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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
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At the edge of the temperature controlled sea, tucked away in a minor cove and isolated by rocky cliffs was an unassuming, little cottage right on the beach; waves gently lapping the sand a few yards from the door. Though in truth much of the surroundings above fifteen feet were an illusion created by holograms; the entire coast lined with domes which gave the inhabitants the illusion of seclusion when in actuality they were a wall away from their neighbors. A pristine horizon projected on the monolithic wall that separated paradise from the cold, empty void beyond completed the fantasy. Those traveling down the coast however only saw a long stretch of steep mountains dotted by caves.
Once the couple popped out of the winding tunnel that connected their personal, little haven to the common areas they naturally explored their temporary abode. The single story structure didn’t have much to it, the assumption being little time would be spent there. Kitchen, den, a full bath and bedroom made up the interior, outside was a porch facing the sea and hot tub around back; extra amenities had to be specifically requested. Without weather, insects or unwanted guests to worry about the architects skipped putting glass or screens in the windows to allow the air to move freely through the dwelling.
After their short tour and spending several languished minutes standing on the beach in each other’s company they went to settle in. As soon as the zipper of the first piece of luggage was undone Samara realized she had made a grave mistake leaving the packing to Shepard. She really only had herself to blame when she couldn’t find something to wear that wasn’t sheer, short, low-cut, form-fitting or see-through. Her human would still have to be punished of course, but later, after she purchased some new clothes.
That left Shepard alone and antsy. Their walk through town had gotten her juices following and her hopes high, but rather than working up a sweat with a blue deity she was allow unpacking. After the simple chore was done she considering going for a swim, but as she took out her bathing suit she noticed the large screen in the living room. Not yet sitting, she scooped up the remote and hit the on button. Her eyes were immediately drawn to, ‘local network’. After only a couple seconds her attention was completely captured and she settled on the couch.
The Azure Sky had its own entertainment network with live feeds of varying events taking place around the station and vid library full of other guests’ kinks. Many establishments offered discounts to patrons who allowed their sessions to be recorded with the understanding that images would be altered to preserve anonymity. Thus leaving Shepard alone, horny and in front of a big screen with a near unlimited amount of porn featuring real people living out their actual fantasies. So once her shorts were unzipped she started surfing.
After filtering out unwanted content Shepard selected the first vid that sounded interesting, “First Contact”. She was momentarily disappointed by the lack of a blushing virgin, but quickly her opinion reversed and she realized how foolish her expectations were.
The scene opened on a stern woman who appeared old enough to have fought in the First Contact War, standing at attention, her silver hair pulled into a tight bun. She was dressed in an eroticize version of an Alliance officer’s uniform; a window added to her jacket to display a healthy amount of cleavage and shortened to show how tight her pants were, the look reminiscent of a less busty Benezia. To her right and a step behind was her subordinate, played by her matron bondmate, holding a datapad to her chest and dressed in a coat that was altered into a short dress that barely covered her pants-less butt. Lined up in front of the couple were three captured turian soldiers; knees in the dirt, heads slumped low and arms bound back.
“Corporal, why are these prisoners in my office?” the middle-aged human barked.
Shepard wouldn’t know the answer to that question as she tapped the fast-forward sending the five women on screen into hysterics. The dialog went on awhile without any of them even shifting their feet much. The two ‘Alliance officers’ eventually marched back and forth in front of the line of turians before they started inspecting each one individually. The whole time not a single metallic mandible so much as twitched. When the human, who was more than likely a marine at some point in her life, bent down to grab the alien on the left seemed like a good time to return everyone to normal speed.
“What’s wrong turian, never been this close to a human before?” the officer hissed as she gripped her captive’s pointed mandible.
There was no answer; the soldier exerting obvious effort to keep her mouth shut, that she failed to extend to her eyes as they flicked down to the cleavage her captor was displaying.
The subtly motion did not go unnoticed, “Something wrong, you never seen a set of tits before? Maybe you’d like to see more of them.”
“Leave her alone you old cow!” the turian officer with green markings yelled.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” the human whispered to her captivated captive.
“Of course she does!”
The woman in charge ordered her asari subordinate, “Shut that bitch up!”
“Aye aye, Commander,” the matron happily replied with a bouncy salute.
The Corporal stepped in front of the highest ranking of the three turian and undid the lowest button of her military jacket to reveal a flaccid penis, perfectly colored and textured to make it look real. With a mere thought it engorged to an imposing nine inches. There was a brief struggle as the prisoner tried to turn her head away, but inevitably the shaft was wrestled into the multifaceted mouth. Once in, the shape of the muzzle and gullet made it easy for the asari to push the fake dick in until her mound touched nose. She then grabbed the leathery scalp of her bound captive to vigorously fuck the carapace covered face.
“Now then, where were we?” the marine pulled the white marked turian’s eyes from her gagging compatriot. “Oh yes, we were discussing your interest in human anatomy. So tell me girl, would you like to get a more intimate look?”
Before the captured grunt could answer there was a clamor beside her and her attention was again diverted. She watched her superior getting dragged across the room. There was a good show of resistance, but soon the turian was slammed against the cluttered desk and her pants torn off. A few seconds later, hips aligned and she heard a low grunt as the older turian’s ass was reamed. All she could see was indigo cheeks flexing then relaxing in a steadily building rhythm until they were furiously pounding away.
“I’ll give you the choice. You can either: remain defiant and go join your superior, thereby holding on to some level of honor,” the Alliance officer turned her prisoner’s gaze to the opposite end of the room. “Or, you can go lie down on my cot and become my little, war trophy. You’ll sacrifice your honor and no longer be a soldier, but you’ll be treated so much more nicely. Plus, you’ll get to satisfy your curiosity about human physiology.”
“I’ll be your trophy,” the third of the turians finally spoke. “So long as I’m fed well and kept comfortable.”
The woman smiled then stuck a dagger in the dirt in front of the prisoner with red facial tattoos who immediately used it to free herself. She strode toward the bedding, listening to her sodomized friend break character and start moaning lustfully. Even though she wasn’t yet given the order she shed her costume uniform, then to show her submission lied down on her back, grabbed her knees and pointing her increasingly aroused folds at her new superior.
Panicked, the best actress of the three pleaded, “Wait! That’s not fair! You offered me that choice. I don’t want to bend over the desk.”
The human glanced at her occupied cot. “It looks like there is enough room for two.”
Shepard stopped the vid there, partially because everyone in the scene was veering away from their roles, but mostly out of curiosity at what else the service had to offer. She scanned through titles until she spotted, “Wonder Woman". Never one who could resist the Amazon Princess’s charms, she selected it without hesitation. Immediately a statuesque, raven-haired beauty filled the screen with bust, thighs and biceps that perfectly matched the superhero. The camera drank the powerful woman up for several minutes as she posed, flexed and preened. Once her bondmate was satisfied the cosplay was fully recorded the scene progressed when the peppy, little maiden who was living out her fantasy popped into view wearing a classic Robin costume, complete with green, cheek-hugging short-shorts. It was also when the channel changed.
Shepard had yet to forgive DC for their latest reboot. Changing the Green Lantern Corps to reflect actually alien races was obvious; Kilowog making a great krogan. Having Krypton destroyed by the Reapers in the last cycle was a neat idea. Darkseid becoming a kind of anti-hero when Apokolips was destroyed in the invasion and joining the fight to save the galaxy was surprisingly well written. The turian versions of Hawkman and Hawkgirl were starting to grow on her. Then they forced hanar into the origin of Atlantis which was convoluted at best. It was when they made the latest Robin an orphaned asari that they had gone too far. She didn’t care what anyone said, biotics were a superpower and superpowers had no place in the Batman family. Therefore she could not approve of such egregious cosplay.
The VI was already giving suggestions after only two vids, the top one titled, “The Third Galactic War”. Shepard flipped to it, but only kept half an eye on the screen as she was too busy reading the detailed back story. The couple in this one, an asari and turian, had authored the history of an alternate reality where The First Contact War didn’t end.
The Citadel Council never intervened, the Hierarchy put out false propaganda to paint humanity in a similar light as the Yahg so the salarians and asari felt it best to allow them to deal with the incident as they saw fit. The turians believed this new species too dangerous to be allowed to expand and pushed them back to their home system, planning to isolate them. The people of Earth, thinking an invasion was imminent began preparing for an all out war; this included trying to sneak ships and probes through the blockade. The one vessel to get through was a stealthy frigate named the Normandy SR-1. Shepard almost stopped there, fearing how her name would be used, but curiosity got the better of her and she read on.
The Normandy’s crew blindly flew through the galaxy hoping to find something to help them defend their home. A month into their journey they ran into an advance scout of the Migrant Fleet. The quarians sympathized with their plight and lent assistance by sharing with them the history, politics and culture of the galaxy. Then the story’s asari influence really started shining through as the heroic Commander of the ship used the information to seek a diplomatic solution and find other species who opposed the turians and Council.
Within a year the Commander built an alliance with several maligned species, promising them assistance that no one else would. The quarians would receive help reclaiming their home; the batarians and several races from the Terminus Systems would see their influence in galactic affairs increase; and the krogan would have the plague killing their children cured. Thus began The Third Galactic War.
Shepard found the alternate history quite entertaining, though she was puzzled as to why someone would write a story that more or less cast themselves as the villains. Then she looked at the screen and it became a bit clearer. Apparently she had been reading awhile because the scene had progressed quite a bit. The asari author was naked, hanging from the ceiling by the wrists being flogged by a pair of humans. Across the room her turian bondmate was bent over a cushioned bench being paddled by a large krogan female. The couple ‘forced’ to watch the other’s torture.
As a massive hit on the turian was being telegraphed Shepard switched back to the main menu, not being a fan of such extreme S/M. She skimmed through the dozen lists of titles sharing screen space. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the ‘episodic’ category and the one topping it called, “Galactic Safari”. The description explained that a group of five maidens had come up with the scenario to play out like any other fantasy, but the views quickly shot through the roof on the streaming service. The fivesome were invited back to make a sequel and then a series. At some point they gathered enough wealth to invest in the idea and build a business based on the premise which has since become a hugely popular attraction on the station.
Shepard picked an episode at random not too worried about missing plot points. It quickly became apparent this would be something of a faux documentary as the first thing she saw was a cute maiden talking directly into the camera as if she were a scientist on expedition. The frame expanded to include a campsite and four other asari dressed for warm weather with plenty of bare cleavage, mid-drifts and legs. Beyond the blue aliens was a lush jungle filled with an inordinate amount of fruit baring flora. The group could literally pick their meals from the trees and bushes.
Just as the monotony of chattering maidens grew tiresome a bellowing roar shattered the air. The group dropped what they were doing, racing into the brush in search of the cry’s source. The brief journey through the undergrowth revealed how idyllic the jungle truly was as the ground look soft enough to never require footwear, not the faintest buzz of a bug could be heard and the numerous flowering plants made the path a gorgeous tapestry of color. It was the scene beyond the foliage that was the real sight to see though.
In the clearing the five explorers came upon a pack of six turians slowly prowling in a circle around a sole elcor standing her ground; not a stitch of clothing between them. One of the predators suddenly jumped onto the quarry, but could not get a good grip and was flung off after a buck. The prey’s victory was short lived as two more ganged up on one of her legs to eliminate her base, then three more slammed into her side to knock her over. Down and not quite out she put her immense strength to bare resisting her attackers, but her complete lack of agility soon proved her undoing. She could do little more than lay there as they began to feed.
One of the predators swooped in to lift the weighty, rear leg of the toppled elcor and three of her pack mates quickly took advantage of; two from behind and another snuck in between the spread thighs. The trio of turian’s jockeyed for position to nuzzle the large, alien sex and bury their lithe tongues into the thick folds. While the duo at the other end managed to both hold the immense arms still and lick along the exotic mouth slats.
Each passing minute caused the elcor’s massive muscles to lose more and more of their strength as she succumb to the pleasure, until the pack finally was able to roll their heavy prey onto her back. Those lapping at the apex of the legs got easier access while those holding the limbs were freed to explore. One fell upon her own kind, taking advantage of the turian lying on the larger alien’s belly by fingering her excited slit. The last two sought out their own gratification; rubbing against the central ridge of the vertical lips and thick digits of a large hand, respectively.
As the scene turned into little more than a writhing pile of alien bodies Shepard’s interest waned. Not that she had anything against a nude heap, she was just drawn by the wonder of what else there could be. Her eyes were immediately drawn to an episode entitled, “First Encounter with Humanity”. She happened to check the dates and was shocked to see the vid was over twenty-five years old and the first posting date was nearly a century ago. Asari time scales could be quite incomprehensible.
The scene opened with the five maidens, starting to show the beginning signs of matron-hood, tromping through the underbrush talking about the recently discovered species from Earth. Their chat could have easily turned accidently racist considering what they were doing, but the charming group effortlessly kept everything breezy and fun. All of them had an obvious preference for females and were extremely excited there was another species that so closely resembled their own kind. The chatter ended all at once when they heard splashing, laughter and few words Shepard recognized that the asari ignored. She realized the translators were turned off to prevent any simple communications.
The wall of ferns parted to reveal a troop of humans made up of a bull and her harem of does; the narrating asari’s ignorant labels actually kind of fitting. A total of seven naked women were lounging and playing around a waterfall fed pond bordered by erosion smoothed rocks on the far side and a small, strip of sand on the near. Most were in their early twenties with long tresses reaching down to their butts. The two exceptions were an equally young, rather pale brunette with a punk look laying face down on the beach getting a massage from a blonde and what must have been the ‘bull’.
A woman well into her forties reclined on an elevated, conveniently-shaped rock padded with leaves and moss overseeing the rest; a pretty, napping girl tucked under her arm. Scars blemished much of her robust, muscular frame that was a touch soft around the middle. It seemed hair length denoted status, because hers was trimmed into a scruffy crew cut, slightly shorter than the punk on the beach. An urge most have grabbed her because she suddenly called to one of the trio playing around in the water. Shepard quickly adjusted the language settings, as she recognized the name Mala being called and thought the vid was intended to be viewed without understanding anyone but the asari explorers.
The thin, olive-skinned beauty left her playmates to answer the summons. As she crawled up on the rocks the older woman patted her meaty thigh which the girl immediately straddled with a giggle. A hand hooked the back of her neck and pulled her into a sloppy kiss as her hips started humping against the trunk of muscles. The movement of and water spraying from the newcomer roused the sleeping redhead with the wild mop of hair who was able to stretch out a little before the arm wrapped around her tightened. She had little choice but to start licking and kissing the modest boob with a suspicious lack of sag pressed to her mouth; though it was completely her decision to curl a pair of fingers into her bull’s slick sex.
Meanwhile one of the observing aliens, a baby-blue maiden with a perfect hourglass figure, thought it time to make first contact with the troop of humans. After thumbs up all around she cautiously crept out of cover. She made it a dozen steps into the clearing before being noticed by the massaging blonde who immediately alerted the completely relaxed beta-bull; Shepard guessed at the hierarchy. The slightly androgynous brunette peaked over her shoulder to see her leader occupied so took the initiative to be the welcoming party or perhaps it was a ploy to gain power. Maybe changing the language settings wasn’t such a great idea.
Her loyal, blonde doe in toe the punk girl marched right up to the alien, not a hint of insecurity in her nudity. She brazenly looked the asari up and down, eyes lingering on the ample cleavage pouring for the tight, tank top and too-small shorts that strained to keep shapely hips contained. There was a moment of dead air as neither was entirely sure how to proceed, but eventually the human decided her primitive species should be clichéd and a bit cheesy. She stepped in close and took up a blue hand to tenderly kiss in between her whispers of sweet nothings.
Even though the young asari could not understand the human’s language, which Shepard identified as French, the lovely words were having their effect. She grew increasingly flustered by the naked woman who was subtly closing the distance between them as she poured affection on the line of knuckles. When hazel eyes peered up at her through dark bangs she nearly crumbled and didn’t have the senses to notice a hand slide onto her hip. She certainly didn’t mind when the lips jumped to nibble at the nape of her neck. The pink ribbons of flesh danced up to her cheek, but got no further.
Powerfully fingers grabbed the scruff of the punk girl’s neck and roughly yanked her away from the newcomer. The beta-bull’s attempted transgression had not gone unnoticed. First claim to any new does, even blue ones, went to the alpha; anyone who had ever watched a wildlife documentary knew that. Though, in this case neither woman appeared truly angry, both having a grand old time role-playing. So with a ham-handed performance the bigger woman reasserted her dominance with a forceful kiss. The lesser female’s crotch was then cupped a second before she was spun around and sent off with a smack on the butt.
The muscle-bound human turned her sights to the alien intruder, arms crossed over her chest openly appraising every curve and dip. However, the asari’s interest stayed with the other woman, her eyes following the tight, little ass walking away. That would not do. Any doe who wandered into the alpha’s territory was hers to claim and the creature before her looked close enough to one for her to want to exercise that right. She moved to block the maiden’s eyes which rose to meet hers. Unlike her lesser she had no need for tact or seduction, just brute force.
A blue palm was presented to the leader as a greeting. That was not the body part she was interested in however and knocked the appendage aside as she surged forward. The maiden’s first instinct was to retreat, but a calloused hand quickly grabbed her crest to force a kiss while the other took hold of the luscious, alien rear. After a minute locked together the maiden started giving in and returning the embrace. Arms enclosing her were enough of a sign of consent for the horny alpha who wanted to consummate her newest doe.
If this particular scenario real the humans probably should have been confused by the concept of clothing, but the woman playing the bull didn’t care enough about petty details. She broke the kiss to put focus on disposing of the asari’s snug shorts. There was a protest, but she ignored it. Fly undone; she dropped to a knee as she yanked the bottoms to the dirt. Clutching hands blocked the immediate view of her prize, but were easily brushed aside to see the cute cleft peeking out from between full thighs. She made herself some space and buried her tongue in the folds to get her first taste, eliciting a joyous yelp.
The oral attention was little more than a tease that the maiden had yet to recover from before the world darkened a moment as her tank top was unceremoniously yanked up over her head, leaving her in just her boots. She was given no time to be embarrassed as strong hands immediately distracted by mauling her abundant chest. Lips dipped to greedily suck her hardened, dark blue nipples. The grip then slid down to envelope her bare tush and lifted her off the ground until her breast could be feasted upon without slouching.
With one more heave the alpha bull hoisted the newest member of her harem over her broad shoulder and turned toward her throne of stone by the waterfall. Wading through the pool she passed the sulking beta and took the opportunity to rub it in by turning the blue butt her way and giving it an exaggerated squeeze. They exchanged a few more rude gestures before the older woman crawled back on to her perch; having to shoo away the cuddling girls she had left there earlier. She plopped the asari down and settled over her prize, blue legs wrapping around her waist.
Shepard’s engrossment in the vid shattered when she heard a door opening behind her. Immediately she turned the vid off holding completely still, hoping not to be noticed, but the click of heels were heading straight for her; stopping by the couch. As so many caught in the act she made the fatal error of avoiding eye contact. After sizing things up for a second Samara took a few more steps, gently lifted the guilty woman’s arm and sniffed her fingers.
“You are sleeping on the couch.”
“Awww,” Shepard whined.
Leaving the room Samara threw a bone, “Enjoy your vids.”
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The Justicar's Dog of War