The matriarch turned to force her obedient human’s lips against a blue cheek; then just as before in a sudden movement spun to harshly smack and dig her nails into terrestrial flesh. “This is my ass.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she groaned, her face pressed to the mattress.
“And finally, this is my superior, asari azure.” Samara rubbed Shepard’s nose in her sensitive cleft before straightening the human up and taking a rough hold between the legs. “While this is my inferior, human cunt.”
“Yes, ma’am!” the woman’s next orgasm already building.
“Now then, I wish to use my ass.” The matriarch cast her pet aside to retrieve the nearby bottle of lube, then tossed it over and ordered, “Prepare it for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Shepard popped the cap as she turned around, figuring her owner would want to watch. After placing a moderate blob in a palm she resealed and discarded the bottle. She dropped to an elbow and arched her back to best present her rear. Her cupped hand then headed back as she gathered her nerve, not worried or afraid, it was just really awkward and still a bit embarrassing. So with some care she swiftly got the lubrication to her ass, succeeding in not spilling any until it started running down to drip from her nethers onto the sheets. Taking a deep breath the collared human pushed at her tight hole. She had to put effort into relaxing enough to penetrate her anus with a single finger, but the second was easier to get in after a few pumps from the first.
Before her pet could attempt to get a third digit past her sphincter Samara stepped in, promptly knocking the woman’s hand out of the way. Having no intention of climbing onto the mattress the matriarch grabbed the human by the hips and pulled them closer to the edge. She prevented Shepard from looking back over a shoulder with a handful of hair. Entirely in control she flopped the partially-limp, neon-green strap-on she had chosen onto the well oiled ass spread out for her.
“Do you feel that?” Samara used her hand to press the head of her toy against the small of the submissive woman’s back. “That is how deeply you will be penetrated.”
Shepard’s eyes widened to saucers as she felt the thickness of the shaft cradled between her cheeks and length touching far too many vertebrae. The fake dick stiffened under direction from Samara and straightened causing the end to lift away, but only briefly before it was dragged at a snail’s pace down her rear crevice. The hand gripping her hair forced her to rock forward enough to allow the room needed to line up the green monster with her well-prepared but under-experienced anus. With a little pressure the tip broke through the boundary, stretching her to near what she thought her limit was. A long held breath escaped a bit too soon, for the second after the human’s lungs emptied she realized the head had yet to fully find its way in.
“Oh shit,” Shepard grunted as the elasticity of her ass was put to the test.
Samara pulled her pet back onto her toy, rather than push it in, with little concern about causing injury. It might hurt, but the odds of serious, permanent damage were almost nonexistent. With a last surge she was able to get the ridge of the head past the threshold. That didn’t mean she was going to let up and continued the languishing impalement with a single, smooth motion. Each inch that disappeared caused more muscles to strain against the human’s skin and she did not stop until she could no longer see green.
“How does it feel?”
Shepard lied through gritted teeth, “Good.”
“That did not sound sincere,” Samara chided, grinding the sodomized posterior.
“It feels good, ma’am,” she grunted.
“What does?”
With the edges of the matriarch’s armor digging into her behind, the former commander growled, “Having my ass so deeply fucked feels amazing, ma’am.”
“Whose ass?” Samara asked as she still desired to prove her dominance over the human.
Despite the pain Shepard mustered, “Yours, the ass getting fucked is yours.”
Satisfied, Samara shoved her pet’s face into the mattress before shifting her grip to the curve of Shepard’s hips. For a few seconds she tried pulling their pelvises even more tightly together and was able to get the base of her strap-on to meet skin. She pulled out slowly until the lip of the head tugged at the human’s anus, but the sluggish pace lasted no longer than the one stroke. Being mindful of any resistance the asari slid the long shaft back in as quickly as she could to re-hilt every inch in the warm orifice. She wasn’t going to be the one doing all the work however and used her hand holds to force the bent over woman to fuck back, building into an upbeat tempo.
Even though Shepard was doing as was demanded and throwing her weight on to the shaft so her butt met the matriarch’s trim hips with a resounding clap, she was not enjoying it. No, she was enduring. Having her ass so stretched, so filled was past uncomfortable and downright painful. Her fists were so tightly clenched the knuckles turned pale enough to blend in with the white sheets. The only thing preventing her from biting a hole through the cloth was the obscenities streaming out of her mouth.
The minutes mounted and the former commander’s limit neared. Never before had Shepard wanted sex to end, if fact the only times she didn’t want more was when she passed out. Getting pounded in the rear by what must have been almost a foot of plastic dick was excruciating. The relentless rhythm grew increasingly unbearable with each harsh penetration, but she would not say ‘teddy bear’, for as much as Samara wanted to prove her dominance, Shepard wanted to show her submission more. Then as she teetered on her breaking point the cock was buried as deeply as possible and a new sensation spread inside her.
The sodomized woman threw her head back to shriek, protest or question; she hadn’t decided before she was pushed back down by the weight of Samara’s body. The ancient asari collapsed on top of her, keeping the cock right where it was, satisfied her claim of ownership absolute. Having the glorious, pillowy breasts of her owner pressed to her back was nice; the edges of the armored limbs digging into her were not. Just as she readied to voice a complaint a lick and nibble to her ear stopped her. She went entirely flat with a sigh, cheek resting on the mattress while the opposite ear got played with by a talented mouth.
So rather than a gripe Shepard mumbled, “What just happened in my ass?”
Taking a brief moment away from toying Samara answered with a whisper, “I came.”
“You…” was all the blushing woman got out.
Overjoyed to see an adorable red tint on her pet’s cheeks the asari clarified, “It is an extra feature of my added appendage. What I just injected into you was a healing salve.”
“So I won’t have a sore butt tomorrow?”
“I was more concerned with keeping you nice and tight,” Samara joked.
“My mistake,” Shepard chuckled. “Can you take it out now?”
“Give it a minute, let the salve work,” and she went back to chewing an earlobe.
“Wouldn’t it work better without the large dildo in the way?” The woman shifted her hips trying for some comfort.
“Perhaps, but I am quite content where I am and like how you squeeze my little toy.”
“Little?” Shepard scoffed. “Does that mean you turned on the neural feedback?”
“I did…” Any further pillow talk was cut short be a chiming omni-tool which Samara immediately checked. “It appears your name, as well as mine and a number of the other Normandy crew have indeed shown up on the list. This is a hit list, by tomorrow we should have all the details. Perhaps I should go see if I can expedite the process.”
“What!?” the trapped woman exclaimed. “All I get is tortured in the shower and have my butt reamed.”
“Actually it is my ‘butt’,” the matriarch teased. “Are you saying I should put off a task that could very well save a number of lives?”
“Of course not,” Shepard answered as the weight lifted from her back and shaft slipped from her rear.
Disappointment practically radiated from the defeated infiltrator who lay in a lump on the bed, her anus remaining quite dilated. She was so despondent she failed to notice the light chuckles from the asari or the thuds of armor hitting the flooring, rather than the snaps of seals being reengaged. The pet’s face turned the wrong way; a fully nude Samara was able to saunter toward the head of the bed unseen. Only when the blue body made the mattress sag did Shepard’s head pop up. The sight of her wondrous owner reclining against the wall, legs provocatively spread sent a quiver through her.
“I suppose there really is not much I can do to help the VI, but I will still require some persuasion not to go make sure.”
For a moment Shepard was hypnotized by the elegant fingers brushing along the thin strip of skin that separated labia from leg. Her eyes rose a little ways to the hand-filling breast being gently cradled. After watching the lazy groping for half a minute her brain kicked back in with one thought; I want. In a flash of awkward scrambling she stumbled, face first into the junction of the splayed thighs. Her momentum halted by her lips meeting her favorite azure. As she settled on her belly to worship she gave solid, smacking smooches to the alien’s sex.
The pet human brought both hands to bear along with her lapping tongue; lining up four fingers on either side of the wet slit to spread it open, leaving no room for Samara’s. The dislodged digits didn’t travel far finding a new home lost in damp locks. The new point of contact spurred the woman pleasuring her to look up to make eye contact. The matriarch moaned through a thin lipped smile and gave a little thrust of the hips to show her approval which inspired greater vigor from the feasting woman.
Shepard dug through the purple folds with her expert pink appendage trying to find the limits of the depths she could reach. Once she could delve no further her focus shifted to nudging the sensitive nub higher up. After several flicks of the tongue her lips enclosed the engorged clitoris to be lovingly sucked and nibbled. Many a time had she been in the same position, orally servicing her owner and never did it get old. She couldn’t imagine every being tired of the silky smooth flesh, heavenly scent or exquisite flavor and whenever she could wring an excited moan from the stoic asari it felt like the greatest of victories. Before she could finish however, her collar was hooked and she was pulled away.
Samara ignored the initial confused look on her human’s face knowing all would be clear in a moment. As she sat up her hand drifted to Shepard’s rump to get the woman into her lap. Their lips mashed together at the earliest opportunity, the taste of the matriarch’s azure passing between them. Almost immediately she felt a slick pussy humping against her stomach which she wholeheartedly encouraged. Digging her fingers into a meaty ass cheek and wrapping an arm around a sweat drenched back she attempted to fuse their bodies together as she succeeded in fusing their souls. Their minds melded into one.
Hours ticked by with the pair joining, through heated embraces and cooler moments of rest. Neither was willing to venture out of the other’s reach or any further than the edge of the bed. The reassuring presence of the one they loved most comfortingly wrapping around them as their bodies entwined. The meld only broke when they were too exhausted to move and collapsed in a heap; Samara on her back with her pet on top using her chest as a pillow.
Shepard sighed, “Have I mentioned how much I love you lately, ma’am?”
“You may have yelled it a few times,” Samara chuckled, stroking the human’s hair and back.
“Just making sure,” punctuated with a kiss to a blue breast.
“I had hoped you sated by now,” the tired matriarch a tad concerned over a renewal of actives.
“I am,” Shepard hummed. “Doesn’t make me less affectionate.”
With a deepening smile she asked, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Well, if you’re open to suggestions, I have a list.”
- 18
- 19
- 20
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The Justicar's Dog of War