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The Shepard Effect	By : Agdistis Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 26147 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any of the Mass Effect Characters. I am not making money off of this fiction.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Afterlife had a pulse. The deep throb of the base music never stopped day or night. It pounded away at the senses, filling not just the ears but the whole body with an intense rhythmic pressure. The beat overrode everything. People moved to it, breathed to it, their hearts even synchronized to the music’s pulsation if they stayed in it long enough.
Aria didn’t care for poetics, but the unceasing rhythm got to her sometimes. Even the ruler of Omega could get sentimental. Once in a while.
Leaning back on her couch, she studied the being that had prompted her evanescent thought. Aria had never seen the human Spectre in person before, but believed she had had a good idea of who Shepard was from vids she had seen on the extranet. The clips had not done the Spectre justice.
The asari played with the data pad in her hands, zooming in the video image. Shepard was on screen, with the two Cerberus idiots, heading towards the Salarian’s clinic in the quarantine zone. The hidden camera network Aria had set up on Omega was extensive and it was fairly easy to keep track of the Spectre’s progress through the slums.
A group of vorcha were trying to outflank the humans, taking heavy damage but shrugging it off thanks to their physiology. It would have been easy to get distracted by the flashy firefight, but Aria focused on Shepard. Using a huge rifle, the Spectre was taking one shot after another. It was rhythmic. Squeeze of the trigger, flash of the round, vorcha dropping dead with a hole through his face.
Squeeze, flash, dead.
It was Afterlife’s pulse. From the moment Shepard had walked into the club, Aria could see she was attuned to the beat. She moved in time with it. Not led by it, though. Shepard dominated the rhythm, made it a part of her. Made the pulse her pulse.
It was a challenge. A direct challenge in Aria’s face and the human didn’t even seem aware of it. Aria had given her welcome speech; Shepard had been polite. Aria had been dismissive; Shepard had been a respectful little soldier. Aria had told Shepard not to fuck with her; Shepard was definitely fucking with her.
A Blood Pack krogan was advancing on Shepard on the screen, only meters between the two. There was no cover from the krogan except by retreat. The other two humans were pinned down elsewhere by vorcha. Aria waited expectantly for the Spectre to move. She was a damn sniper. Even if she was a giant, a sniper would run in the face of direct conflict.
Shepard stood, turned, and aimed with methodical precision. The krogan was two meters away. Squeeze, flash, the armor plate in the krogan’s shoulder was blown apart. The krogan fired his shotgun wildly, sprinting forward. Squeeze, flash, the muscle and bone that connected the krogan’s arm to his body was blown apart. The krogan slammed awkwardly into Shepard at full speed, was knocked to the side by an elbow and shoved to the ground.
Squeeze, flash, dead.
Aria couldn’t say she was truly surprised. The Spectre wouldn’t be a threat if a krogan could balk her. Aria smirked and signaled her guards to leave her presence. Shepard was certainly interesting.
She had heard about the Spectre’s particular genetics through her information broker contacts. The details were not as specific as she would have liked, but Aria knew enough. The doubled sexual nature of the human was an intriguing prospect. The massive sniper rifle was probably compensation, though. Aria had known humans who did that. Turians and krogan, too.
With a press of a button Aria signaled one of her asari dancers to enter. She was a young thing, pliant but skilled. Aria didn’t take her eyes of the screen in her hand as the dancer kneeled between her legs and began removing her pants.
The Spectre was firing on some Blue Suns now. It wasn’t even really a fight. Three pulses deep in the body, three bodies splattered on the ground.
Aria leaned back and spread her knees a little wider as the dancer began licking her pussy, skillfully digging into her and sex. The little blue thing had been eager to please and had not bothered pulling Aria’s boots off first, instead bunching the black leather around Aria’s calves. She approved of the enthusiasm, but the dancer would have to be punished for being sloppy. Aria made a mental note then thrust her crotch further into the asari’s face.
Shepard was fighting Blood Pack again. The vermin were without rhythm, thrashing violently on the screen, both in combat and in death throes. But Shepard forced the beat onto them. Made them run or made them die to the pulse of her rifle.
Aria breathed heavily through her nose. The dancer was getting better every day, nimble tongue slipping and sliding in concentrated effort. She drank Aria’s accumulating juices, sucking strongly at times. Aria involuntarily bucked as one of the dancer’s suckles coincided with a headshot delivered by Shepard to a vorcha.
Taking more control of the situation, Aria lifted her legs up and set them down on the dancer’s shoulders. Aria used the bunched leather around her ankles to her advantage, using it to pull the little asari tight against her body. Juices started dribbling down her chin as the dancer rhythmically thrust her tongue into Aria. Shepard squeezed the trigger, the dancer jabbed as far as she could reach, and Aria grunted in pleasure.
Aria started to gyrate with the pulse of the music. Each time Shepard took a shot, she thrust her hips at the dancer’s face, legs pulling her in closer. The Spectre was nearing the clinic, only a small horde of hostiles in the way. Shepard ducked a rocket and Aria grabbed the frill of the asari in one hand, grinding her mouth against her. The dancer obediently sucked and thrust in time with Afterlife.
Shepard squeezed the trigger, Aria pulsed harder.
The beat was steady, strong and loud. It filled Aria up and made her cunt twitch in rhythm. She pushed the dancer’s face harder against her pussy, squeezing her head tight between her thighs. The pulse got louder, hotter, deeper. Aria could hear the blood in her ears, drowning out all sound, throbbing in time with Afterlife’s music. Omega’s music.
Aria came, clenching teeth straining against all vocalization, letting slip only a muffled moan. Her eyes never left the screen as Shepard rose from her crouched position, a final krogan collapsing in front of the doorway to the clinic.
Aria relaxed her position a bit as she came down from her climax. The Spectre disappeared from view, Aria’s camera network not extending into the crazy salarian’s small patch of territory. She relaxed her legs and the asari dancer gulped for air before jumping to the task of making Aria clean.
Setting the pad down, Aria threw her head and arms back and settled in to wait. She let the pulse of Afterlife thrum through her, timing the smaller asari’s languid licking of her sex to the rhythm. It could be a while before the Spectre was back in the music, but aria was patient. When she needed to be.
Mind always on point, she made a mental note of possibilities and decided to make a few purchases in preparation for the next time Shepard came by. Aria smiled and started to thrust her hips again, the beat never ending.
There was no way Aria would let Shepard to fuck with her, there was only enough room in Omega for one person to dominate the rhythm. No, Shepard could not be allowed to fuck with Aria.
But Aria would definitely fuck with Shepard.
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The Shepard Effect