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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
- 35
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- 37
A single harsh spotlight directly overhead cast the rest of the featureless room into an utter blackness that was impossible for the eyes of the soul at its center to penetrate. The walls could have been yards or miles away. Under bare feet was unforgiving marble. Nothing about the space was kind or inviting, only cold and imposing. Yet the lone occupant in the stark dungeon stood tall, chin high, heels together, posture perfect and expression stoic. Despite every inch of her blue skin being on display her stance was the same as always, with her spine straight, her hands clasped behind the back and her chest thrust out. Samara had nothing to fear and nothing to be ashamed of.
The nude matriarch was left to wait for almost half an hour, an attempt to build tension that would have probably work on just about anyone besides a veteran Justicar. It had worked on a maiden earlier that week. So her posture hadn't waned in the slightest by the time she was finally joined. She couldn't see the entrance of the newcomer, only hear the brief whoosh of a door opening then closing, without a pause between. A brief moment past before she heard the distinct click of heels behind her as they began to leisurely stroll around the periphery of the room.
A third of the way through the circuit her unseen adversary finally spoke, "Justicar Samara, it's an honor to finally meet you in the flesh, so to speak. You have been quite the thorn in my side for far too long. I can't count the amount of credits, men and merchandise I've lost to your vigilantism; your foolish ideals of justice. Did you really believe you could topple my organization?"
The stoic asari didn't flinch just continued to silently stare forward, though it was her ears and the tap of heels on marble that informed her that her captor was passing through her line of sight.
Once it became obvious there would be no answer the villainous monologuing resumed, "I'll take that as a yes and that you're too humiliated by your failure to admit it. And that is what you are, a failure. You failed your code. You failed every little, blue child who ever looked up to the Justicars as heroes. And you failed that T'Soni girl you tried to save, but now will spend the rest of her life on her knees in front of Aria T'Loak's couch, because you couldn't recognize the trap I had set for you. Must be slowing down in your old age, huh? At least your species don't lose their looks while on the down slope of life. Otherwise I'd have no use for you and your blue ass would already be spaced."
"Look is all you will do," Samara hoped to goad some aggression from the woman hiding in the shadows. "If you believe we will ever share even a moment of intimacy you are delusional."
"Is that right?" there was a definite stutter in both step and voice that had to be recovered from. "I don't need intimacy from you. All I need is your body at my fingertips, tongue in my cunt and lips at my teat."
If she weren't purposely keeping her expression blank the reference to how asari show submission would have elicited a smile from the prisoner, "So you have some experience with my race?"
The heels completed their lap around the room before a boastful reply, "Plenty, not that it's much of a challenge to bed one of your kind and all of them begged to suck my tits. Eventually I got curious and asked why. The matron I was with at the time was barely able to keep her mouth off me long enough to explain how suckling is the ultimate show of submission for an asari and here I thought tearing their asses apart with my strap-on was enough. Not that your butt won't get a good reaming, just now I know to make you plead me to nurse you like a mewling infant afterward."
The idea of begging to commit such deviant acts sent a tingle through Samara's core, yet her response was, "I am hardly concerned about the threats of a child so insecure she feels the need to, as you humans say, notch her bedpost."
An offhanded comment made a month ago gets thrown back in Shepard's face. After the initial encounters with Liara on Illium she had joked about tracking down the rest of the female crew to get a few more notches on her bedpost. Samara then forced her to explain what she meant in embarrassing detail; everything from the origin of the phrase to why sleeping with so many women would be considered some sort of accomplishment to any lingering attractions she may have felt toward her former comrades. For a supposed champion of justice, the old asari could play some rather cruel pranks and touching upon that memory was an attempt to dredge up some of that emotion. Maybe incite a bit of revenge.
As Shepard took her first step out of the shadows directly behind the matriarch the last thing on her mind was any plans of getting even. Once she was out in the light she could no longer keep her gaze away from her goddess and on the script she had put together. She knew she wouldn't be able to come up with vulgar things to say to Samara on the fly, especially if she had to look at her owner while doing so. It was difficult for her to even read her cheat sheet aloud with the slightest bit of blue in her periphery so she spent her entire lap around the room with her eyes glued to the scribbles she made beforehand. Out in the open though, that crutch was gone, along with quite a bit of her words' venom.
The faux criminal slid up behind her prisoner and cupped a tight, blue cheek, "I may come out ahead in this deal. I have to imagine a matriarch is worth more than a few shipments of drugs and contraband."
The lightly scaled skin the woman idolized provided a good enough distraction to stop her from over thinking the situation, especially since it belonged to a body part she rarely got a chance to fondle. She gently rubbed and massaged the sublime buttock, unconsciously waiting to be told to stop. It took half a minute for it to occur to her that she was in charge and could take whatever liberties she wished. So, she centered herself behind the gorgeous, old alien in order to fill both palms. Before the groping could begin she had to get the matriarch's still clasped hands out of the way. Not terribly concerned with subtly she grabbed both her captive's wrists and placed them atop the head. With access unfettered she grabbed both buttocks.
Samara wasn't about to complain about the attention being paid to her ass, but she wasn't about to compliment it either. The hands exploring her rear were far too tender. Her captor should have been giving her stinging slaps, harsh gropes and at least threatening to invade her puckered hole. Instead she was being lovingly patted, gently massaged and every digit seemed frightened to venture anywhere near her rim. Then after a couple minutes fingers began to wander and the human pressed against her back in order to reach around to grab the delights of her front. It was very sweet and she did adore the girl, but it wasn't what she was looking for.
As her chest was enveloped by ten strong fingers the matriarch commented, "Quite the criminal operation you have if the worth of all those shipments I destroyed equates to a cheap feel."
The hands disappeared, but the hot breath in her ear remained to say, a bit too defensively, "I was just checking the merchandise."
Shepard immediately kicked herself for sounding like Liara with such a cliché line. Taking a step back she puffed up her chest and gathered her second wind. She had to do better, not be so selfish. This was Samara's fantasy and for it she had to be a gang leader looking to enslave this powerful matriarch she just captured. After too many experiences with actual slaves and slavers she loathed associating that word with their relationship, but she had to adopt the harsher nature of the character she was trying to portray. One last exhale was squeezed from her lungs before she adopted a measured pace to get around to the front of her prisoner.
When the first hints of movement entered Samara's periphery centuries of discipline was challenged. She wasn't privy to the costume the human had selected for the scenario so was more than a little curious what had been selected. Unwilling to add so much as a single degree to her straight forward stare she could only tell there was a fair amount of black involved. A clear view would be delayed as her captor stopped at her side, standing inconsiderately close. Then to her surprise a harsh hand slapped her mons then headed south to roughly root around in her crotch. Her labia was tightly squeezed and manipulated before a pair of fingers slipped inside.
Shepard was disappointed by the lack of moisture, but didn't let on, "Very nice. I was half expecting to find cobwebs in your old snatch, but no it's nice and warm and tight. I'm going to have a lot of fun with it."
"I doubt you know what to do with it."
"Sure I do," her confidence grew and her nose closed to within an inch of the matriarch's cheek. "I can pound it with my cock when I'm horny; fill it with my fist when I'm pissed; finger it when I'm bored; show it off when I have guests; or make you rub it against my leg when I need a laugh."
"You will never be able to force me to do anything."
"Oh? Is that right?" Shepard mocked as she began to pull away.
The hand left Samara's crotch and the human almost stepped back, but before doing so reached back in to drag a hot, wet tongue up the matriarch's exposed armpit. The surprisingly pleasant sensation caught the asari off guard and nearly got a reaction from her. She held firm, denying her captor even a minor victory. Though, if she had it likely would have gone unnoticed as Shepard didn't linger after the lick rather turning to walk out in front of her, taking a few more steps than necessary. So the first good look she got at her tormentor's outfit was as it sauntered away; not a bad angle to have. The view was especially superb as the woman had chosen to wear a pair of black leather chaps over blue pants so tight she'd swear the perfectly framed ass belonged to a member of her own race if not for the bare flesh just above the low riding belt.
At the other end it was hard to tell where the chaps ended and the boots began, but what Samara could tell was the heels were as high as the woman could manage without falling over. The beautifully matured asari's focus shot upward, without moving her crystal eyes, as soon as Shepard began to turn. How low the bottoms were truly riding only became apparent when the spin was complete; the belt buckle must have been rubbing parts of the human's vulva. Above the clasps it was nothing but an expanse of bare skin until a slender strap just under lifted breasts then it was back to full coverage. The mostly leather outfit elongated the rippling midriff of the soldier to the maximum; even more than Liara's little, coed costume did a couple days earlier. Plus, unlike the maiden's soft belly and trim waist there was a hardened pack of defined abs with a v-shaped ridge below.
Shepard had contained her chest and upper body much the same way as she did the lower. Her black leather top covered her wrist to wrist and up to her throat with a large window that would have left her bust entirely exposed if not for another piece of tight, blue fabric. The strap just below looked exactly like a thinner version of her belt. There was a sliver of cleavage peeking out though. Added to the slicked back hair and a bit of make-up to highlight her features she looked every bit the gang leader as Liara did a student during her fantasy.
After adopting her most intimidating Commander stance the faux pirate typed something into her omni-tool while it was still in her palm without giving it a glance. Three holographic screens appeared from thin air, each displaying a picture of a maiden in direst. To her far right was an image given to her by a certain quarian of Hawke looking dumbly into the camera, drenched in cum from a number of different sources. Next to that was a screen grab from her Strip Arena match showing a freshly naked Bethany curled into a ball attempting to cover up. Then to her left, playing the part of asari victim number three and not to be confused with the T'Soni girl mentioned earlier, was a bound and gagged Liara looking more annoyed than terrified. Shepard had jumped the young doctor coming out of the shower.
"If you don't do as you're told I'll replace you with them." Then after a beat the gang leader further threatened, knowing it would take a lot to shock her ancient prisoner, "And I will not go easy on them. I will split their tiny, virgin assholes apart with a giant, plastic dick, make a recording of it then make you watch it on a loop. Every day I'll produce a new vid and make you watch as I slowly turn all of them into my mindless, little fuck-toys. And then I'll bring them in here one by one and make them beg you to lick their azures and punish them if you turn them down. So tell me Justicar, what does your code dictate you do?"
Samara wasn't shocked, but still rather impressed by the forethought and vulgarity demonstrated. "Sacrifice myself for the innocent. However, it has been my experience that those of your ilk cannot be trusted. How do I know they will remain safe?"
Making sure their eyes aligned Shepard answered, "Swear by your code to serve me and I'll release them back to their families."
There were any number of things the matriarch would do if the situation were real, including demanding the maidens be produced to prove they were even actual captives. That would have been impossible as she highly doubted Hawke, Bethany or Liara even knew what their pictures were being used for. Though, she wouldn't put it past the woman to still have their shared lover tied up somewhere. Also if she were holding to the code any promise made to a criminal was not required to be upheld. Once she knew the trio was safe she would have killed the criminal then wiped out the entire gang. So maybe one session of coerced sex could have been forced on her, but no more.
Instead of adhering to reality Samara counter, "I will only swear under the condition that I am your only slave. No other will have to suffer subjugation at your hands."
Shepard cringed a bit at the word slave, but kept her smirk and stayed in character, "I'm not sure an old lady like you could handle being my only plaything."
"Did you not just boast about all the asari you sleep with? Or are they all slaves who you had to force into your bedchambers?"
"I get plenty of volunteers," the pirate replied with a calm confidence. "But you would be my primary entertainment on long voyages. Plus, I'm the generous type and like to share with my friends. So mine wouldn't be the only thighs you have your face buried between."
"I will not assist you commit any crimes or acts of violence."
"Don't need you to. The only reason you're here is to by my..." bitch would not leave Shepard's mouth; she could not call this asari that. "...toy."
"Very well." Samara thought it disrespectful to use any words from the actual Justicar Code in such a situation so improvised, "I submit myself to your will. Your word is my gospel; your command my action."
"Pretty enough words," the leather adorned woman began a saunter toward her prize. "But I think I'm going to need a demonstration."
With a few dragged out steps the pirate leader approached the naked Justicar, stopping a little closer than an arm's length away. At that moment Samara was reminded how much larger than her the human actually was. It was easy to forget at times that she required high heels for them to be at the same eye level, so with Shepard getting the boost in height from footwear she was practically dwarfed. Having her unwavering stare align with the woman's throat turned out to be a blessing however as she had an excellent view as blue fabric was tugged down. After the nipples were exposed, the cloth bunched up below, a strong hand wrapped around each soft breast; forefinger and thumb toying with the sensitive tips.
"Now, come get your first taste of Mommy's teat." The Justicar began to follow the order, but the pirate interrupted, "No no, you will show me the proper respect by covering up those droopy bags on your chest first."
The attention to detail was impressive. For asari, historically, baring one's breasts was a show of power, so conversely covering them was a sign of submission. Especially in the situation the matriarch found herself in, entirely naked with her only option for concealment being to use her hands. There were few poses more subservient than the one she was adopting. Additionally, since so much emphasis was placed on age in her society the idea of referring to a junior as 'mommy' was particularly degrading. She truly appreciated Shepard's effort; could have done without the 'droopy bags' comment though.
The matriarch's breasts were too large for her hands to completely cover, but once her palms were filled her captor talked down to her, "Much better. Now open wide for Mommy."
Shepard took a step forward, looming over the shorter asari as she lifted her bust with both hands. A smile broadened her cheeks as she watched the ancient alien's head lean in and dip down. Violet lips captured her left nipple then applied light suction to pull it between them. There was nothing teasing or seductive about it, Samara stayed in character and kept a neutral expression. Despite the lack of passion the one on the receiving end couldn't be happier and had no qualms over showing it, so sighed openly at the attention being paid to her sensitive, little tip. After a minute of suckling she pulled her boob away and presented the other for the same treatment. She allowed the same amount of time to past with the matriarch's mouth on her second breast as she did on the first before yanking it away.
"Sorry, but that's all you get for today," said with a mocking extra bulge given to the lower lip. "Don't worry though you'll get more soon enough; daily in fact. At the moment though, I think you should thank Mommy for allowing you to suck on her tit."
Looking the human looming over her straight in the eye Samara replied with zero sincerity, "Thank you Mommy for allowing me to suck on your tit."
Shepard knew she probably should have been miffed at the wooden delivery, but she was just too excited over having the matriarch call her 'Mommy' and say the word 'tit' to care; still she controlled her giddiness enough to continue, "Hmm, I'm not sure saying it is good enough. I think you should show me how grateful you are."
"How?"
"How... what?"
"How, Mommy?"
After a moment of thought the pirate suggested, "My boots could use a cleaning."
Despite the obvious the naked matriarch asked, "Do you have a shoe shining kit?"
The only response that question got was a raised eyebrow, so with no further ado Samara sunk to her knees and for the first time since the scene began moved her feet. Her captor was close enough that she had to slide back a bit to get a good angle. Placing her hands and elbows on the floor she leaned forward tongue extended to get her first tentative taste of the high-heeled boot. Only the very tip of her purple probe made contact with the black leather, testing its flavor and texture before fully committing. She then flicked at the point of the toes unsure how to get started.
"Give them a nice spit polish," Shepard suggested from above. "And stick that butt of yours in the air, I want a better look."
Taking the queue Samara arched her spine to raise her bare posterior as high a possible as she spat a spray of saliva on the leather before her. Since she didn't have a rag at the moment she flattened her tongue and dragged it over the toe of the boot. It took a few sprawling laps to coat the entire top of the boot. Once she was satisfied with the shine she tilted her head and leaned further forward on her elbows to begin work on the instep. It seemed her new mistress would not be helping her out by repositioning so the onus was on her.
Watching the ancient alien lick her boot sent a cascade of conflicting emotions through Shepard. The sight of the huddled over blue body at her feet was an obvious turn-on that made her pants wet, but there was also a twinge of guilt. She felt bad about putting such a wise, powerful and overall amazing person in such a degrading position. She just had so much respect and love for the asari that what she was doing felt so very wrong, that she shouldn't even be watching it. Then there was also a desire to not only watch the indecent act, but to kneel down and join in. She desperately wanted to drag her own tongue over every tiny scale of the matriarch's luscious body. She was so confused, but the one thing she did know was she could not be trusted and had to stay standing so as not to give in to her baser instincts to worship each and every one of Samara's curves.
As the conflict of conscious raged above the enslaved asari was finishing up her tongue bath of the first boot, having contorted her neck quite a bit to get the back. Because of the chaps she couldn't get any higher than the ankles and thought it out of character to put in the extra effort so moved on to the second piece of footwear. This time, since she was already leaning so far forward she started by wrapping her lithe appendage around the stiletto heel. She spit a few drops at the instep and worked her way forward adding a shine to the leather as she went. She didn't stop until she had tasted every inch of her mistress's boot. Once her job was done Samara sat back on her haunches and looked up to await the next order. A lot of the cockiness had vanished from the human's face replaced by a twitching brow and tightening jaw. If she didn't know any better she may have mistaken the expression for anger, but she did and knew it had quite the opposite meaning which was worrisome in its own way.
The sight of the naked matriarch kneeling at her feet was almost too much for Shepard's libido to endure, but somehow she managed to study her boot for a second and then croak, "Good enough."
To give her lover a chance to recover some composure Samara didn't immediately respond, she wanted the game to continue, but realized the young woman may not last long. "Have I shown you enough gratitude now?"
"Yes," the pirate replied curtly as she started a new circuit around her prisoner and once out of sight she took the opportunity to glance at her notes. "Cleaning boots probably isn't the best use of your tongue though. Plus I bet you'd like to lick something a lot tastier than leather."
A trio of fingers traced the valleys of the asari's crest, but she didn't give in to the loving touch and instead asked, "Do you have boots made of rubber too?"
Samara's question was answered with a playful, though entirely insincere, laugh that persisted until she saw the leather clad hips of her tormentor sway back into view. Having abandoned her staring contest with the shadows she allowed her eyes to follow the human circling around to once again stand in front of her. This time however Shepard was facing away from her, filling her vision with a pair of round, muscular buttocks contained in the tightest possible pants imaginable. For a second she didn't know what to make of the new position, but then two thumbs hooked in the waistband of the snug bottoms and the fabric was slowly pulled down. Bit by bit the firm cheeks were exposed, the released flesh eagerly spilling from its confines.
Once Shepard's entire ass was hanging out, the waistband cut into her skin just below magnifying its flawless curve, she ordered, "Now come give this a cleaning."
A far more enticing offering than the boots which Samara gladly accepted and since her captor was turned the other way she allowed herself a thin grin. As she leaned in the human's thumbs were retracted, leaving her the task of keeping the blue pants down out of the way. She hooked four fingers under either cheek then stuck the bridge of her nose between. Her tongue reached out like a purple tentacle to get as far into the cavern just below the posterior as possible. With all the strength her nimble appendage could muster she began to slowly make her way up. She couldn't get terribly deep into the crevasse, her one little muscle was no match for the pair of powerful glutes, but it was more than enough to cause a break out of goose bumps.
The taste was not what the subjugated asari was expecting. It seemed Shepard had put an abundance of effort into washing; perhaps too much as flowery, perfumed soaps overwhelmed all other possible scents and flavors. A standard toilet would have sanitized everything more than enough. At least it showed her pet had planned ahead. Coming out of the crack her tongue flattened out for the short trip to the black belt then took a right to follow the leather boundary around until she encountered the chaps on the human's hips. A stroke downward was impractical so she swiftly shifted back to where she started for her second lick. The sluggish lap she took next went diagonally across the meat of the cheek up to where her last ended.
Worshipping the human's butt was a lot more enjoyable than she'd have guessed beforehand. It was one of the few body parts she didn't have much experience with; besides spanking, fingering and fucking it. She'd never taken the time to be so intimate with the strong but yielding mounds of flesh. It was difficult to find an opportunity for such ass play while remaining in the dominant position, though from now on she was going to put more effort into finding those opportunities. She really liked the feel of the fine hairs and tiny goose bumps against her tongue. The only improvement would have been if Shepard had gone easier on the cleaning products and she could get more of the human's natural scent and taste.
With a few more licks the kneeling matriarch managed to slick the upper half of the right flank. For the lower part she decided to begin by lapping at the under curve of the cheek. Each was short but languished as if she were cautiously eating an ice-cream cone to avoid a cold headache. Once she got around to the hip she increased the length of her stroke to cover as much skin as possible and doubled back to finish moistening the entire right buttock. For the left side she took a different tact, starting in the center and working her way out, she lavished the meaty mound as if she were a mama cat cleaning her kitten.
The loving attention was making the one who was suppose to be in charge melt. It took every reserve of self-control Shepard had to keep her fingers out of her pants and parts. The only way for her to keep her hands from heading south was to put them to work stimulating something else. So as her ass was being worshiped by the matriarch she was feeling herself up. She massaged her own breasts while teasing the tips with pinches and tweaks. It took such concentration to resist her own desires that she was very aware of every little movement the asari behind her made, even the light breaths against her moistened skin. So she could easily tell when the last lick was about to be made. In anticipation she released her right boob.
Just after Samara finished eliminating the last dry spot on her mistress's posterior she felt a tight grip on the back of her crest. The demanding hand dragged her back toward the center, forcing her face into the crevasse between firm buttocks. When the human's waist bent away from her the next act expected of her became clear and her tongue went back to work. Her agile, purple muscle dipped down to tickle the lower tip of Shepard's vaginal lips before sliding over the little bit of skin that separated orifices. Passing over the rear rim she added extra pressure to her thorough lick.
Shepard's eyes rolled back into her head, her toes curled in her boots as her rear passage was traversed by the delicate appendage of her captive. No longer seeing the need in holding the asari in place she let go of the ridged crest. Both hands quickly found their way to her thighs then after a further minute of ministrations her knees. She never would have thought having a tongue playing with her anus would feel so good. That wasn't why she had Samara licking her ass however. It just seemed like such a submissive act; plus her owner had never ordered her to do it and she really wanted to avoid being a copycat mistress. But between this and the lecture the other day she was really coming around on anal sex.
Samara was also getting into it and lost track of her character a bit as she pleasured the human's puckered hole. Her fingers finally left Shepard's pants to take hold of the slick mounds to either side of her head. The fabric rebounded to brush against her chin, but stayed out of the way. She pushed the buttocks inward to maximize the amount of contact her face was making. All the while she continued to probe, lap and stimulate the best she could with her tongue and lips. She even, though the term was completely unknown to her, did some motor boating.
The longer the anilingus went the weaker Shepard's legs got until she finally began to sink to her knees. It was a slow, gradual descent to the ground; Samara maintaining contact the whole time. The stilettos complicated it a little but she made it down to all fours easily enough. She almost immediately dropped to her elbows, raising her ass as high as possible. Her head hung low as she panted for breathe.
Then the pirate facade failed, "Please, I need your fingers, ma'am."
Caught up in the moment Samara didn't pay much mind to the lapse and lent a helping hand. Like so many times before she nudged pants out of the way in order to reach the heated core of her lover. The angle was slightly different, but the amount of experience she had made adapting a simple matter. Here fingertips immediately found the spots that caused the greatest quivers. With the added stimulation being inflicted by her tongue the human couldn't last long. A minute's worth of thrusts, rubs, licks and kisses was all it took to bring the woman to climax. After which they both collapsed; her back on her butt and Shepard face down on the cold floor.
After fogging the marble with panting breaths for a minute as her body recovered the supposed mistress realized what had just happened and grumbled, "Fuck."
"It is alright," Samara sighed. "It is obvious you are not comfortable with this."
"No," Shepard pulled up her pants and flipped over in a flash. "I'm fine. We don't have to stop. Just give me a second."
The matriarch watched her young lover's attempt to stand get thwarted by unfamiliarly tall stilettos. "The moment is lost."
"No!" the former commander repeated, she would not fail the one who had given her so much especially not because of her own selfishness. "It's just a minor setback. I can be a mistress."
"Perhaps, just not with me," Samara smiled.
"But this is what you wanted." Another stumble back to her butt had Shepard giving up on standing for the moment. "I'll take it more seriously."
"Taking a game seriously removes the point of it."
"Not really," she was getting frustrated by the asari's lack of frustration. "This is your game. You're enjoyment is all that matters."
The matriarch began to rise to her feet. "I am not much for games anyway."
Shepard tried standing again, but didn't immediately succeed so she snapped off the offending stilettos with her hands and got up. "Stop treating me like a fucking child! I don't need you coddling me!"
A moment of silence past as a first thought crossed Samara's mind then a very different one left her lips, "Then stop acting like a child."
"What!?" the woman exclaimed, taking an aggressive step forward.
The matriarch squared her shoulders to the human. "How else would you describe our relationship? I do not treat you like I would an actually pet. I treat you as I would a child in this game you demand we play."
"I demand? You were the one in denial over your code and your feelings. You're the one who forced us into this dynamic instead of having a normal relationship!"
"I did not put the collar around your neck, I just humored it," Samara's tone remained even.
"Oh, so you've just been giving me the longest pity fuck in history?" Shepard spat angrily before turning sarcastic, "I'm just some burden you have to put up with? That all the love, affection, sex and worship were just this huge hardship you had to endure."
"Worship? That is why we cannot be bondmates or girlfriends or whatever else you humans call it. You will never allow me off the pedestal you have put me on. You rather live in a fantasy world. That is something only a child would do, so that is how I have to treat you."
"Oh is this how you treat kids? Fucking them? No wonder Morinth ran away from you!"
Samara almost raised her voice, "How dare you talk to me like that. I have been fighting and suffering for seven hundred years, you could barely stand three."
"You really want to remind me what an ancient fossil you are? I'll trade your saggy, old ass in for a younger model and turn you into the cuckold you so desperately want to become."
"I so desperate want to become?"
"Yeah, because you're so insecure that you think that's the only way I'll let you stick around. Why else would you let Liara anywhere near me?"
"Because she can provide you things I cannot."
"Horseshit! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"
"I am dumb? So, you admit I may have a flaw? That I am not an immaculate goddess?"
Shepard's shoulders deflated a fraction, "I already knew that."
"Do you? I have never seen evidence to that effect."
"On missions I..."
Samara quickly cut in, "You make smartass comments, but never truly question me."
"I would if..."
Again the woman was jumped, "If you took them seriously."
"Hey, I take every mission seriously!"
"Only as seriously as you have to. Everything we do is beneath you. You have rarely put real effort into any of the battles we have fought. It is just an extension of your fantasy. As you said yourself, you like being a hero but are tired of the responsibilities that come with it. In fact, you no longer want any responsibilities and act like a selfish child when you are with me. I am just another part of your fantasy."
"No, that isn't how I meant it. You're not just that to me. I'd never," the words stumbled out of Shepard's mouth, her legs steadily weakening until she collapsed to the floor.
Samara's anger dwindled to nothing as she realized the devastation she had inflicted and rushed forward, beginning to consol before even reaching the crumbled woman, "I apologize. I did not mean that."
"Yes you did, because you're right," tears were forming. "I'm nothing but a selfish kid whose been using you."
"I love you so much," the matriarch assured as she wrapped her arms around the one she adored, though she encountered some resistance at first. "I let emotion get the best of me and said things I am already regretting. You have revitalized my life in a way I never thought possible."
Shepard wasn't yet ready to return the hug, but did press her face against a blue shoulder. "You never let emotions get the best of you."
"Because of you that has changed." This was the first time Samara had ever witnessed the former commander cry and it was somewhat disconcerting. "You can be childish at times, but I find it adorable and precious because I doubt many, if any, have seen such a side of you and I feel fortunate to be the one who gets to."
"I believe you, but tell me the whole truth," the request was quiet, full of fear of the reply.
After a moment of thought the elder asari began, "You have gone through unfathomable hardships that would have broken anyone else, so you needing a break from reality is both understandable and deserved. However, it is not healthy to let fantasy take over your life, to only live in a world where you are a pet. And to be honest, I would like if our relationship were more balanced and to share some the responsibilities."
"I'm sorry for forcing that collar and all my other perversions on you."
"Oh no," Samara softly contradicted. "Do not misunderstand. You should not be ashamed of any of your desires, sexually or otherwise. All I meant was there should be a better balance in your life. I would be happy to keep that collar on you forever, but I think it would be better for both of us if we kept it in the bedroom. Besides, as you said, it was my own denial and confusion over my feelings that forced you into the position."
Being reminded of her previous words made Shepard immediately want to say, "I'm sorry about what I said, especially what I said about Morinth."
"And I apologize for what I said as well," finally the matriarch felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her.
"So, we're okay?"
"Of course, my love."
"I love you too." Then after a quiet minute Shepard half-heartedly asked, "Want to try continuing?"
"Not today." Samara pulled back so they could make eye contact. "Perhaps another time."
"No perhaps. We're going to try again. Liara and I have both gotten to live out a fantasy and so will you."
"You are not comfortable with this though."
"What if we made some small changes? Like maybe if I'm not the bad guy. I hate being the bad guy, even in games. It was a struggle to join the Dark Brotherhood or the Thieves Guild."
With a bemused smile Samara said, "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"I would rather be a loving mistress like you than a mean one like today."
Their foreheads gravitated together as the matriarch replied, "I will leave it to you then. Under the condition Liara joins us."
"Not that I'm complaining, but why?"
"What is the saying?" Samara had to search her memory for the proper phrase before continuing, "At the moment she is more of a third wheel and I would like to change that so the three of us share a single relationship. Plus, it will be more fun."
"Okay, but I have to ask again. Why did you bring her here?"
"I did not think the two of us could have a proper relationship as things were going, though after what you just said I am starting to think insecurity and stupidity may have been the main reasons. I still believe I am too old to be a girlfriend or bondmate."
"What about a wife?"
With a chuckling grin Samara replied, "I would need to give that some consideration. Where would that leave Liara though?"
"Liara will be my girlfriend, then all I'll need is a matron to be my bondmate and I'll have a complete set!" Shepard then wondered aloud, "I wonder if I still have Shiala's e-mail address."
"Glad to see you have returned to your usual smartass self," the matriarch commented before pecking her lover's lips and beginning to stand up
"Yeah I'm alright now." And to prove she was fully recovered added as a helping hand was offered to her, "When did 'smartass' enter your vocabulary?"
"Shortly after meeting you."
It wasn't until they were both to their feet that either of them recalled their sates of dress and shared a chuckle. Before the frivolity fully ended they stepped together to engage a warm embrace. Rather than kiss they nuzzled each other's necks and shoulders. Then Samara reached out with her mind to join their souls together. Asari almost never had make-up sex; make-up melds did far more to reaffirm love and heal emotional wounds. The argument was over, but they still had a lot to discuss. The recording made of their encounter was deleted. Neither wanted to hear the words they lobbed at one another ever again.
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The Justicar's Dog of War