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Culture Shock	By : Hyperion Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 18748 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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The trees stank of sulphur.

There was no vegetation aboard the Fleet, save the artificial kind the quarians had engineered to spruce up the home that had been forced upon them. They looked and felt and even smelled like the genuine article, but it was only once she'd embarked on her Pilgrimage that the difference had sunk in. Real trees and flowers and leaves had an elusive quality that the quarians could never capture, a quality that Shepard, Liara and Garrus so readily took for granted on their homeworlds.

But as it was for so many things, Camala was different. The planet's trees were just as acrid and foul as the planet's people.

Her suit's olfactory filters were calibrated to their highest setting. Whenever the slaves were brought to these woods, her filters were always on full blast. She found it impossible to keep her breakfast down without them; so overpowering was the stench. She had tried to limit her reliance on the suit --- the power was slowly running out, and she needed to spare at least a little juice for her drone in case an opportunity to escape her captivity ever presented itself.

Thus far none had presented themselves, and she had no choice now but to use up a little more of her suit's power. Without it, she stood no chance of surviving the Hunt.

The batarians held the Hunt at the last day of their week, every week. They brought the slaves to the forest that stank like sulphur and let them loose, promising that any slave who could make it through the woods to the other side by sundown would be free to go. Tali did not know of anyone who had made it through to the other side. The forest was vast and dense, with treacherous obstacles along the way. Some of the slaves swore that a select few had made it through the forest and escaped from Camala for good. Others swore that it was all a lie, and that at the end of the forest lurked a towering wall with barbed wire at its peak, which you could try to climb but never succeed, wasting your strength till the War Beasts came to rip you to shreds for their dinner.

The slaves were not the only creatures the batarians loosed into the woods during the Hunt. The slobbering alien hounds they called War Beasts were called varren in the rest of the galaxy, where they were generally treated as either nuisances or pets, but varren were quite popular in the batarian military. Their hardy nature, keen hunting instincts and capacity for great aggression had endeared them to the soldiers of Khar'shan, who kept them around military installations as guard companions. The batarians bred their varren carefully, allowing only the biggest and toughest males to mate with the females and disposing of the rest. It worked magnificently --- their varren were significantly bigger than varren found elsewhere in the galaxy, with tougher hides and massive jaws that could crush through flesh and bone and end a life in seconds.

And when the slaves ran away into the woods, they knew they had half an hour’s head start before the War Beasts were set free. Come sundown, anyone who escaped the woods was free to go, or so they said. Anyone still in the woods would be dragged back to the military camp they’d been held at for months now.

And anyone cornered by the varren would be dragged back to the outskirts of the woods at sundown, where the other slaves would be forced to watch as the poor unfortunate was ripped to shreds and eaten by the beasts. Or worse.

This was Tali’s ninth Hunt, and as she ran through the trees, she desperately tried to remember all the paths she’d explored on the eight Hunts before. Her suit picked up the low growl of a War Beast from a distance to her left, and she quickly began sprinting in the opposite direction, hoping that the varren was tracking some other girl. Since it had not chased her down, her hope was probably true; she doubted she could outrun a varren. Thus far she had had a good streak of luck when it came to avoiding the War Beasts during the Hunt. Perhaps her suit masked her scent and made it harder for them to detect her, but she had only encountered a varren face-to-face once so far, and had managed to escape by using up nearly a tenth of her suit’s remaining power to zap the animal with an electric current. The other slaves had many stories of the lengths they’d had to go to escape being cornered by the pack. Or at least the ones who survived did.

Through a crack in the foliage she could see the sun setting in the sky. It could not be much longer before her ninth Hunt ended, and even though she hadn’t made it through to the end, she’d managed to stay alive, a victory in itself. Then she heard the awful sound she’d heard on four previous Hunts --- a howl in the distance, quickly followed by another, and then a series of responding howls that converged upon the initial two. The War Beasts had caught someone.

When the siren sounded the end of the Hunt, she waited until the soldiers came to her location --- given away by the tracking chip placed in the electronic collar around her neck --- and pulled her back to the point outside the Woods where the Hunt had begun. Along the way she spotted other soldiers escorting other slaves, and kept her eyes peeled to try and figure out whom the varren had captured.

She counted three humans, five asari, and a couple of turians along the way. She was the only quarian slave. The ten she spotted were less than half the total number of slaves being held at the batarian camp --- who was missing?

They were brought to a clearing outside the woods and ordered to fall to their knees; the few who didn't hit the ground fast enough were encouraged by vicious jolts from cattle prods, and the fearful silence was punctuated by their yelps. All their eyes studied the floor; any attempt to look around and see who had been captured would be met by another kiss from the cattle prod, for the batarians hated having the surprise spoiled.

"Another Hunt, and they're still all here," grinned a batarian lieutenant who went by Grotha. "I thought we made you whores a generous deal! Get through the forest and you're free to go." He walked around them, languidly running the punishing end of his cattle prod along their backs. It had been switched off, but it still met with violent flinching everytime it grazed bare skin. "We must be great hosts indeed, if our guests have grown so attached to our hospitality."

There were six lieutenants present, each one worse than the one before, but all of them took cues from the base Commander, a grizzled old warhorse called Karsek Dal-Terat. Most of the soldiers stationed on Camala were locals, but not Karsek --- he was born and raised on Dezda, the heart of an area of the Kite’s Nest caught in unending battle between feuding political forces. Dezda’s perpetual war bred the hardest soldiers of the batarian military; men who bombed cities just to kill individual targets, and who flayed the hides off their prisoners to sew into macabre flags hoisted on the walls of razed colonies. Aged and visibly worn down by decades of warmongering, Karsek’s reputation still commanded respect and fear from younger, stronger men who served under him. Corporals and generals alike knew that lives would be forfeit when a Dezda man was crossed.

“Eyes up, whores, these shows are just for you.”

Fifty female eyes shot up without a second’s delay, before Karsek’s mouth had finished voicing his words, for they had learned the slightest delay meant another electric sting. Fifty eyes found the slave the War Beasts had hunted down --- a sobbing asari girl with tape strapped across her mouth to silence --- and fifty eyes stared unblinking, without the slightest show of emotion for their captors to exploit. Privately, their hearts collectively sank, and it was all Tali could do to resist the urge to turn away; when an asari was captured in the Hunt, her fate was especially cruel.

Karsek walked over to the panting War Beasts, turning his attention to the biggest of the pack: a hulking hound whose hide matched the dirt beneath its paws, whose eyes were orbs of yellow and whose foot-long tusks were sharp as blades. He stroked the beast under the chin as the other batarians forced the captured asari on her hands and knees, ripping off what few clothes she had with their bare hands, and encouraging her with more jolts when they felt she needed them. Soon enough she was naked and trembling as she knelt in position, tears still streaming down her wet face as the tape over her mouth muffled her crying. Karsek hated crying. It moved him to violence. Just a few weeks before, the Hounds had captured a turian girl, and she had wailed and cried so much that Karsek had snapped her neck in a fit of rage before the varren could even begin tearing into her flesh. Ever since, the other batarians had taken to gagging the Hunt’s captured victims so that their crying would not provoke Karsek into ruining their fun.

But the varren would not eat this girl. There was special treatment reserved for the asari.

Karsek stopped scratching the varren, instead raising its head up to draw its attention to the kneeling asari. He whistled softly, and the Beast knew its cue. Tali and her fellow slaves watched, helplessly, as the enormous animal charged forward, its feet scattering the dirt in a dozen different directions, and raised its upper half onto the asari’s back. Her eyes widened and the muffled sounds from behind her gag grew louder as she screamed with renewed urgency, but the beast’s weight held her still in place, and all the slaves could see, as they had seen before, the varren’s enormous cock trailing between its legs, so large it scraped the floor below. But they saw it for only a moment before the beast arched its haunches and rammed its organ right into the asari’s waiting pussy.

They saw the vein in her throat flare as she screamed her lungs out into her gag, fingers and toes twitching from the sheer agony of the varren’s hard, rough entry. She was like no bitch he had ever had before, soft and blue, but cunt was cunt and he did what nature bid him. His length stabbed deep inside her, deeper than anything ever had, and every violent thrust shook her entire frame, like a ragdoll beneath the beast’s frame. His sheer weight pressing down on her back proved too much for her to bare, and her arms buckled. The beast pushed her head down to the dirt, and she could feel the coarse soil along the side of her face as the animal ravaged her lower half; the only half it really cared about.

“True love!” Grotha jeered, and the others laughed; even Karsek, who never laughed, was always amused when this happened.

Karsek knelt down by the asari, pinching her cheek as her face scraped against the dirt again and again. “Do it,” he whispered. She knew what he meant, but it had horrified her when she saw it before, and it horrified her to do it now. She squirmed where she lay, mobility restricted by the weight of the raping hound on top of her, and tried to look up at Karsek and plead with her eyes. He met her plea and remained unmoved.

“Do it.”

She moaned desperately into her gag, a fresh set of tears rolling down her face, but Karsek had reached the end of his patience. With no trace of pity in his cold, black heart, he whispered again for her to do as he commanded, and a second later reached into a pocket and brought out his cattle prod. Before she could even scream into her gag, he slipped the prod underneath and jabbed a nipple, sending a surge of lightning through her. She thrashed violently and the varren growled, but Karsek pressed the prod into the flesh of her breast again, and the excruciating pain cut into her mind and body again. She screamed into her gag, and were it removed, she would have sworn to her Goddess that she would do as he wanted if he would just stop, but Karsek was merciless, and there was only one way to stop him. Her soul broke then and there on the cold forest floor as her eyes turned black and she began to bond with the animal fucking her from behind.

The varren howled as its mind was suddenly connected to its bitch. It was frightened at first, but the connection broke a floodgate of endorphins loose into its animal brain, and its legs twitched and shuddered as it began pumping its load into the soft blue pussy. The asari's moans faded into silence as she felt herself filling up, the warm seed finding its way into her core as the varren's organ knotted inside her, tying the girl and her mate together until all the beast's secretions were secure inside her. In the black void that connected their minds, her body fulfilled its natural process, reaching out to take what it needed, drawing genetic material from the varren's body to fertilize her womb with a bastard child born of animal seed.

She cried again, but in silence. The slaves made not a sound, though many shook in fear, lips trembling as they tried desperately to stifle sobs.

And the batarians laughed and laughed, recording the poor girl's ordeal for future use.

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She was Karsek’s pet project, and had been from day one. It was he who had learned of her presence on Camala, he who had arranged for her to be brought to this little corner of hell, and he who had held her down with his hands pinning her wrists and raped her first, taking her violently from behind as his soldiers watched and jeered, before throwing her to the rest, leaving her to be violated in every way imaginable for hours and hours on end. Once they were done he had her brought to his private quarters, where she had a small room to herself. That night, he had opened the door to the room and forced himself upon her again. She had struggled, but he had lashed out at her once, just once, with a stinging force that resounded in her ears for hours, and all the fight had faded from her as he turned her on her stomach, tore away her suit and thrust himself into her sore ass again, just as painful as the first time had been.

The other slaves were common property, to be used as needed, but Tali was of the Normandy, and Karsek had staked his claim on her. No one could touch her but him. Occasionally, he would let the men have some fun with her, with strict orders to prevent breakage --- and so they pushed the limits as far as they possibly could without causing permanent damage. For two days she had once lain in bed, unable to even walk after the soldiers took turns to spear her ass with two cocks at a time, pair after pair, and even then Karsek had not shown her the slightest mercy, wandering into her tiny room in the dead of the night. If her ass could not serve, he would make her take him into her mouth, and hold her head in place as he forced her to swallow his load.

But if the objective had been to break her, they had failed at every step of the way. Perhaps she could not resist physically, but they could never quash her spirit. They wanted to see her weep and cry for Commander Shepard to save her, and there were times, private times, when she felt like doing just that, but in the company of her captors her will was resolute even as her body was tarnished over and over again. It enraged the soldiers when she would not crumble. If it enraged Karsek, no one could ever tell. He never raised his voice. He never had to. When he wanted her, he would take her as he pleased, and when he felt she needed a lesson, he would give her to his men. She never gave him the satisfaction of knowing how much pain she swallowed silently. When they were alone, she would fix him with a steely, emotionless gaze, so that even as he raped her, he would know that he could not break her.

On the rare occasions that she was unsupervised, she would look around for unmanned communications consoles, dreaming to herself about being able to make contact with the Fleet, with the Citadel, with the Normandy, with anyone that could help her. She had not found one yet. But as long as she held fast to her will, she could hope, and plan, and think her way out of her captivity. She had faced a Reaper and traveled past the Omega-4 relay. No batarian was going to get the better of her.

And then came the fateful day when she had been summoned, naked and bewildered, into the center of Karsek's private quarters, where a lone guard pushed her down to her knees as Karsek himself sat on his chair in front of her. Then the guard retreated outside the door, returning with another naked slave that Tali had never seen before, and was likely a new capture. She was a young human who could not have been more than 17 or 18, with shoulder-length red hair, hazel eyes and pert breasts that were red all over from abuse. Her face was greasy from crying, and from the looks of it she had very recently, perhaps within the last few hours, been broken in by the soldiers for the very first time.

"I have a problem in need of a solution," Karsek declared, in his flat, cold tone, and the two slaves looked promptly to him, neither wanting to look at the other.

"Tonight we celebrate our Unity festival," he continued, "And on this base, we celebrate by sharing one of the whores, the most promising of the lot, with all the men of the garrison." His eyes searched for the slightest response to his declaration, but the two remained silent. There had to be at least a hundred men on base. One girl to service a hundred men?

"Many have asked for you, quarian," he said, and Tali felt cold fear in the pits of her stomach. "Oh, they would break you forever, no doubt, knowing who you are, but my men have worked hard and deserve a reward."

"On the other hand," he went on, shifting his gaze to the terrified human. "We batarians have.....a singular fondness for human whores, and you are the freshest whore of the lot."

"So how do we decide this?" he asked, almost as if he cared about their opinions. The two slaves looked away and caught each other's gaze, and both knew what the other was thinking in that moment. "Better you than me."

"Let us see who wants their reprieve more than the other," Karsek said. From the recesses of a desk he drew something she had never expected to see in his hand: a thick black buttplug with a head curved like an egg. He tossed the sex toy between the two slaves. "Once that enters you, you have lost."

Like lightning the human moved, snatching up the plug and lunging at Tali, who just managed to turn away before the girl could shove the plug inside her cunt. The human fell flat on the floor and looked to her side, and Tali could see in her eyes what must surely have been reflected in her own --- fear, desperation and wild panic. The human lunged again, and this time landed on top of Tali, pushing the quarian down on her back. Tali gripped her arms and tried to push them away; the human girl was of a slender build, but Tali was quarian, and naturally weaker than her. Her wrists shook violently under the strain of trying to keep the human's arms away, and without any options left, she made a desperate play. Her head jerked upwards like a viper and crashed forcefully into the human's face, and the other slave fell back with a cry as the plug slipped from her grasp. Tali snatched it for herself and jumped forward. The human was reeling from the headbutt, her senses a blur. It would be so easy to win --- to shove the plug into the girl's hole and claim her victory. She would have her reprieve.

And she would sentence the other girl to a terrible fate.

She would not break. But was she willing to break someone else?

The girl beneath her was even younger than Tali, and the soldiers had only defiled her once so far. Doubtless they would do so countless times for months to come. But did she have to be defiled again that night, if Tali could prevent it?

"Please," the human girl begged, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I can't --- I can't do it, please don't do it, please----"

And Tali realized that she could not do it either. She could save herself, but she would just as surely condemn the girl to a night of hell unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She pulled away from the girl on the floor, met Karsek's eye, and flung the plug as hard as she could out the window.

The lone guard stationed nearby, thus far having enjoyed the show, gave an angry shout, but Karsek waved him to silence, his expression commanding that Tali explain herself.

"I surrender," Tali said. "I lose."

Karsek considered her for a long second. "Do you know what this would mean?"

"Yes," Tali said. If she hesitated, she was lost, and so she plunged forward breathlessly. "I will do it. Whatever you want. With whoever you want, and however many of them. Just---", she glanced at the girl, "spare her. I want your word. Let her be, and I will do everything."

"Very well, then," Karsek said. "We will not harm her tonight." Barely had Tali time to suppress her sigh of relief when Karsek snapped his fingers to draw the attention of the guard at the door. He gestured at the human and gave his orders. "Let the Beasts have her."

"NO!" Tali screamed, a cry mirrored from the human girl. The guard grabbed a fistful of red hair and dragged her away, but Tali lunged forward and caught his forearm, desperately punching it to make him let the girl go. Her reward was a hard slap that send her sprawling to the floor, and as she raised her head she could see the girl's legs dragging across the floor as she was pulled out of the room, and taste the tinge of blood from her cut lip. The human screamed and begged and cried for mercy, and the agony in her voice carried a long way, staying with Tali like a dozen knives slipped between her ribs. She had done this.

"YOU SWORE!" she screamed at Karsek, all composure lost. "YOU SWORE YOU WOULDN'T HURT HER!"

“So I did,” he said, reclining back in his seat. “But the varren made no promises.”

It was, at long last, more than she could bear, and all the anguish she had borne in silence for weeks broke free as Tali began to cry. The wail from her throat was unlike anything she herself had ever heard before, and she beat her fists helplessly against the ground as the tears dripped to dark circles below.

“Why?” she screamed. The batarian did not so much as blink as he watched her weep. “Why did you do that? Why are you doing this?”

Would he kill her for her tears, as he had killed the turian girl? She did not care. She could not care anymore.

"Because I can," he replied calmly. "Because it pleases me to do so. Because you are the Butcher's whore, and until the day we paint the ruins of Bahak with his blood, we will content ourselves with ruining what he treasured." He grabbed her by the chin, squeezing her face painfully. "Learn now what you should have learned the day you were dragged here. No one is coming for you. No one knows where you are. You will never return to the life you once had. And you will never return to him."

His hand slipped down from her chin and wrapped around her throat, and Tali knew she would die. He squeezed down on her windpipe, and she shut her eyes and waited for the end, but it would not come that day. Instead he rose, his grip raising her with him, and bent her over the table. Blankly she stared ahead as her naked body was pressed onto the surface. She could hear Karsek undoing his pants, and she could feel his organ press against her thigh before he took her from behind again, as he had done a dozen times hence, ravaging her now well-experienced ass with his organ. But this time, she did not resist, in any manner big or small. She did not stiffen up and try to deny him even the slightest possible iota of pleasure. She did not retreat into the sanctuary of her mind to forget what was being done to her body. She lay there, slack and empty, almost catatonic, her only feeling being her body sliding against the table as Karsek pumped back and forth inside her.

No one is coming for you.

No one knows where you are.

His rough hands pressed painfully on her shoulder blades as he began to thrust deeper and farther, approaching his climax. He crashed his hips against her buttocks, lodging all of his length inside her as he came, and the warm liquid that gushed into her hole felt like another stain on her soul. Another reminder that she was the cockroach, the vermin, the filth that the galaxy had always told her she would be. He pulled loose and seed dribbled from her hole, but there was no respite. He caught hold of her hair and pulled her off the table, and as he took his seat he dropped her on the floor, spreading his legs apart expectantly.

The need was clear --- he had debased himself with her body, and now he would need to be cleaned of her foulness.

That life is over.

John would never know where she was. He would never come to rescue her. This was all that lay ahead --- Karsek and his hounds and his cock, and only her obedience to protect against the three.

Over.

His seed tasted of salt and the juices of her own body, and she ran her tongue along his member in long arcs, no longer as his reluctant toy, but as a broken, hollow whore who would do anything for him if he would just make the cruelty stop.

Gone.
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Culture Shock