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The Justicar's Dog of War	By : Doirly_No Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 55028 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Four days later the small, customized vessel with a crew of two departed the Teyolia System for destinations unknown. Shepard thought it odd that their next mission had yet to be chosen, they had been jumping from one operation to the next without respite since their first. The times they lived in made it easy to find injustice and evil, to the point they had a prioritized list. Only a couple button presses would be necessary to bring the requests for help to a screen and pick one. She had complete trust in the Justicar so didn’t question her decision and kept to just wondering. A rest couldn’t hurt though.
As the collared human began doing the dishes she heard the familiar call, “Shepard.”
Immediately what she was doing didn’t matter and she raced to the cockpit to stand at attention next to the pilot’s chair. “Ma’am.”
Samara finished typing a command before shifting her focus, “There is an odd sound coming from under that terminal. See if you can fix it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Immediately she fell to her knees to get to work.
“What are you wearing, Shepard?” the matriarch asked when she saw a red string on a partially exposed hip.
The woman pulled out her head and sat back on her haunches to answer, “What was that, ma’am?”
“Your clothing is different today, why?”
She looked down at herself, still confused. “You mean my shirt? I don’t know, I guess it is a bit shorter than usual.”
Feigning frustration, Samara ordered, “Stand up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Shepard stood to attention.
As had happened many times on that spot, deft hands took hold of the infiltrator’s belt, but she didn’t really understand why. She had gotten a passing, not entirely fulfilling ‘reward’ the night after the operation and figured the reason had to do with fatigue. Still, this didn’t fit the pattern nor did the sharp yank that stopped her from holding up her pants. Even with her trousers pooled around her ankles Shepard stood tall; just her cropped shirt and scant, red g-string giving her any modesty.
“Why are you wearing such provocative underwear?” Samara asked leaning back, arms crossed.
“I bought them for the mission and didn’t want them to go to waste?” the human guessed more than stated.
“I will not tolerate lies, Shepard,” said coldly.
In a rare moment of insecurity Shepard answered, “I guess I thought you may like…”
Samara interrupted the slowly forming answer, “So, you are trying to entice me?”
“I guess…”
Quickly the Justicar shot, “Shepard!”
“Yes, ma’am,” the subordinate said like a scolded child. “I was, ma’am”
“Do you wish me to violate the Code?”
“No…” a guilty Shepard mumbled.
“Go change into proper attire immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The woman began to bend to pull her pants off the floor, but a foot held them down. “You can put these back on when you return.”
Shepard slunk out of the cockpit, her displayed ass closely watched. At her locker she pressed her head to the door, fogging the polished metal a few times before stepping back to open it. She was confused by the mood swings from her asari owner, not thinking thousand year old beings still even got them. They would have been easy enough to deal with, but those shifts in attitude had effected her care and maintenance. Namely: she hadn’t gotten a decent release in over a week and taking care of it herself was forbidden. When she let herself, she had a libido that could rival a high-school, football team and going without this long was getting torturous.
Conveniently, just as the human threw her shirt into the locker, leaving her in the skimpiest of bra and panties, Samara arrived, “I have been reflecting on your words on Nevos.”
“You have, ma’am?” a surprised Shepard asked.
“Yes, I have come to realize how selfish I have been. Only beholden to the Code, my vows and to justice. The people always secondary, simply means for which to demonstrate my justness. I now see yours, the path of the hero, may be the more noble than that of the Justicar,” After a pause for effect she added, ”And I believe that heroes have fewer restrictions on the relationships they may pursue.”
With her final word Samara released a clasp on either shoulder of the already loosened armor. With the flicks the whole of it fell to the floor with a thump revealing nothing but blue. She stepped from the pile to take a deliberate pace toward her human, who had yet to so much as flinch. Once close enough she shut the locker for the stunned Shepard then leaned in to brush a kiss across her lips. Not feeling anything need be said to make her offer, the asari continued on.
Shepard’s head swiveled to follow the body she worshipped, having yet to gain the use of her legs. Not hearing feet falling into line behind, the matriarch turned back to see what was amiss. Their eyes locked, the asari’s look one of slight confusion while the human’s a completely unreadable, blank stare.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The infiltrator began to finally move. “I can’t give you what you want, not any more. You’ve waited too long and teased me too much.”
Samara’s heart sunk, but only an instant before buoying to her throat in fear as the expression on Shepard’s face tightened and she demonstrated her strength. With powerful hands she took hold of the cups covering her chest. A single jerk overexerted the hooks on the back and the lingerie was thrown to the floor. Then one took hold of the strip concealing her crotch, turning it into a scrap of fabric not big enough to be a rag.
“No, it’s too late for just a kiss and a wink.”
As the wild human slowly approached, the bewildered asari backpedaled with matching steps. They sized each other up as if a battle neared. Her experience tied to fighting criminals, the matriarch didn’t know how to deal with predatory animals and she committed the most grievous of errors. Samara turned to run, breaking Shepard’s stupor and the pursuit was on.
Sadly, Samara slipped at the transition from hallway to kitchen. In a second she was tackled from behind, knocking lose a shriek she hadn’t made since she was a maiden. Her feet left the floor, the bear hug around her waist kept her aloft all the way to the breakfast nook. None too gently she was slammed down, the edge of the table bit into her hips as the human’s weight pressed her.
“Shepard, no,” the asari scolded as she tried to shake the woman off. “Bad Shepard. No. Stop this.”
The former commander wasn’t listening, she rather suck at the junction of the blue neck. One hand tried to wedge itself underneath to grope a trapped breast while the other slipped along the jaw to turn the head into a passionate kiss. Her captive proved too nimble as the pursed lips kept evading to the opposite side from where she made her strikes. Eventually she decided to settle for returning to nibbling skin and focusing on another flank.
When a hand finally dug its way deep enough to tweak a nipple, Samara’s counter attack began. She made a jerk to the right, enough to get most of the weight off her. Quickly she followed with a roll, but was undone by the small dimensions of the table and the pair fell off on to the bench attached to the wall. They landed with her on top looking into the human’s mischievous eyes. A moment’s hesitation proved costly and before she could pull away fingers laced behind her neck to pull her into a desperate kiss. The passion and need behind the embrace caused a temporary surrender.
Feeling the struggling subside, Shepard’s hold lessened as both hands drifted. The arm against the wall snaked under the asari’s to wrap around and hold the opposite shoulder to seal their bodies together. The other went lower so she could squeeze the generous swell of Samara’s bottom. Their tongues danced around each other, neither looking for dominance, just wanting to explore and feel. Without intending to her leg split the alien’s.
The persistent thigh rubbing against her azure got the matriarch to remember herself. She couldn’t allow this to continue, no matter the amount of desire in her own heart. This had to happen on her terms, she had to take control. With the grip too weak to keep her, she mustered the strength to pull away using the tabletop as her escape route.
It took only a second for Shepard to realize her prisoner had gotten away and give pursuit. She scurried under the table and into the next room. Once she got fully upright her eyes reengaged Samara’s, who stood next to the bed having regained her composure.
“Shepard,” the nude matriarch demanded sternly. “If you continue like this I will be forced to punish you. Now, on your knees.”
The human bore her teeth and renewed her advance. After a few steps she broke into a full on charge. Just before impact Samara leaned in with her shoulder and with some biotic help flipped the mad woman ass over head on to the bed. The slick, silk sheets didn’t slow her enough to avoid banging her feet into the wall. The throw only proved a minor hindrance though and Shepard quickly recovered coming to kneel in the center of the bed.
“You’re going to have to break me,” the woman challenged with beckoning hands.
“You humans are such uncivilized creatures.” Samara sauntered forward. “Requiring primitive shows of dominance.”
Shepard slid herself closer to meet her owner at bedside. “Oh, and what do you know of my people’s savage practices?”
“I have done research, so to properly control you,” the matriarch said with a wry smile as she hooked a pair of fingers in the D-ring of her human’s collar.
An ecstatic smile tore Shepard’s cheeks; her chest tightening, eyes lighting with anticipation. She couldn’t hold back too long or withstand one more moment of just speaking and made the first move. It was Samara’s turn to be tossed ass over head as an arm reached over her shoulder and the other through her legs to powerslam her back on to the bed. In a smooth, continued motion she floated over to get on top. She tightened her hold of the asari’s shoulders to capture another kiss, but she got greedy trying to also reach for the asari azure.
Not securing a solid enough hold gave Samara a chance to counter. She twisted her whole body and got herself on top. That didn’t last long as Shepard overpowered the asari to get back to the advantageous position. The two went back and forth several times trying to pin the other, the human having an edge as she had a specific goal in mind. The matriarch still had to decide on her course of action.
After taking a lap rolling around the mattress Shepard lifted the matriarch and pressed her against the wall, her mouth relentlessly seeking anything to lick, suck or nibble. Just as on the table, Samara gave in to the passionate tongue lapping at her for a moment. Again it took the grazing of her labia to snap out of it. Also repeated was the human drifting off to her own little world.
Deciding this had to be put to an end, the asari stood up to gain leverage and wrapped her arm around the collared neck. Having locked in a guillotine choke, Samara became better able to dictate things. She spun them both around and fell back with Shepard’s head under her arm. She had to settle the woman down and knew the best way of going about it.
Finding her face in the mattress, Shepard immediately tried to fight out, but feet hooked together just above her butt to limit her options. Her arms flailed, trying to get a hold of something to reverse her predicament. The asari only tightened the python like grip. She settled down a few seconds to think and regroup. Her lust addled brain failed to figure anything out so she returned to trying to just power out.
Samara let the resistance continue a while before she felt it time to assert her dominance. Not letting up her hold she slipped her hand in between them. The struggling reignited as soon as fingers passed the navel, intensifying the further in they went until they reached the goal. As soon as a nail got wet a groan rumbled into her side. When one curled inside the arms that were trying to pull away collapsed. Slowly she began to massage the pink lips that she had so much experience manipulating.
Sensing them no longer needed, the matriarch relaxed her legs to make it easier to stimulate her pet’s clitoris. The muffled groans grew louder as the body melted. She could probably have let go and Shepard would have obediently let herself be fingered to orgasm, but the control this position gave was too enticing to sacrifice. She watched the sweat-soaked, straining back writhe as she continued the ministrations of the moist slit between the human’s legs.
Strong arms clung to Samara as if she were the last life preserver from a sinking ship as the waves climbed. She sat up without lessening her hold so to reach greater depths. As close as her lips came, she couldn’t resist placing a series of kisses on the shoulder blade and dragging her tongue along the ridge of a flexed muscle as she broke the woman down, wringing out the orgasm she demanded.
Not until Shepard went slack did Samara release her; taking the opportunity to slide out from under the limp body and the two took a quiet moment of recovery. The asari sat alongside the woman laying face down, gently rubbing her back as it rose and fell with each labored breath. After a minute or two she pulled her legs under her and switched hands, letting this one trail lower than the other to stroke sublimely firm buttocks.
“Is your little outburst over?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Shepard answered through pants.
“You will behave yourself?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You realize you will be punished for that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But I do not wish to right now.” Samara hooked two fingers through the D-ring to pull her human up to be face to face. “No, right now I wish to take my pleasure from you.”
With a yank their lips met in a passionate embrace. Any time Shepard attempted to show any amount of dominance in the kiss or tried to grab for blue skin a tug to the collar corrected her. It took six such corrections before she learned her place and knelt obediently, letting the ancient tongue explore her mouth unhindered solely using her own to stimulate her owner’s.
Only when the asari felt the woman had showed the proper submission for long enough did she laid them both down. Samara leaned against the pile of pillows in the corner. Once propped upon her throne like a queen she severed the oral connection and guided the eager human lower, not letting go of her grip on the collar.
As if she were little more than a masturbatory aid Shepard’s mouth was moved across scaled skin; licking, kissing and nibbling everything presented to her. Slowly she was dragged down the throat to the clavicle and further on to the beginning swell of the breast. She wanted to continue the same trajectory, but a yank sent her veering to the sternum. Having learned her lesson she only used her hands to brace herself against the bed, keeping them safely wide of the asari’s gorgeous form.
For a few breaths Samara kept the nuzzling and lapping at the space in between her soft mounds testing the human’s self control. Not feeling any independent movements she pulled outward to the first hint of her right breast, taking a spiral route around the nipple until the nub was finally reached from below. Immediately wanting lips latched on, sucking deeply before lightly biting and gently flicking.
Shepard could have spent the rest of her life playing with the sensitive purple tip, but she was wanted elsewhere. Taking on a similarly indirect path, she was brought over to pleasure the other nipple. The hold on her collar remained ardent. With each ministration she could sense the asari relaxing further into the pillows until a final released sigh marked utter contentment.
It only took the slightest of downward tugs to get the woman to shutter in excited anticipation. There was no meandering, even if the pace was slow, to the next erogenous zone. Shepard wasn’t allowed to linger over the navel, only getting to swish her soft appendage around the rim and dip in once. The persistent pressure on her neck dragged her tongue across the flat shelf preceding the most divine place in the galaxy, as far as she was concern.
Lying down on her stomach, Shepard took a moment to build the anticipation up in her throat, nuzzling with her nose, before receiving her reward. She lapped along the outside if it like a lollipop for languishing minutes, not wanting to rush a thing. The fingers at her collar let go and slid along her cheek before coming to rest on the top of her head to pet the sweat dampened hair. Then with the pointed tip she flirted up and down the interior of the azure slit. Each swipe she put a touch more strength behind it until she tasted the inner lips. For several minutes more she used only her snaking tongue to worship her patient owner’s sex. Inevitably her attention focused at the small cluster of nerves at the top of the slit.
Pink lips enclosed Samara’s clitoris, applying tantalizing suction. As Shepard intensified her affections, the matriarch continued combing through the mop of hair, trying to loosen the matted bangs. With enough strands liberated she turned her eyes to the ceiling a moment before shutting them. The woman slowly built her orgasm with loving care; grateful that asari and human anatomy had so much in common.
Eventually the desire for release rose to need. Samara reached for the collar to regain control and pulled up the confused woman, having never been asked to stop giving cunnilligus before. No matter how long Shepard went down on her she wouldn’t reach the highest of heights with only physical stimulation. In the future she would leave the human between her legs, but this time, the first time, she wanted their gazes to meet.
Not understanding what was going on, Shepard found herself entwining legs with the asari. A thigh pressed between hers and she did not hesitate to rub against it. The added texture of tiny scales made the friction that much better. She wasn’t given enough time to settle in before the fingers still holding the ring of her collar yanked her into another smothering kiss. A possessive grip groped her undulating rear.
“Embrace eternity,” and everything became blue light.
When Shepard awoke, though she had no idea if she ever actually loss consciousness, she found herself still atop the matriarch. Fingers delicately brushed through her hair and across her shoulders. Her head cradled in Samara’s ample bosom. She stretched a bit before wrapping her arms around the body she rested on, hoping having her arms under the asari’s back didn’t cause any discomfort.
After relishing the embrace for a few minutes Shepard asked, “Did we just join?”
“Yes,” Samara answered to the bulkhead over them. “I thought you told me you had done it before?”
“Kind of, when I was having a Prothean message descrambled. Didn’t know joining could also do that.”
“You will be receiving plenty more lessons in joining and in asari physiology.”
“Can we start my next lesson now?” Shepard moaned before her mouth reached for a nipple to suckle.
Samara let the human play a little before she had to say, “Shepard, as much as I hate to admit; I am not as young as I used to be and need some time to recover.”
“What if I do all the work?” the young temptress asked with the sensitive nub still against her lower lip.
“Not even then.”
“Are you sure?” Shepard’s tongue flicked back and forth.
“I am.” The matriarch gave a small tug to the collar as a reminder. “Do not forget you already require punishment for your little stunt.”
The woman buried her face to contain a sudden burst of laughter, but still was able to get out, “You should have seen your face when I tore off my underwear.”
“Another word and you will sleep on the floor,” Samara threatened with a smile.
- 4
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- 6
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The Justicar's Dog of War