Renegade Shepard: Liara

Liara bloomed with color as Shepard took in the spectacular sight of her, the taut and immaculate cheeks of her cerulean ass divided by rich, orange panties of raw silk. With an uncharacteristic tenderness, a gentleness, she felt his massive fingers pinch the waistband of these and shimmy then loose, gently insinuating them downwards and clear of her holes.

"Do you wear filthy whore-cunt panties like these every day? On a military vessel?"

Liara trembled with shame, turning back over her shoulder. They locked eyes. She gulped, and nodded.

The delicious, slippery sensation of Shepard's glans sliding up and down her labia coaxed another deep, ragged moan from the scientist. He teased her scornfully, swishing at her lips this way and that, drawing beads of her sticky, smooth juice from her contracting purple cunt. Both of Liara's clitori were swelling in anticipation, rhythmically expanding and contracting as the adrenaline coursed through her body and into her brain. She willed herself not to push back with her hips, before abruptly losing the battle. She thrust back at him possessively, and the Commander's swollen mushroom popped inside.

Liara sobbed as the thickness of him stretched her wide, the swollen ridge underneath him dragging her lips inward and tormenting her nubs. A trickle of her fluid ran down the left side of her cunt, streaming down and down until she could feel its sweet wetness on her upper thigh. Shepard's rough hands clamped on her hip and the back of her neck, forcing her off of her hands and flat against the table. The titanium edge dug into the front of her thighs as his fingers dig deeper into her tender, panicked flesh. He leaned down over her, possessing her, unholy in the act of mounting her, his bruised and wounded body hard as rocks from head to toe, and he taunted her.

"Good girls don't rock their hips back into me. Bad little sluts do that. Sluts who want their cunnies to slurp up my cock. Are you a little blue slut, Liara? Are you a filthy, blue-cunt whore?"

Liara's humiliation pulled her two directions at once, the heady euphoria at being pleasured and used working opposite the plummeting sensation of Shepard's hideous degradation. A tear run down her check as she gasped and groaned. Her eyes shut tight as he forced his enormous organ further into her, splaying the walls of her cunt wider. The doctor tried hard to relax, to open the walls of her sleeve entirely, but it was hard. Her vagina contracted involuntarily every time his meat shifted inside her, seeming to panic itself.

Shepard rumbled satisfaction as he began swinging his hips into her, feeling the delicious smoothness and coarseness of her secret place. He'd done an Asari before, but it had been years and he'd been quite drunk. He hadn't recalled the subtle, yet precipitous ridges of flesh that lined the Asari vagina, dragging deliciously over his taut frenulum. He couldn't remember getting this hard. Not in years.

Liara was gasping, grunting, as he forced his tool deeper and deeper inside. She wailed as the final few centimeters glided inside, stretching the length of her cunt beyond anything she had ever experienced. And then, he stopped.

Liara breathed deeply, struggling to adjust. The hairs on the Commander's scrotum were rubbing fiendishly at her clits as he waited there motionless, holding his cock still but entirely inside. She did a Kegel, trying to slide her cunt over his tool instead, and earning herself a sharp, stinging slap on her cheek instead. She cried out weakly, and froze again. She had no idea what he wanted.

His voice, base and bass and exploitative, filled her in. "Tell me."

Liara's mind flitted this way and that, wondering what to say. Her cunt ached and longed to be ridden, to be satisfied, and she wondered vaguely if she would get what she craved. In the end, she could do nothing but speak the truth.

"I love your penis. Your cock."

Shepard waited, glowing and maleficent, for her to continue.

Liara swallowed again, feeling the succulent aroma of his seed still in her throat. "Please fuck my cunt with your huge cock."

Shepard growled animalistically down at her. "That's my blue-whore cunt. Not yours."

Liara reeled with shame, and repeated. "Please fuck your blue-whore cunt with your huge cock."

"And what else do you say?"

Liara searched her mind haphazardly, distractedly, for what more he could want, and then suddenly perceived.

"Sir."

"Very good." Shepard dug his fingers into her neck again, forcing Liara's head down on the table. "Now again. All."

"Please fuck your blue-whore cunt with your cock, Sir."

And he did.

Liara gasped and groaned with insurmountable pleasure as Shepard's thrusting resumed in earnest, full, muscular runs of his stiff member into her secret place. She sobbed as she felt her own climax rapidly approaching, shamed at the prospect of cumming right in front of the Commander, shamed at the prospect of having the last shred of dignity stripped away, shamed of being reduced to a quivering, pleasure-drunk animal, a bitch in heat, insinuating herself over and over again on this monster's turgid prick, drawing him out of himself, and becoming a receptacle for the pleasure of a monster.

Liara considered all of this, exalting, despairing, and then she came.

Liara's breath hitched, stalled, then ceased entirely as her impossibly powerful orgasm overcame her. It began internally, deep in her abdomen in an unfamiliar place, and then radiated outwards, rhythmic pulsations zigging and zagging outwards, her cunt only a passing point of transit as her body dumped a sleuth of energy up and out in every direction. She was distantly aware of her vagina contracting in time with the waves before being transported elsewhere entirely, flung bodily from the corporeal world to a psychic and spiritual place in which every worldly concern was as finite and inconsequential as life itself. She felt herself dispossessed of everything, drowning in a luminous pool of pleasure, buffeted this way and that in the raucous, insouciant ocean of euphoria.

And overhead, surmounting and consuming and subsuming all, a great lambent eye.

Liara came back to herself in disjointed, drunken fragments. Her mind perceived one angle of the Medbay, and then another. She felt a hot, thick, sticky sensation deep inside, and purred in ecstasy at her revelation. The Commander had inseminated her. He had marked her as His. She was His.

Shepard's voice bored into her fragmented mind. She wasn't sure if she was hearing his words or feeling them.

"Let me make this perfectly, crystally, clear. You've overstepped your bounds, Doctor. You're on notice. As of right this minute, you are going to throw yourself, body and soul, into every order I give. On this ship or off it. When I say suck, you will sprint over here and suck harder than you ever thought possible. When I call you to my quarters, you will be there with alacrity, wearing something nice and bearing gifts. You are mine now. Entirely mine. You can keep up your paleontology on the side, but that is a part-time project only. Your primary function is servicing your Commander. Starting right now. Anything and everything I ask of you. Is any part of what I've said unclear?"

Shepard's rough, battle-hardened fingers dug into the delicate skin under Liara's chin. Slowly, deliberately, maintaining eye contact, she shook her head "No," pledging her total acquiescence. In all things.

"I am yours."

"Dismissed."

Shepard pulled a robe on and stumped out of Medbay. There was ryncol in the garage, if Wrex was there.

Liara slid to the floor, surrounded by the smashed vials and slides. She noted Dr. Michel's broken electron microscope to her left. She drew her knees to her chest, hesitantly, feeling the Commander's warm, creamy, pearlescent human seed beginning to dribble out of her ravaged hole.

The plan had worked.

Liara smirked, hiccuped, and began to giggle.

*Author's note:

I hugely enjoyed the Mass Effect series, and always daydreamed about writing some fan fiction. I don't own these characters. In this context, they are a fair use parody written by an adult for adults.

I played through the games several times, but I always got the most enjoyment from being bad maleshep. I started imagining the possibilities of a true Renegade's in-universe romances. It seemed to me that an aggressive love life and multiple partners were in keeping with the Renegade Shepard essence, so that's what I wrote. The possibilities seemed very juicy: a broken man with a penchant for domination and an underlying attitude of despair and PTSD underpinning many sleeping and waking moments. I got that impression especially in Mass Effect 3's recurrent nightmare sequence.

Before you ask, yes, I played femshep as well. Those stories are coming, if you want them.

Why Mass Effect? It's simply one of the most engrossing franchises ever made. It's a series of games which pulled you inexorably further and further in. Everything about the universe they created is captivating. Its signature feature is the irreproducible emotional connection the player feels for the in-game comrades in arms. I haven't played a game I've enjoyed so much since.

Thanks for reading.

Tentatively planned works:

Shepard and Miranda—degradation.

Shepard and Tali

Shepard and Diana Allers

Shepard and Morinth

Shepard (F) and hanar

Shepard (F) and Garrus

Shepard and Liara, chapter 2

Shepard and Ashley

Shepard and James

Shepard and Kelly

Shepard and EDI—erotic subroutines.

Shepard and Jack—hatefuck.