Dr. Chloe Michel

Shepard felt a shudder pass though his body as the cool bite of a combat stim hit his veins. The world stretched and slowed before his eyes, bullets cut sluggish paths through the air, grenades turned to confetti poppers and all around him enemies froze in place. They were in trouble, just like always. He'd gotten a tip that the owner of Chora's Den- a human named Fist -had been working for the Shadow Broker, and then flipped his loyalty to Saren. The man had information that they needed, only problem was there was an army of goons in between them and him. Tali was crouched down beside him, screaming in terror as the bullets pierced through the overturned table to pepper their shields. It wouldn't be long now.

Shepard heard a terrible roar from the entrance, the stream of bullets slowed then redirected. He risked a glace and was struck dumb by what he saw. The largest Krogan he'd ever seen was tearing through the place like a wrecking ball through birthday cake. He flung screaming mercenaries into walls with his biotics, blew bloody holes in them with his shotgun or simply tore them to pieces- one unlucky Turian he bit the face off! It was orgy of blood the likes of which Shepard had rarely seen, all in crystalized slow motion, courtesy of his ****. Shepard shouldered his rifle and bit off half a dozen bursts. Together they made short work of the remaining goons and then it was over.

"You here for the bounty?" The Krogan had a voice like gravel sliding over concrete. Those his eyes were curiously free of the Blood Rage so many of his kind succumbed to.

"Just here to ask some questions." Shepard had his rifle carefully pointed not quite at the alien, but close enough to change that in a hurry if need be.

"Good, I don't share credits." The Krogan looked at the reinforced door, beyond it, no doubt teaming with more mercenaries. He paused. "There is a saying among my people, a blade not pointed at your chest, need not cut you."

"My people have a similar saying." Shepard fought to keep his finger from squeezing the trigger, it was as if lightning was coursing through his veins. He **** his gun down to a safe position.

"Wrex." The alien clapped a fist against his chest, then spread his hand palm towards Shepard, his shotgun finally pointed at the floor.

"Shepard."

"Questions, huh? You're lucky I'm here, people tell me I have a way with words."

Second/hours/weeks later Fist was surrounded only by the bloody smears that used to be his men. The crunch caught up to Shepard and nearly threw him to the floor, waves of dizziness, nausea and pain wracked his body from head to toe; there was a reason Alliance Brass forbid the use of stims in the rank and file after all. Wrex meanwhile had picked up a bottle of rotgut whisky off Fist's desk, he took a slug, swirled it in his mouth then spit it over the cowering man below.

"Don't kill me!" Fist shrieked as they towered over him. "I surrender!"

"Where is Saren?"

"I don't know!" Fist whimpered.

Shepard looked at Wrex then stepped back. The Krogan dumped the remaining whisky all over Fist, hurled the empty bottle at the floor by his face. Shepard stepped back in as the man tried to brush bits of glass off his skin.

"Give me details about his operation." Shepard demanded.

"He doesn't tell me anything." Fist cried desperately, his eyes tracked past Shepard; Wrex had flicked a lighter open, the flame swaying with intention.

"He's no use to you. Let me kill him." Wrex said with a sadistic grin.

"Wait! Feros! There's something on Feros!"

"What is on Feros?" Shepard demanded.

"I don't know. It's the truth!" Fist babbled, the growing puddle in his pants lending some credence to his words. "We've been making supply runs there."

"What kind of supplies?"

"Slaves mostly, but also excavation machines, scientific equipment, whatever he asks for, we get!"

Shepard stepped back, he shot Garrus a questioning glance.

"It's a small world in the Attican Beta cluster." The Turian dutifully read off the extranet data entry. "New colony, limited population... extensive Prothean ruins. It certainly looks the part. You're a slaver?"

"Not in Citadel space, I'm not. Here I'm just a legitimate businessman. You're the ones who shot up my club.". He glared up at them, some part of his confidence back. "You want to get that gun out of my face?"

"Times like this I wish I was the kind of cop who did what was right, instead of what was legal." Garrus replied as he lowered his gun.

"Yeah well, if wishes and buts were candy and nuts..." Fist sneered as Wrex pulled him to his feet. "Are we done here?"

"Almost." Wrex replied, then he blew Fist away.

"What the hell are you doing!" Garrus roared, drawing his pistol.

"The Shadow Broker paid me to kill him. I don't leave jobs half done. Besides, you wanted him dead too." Wrex replied, completely unperturbed by the pistol mere inches from his eye.

"You shot an unarmed prisoner! There are rules to combat!"

"There is only one rule, Turian. Win, and you make the rules. I thought your race understood that."

"But you didn't win. We did. And he's not going to answer any more of my questions, is he?". Shepard said quietly.

"You got what you wanted, it was time for me to do the same.". Wrex announced as simply. "The only question now is do we need to settle things out between us, or not?"

Shepard sized up the Krogan. Up close he could see how many shells had punched though Wrex's armor to gouge the flesh underneath, he'd shrugged off a dozen lethal wounds like they were nothing. What would it take to stop a creature like this? "I'm not interested in another fight."

"A shame, all the pretty armor of yours could use a bit of blood on it." Wrex turned to go.

"If you're so interested in fighting, how'd you like to help us?"

"Saving the universe isn't my priority."

"But making credits is."

"I'm listening."

"Half a million, some foes worth killing and a place in the history books seems fair."

"Keep your histories." Wrex's eyes narrowed, but there was an undeniable interest on his face. "You pay up front. Unless you think a Krogan won't keep his word."

"That's ridiculous." Garrus muttered, though both warriors ignored him.

"Half a million, up front. And if you turn on me, it'll be your blood on this pretty armor." Shepard replied and stuck out his hand.

"Ha! Nice to meet a human with a quad." Wrex replied, before wrapping Shepard's hand in a vicelike grip.

"Garrus, take our new friend back to the ship, I'll meet you there." With the flash of adrenaline over, his thoughts were already drifting back to an familiar place, one he was uncomfortably familiar with.

Shepard groaned with resignation. It had been nearly a week since Gianna. A week of normalcy, a week being himself again. And yet, he had deluded himself, pretending not to notice the warning signs, the briefest flashes of red at the corner of his vision, the desires that slowly crept back into his thoughts. But they were growing too powerful to ignore. He'd peeped on Ashley in the shower, felt up Liara while he was 'comforting' her over her mother's ****. And now here he was again, rock hard and frustrated, out of excuses and **** to lighten the load in his balls. It was all too much, he needed to get his head clear. And he had some idea of just who could help him.

On the walk over to Dr. Chloe Michel's clinic, he told himself over and over again he was there for treatment, for her medical expertise, but the truth was he couldn't stop thinking about that mop of fiery red hair. It was burned into his memory; whipping around him as he'd tackled her to safety, silky smooth under his fingers as he soothed her after the frantic rush of combat. Did the carpet match the drapes? What would it feel like wrapped in his fist? He'd always heard, 'red on the head, fire in the bed' and now he just had to find out for himself. If she was willing, if he didn't cum in her, surely that wasn't so bad, right? Did it even matter? How was he ever going to fight if he couldn't focus? And how could he focus if his thoughts were consumed with...

"Commander!" The petite doctor exclaimed, her accent pinching the vowels ever so cutely. She was practically glowing. "Enchanté de vous voir!"

Her white lab coat flapped behind her as she raced over and wrapped him up in tight hug, even planted a kiss on each cheek. He knew she was grateful, Shepard hadn't just saved her life, he'd saved the clinic, her life's dream. Just how deep did that gratitude run...No! Shepard pried himself free.

"Sorry Doc, this isn't a social call. I need your help. It's ah... private issue."

"Of course." She said, before leading him to room at the back. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I came into contact with some Prothean technology a few weeks back, and ever since then I've had these urges. Like someone puts thoughts in my head."

"And you don't want the Alliance to know about this."

"I think I'm going crazy, but there's other symptoms too. And they tie together. I'm losing control of my body, doctor."

She took his hand in hers. "I don't know anything about Prothean technology, but if I can help you, I will. And your secret will never cross my lips."

Shepard begged to differ, he had a feeling that those lips would be stretched around and gagging on his 'secret' in mere-

He bit back a curse and pounded slapped his hand against his face. "Sorry." He groaned. "Where do you want me?"

"Disrobe and I'll examine you, then we can runs some scans."

He began pulling his clothes off before she even finished speaking.

"Wait wait!" Dr. Michel cried. "I'll give you some privacy."

"Sorry, Doc. Military rules. I'm not shy."

"Well, if you don't mind, I suppose it would save time..." Her eyes never left the sharp lines of Shepard's muscular torso as she spoke. He could see her tongue dart out to wet her lips. When he finally reached down to remove his pants, she wrenched her head away, flushing. "There is a gown next to you, you may wear."

Moments later he was covered again, though his hard cock jutted out nearly a foot from him, tenting the front of his gown ominously as he sat on the medical cot. Dr. Michel's eyes widened as she traced the shape. "C'est énorme."

"That's part of the problem, Doc."

"I see. She yanked her eyes away and proceed to examine him. She poked and prodded, measured and tested, all the while flushing and biting her lip, clearly distracted.

"I've been hard for almost two days." Shepard said at last, trying to break the awkward silence. "It's like I'm in reproductive overdrive."

"Have ... have there been.." Her eyes drifted down to his cock again then snapped back to her clipboard as she blushed furiously. "Uhh, lay back. I'm going to take it- your temperature!" She shut her mouth after that, working in silence over him, as she scanned, probed and tested. A few short minutes later she brought up a familiar looking set of charts.

"101.2. You're running hot." She looked troubled, no she felt troubled. Shepard felt the tenuous mental link between them form, even without a physical connection. Chloe had become a doctor to help people. She hated failing, not out the typical egoism rampant in her profession, but because so many of her patients depended on her. They needed her. And she needed to make them better. Only she just couldn't focus, not with that glorious member tantalizing her. How long had it been since she did something for herself? And really, he would feel better too! In a way, it was just another form of relief for a troubled patient. Her mouth watered just thinking about-

Shepard slammed the walls of his mind closed. He didn't like this thing rotting around in his head, changing what made him, him. Maybe there was a pill she could give him. Or a bullet.

"That's... odd." She studied a scan of his brain. "Your Thalamus, it regulates your body functions, particularly the ones we have no control over, like body heat, hunger cues..."

"Reproductive urges?"

She nodded. "It's as if your body has gone into heat, but there's no physical anomalies. Your hormone levels are basically normal. It's as if something has rewritten your bodies basic functions. I've never seen anything like it. It's fascinating, truly."

"Doc is there a medicine I could take or a procedure? I can't even think sometimes I feel so caught up."

"Shepard, there's nothing medically wrong with you."

"What about this!" Shepard growled as he yanked the gown off her front, only for his rampant erection to bounce free, nearly striking Dr. Michel in the face.

She breathed, her eyes drinking in the sight of his manhood. "How would it even ... fit?" She whispered.

"Doctor!" Shepard barked, snapping her out of her reverie. "I need your help!"

"Perhaps you could take care of the problem yourself?"

Shepard felt his patience stretch then snap at last. He needed relief. And he was going to get it. He dropped to the floor, tearing his flimsy gown off, his cock fully loaded and pointed at his target.

"You think I haven't I've tried that?!?" Shepard growled. "I've jerked myself raw and I still can't get relief! There's only one thing that works."

"Well what do you expect me to do?" She said.

He raised an eyebrow at her and almost laughed at her aghast expression. "Don't pretend you haven't been thinking about it since the moment I came in here."

She took a step back, trying to gain some distance, some space to think. He followed, his naked body like a lightning rod, drawing every bit of energy into them both.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to avoid looking at him. "How about a prescription and some rhythmic breathing exercises?"

"You've been drooling over my cock for the past hour." Another step for him and another for her.

"I was giving you a thorough examination. I'm a Doctor!" Her ass hit the wall, and his arm snapped up like an iron bar, blocking all escape.

"You're a slut who couldn't even do her job. So now you're going to do another job." He looked her up and down. "Bet you're wet."

"Shepard, please!" Chloe gasped as his hand traced a gentle line down her body, seeking her hidden core. She bit her lip, but stayed still. It was no use. They both knew the truth. Even through the barrier of her clothes, Shepard could feel the heat of her sex. She arched her back as he leaned into her, her eyes instinctively closing, her lips tingling for the kiss....

It didn't come.

Instead, Chloe felt the tug of her belt being loosened, heard the steady crinkle of her fly being unzipped and then the rush of fresh air around her thighs. Another tug and her pants were around her ankles. Shepard didn't bother taking off her thin cotton panties as he dropped to his knees, instead he pulled them aside as his mouth began to feast on her aching slit. He danced along the delicate folds, feather touches with the tip of his tongue, and playful licks perfectly targetted to make her weak in the knees. When he found her clit moments later, lights popped behind her eyes as her climax took her.

"Oui, Shepard! Mange mon minou!" She screamed her pleasure, uncaring if the patients in the main ward heard. Her legs turned to jelly after that and she collapsed into Shepard's arms.

When the world stopped spinning around her, Chloe found herself being carried gently to the cot. At last, their lips met, her hands clawing at the stubble of his scalp and dragging him close. As they pulled apart, he looked down at her rumpled top, his eyes silently asking if she wanted to continue. She nodded, her hands flying to pull the last bits of clothing off. **** to be as naked as him. To be naked with him.

"Tu m'excites." She murmured.

Shepard devoured her naked form. She was quite the delicious little pocket rocket. Smaller frame than most he'd coupled with, but with sizable curves that looked even larger on her petite build. He cupped a pale breast and savored her mewling response. Her hands glided down his shoulders, lingered appreciatively on his washboard stomach before lightly wrapping around his pole. It twitched in her hands, straining and swelling. Chloe couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction from the response. She was going to help him. That was what she did. She lay back in the cot, legs spread and ready. Shepard followed her down. His cock nestling into the mouth of her well prepared crevice.

"Are you ready?"

"Depuis le jour où je t'ai rencontré."

Shepard had no idea what she was saying, hearing her whisper in her native tongue had his cock harder than stone. He couldn't wait to drag more out of her. He gently nudged the lips of her pussy and sank halfway in. Her snug walls fought his every thrust, but her musical cries only made him more determined to go balls deep. He sawed his way into her depths, the outline of his cock was a visible bulge on the front of her stomach, reaching toward her navel as he worked he way deeper and deeper.

"You are small." He said.

"Tu es incroyable!" She moaned.

Shepard pulled her legs high, folding the good doctor in half like a lawn chair. He gripped her narrow hips and rammed home. His cockhead rested snugly against the barrier of her cervix with a few inches still outside. She groaned at every thrust that battered at her barrier, ecstasy and agony written across her face.

"Encore." She begged.

He pulled back and rammed again.

"Oui. Oui. Oui!" She screamed and clenched around him like a fist.

Chloe was a twitching mess. Her vagina was twitching and sore, and yet...

She wanted more.

She rolled to her hands and knees, head down, ass up, prepared to let him do what he wanted with her. Take what he wanted from her. It had been too long since she'd felt like this. Too many frantic days and lonely nights. She hadn't realized how much she needed to give up control, to let someone use her. And who better than the man who'd saved her life and her dream.

"Ride me, Shepard. Use me to get better."

He tugged her arm back as he thrust deep inside. His cock splitting her aching walls and ramming the end of her tunnel. He was far too large for someone like her. They were as mismatched as a hammer and rosebud. She pushed her hips back at him. Every thrust rammed at the gates of her womb, the swollen head twisting and pushing, trying to find entrance. Her clit was slapped by the heavy weight of his testes; the dangerous cargo inside no doubt **** to get out.

Her strength collapsed and she fell forward onto her stomach, but her lover didn't relent. He loomed above her, pounding away, hips slapping against her ass, a primal drumbeat to their relentless mating.

"Plus forte." She moaned, her body giving out. She lay there insensate as he kept going. They had been mating for over an hour. What would it take to make him cum? Would she even survive the process? She felt another orgasm rise within her. How many was that? She'd long since lost count. "Fais-moi jouir!"

Dr. Michel came again beneath him as Shepard pounded away. He felt his cock begin to swell, his balls tightening, it seemed his own climax was near at last. And none too soon, it was as if the Redness had had something to prove. 'Don't ignore us, or else'. They seemed to say. He wouldn't after this, he vowed. He'd fuck his way across the galaxy if he had too. The mission came first ... and so would he. He reached down and rolled one of Dr. Michel's nipples between finger and thumb, savoring the tired mewls of pleasure he wrung from her.

"Sorry about all this. You'll probably have trouble walking tomorrow...." He mused aloud.

"Je'laime."

"God damn that french is sexy. You're gonna make me cum, you know that?"

"Donne moi tout!" She cried. "J'en ai besoin!"

He rammed himself deep and exploded deep inside her, his hot cum splashing against her walls, seeping into her deepest crevices to leak dangerously in to her fertile womb. It kept coming and coming, squirting around the twitching mass of his cock, to spill down her thighs and ruin the sheets of the cot. 'Reproductive overdrive' indeed.

Later, much later, as he held her the spoke honestly, as only two people who had were truly connected could.

"Have there been many?" She asked.

"Just a few so far, but...."

"You're worried you don't know when it will cease."

"I don't like being out of control. It's like there's someone else in my mind."

"I can't help you Shepard. I don't know who could." She admitted, looking up at him. After the climax, he seemed tired. As if more of the man himself had flooded back to fill in the space left by the powerful urges he carried. "It would seem you've already found the only treatment that will be successful."

"So I'm just supposed to fuck my way through everyone I meet?"

"Is it such a curse? Many men would kill for such a 'burden'."

"It's a curse."

"Perhaps, or perhaps it could be something else."

"Like what?"

"A gift? A mission left behind by the Protheans? Whatever their reason for doing this, I doubt it was done on merely a whim. Like it or not, you have a destiny now, Shepard. A purpose. It's up to you to discover why and how."

He swallowed, his eyes finally darting down to her stomach, to the topic neither of them had yet broached.

"I'll take a pill Shepard. You needn't worry."

"What about all the others? This thing only shuts up if I try to breed."

"Contraceptives are rather widespread these days Shepard. You're not going to get anyone pregnant, unless..."

"Unless?"

"You may find some women welcome a chance to be a part of your destiny. Or maybe they just want a child with humanity's greatest hero."

"What if whatever is inside me...infects.... what if the child isn't..."

She gingerly got to her feet, cum leaking down her thighs as her aching body staggered over to a nearby chart. "Your DNA scan." She pointed to a seemingly normal stream of letters. "You're you, Shepard. But if you're truly worried, I could always have you chemically castrated."

"Maybe that's what I deserve."

"You didn't **** me, if that's what you're concerned with Shepard." She smiled. "Or hurt me. At least, not any more than I wanted you to."

He chuckled, finally a small measure of self loathing left his brow.

"Oh good, you're laughing. Now would you be truly offended if I asked you to leave? I want to clean up and I have the feeling you're needed elsewhere."

Dr. Michel, gave him a kiss on the cheek, a strangely friendly gesture, considering how intimate they'd just been and shooed him out the door, his mind already occupied with her words. Was she right? Was all this for a purpose? And did that mean he should stop fighting the inevitable? Could he work with the Red, come to understand it, perhaps even use it for his own mission? He caught sight of a pretty girl with oriental features trying to flag him down.

"Commander Shepard. Commander Shepard!"

One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to have to look far for volunteers.