Side Story - A willing component

Shepard blinked awake in equal relief and misery. She had been anxious when she had fallen asleep the night before, fearful that at any moment the reconstructed reality around her could crack away. That some minor malfunction could occur, or that the experience waking up in Cerberus's arms would be an artifact of a previously undiscovered flit of consciousness before her mind died in orbit of that solemn world she had named inappropriately. Perhaps it still could, all of this being just a hallucination as her mind flung her consciousness forward across an infinite number of lives, sparing her the moments of panic before sinking irretrievably into the brutal and unflinching maw of the darkness that had waited beyond. That impenetrable black moment, equal parts a second and a century-long.

The fear still remained, of course, perhaps it always would, but freed from the weight of fatigue it was distant, possible to ignore. Now there were the pains of the body, the machinations of a hundred ticking clocks and hungry bodies, trained from the birth of man's existence to seek their self-perpetuation above all else.

In most of these, a familiar feeling. She could go for some bacon and a nice over-medium egg on toast. Coffee too, lots and lots of coffee.

There were other sensations and hungers in her body she would have had a far harder time describing, both ones familiar if indistinct and ones truly alien. She missed the ways things were, that irretrievable state of past where the seal has been broken and could never be returned to. To see Kaidan again, Jenkins again, her parents again. The desire to rise from her bed and do something, the usual restless semi-hunger for the pains and lusts of life. To see them, smell them, taste them.

Perhaps lusts of life in more ways than one...

She stirred, grumbling happily in her still-dreary state. The bed was warm, comfortable. Cerberus had done well to provide for her, make her comfy. She wasn't going to be bought, certainly, but one could certainly prop enough cushions around her to make her hear reason. And, judging by the fact that this felt like proper earth comfort and not some military cot, the cushions were being propped indeed. The pillow underneath was plush, made of an asari material capable of being permanently warm or cool, in inverse to the room around it. The room around her was cool enough for the pillow to feel like warm sand. It, with the heavy blankets, had her softly baking but not at the point of sweat. It was a marshmallow kind of heaven and hell, and it made her stretch in bed, feeling the tight hospital gown stretch and cross gently over her skin and make little excited bolts shoot to the already growing hunger twisting her crotch in knots.

And that's where the familiarity ended.

There was the usual deep-burning and itching hunger, but it didn't add to the right amount. Her lower body still felt waterlogged, making the sensations seem like they were happening a world away, but one thing won out above all. Pressure.

She stirred, half-opening one eye and looking down the blankets to see a small tent between her legs, where a cock would be if she had one. One of her hands crept down slightly and slowly, taking hold of an immensely hot rod of meat in her hands.

"Well, that's a cock."

Her hand on it only made the pressure worse, that slow-building wall of feeling now greeted by the firm but cool grasp, squeezing it as blood went rushing in. She could feel it extending, unfurling, scraping against the gown and then, free of that, the sheets. It tented them impressively by the time the pressure had built to diminishing returns, a red-hot and distracting fullness extending from her crotch. Dropping her hand down, there were a pair of heavy mounds at the base, somehow even hotter, and the touching of whom only made the pressure worse. Her other hand draped lazily to her breast.

"Cock and tits, is this some sort of dream?"

It was unshakably real, but it may as well have been. She craned her neck slightly, reaching under and unfastening the string of the medical robe. With it unfastened, she was able to slide out of the robe entirely, letting the now slightly grating piece of cloth fall to the floor. Her skin touched warm sheets, not losing an iota of heat in the comfy cocoon. Her cock still tented impressively against the sheets. When she grabbed them on either side of her navel and pulled the sheets down, she pressed the massively hot shaft against her torso, marking how long the outline in the sheets was against her body. It was an implement impressive enough to border on garishness, and the feeling of soft skin on one side and tight-pulled sheets on the other made it feel almost painfully hard, the pressure only mounting the more she half-played with it without pleasing it.

"Dream or not, what are you waiting for? Permission?"

She let the sheets go and her cock sprang back up. She slowly reached one of her hands to the rod and took it in her palm again, feeling the return of pressure at the sensation of the tight-wrapping of her slender fingers. With slow motions, she tried pulling back the skin on the head and letting it slide back into place. The result was immediately almost hypnotically pleasing. She kept promising herself that each new stroke would be the last one, that she would experiment with some new sensation, but she still kept going, feeling the pressure separate. Becoming a stiff and persistent hardness in the shaft and the burning and building desire for release in the balls.

When she felt a familiar breathless electricity starting to threaten inside of her, she finally managed to jerk her hand away, leaving the cock to twitch and leak as it jerked dejectedly.

"Sorry bud, but if this is a dream, I'm gonna have my fun with it before it ends."

She reached over across the bed, grabbing the extra pillow from beside her head. She slowly sank it under the covers, then rolled onto her stomach, propping herself on her elbows and knees. She lined her body up, setting the pillow on the bed underneath her and sliding her cock between the bed and the pillow. Immediately, as the fabric shifted to the environment, she was met with the contrast of cool fabric on the top of her cock and warm fabric on the bottom. She shifted again, opening her legs wide to get a good stance, then started to make slow grinding thrusts between the two soft constraints.

The bed-pussy was both warm and cool, soft and highly frictive, dry and then wet as she pumped more and more and precum soaked into it. The soft cloth would grate almost painfully on her sensitive skin as the head of her cock would pull back thrusting in, then pull it softly back around it and stroke her with velvety fabric as she pulled out. She shifted again, sitting up to press down on the pillow with both hands, increasing the pressure and letting the blankets slide off of her in the process.

The room's air was cool, cool enough to be a shock on her skin and raise goosebumps, but not to make her stop. The busy in and out work of the now excruciatingly tight hole she had made for herself was all she could focus on, feeling the bottom of her now screaming balls scrape against the fabric with each forward drop of her hips. The pillow shifted slowly from cool to warm, leaving her consumed by the warm and soft hole as she pumped frictively into it. Even as a shuddering and almost frightening level of threatened to pop within her.

Her new anatomy meant that she didn't realize the peak when she circled it; and she didn't slow down for a second until suddenly, her vision went pure white. She felt the pressure burst forth suddenly, uncontrollable in the face of her self-pleasure, and come spraying out like a tapped faucet into the pillow and sheets that surrounded her. It came in massive, shuddering explosions, jerking her from gritted teeth and wheezes into gasps before the next spray hit. She almost fell forward, pressing the pillow down into the bed and squeezing her cock tight in the warm softness with her weight. It felt like each individual glob had to its way out, and did so twice as powerfully as it needed to, leaving her whimpering from the sensation. It was completely overwhelming, her hips half-bucking as the of each pump grew weaker, leaving only the tingling numbness in her cock and the blissful emptiness in her balls. When it had finally subsided, she lay for a moment with her body still pressed on the pillow, her cock refusing to go down surrounded by soft and wet warmth. She blinked, eyes closing again.

When her eyes opened again, she staggered to her feet. The wet patch on the pillow and sheets underneath her had gotten cold, soaking its way in and leaving only a damp patch. The stains extended up from the pillow midway down the bed all the way up to the pillow she had slept on, seemingly no piece of fabric on the bed had been fully spared. The pillow and sheets near where she had made her pleasure device got the worst of it, and there was enough there to still pool in the indent of her body weight. Standing up from the bed, she could feel some of her own juices drying crustily even as far up as her chin. Her cock was soaked in strong-smelling and semi-dried cool spunk.

"So, not a dream, and very messy."

She lowered a hand to her slick cock, lifting the now-flaccid cock in her hand. Even with the mood thoroughly un-sexy, the presence of any touch seemed to excite something in her.

She stripped the bed, dumping everything that she could dump into the laundry chute. It still wasn't enough, of course, so she ultimately turned the mattress over to hide what couldn't be cleaned by a washing machine, then fumbled her way through the still-dim new quarters into the private shower.

...

Miranda stepped back into her office after a visit to the Comms room, likely to meet with the Illusive Man, and found Shepard sitting in the guest seat. How long the commander had been waiting, she wasn't sure. She was also surprised that the commander was not sitting behind her desk, making what would be an ill-fated attempt to rummage through her heavily encrypted files. In fact, the Commander smiled at her, almost innocently.

"Oh, hello commander, did I keep you waiting?"

"Not really, I was just wondering if you wanted to have dinner together."

Miranda kept walking to her desk, but her face froze. "Like, now?"

"Yeah, unless you already ate."

"No, I just didn't... plan on having one, I have a lot of work to do today."

"Come on, it'll be fifteen minutes, thirty at most."

"Our records didn't indicate you would be a bad influence."

"Come on, it's just dinner."

...

Real food, not replicated or an MRE, was a rare treat on long voyages. Good real food was rarer. Not only had Shepard talked her into cracking open some "special occasion" snacks and provisions, but she had also managed to goad the Cerberus officer into a glass of wine. Cracking open her personal selection hadn't been something Miranda had intended to do any time soon, but she also hadn't counted on Shepard ever being this friendly or forward. It wasn't an opportunity she would waste, carrot or stick, she needed Shepard to see things her way.

"So, even if you don't like Cerberus, I can hope you at least see the value in what we want to get done here." Miranda finished.

Shepard's eyes remained locked on her, even as she swallowed a mouthful of food and responded flatly. "Yeah, no problem."

Miranda froze, a forkful of food halfway to her mouth. When she finally found the words, she replied halfheartedly, "Just... just like that? No-fuss?"

"Realistically," Shepard returned casually, "My experience with Cerberus has been less than great in the past, but you clearly have a reason to exist in the Alliance. Even if I disagree with how the organization does business, the threat is real enough that I'm not going to say no."

Miranda slowly finished the process of raising her fork to her mouth and chewed without breaking her stare at Shepard. "Is this some sort of... joke?"

Shepard looked at her confusedly, "Did you expect a bunch of pouting and harsh words?"

"Well, yes, to be blunt."

Shepard sat there placidly, no hint of a joke to her face. "Like I said, even if I don't agree, there are clearly bigger issues here than grudges, even well-earned ones."

Miranda cleared her throat, "Right, and on the matter of Admiral Kahoku-"

Shepard waved her off, "Not your crime to answer for. I may take your boss to task on it someday, but I'd rather see his family safe than chase vengeance."

Miranda set down her silverware, looking Shepard up and down. The commander sat across the desk from her, casual as a woman dining with an old friend at a peaceful restaurant. The fire was there, behind the eyes, that admirable animation that had made her instantly recognizable as a sharply perceptive but also good-humored woman, if you didn't cross her. She semi-reclined, taking a sip of wine from the plastic cups that were all Miranda had had to offer. The commander had seemingly slipped into the first uniform she had found, completely apathetic to the Cerberus logo emblazoned across the right breast. It had been a little symbol of domination Miranda had planned out, but Shepard seemed wholly unwilling to protest it. She had slid into the first pair of pants as well, a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants with an almost harem-pant deep crotch. When Shepard shifted her legs, occasionally the outline of her new member would be made apparent.

Miranda sat forward, picking her silverware back up and flattening the emotion from her face. "Right, well, on the subject of the operation we performed on you."

"I had some questions about it, actually."

"I would be willing to answer what I can, but no doubt you've noticed that we've made some... modifications."

"Right, hard not to notice."

Miranda suppressed the teasing of a smirk at the corners of her mouth, "For the record, I think you could make the case that Cerberus went too far, but I assure you, in the Illusive Man's mind, these changes were necessary to assure that you didn't just run away as soon as you got the chance."

"Is that your way of saying you wired my cock to explode?"

Miranda almost choked on an ill-advised drink of wine she had taken. "No, nothing like that."

"So what then?"

"The composition of your," She cleared her throat, "cock, so to speak, has been modified with a few safety measures in place. The genetic makeup of it is part Krogan."

"You're telling me," Shepard giggled.

"I can understand if you're upset about this."

"Why would I be upset about this? Most men in the galaxy would kill for half the cock you gave me."

This time, Miranda did . "But, you were a woman before. Doesn't that at least somewhat upset you?"

"I mean, how many people in the history of the galaxy have gotten to try both experiences?" Shepard mused. "Even if you can't bring anybody else back to life, Cerberus can make a killing on the patents for full biological sex change. At least I'm assuming it works like that, I haven't exactly tried getting anybody pregnant with it yet."

"You're almost fascinatingly shameless about this."

Shepard raised her eyebrow, "You did have it in your file that I've never really been a prude, right?"

"No, we are aware of your relationships with the Asari consort, as well as Councilor Tevos. As well as your relationships with crewmembers Liara T'soni... and Kaidan Alenko... and Ashley Williams... and-"

"You don't need to list all of them."

"Anyway, yes, we were aware that there was a possibility that you would accept your modifications positively, but we never really expected-"

"Were you hoping to get more pushback?"

"We were expecting to get more pushback."

"Kinda sounds like you specifically were hoping for it."

Miranda felt herself flushing, this hadn't been part of the plan. She didn't have this in her script.

"My personal feelings on the matter are not an issue."

Shepard suddenly leaned forward, the almost crushing weight of the person behind those eyes suddenly focused on Miranda. It made Miranda feel almost naked, and it definitely didn't help her flushing.

"But your personal feelings are what I'm interested in."

Miranda drained the rest of her wine cup desperately, then poured herself another. Shepard offered her own and Miranda filled it too.

"So much for just a glass." Shepard almost teased as she took a deep drink.

"You..." Miranda fumbled for her words. "Are difficult to deal with, Shepard."

"You know, Liara told me that once too. And Kaidan. And Ashley. And-"

"If you want to keep teasing me, I have a program on my omni-tool that could bring you to your knees."

"And would it make you feel in command?"

"I am in command!" Miranda spat, indignantly. She wasn't sure if it was the wine or the embarrassment, but she felt hot enough that she feared she might break into a sweat at any second.

"Of course. You can boss me around if you want." Shepard purred, leaning forward.

Miranda quickly realized it was both, and they were making her feel a lot more than embarrassed. The fringe of red hair that played around the sharp green eyes on Shepard's feminine face half-obscured the low-lidded upward glance they gave the Cerberus officer on the other end. There was no way to describe what she was doing as anything other than "bedroom eyes". Miranda, of course, knew this. She could see what Shepard was doing. Knowing it was happening also didn't make it stop working.

"You are an absolute menace." Miranda sighed.

"Tell me how you really feel."

"I admire you Shepard, but I'm not about to hop into bed with you. Remember when you talk to me just who holds your remote."

Shepard's eyes narrowed, her tone was still playful, but there was almost a harshness. "If you want to give me orders, just give them."

"And what order should I give you?"

Shepard leaned back, relaxing, finishing her wine. "You tell me, you're the one in charge."

"You're not a dog, I'm not going to tell you to heel."

"Sure, sit, on the other hand?"

"How about down puppy, for one?"

"Puppy, I like it."

Miranda looked at her wine, realizing where her mind was going and that finishing it was going to guarantee it went there. She looked from the glass to Shepard. The commander sat back in her seat, arms crossed across her chest and one leg folded over the other. The commander was smiling almost lethally. Her toned arms across her body a small reminder of the lithe and athletic form that sat underneath those loose-fitting Cerberus clothes. She could make out the outline of the commander's new package inside the crease of her pants. She needed to stay self-controlled, but that goddamn bioweapon of a smile was doing serious damage every time she caught it in her gaze. Realistically, it was Miranda's job to keep Shepard docile, willing or unwilling. Realistically, it wasn't inappropriate for Miranda to jump Shepard's bones. Realistically, there was no reason to be apprehensive about the idea. The apprehension came from a strange place. One that recognized that taking what she wanted right at that moment meant indulging Shepard. Giving up that little shred of control. Of course, she still held the remote, she could still be in control even bent over her table by the hero of humanity. But that fucking smile stood in defiance, equal parts somebody who knows they've already won and waits for their partner to make the next move and one that dares an opponent to keep speaking until they reveal a withheld secret. Biting, burning, exposing, taunting, knowing.

Miranda finished her glass of wine, "Yes, and puppy does what I command."

"If you ask me to do jumping jacks, I'm going to tell you I'm too full. Anything else; sit, stay, stand, speak, strip, stroke." Shepard's voice slowly lead down until the last two were little more than a growl.

Miranda shut off the monitors to her side and set the empty dishes near them. "Even if we do this, I'm still in charge."

"However many times you need to say it," Her eyes gleamed with an almost bratty mischief.

Miranda rose, keeping her eyes on Shepard as she looked down at the usually taller commander. "Come on, follow me to my quarters."

"I almost thought you wanted to do it here."

"I would have no problem disciplining you here, but from what I've seen, you're going to make a mess."

Shepard rose slowly, up to the point where she loomed slightly over Miranda. Miranda suddenly gulped, recalling how the commander compared to her up close. Taller, wider shoulders, firmer build. In a purely physical sense, she was larger than life compared to Miranda. The power balance lay in the uniform, the biotic power, the remote on Miranda's arm. Looking the commander up and down, she couldn't help appreciate how much the commander filled out the shoulders of her uniform top. How much she was able to paralyze with the expressions of the eyes and those cool pink lips even looking down and not up. How those arms threatened at all times to wrap around her and enfold her completely, pinning her arms. Then, looking down, how the loose pants made for a man of average endowment ill-fit the growing lump between her legs.

"I've never been this close," Shepard purred, leaning against Miranda. "I guess I never realized I was bigger than you."

Miranda could smell the standard-issue soaps and shampoos heavy on Shepard's skin, deeply unsexy smells. However, they loomed alongside the warmth of physical closeness, overriding the objections to the too-familiar scents. She turned and put a hand on Shepard, trying to gently keep her at arm's length. but those strong arms wrapped around her tightly, fulfilling the earlier promise of keeping her arms pinned to her sides. Shepard's face pressed a moment in Miranda's hair, then slid down her head to her neck, kissing the skin she could expose through Miranda's jet black hair. Always, as her lips and teeth brushed and squeezed the skin, her hot breath shot goosebumps down Miranda's arms and back. The firm arms that wrapped around Miranda's body ended in strong hands, long fingers with digging points. The arms that wrapped her own slowly slid downward, strong hands and needling fingers moving from her shoulders down and inward toward the officer's stomach, prompting a shuddering excitement to course through her. Through the almost-skintight suit Miranda wore, those fingers pressed in, warm but forceful against her skin. As they crept down past her stomach to her waist, they seemed to guide pressure down out of her stomach to her now anticipating pussy. The fingers kept above, stroking about but not indulging, letting Miranda's anticipation build and her wetness to start to hit her suit at the elbows of Shepard's arms kept Miranda's own at her side and her sharp nose continually rose from her neck and fell back, bringing both kisses and soft bites.

"Goddamn..." Miranda mumbled. "You are a menace."

No sooner had she said it than those long powerful fingers slid over her clit. They pressed firmly through the thin suit, moving in little forceful circles, kneading the sensitive bud with the slick fabric of the suit. Miranda stifled more words, breath catching and leaving her with only a soft whimper. The kisses and bites mostly stopped, leaving quick focused breaths constant and hot against her neck. Miranda squirmed, her legs buckling a bit. When she tried to bring her thighs together, Shepard moved both of her feet inside of Miranda's, giving her no easy way to close her legs. The bulge in Shepard's pants pressed constantly against Miranda's ass and legs.

"Stop!" Miranda squeaked a little weakly.

Shepard's hands slid a bit lower, teasing both the swollen wet lips of her pussy as well as the now extremely sensitive clit.

"Stop!" She repeated a bit firmer.

Shepard lifted her hands away, but didn't let Miranda go.

"If I wanted to get fingerfucked," Miranda grumbled out, legs still shaking a bit, "I could get anybody on this ship to do it. I want that fucking dick of yours."

The arms untwined from hers, letting her step away.

"Come on, let's make it to the bedroom this time before you jump me."

They had barely made it through the doorway when Shepard was on her again. This time, turning Miranda to face her and leaning down to kiss her on the lips. Miranda felt her head clouding and she placed her hands on either of Shepard's shoulders to push her away. Shepard responded by taking both wrists in her hands and slowly walking Miranda back to the bed, then leaning her down onto it. Shepard climbed on top of her, knee pressed wetly between Miranda's leg, kissing her mouth then her neck.

"Goddammit!" Miranda grumbled, squirming. "Stop teasing me."

Shepard lifted her face, bringing it close to Miranda's. "I was having fun making you whimper."

"I'm not here for you to fuck me like we're a pair of college girls, use that fucking dick we gave you."

"Not into foreplay?"

"I'm here to keep you in line, don't get lovey-dovey."

The knee ground into her crotch a little more sharply. "You mean to tell me you aren't enjoying this?"

"Shut up and prove you were worth the investment."

Shepard raised her hands from Miranda's wrists slowly, bringing them to the hem of her shirt and slowly raising it above her head and off. As much as Miranda admired the firm flat stomach and perky handful breasts, Shepard was clearly more interested in taking her time. She pushed her thumbs into the waistband of her pants, Miranda reached for her omni-tool and pressed a button. Immediately, Shepard blink and rocked back slightly.

"What the fuck was that?" She grumbled.

"That's our insurance if you misbehave, which you're doing now. I only turned it on one-tenth power, but it should still be making your balls pretty uncomfortable."

Shepard reached a hand into her pants, wincing, "Why?"

"We didn't give you a dick for you to be hugs and kisses. Come fuck me like a fucking animal."

"That's not how I usually do things," Shepard grumbled.

"I don't care, you're a fucking breeding stud now, act like one."

Shepard considered retorting, but the pressure was already more intense than she'd felt in the morning. She dropped her pants without any elegance or fanfare, letting her cock swing free. If this was how Miranda wanted to play it, this is how she would play it.

"Good," Miranda observed hungrily, reaching for the zipper on her neck.

Shepard didn't give her the time to, grabbing the skintight suit by either side of the wet pussy stain in between the legs and heaving it apart with a single motion and a loud tear. It split easy, exposing milky skin all the way up to Miranda's stomach and down past her ass. Shepard had used more strength than intended, but it didn't matter in the scope of the message.

"Hey!-" Miranda started to protest, then caught herself when she saw the look in Shepard's eyes. "Fine, but you're paying for the suit."

"Fucking bill me," Shepard grumbled back, sliding the head of her cock along the slick outside of Miranda's pussy before pressing the head strongly against the entrance and sliding in.

Fucking a pussy was a new experience for Shepard, one she hoped to repeat as often as possible. Miranda's insides bloomed out furnace-hot around her cock, hugging skintight and rippling with texture. Shepard could feel individual muscles contracting and individual sections of skin being dragged along the surface of her rod as she pushed further and further in. Miranda tried to take it in silence, with a stone-faced composure, but she was clearly getting just as lost in the sensations as Shepard.

"Regretting giving me this much to work with?" Shepard gritted her teeth through the sensations to tease Miranda. It had exactly the result she wanted, causing a frustratingly embarrassed look to cross the commanding girl's face for a moment. It faded just as quickly as Miranda's ankles locked behind Shepard's waist.

"I gave you exactly as much as I should have." She almost spat back. "Do you not have the nads to swing it?"

"You know," Shepard leaned down and flicked her tongue over one of Miranda's nipples, "This doesn't have to be a contest."

She was almost shocked at how harshly Miranda grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, "And it doesn't have to be a romance either."

Shepard frowned, starting to thrust down into her. The antigrav mattress took it silently, as did Miranda, leaving Shepard to savor in the sounds of her stirring up the girl's guts. It was a shockingly wet sound, considering how cold Miranda still seemed. Miranda bit her lip as the slapping thrusts continued, stifling any sounds. She tried to avoid Shepard's eyes most of the time, not moving her hips any either. It was like she was trying to be a hole to thrust into, nothing else. As much as Shepard was enjoying a pure rut, it was cold, passionless. She slowly wound down her thrusts, grinding her hips around.

"I know you aren't tired that soon, we made you stronger than that."

"This isn't sex for you, is it? Not really. You're just trying to collect a semen sample from me and get on with your day."

"Don't get so offended, it was something I was prepared for. Your new rod was specifically measured to around the limits of my biology."

"So what, your job is chief executive officer and fleshlight?"

"If it helped the mission-"

Shepard locked her hands under Miranda's back and lifted her further back onto the bed, settling down over her. She kept grinding her hips, not pulling her cock out.

"You can either get over it and get your nut or get out of my bedroom."

Shepard shook her head, "Nuh-uh, option three."

"There isn't one."

Pressed down on top of Miranda, it occurred to Shepard that even if Miranda wanted to get rid of her, she would have a very hard time. Something Shepard was counting on.

"No, because the way I see it, unless you can turn off your own sex drive, I can try to make you enjoy it enough that you see things my way."

Miranda looked unamused, "You're awfully confident in your new toy."

"You want to bet on if your attitude or your craftsmanship has a lower tolerance?"

Miranda started to say something, then caught herself, leaving her puffy red lips slightly parted. Shepard leaned down and pressed their lips together. Miranda, surprisingly, didn't fight it. She let their lips interlock and slide together, Shepard's tongue dancing into Miranda's mouth. Her hands crept to Miranda's breasts, teasing the bright pink nipples on the end of each. She felt Miranda's hands come to her wrists and start to pull them away, but Shepard quickly overpowered her and pinned her wrists above her head. It was ever-present in Shepard's mind that Miranda could throw her through the bulkhead at any time, but she wasn't. Shepard pulled her lips away slightly, Miranda's lower lip in her teeth. With another grind of their interlocked hips, Miranda let out an almost meek noise. Shepard gave her her lip back.

"Fine, if it gets you out of here faster, we'll do it your way." Miranda droned in a voice just a little too excited to be believably terse.

Shepard's hands slowly released Miranda's wrists. When Miranda tried to move them again, Shepard's hands went back and pressed firmly. Miranda sighed and rolled her eyes, a pair of biotic restraints of her own making fading in around her wrists. She gave Shepard an "are you happy now?" glare. Shepard lowered her hands back to Miranda's chest, fingertips brushing lightly against her nipples. As she flicked them over and over the hard buds, she managed to make Miranda squeak, which the girl responded to by ducking her gaze away from Shepard's. Shepard responded by ducking her head down to Miranda's now exposed neck, biting tenderly.

"Ah-!" Miranda caught herself about to say something, then swallowed her pride and started over, "Really, with the high school shit?"

Shepard picked her head up and loomed it back over Miranda's, "Sounded like you liked it."

"So what?"

"So, sounds like the "high school shit" is going to get what I want out of you."

"Just don't lose sight of what you're here for."

"I think we have different ideas of what I'm here for."

Shepard lowered her head back down, kissing where she had bitten before briefly. One of her hands grabbed a handful of one of Miranda's breasts and held the bouncy flesh firm in place, almost centering the nipple in place. Shepard bent down and took the nipple in her mouth, grazing it lightly with her teeth once then flicking her tongue back and forth over it and sucking hard. She flicked the uncontained nipple with the fingers of her other hand. Miranda let out occasional sudden shudders, but held her tongue. More importantly, the longer Shepard stayed where she was, the more Miranda's blush deepened and the quicker her breath got.

She kept steadily but rapidly flicking Miranda's nipple with her tongue as the suction of her mouth pulled it taut. Her more dextrous fingers teased and twisted Miranda's other nipple ferociously, not letting her get comfortable with any one movement. More than anything else, her balls churning with foreign technology that was making her feel like she was about to burst, the sight of Miranda's facade slipping slightly and steadily was turning her on immensely. With each passing second, each particularly sharp twist of sensitive skin, the "all-controlling" gave way to the impotent and the helpless. If Miranda had gotten out much... ever... she never let people treat her like this. The second sex became something intimate, perfect genes didn't matter, experience and intent did. It was almost graceless how much she didn't know what to do with her body, thighs squirming on either side of Shepard's waist. High school shit indeed.

Miranda's body froze suddenly and sharply, back trying to rise up into Shepard. Shepard watched Miranda clamp her own hands over her mouth, bionic restraints never more than an agreed-upon limitation. She shuddered, eyes squeezing shut almost desperately. Shepard could feel Miranda's pussy squeezing her for dear life, riding an almost confused orgasm. Her stomach arched against Shepard's, then dropped, then arched again, then dropped again. The whole time shuddering and rocking her hips, still grinding their sexes together. Shepard pulled Miranda's hands away from her mouth and pinned them up again, letting go of Miranda's nipple and returning her face to just above the Cerberus Officer's, watching her take one shuddering shallow breath after another before finally relaxing and breathing in deeply, her eyes crept open, equally embarrassed and hazy.

Shepard leaned down and kissed her again, letting Miranda's slow deep breaths shudder against her. Miranda whimpered again as Shepard bit her lip again. Shepard let Miranda's lip go and straightened up, giving her arms a rest if even for a moment. Miranda took a moment, then rose onto her elbows. The slap was slow, dulled, but still harsh and angry. Shepard caught it just in time, grabbing the wrist and pinning it back to the bed. The other one grabbed her by the hair again.

"Either your cock's broken or you're cheating." Her voice was almost squeakily hoarse.

"I'm willing to bet nobody's ever made you cum like that."

"Seriously, is your cock broken?"

Shepard shifted her hips, rocking her cock inside of Miranda's likely still very sensitive insides. Miranda seemed to wince, confirming her suspicions.

"Does it feel broken?"

"Well, I have you at near half of max and you aren't either going nuts or passing out."

Shepard looked up at the pinned wrist, Miranda's omni-tool was open.

"This is half?"

"Yeah, it could get a lot worse." Miranda tried to sound threatening.

Shepard pretended to paused and look pensive for a moment, then started to make slow dragging thrusts that made Miranda gasp aloud.

"I don't know, I'm not impressed."

"Slow! Fuck!" Miranda hissed.

"This is slow." Shepard shot back matter-of-factly.

She started to thrust faster, slap her balls more violently against Miranda's ass. Miranda was taking short panicked little breaths, her pussy veritably sloshing as Shepard pounded it. It was likely that she was modified to get wetter easier than a normal girl, but for all of her wincing and protests, she was still letting out sharp little squeaks when Shepard hit a particularly good spot. Her dark hair spooled out across the white sheets, getting a little messier each time her head rose off of the bed or slid back and forth, becoming a black spider's web across the sheets as her face got redder and redder. Occasionally, her veins would pop out against the tighter parts of her skin, plump skin jiggling where she had been measured to a near-perfect lustful roundness. The more Shepard let herself get carried away, the more she wanted to take in all of it, not that Miranda was about to let her have her way, but it didn't stop the desire to sink her hands into the perfect woman's round ass, bury her face between her pillowy breasts. Instead, she held Miranda's wrists a little tighter, slammed into her a little harder, getting the desired moans and squeaks as if repayment for being denied the ability to squeeze and lick her to her heart's content.

"That's... more like it..." Miranda grunted.

"Shut up."

Realistically speaking, she'd always been a bit of a topper, guess the cock just gave her the ability to act like it. Once she had broken the seal, overcome the initial hesitation and awkwardness of ramming her cock into somebody for the first time, she could work out a pace she liked, find that groove that she'd heard the locker room talk about. Even then, the initial head rush wore down and she still wasn't about to pop, so she got to shimmy her hips, try to find the angle that made Miranda's breath rush out, try to focus on her instead. It was only a little vindictive, just a bit. The shakier the breaths, the louder the wet sounds of Shepard's thrusts, the more fun she was having. She tried to focus on the fun, she leaned down to kiss Miranda again and the woman's face bloomed in embarrassment despite her lust, but it was too late to get Shepard's tongue out of her mouth, and definitely too late for cold feet about taking on the monster she was at least halfway responsible for. Leaning down along Miranda's body made their breasts press together, Shepard's toned but perky chest and Miranda's bouncy handfuls. It was probably a pretty bespoke experience for both of them, in the grand scheme of sex in the galaxy unless some of the naughtier rumors about the Asari proved true. Miranda's face scrunched up like she was trying to decide between continuing to return the kiss or argue through a mouthful of tongue. Shepard pulled her mouth back to let the girl breathe.

"You've been thinking about this since the second you bolted this thing on, haven't you?"

"Is that what you consider dirty talk?"

Even pounding Miranda with one of the most impressive pipes in the galaxy, the girl didn't budge an inch on making things a contest, one that she was always going to win. Shepard felt Miranda's arms tugging together slowly, she'd been willing to let them at first, but they were more determined now. Miranda had gotten her omni-tool open, flicking through it dextrously, without looking, the whole time. For her to be moving this brazenly and dextrously now after who knew how long of doing it subtlely, using her unbroken eye contact with Shepard as a mask. Shepard yanked her arms back apart, turning one wrist probably a little painfully to read the screen.

"I'm guessing "emergency override" is the panic button you hit when I'm about to make you cum again and you need me to pop before then?"

Miranda started to make a hissing protest but cut herself off with a shuddering whimper. Judging by how noisily Miranda was starting to slosh with each thrust and how soaked the bed below he was getting, Shepard had been at least close. Miranda's hand flexed and grasped as if she could will one of her fingers to move down onto her wrist and press the button. Shepard was definitely starting to feel the anxious sore stiffness of being put on however high of a setting she had been for as long as she had, but she was still pretty in control. Hopefully it didn't mean that she could only finish with Miranda's permission, or that Miranda could simply turn things off at will, but she'd been fine this morning, and it would have been pretty stupid of Miranda to leave Shepard high and dry with an axe to grind... or rather thurst... and just hope for the best.

Miranda all but squealed underneath her, arching her back up under Shepard as her eyelids fluttered almost uncontrollably, eyes all the whites and red of being rolled back underneath. Shepard pressed her lips back against Miranda's and felt the officer whimper into her mouth, pussy tightening and releasing like it was trying to push her out, or yank her deeper in. Shepard felt a sloppy splash between her legs, Miranda shooting shuddering little sprays uncontrollably, making her shiver. Judging by how out of breath she was getting; if Miranda had known she could squirt like that, it had still been a long while.

As she was riding the fun of feeling Miranda twist in pleasure underneath her, Shepard suddenly felt a little shimmer explode in her stomach. It wasn't the same as cumming when she was a girl, she should have known that. It wasn't some water balloon of pleasure, filling and filling, leaking a little here and there before bursting, it was a single massive firecracker. It popped, and suddenly your body was jello and your cock was trying to squeeze your insides out through a narrow slit. Were it not for her kiss with Miranda, Shepard probably would have made a far less graceful noise than the Cerberus officer. Her balls shot up, like they were trying to flee into her body, as she shot a blast of uncontrollable fire out from between her legs. Her vision went white-hot, her whole body one tweaked muscle relaxing and flexing, dropping from her head down through her core and turning into white light in her loins, then bouncing up as waves of ecstatic relief in her head. She lost track of how many pulses she pumped into Miranda's womb, enough at least for the white-hot seed to come flowing back out around Shepard's cock and come leaking out onto the bed. Even then, Shepard's balls just kept pumping and pumping, like she was trying to dehydrate herself.

Miranda pulled her lips away while Shepard was melting into her, letting Shepard gasp and whine into the open air. A moment later, she got her wrists back and flicked her omni pad out of hibernation again. Even as Shepard continued to lay on top of her, entering herself into Miranda's womb, Miranda resumed some sort of composed control. With the press of a few buttons, Shepard felt the cascading waves growing smaller, the pulses growing weaker, until finally her head cleared like she was waking up, blinking to see where she was, body still occasionally shuddering.

"I... kinda wish you hadn't stopped me..."

"When your level is as high as I had it, there's a non-zero chance that you'll literally cum yourself to without manual intervention."

Shepard cracked a wry grin, "That doesn't change my request."

She rolled off of Miranda, letting her cum suddenly come rushing out of Miranda's overfilled pussy, almost visibly deflating her stomach. Miranda murmured something and fiddled with her omni-tool some more. Gradually, Shepard felt the tension climbing down out of her crotch. At a certain point, she'd just figured that was part of being aroused with her new body, she was going to need to keep testing and familiarizing herself with how things worked, especially if Miranda was going to keep letting her.

"You should give me the controls to this thing, I could probably have some fun with it."

"Not a chance, you'd be like a mouse with a wire in its dopamine center."

"Not much stopping most people from acting the same."

"Aside from a refractory period, which you don't have."

"I don't know if I should thank you or be angry at you for that."

Miranda rolled over onto Shepard, still leaking her own juices alongside Shepard's cum and straddled her captain's lap. One of her svelte hands, seemingly out of place against Shepard's hard muscle and garishly overinflated rod, grabbed a hold of Shepard's still hard cock.

"I don't have one either, consider it a mutual curse."

"I thought you just turned it off."

"Yeah, but this one isn't between Frankenstein and the Doctor, this one is you and me."

The End?