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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
“What do we know?”
Samara kept watching the floors tick by above the elevator door as she answered, “The only information I have been given is that it is a hostage situation involving a human cargo ship that is still in the station’s port.”
“You’re usually more on top of these things, ma’am,” the respectful title used with a hint of sarcasm.
“It was a last minute request,” the ancient asari took note of the tiny, hint of false disrespect.
Samara knew without question that Shepard had nothing but love and respect for her. The woman couldn’t help herself though when the chance to tease arose. The fact that such comfort existed despite the uneven nature of their relationship pleased the asari to no end. Still she had to wonder if there was some fishing for punishment. She didn’t really know enough about the infiltrator’s desires, kinks or limits. Simply asking wouldn’t guarantee a straight answer, plus that wouldn’t be near as much fun as trial and error. So, she recently began research into finding out by lifting the ban on masturbation and then monitoring extranet activities.
The door slid open as a computerized voice announced their arrival at traffic control for the moderately sized station on the edge of asari space. The place was bustling with activity as officials, security and engineers tried to come to a resolution for a horrible situation. Through the clear wall overlooking the port the ship in danger could be seen front and center. A ring of armed guards surrounded the vessel as snipers trained their sights on every exit point. In the background a pair of patrol ships loomed to cut off the only real escape route.
The Justicar, though she hesitated to label herself that any longer, asserted herself, “Who should I be speaking with?”
A matron approached, “Salidin S’Rayu, it is an honor Justicar Samara. Thank you for coming.”
“You are welcome. Now tell me the situation.”
“A group of lightly armed turians tried hijacking an Alliance freighter hauling food to Cyone, but one of the crew got away and alerted us before they could get away. So they took the crew hostage and started making demands.”
“What are their demands?” Samara asked.
“Food: The crewperson that got away reported seeing some of the perpetrators vomiting behind a crate. They basically want to exchange food they can’t eat for food they can,” the asari in charge stated with pity in her voice. “We could send in an assault team. I don’t think the turians will actually hurt anyone, but I don’t really want them to get hurt either.”
After a moment’s thought Shepard removed her helmet and stepped forward, “Open a channel to the ship.”
“Ma’am?” the operator turned to his superior who nodded consent.
“This is Commander Shepard.”
Almost immediately a distinctively turian voice responded, “Commander Shepard? As in…”
The galactic savior interrupted, “As in THE Commander Shepard. Put down your weapons and come out. You will be arrested and taken to jail where you will be fed and you will notify the authorities of the whereabouts of any others in need of assistance, which they will receive. You will serve your time in prison, but if you plead guilty you will receive leniency... Or I can come over there and try to beat my personal best of four inches of boot buried up a turian’s ass.”
A brief silence followed to confirm the obvious choice. “We’re coming out.”
“Are you really her?” Salidin asked with reverence.
“Oh no, just a lie to get them to come out,” Shepard lied as she slipped her helmet back on. “I’m sure she wouldn’t want the publicity entailed in getting involved with something like this. Even if she were very glad to be of help.”
“Understood.” The matron nodded, adding, “Still, if you were her, I would be supremely honored to have met you.”
“Well too bad I’m not, but if I ever do meet her I’ll pass along your kind words,” the human said with a wink before heading to the lift.
It took only two floors alone in the elevator before Samara asked, “If it were anyone else I would not bother, but have you ever really done that to a turian?”
“Once, but she asked me real nice,” Shepard smirked.
“You were involved with a turian?” the question sounding rather serious.
“Just joking, ma’am,” the human tried matching tones.
Turning her head to look upon her young pet Samara inquired, “How many romantic relationships have you been in?”
Becoming a touch self-conscious, the woman answered, “Two or three.”
“Is it two or three?”
“Can I count you?” she looked over as she ventured.
“Of course.” A soft smile on violet lips.
“Then two, but I have had quite a few one-night stands and passionate encounters,” Shepard explained in a poor attempt to compete with a millennia of experience.
“What about your LNT box?”
There was a noticeable blush as the woman had to admit, “I bought most of that stuff with the hope of being used more than anything else.”
To spare any further embarrassment Samara changed subjects, “We still have a few days of work ahead of us in order to break up the smuggling ring, so your reward will have to wait. I hope you can hold out that long.”
“I’ll manage somehow, ma’am.”
Both proved themselves correct as three days passed before they returned to the ship and Shepard kept her urges well under control. Back at home, as they now fully knew it to be, they went about their normal routines. The woman took Samara’s submachine gun down the hatch with her to the lower deck that consisted of a sole, white room that doubled as their armory and staging area. The space was large enough to accommodate a small, salarian STG so plenty of empty weapon lockers lined the walls. Shepard did a quick check of the automatic weapon before stowing it. Then she gave the once over to her own weapons: a pair of pistols, a submachine gun, a few explosives she kept on hand and finally a slight oddity, her shotgun. She then paused to wait for the next task.
In short order a call from above notified her to ready at the bottom of the ladder. As Samara drifted from her Justicar Code, she lowered her esteem for the red armor of the noble calling. So Shepard had started storing it alongside all the other tools of combat. Catching the pieces that fell was an easy enough task if not for the fact the matriarch didn’t bother to redress before dropping them. Sight of the curvaceous, blue skin always proved distracting, but she managed to finish the job without incident. Though she did linger to look up at the asari who hadn’t immediately step away.
When Samara’s moment lost in thought ended she noticed the leer from below and closed the hatch with a bemused shake of the head. She only had to turn around to find the locker that her new outfits occupied. It had been centuries since she last shopped for clothing so she gave the task to Shepard, which ended up being a poor decision. Nothing the woman bought could be worn outside the ship. Flowing robes, short kimonos and sheer nightgowns packed her bit of storage space.
Picking a red kimono that left her legs bare from mid-thigh down the asari accidently kicked the box at the bottom of her locker. She almost forgot the other items Shepard had purchased. Since first seeing the flower print peeking from under the woman’s shirt she had begun to grow some affection for lingerie, but seeing her human in them and wearing them herself were entirely different things. Maybe a special occasion would warrant them one day.
In the cockpit Samara slid into the sole command chair to check for mail from her sources. The original design of the salarian vessel built for long-term, surveillance missions called for a co-pilot position, but Shepard had its removal in the list of special modifications she wanted done to the ship. She knew the seat wouldn’t ever be used and thought it better to have the extra space, which unintentionally led to the ritual for rewarding the woman.
Samara had sent a few responses when she was joined by the only other soul aboard. Her focus stayed with composing a message to a huntress she had known for several decades. Only when she had proofread it twice and entirely reworded the final paragraph, did she turn to the woman standing at attention beside her. Dressed in standard-issued shirt, pants and boots Shepard looked like any soldier in off hours if not for the d-ring adorn collar around her neck.
Reclining in her comfortable seat the matriarch casually commented, “I do not believe I summoned you.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” Shepard unsure what to do now as it wasn’t her brain that compelled her to come to the cockpit.
“Is there something you require?”
“Uhhh…” She had no idea how to answer.
The mature asari didn’t make it easier, “If there is no reason for you to be here, then perhaps you should go find something to do.”
“There is a reason…” Shepard trailed off.
“And what would that be?”
After a second’s hesitation she puffed her chest, squared her shoulders and stated, “I’m here for my reward, ma’am.”
It was hard not to chuckle at the woman’s serious tone. So to make sure they didn’t get out, Samara didn’t vocally respond, she simply grabbed Shepard’s belt. She gave a tug to get the woman a little closer before bringing in her other hand to release the buckle and fly. Her eyes flicked down to see what the zipper had been protecting a moment ago. Ever since her pet started wearing a wider range of undergarments a new joy of discover had been added to their little ritual. At first glance she couldn’t identify what she was looking at so she hooked the pants to lower them a bit further. The chuckle then escaped.
“Is that a bear?”
“Teddy Bear; to be exact, ma’am,” Shepard said through a thin smile.
Two blue, fingers took hold of the ring on her collar as another pair slipped into the already moist warmth between her toned legs. Like a good girl, Shepard kept her hands clasped behind her back even as she was pulled forward into a kiss. A familiar palm cradled her, kneading the most sensitive of her flesh while a knowing tongue penetrated her mouth. The grip on her neck moved up to entangle in her hair. Just as she felt a digit playing along the slit a chime interrupted the mood.
The sound indicated a priority mail had arrived and Samara knew she couldn’t ignore it. She ended the kiss, allowing the human to straighten up. Their gazes got lost in one another’s a moment before the asari turned away. When she then felt her young pet start to pull away she tightened her grip on the delicate genitalia and slid a pair of fingers inside. Her eyes shifted to one of the side screens, easily splitting her focus between stimulating and reading; especially since the message was so short.
-We need to speak. When can we set up a real-time link?
Samara started to type a reply, but found the pose unwieldy as the keyboard was on the complete other side from Shepard, stretching her arm span to the limit. Unwilling to give up either task, she turned back to retake her hold of the collar. The kiss rekindled a moment before she guided the human further on. She released her other hand’s grasp so she could pull her pet across her lap.
Having never been in this position before it took a minute of adjusting and readjusting to find a comfortable position lying on the soft thighs. To Shepard’s relief once she had settled in she felt the back of her pants being yanked down. She heard another small laugh when Samara saw the larger version of the cartoon character on her tush. The pair of firm muscles still mostly covered in cotton got some loving rubs and a pair of pats before being fully exposed.
With the little bit of dew still clinging to her fingers Samara wrote asari words of love on the meaty buttocks. Absentmindedly her other hand drifted along Shepard’s spine until it reached soft locks of hair. When she felt the tangle of strains it seemed so natural to start stroking them. Her revelry wouldn’t last as long as she like for soon her insatiable pet gave impatient wiggles to her hips. A warning slap got stillness.
As the matriarch swiveled her chair toward the screen her fingers delved into the human’s excited pussy. She had to smile as a satisfied moan radiated from behind the mop of hair her hand now had to leave. Continuing to stimulate the woman across her lap she turned her attention to the short message from an unspecified source, though she knew who sent it. Only one person she regularly communicated with masked themselves so completely. Usually they weren’t so obtuse so she needed more information before fulfilling the request.
-What is the emergency? I will not divulge my location without a proper reason.
The urgent one out of the way, Samara couldn’t help but refocus on the creature she had squirming on her fingers. Her desire to bring about a conclusion low, she lazily massaged the pink, inner walls of her pet. The minor effort her task took allowed her mind to wander off to a tangent she had been considering awhile. She used her free hand to further spread Shepard’s cheeks apart to get a look at the puckered hole hidden between. With only her fingers at play in the moist folds her thumb was free to rub over and around the rear entry.
It took a second for Shepard’s blissed out mind to register the probing of her ass. When she felt the tip of the exploring digit make a faint intrusion her body flinched and her buttocks flexed. It seemed that was enough to dissuade Samara, who retreated, for now. She only eased when a loving hand began to caress the back of her head and she heard a soothing shhh. Her mood hadn’t really dipped, but still it found new heights as she recognized the absurdity of being hushed like a scared puppy and greater absurdity of how much she enjoyed it. Just as she fully fell into the moment that annoying chime rang again.
-I received intel on the situation three days ago that you were involved with. I know she is with you. I want to talk to her.
Samara’s brow furled and her ministrations grew in intensity as she thought. Her unoccupied digits drummed along the human’s rear. She knew a great number of people would want to know the location of the former commander which is why she took such care in keeping it a secret. Though most only wanted to give their thanks, Shepard didn’t need any more medals, accolades or praises. That was part of the reason why the woman was across her lap happily lost in a lust fueled world.
Before she could decide what to type, the matriarch felt the body in her clutches stiffen and the grip on her hand tighten. Her eyes went momentarily black as she sent a psychic pulse to launch Shepard into a greater stratum of climax. The instantaneous, precise melding fogged the perceptions of time, so its length was of little consequence to the recipient. A pleasant sensation rebounded back to her as the woman came, giving her a nice, little, sexual buzz. It wasn’t a trick some young, inexperienced maiden could pull off.
Samara raised her fingers to the light to see them shine and give the limp Shepard a modicum of time to recover, but not enough. She persuaded the groggy woman off her lap by the collar. With a whine the weight left her thighs to stand up, but before the spine could straighten she gave a tug downward. Pants around ankles and panties at mid-thigh she guided her pet to kneel beside the chair.
The matriarch presented her slick hand. “You have soiled my fingers, clean them.”
A smile broadened Shepard’s face as she reached out her tongue to lap her own juices from the asari’s scaled skin. With one long lick she traveled from wrist to nail. Then she let a digit into her mouth to suck away the moisture. She took equal care with each appendage, even the ones that weren’t previously inside her. Once every one was cleaned to her satisfaction she brought three together to slip between her lips to pleasure as if they were a small phallus.
- I can assure you she is fine. I do not believe your request warrants real-time communications. I have other matters to attend to so do not expect another response for at least fourteen hours.
Samara removed her fingers from the eager mouth to check the work of her pet. There was still a shine so she used the human’s matted hair to dry them as well as to simply enjoy the pleasure in stroking the locks. In the tranquil moment their eyes met; the trusting adoration in Shepard’s was disarming, but also reassuring. All that seemed to matter at times like this was making this woman as happy as possible and given what made the woman happy it was hard not to get excited herself. So with her free hand she undid the loose knot holding together her short kimono.
When the fabric fell away she spread her thighs a touch and looked down at her mostly nude form. “It seems you have caused another part of my body to become soiled. You will have to clean it as well.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Shepard didn’t waste a second before scurrying to in front of her owner, but was stopped by a raised hand.
After a brief appraisal Samara ordered, “Pull your little bear back up.”
The kneeling woman tugged her cotton briefs back up.
“Take off your shirt.” The asari’s big toe grazed up and down a bare thigh.
The top was pulled up and off, revealing Shepard’s soft bust.
Samara studied the exposed body an agonizing minute before adding, “Might as well finish shedding your pants.”
The woman easily kicked away the article, leaving just her age-inappropriate underwear.
The matriarch rolled her head back and forth a couple times as if she had something to consider. “Alright, begin your task.”
Shepard immediately dove forward. The luscious thighs separated a little further to better accommodate her. Ten fingers combed through her hair to the back of her head to pull her tightly into the junction. She took a deep inhale to absorb the heavenly scent before dragging her tongue along the warmth. Obviously she didn’t need to be held in place and the grip soon slipped away. The muscles surrounding her relaxed with a prolonged sigh.
“You will be down there until I finish my correspondences, so pace yourself.” Samara gave a last pat to the head before moving the keyboard into easy reach.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Justicar's Dog of War