Miranda comes out on top

Miranda gave Jack a quick shove off and staggered to her feet. Jack staggered up around the same time. Miranda took a deep breath, eyes locked on Jack's as the convict glared through her, eyes hazy with rage. The time in prison had made her dangerous, added a barely-concealed edge. But her rage and anger were directionless, it wasn't Miranda she was truly angry at. That kind of anger was useful, for an opponent. It wasn't plotting, it wasn't scheming. It was devil may care, punching the bulkhead behind the mosquito. Miranda hit a place of focus, seeing Jack's future moves as the convict's eyes darted around her body.

Jack lunged low, the most basic move, the one Miranda had first considered. Blind rage, truly and properly blind. Animal instinct, there were lessons to be learned there.

Miranda caught Jack lunging and off-balance with a lurching knee to the girl's hunched midsection. The lungs, already constricted by posture, had the air shoved out of them as if they were a leaking balloon. Jack sputtered, gasping noisily to catch her breath. Before she could get to her feet, Miranda struck her hand in the air with a chop and the air within the cabin... popped.

It was overkill, a complete localization of air pressure like it was drawn to a black hole, slamming and dispersing the air held within with the **** of a vicious skull-bound strike. It was enough to finally make Jack's eyes haze over and slide shut. Miranda paused for a moment, catching her breath. When she reached down an arm, she could feel Jack breathing softly. It was all surface damage, aesthetic scars and deep bruises, nothing they couldn't walk off with some medi-gel or a trip to Chakwas. It would be Miranda's job to give her something to remember the fight by. Prison rules, pecking order, the like.

She glanced back at Shepard, the pressure jerk had knocked him out too, probably popped his eardrums like a motherfucker. Overkill, she would apologize later. She lifted Jack with a wave of her hand.

The semi-elastics of the seat restraints were well-engineered so that anybody with the rest of the restraints unlocked, or even just the arms, could easily pop a single nonfunctioning joint. With a twist to the triangular shoulder brace that met its mirror counterpart over the chest, it became tight enough around to hold a limb in place. Miranda twisted both shoulder braces into tight loops around Jack's ankles and clicked them together over Jack's head. Even something as intentional as this could have been easily overcome by somebody with free arms, with Jack's wrists locked into place against the seat arms, the simple combination became harshly effective. Jack lay with her chin slumped to her chest, arms pulled forward inside the crook of each knee, spreading apart her legs which remained held back and up behind her head. The other mid-chest belt that usually gripped and lifted just beneath a female crew member's breasts, (the one that had obviously been designed by a male safety engineer who was destined to spend the afterlife being pelted with stones by every woman who had ever had to make a landing in the awful thing), had been twisted on either side before being pulled and clicked shut around Jack's neck. Due to the order of completion, any movement of the arms moved the legs, any movement of the legs tightened the belt around the neck. Effective, good enough to reinforce the message even to an animal otherwise willing to chew off a limb to be free. Stay still and breathe, thrash, and make it worse.

Of course, there was no guarantee Jack would be that smart, it was impossible to tell with her.

Jack wasn't really a "reasonable animal." Assuming she would act like one usually lead to bad results, dangerous results even. Best to overprepare, tie one more knot than necessary, pinch the ropes a little tighter against the skin than she might otherwise need. Jack lay still, head swimming in a mire of stunned throbbing. When she woke up, ass and pussy sticking out of spread legs into the open air and bound in a way that couldn't have been on the same planet as the word comfy, she was going to be pissed. Perhaps, in her own words, even fucking pissed? Miranda cinched the neck belt a little tighter, triple-checked the wrist restraints. Finally, she gathered the lap belt from either side of the seat and clicked it shut over the meat of her thighs, pulling the tattooed woman's bony knees against her shoulders. No way around it now, Jack was likely waking up with a hell of a back spasm and a face filled with her own pussy. That and Miranda standing over her. What she would choose to be maddest about was anybody's guess. Miranda grabbed a pouch of recycled water and took a long pull, then squeezed the rest of the pouch to spray Jack's face.

"I'M GONNA FUCKING SCALP YOU, YOU PUNY BITCH!"

Yeah, to be expected. Jack's head jerked angrily and slammed against the seat back as she spewed every insult she could come up with. With each jerk of her legs or arms, the belt around her neck would tighten and **** her voice for a second before loosening back up as she would jerk the other way. Even animals could establish causality quicker than she was, she must have been pissed pissed.

"AND WHEN *HRKH!* I FINISH THAT *HRKH!* I'M GOING TO USE *HRKH!* YOUR FUCKING TONGUE AS *HRKH* TOILET PAPER!"

Miranda looked down at her with what she could only describe as fascinated pity. The repeated cutoffs of her own airways were making Jack's eyes streak with tears, though it was hard to rule out that she was an angry crier. The child experiments usually were, something about not having good parenting. Though perhaps perfectly engineered women in glass houses... Jack's voice was hoarse, as much from screaming as from abusing her own throat.

"You sound like you need more water," Miranda remarked, pouring some more of the pouch onto Jack's head. Jack sputtered, but it didn't seem to derail her vitriol. Miranda was getting tired of listening to it. Miranda picked up one of the sad shreds of bodysuit that lay on the cabin floor. She waited a moment for Jack to pause for breath, a single precise jab often outweighed a screamed tour of history's obscenities.

"The dog knows Speak, but does it know Quiet?"

Jack took a blissfully quiet second of stunned silence to process it, then seemed somehow to get angrier.

"WHAT THE *HRKH!* FUCK *HRKH!* DID YOU *HRKH!* JUST *HRKH!* SAY?"

Miranda crouched in front of Jack in her chair, finding a moment to stuff the tatter into the prisoner's mouth. She didn't manage to do it without getting her fingers bitten pretty hard, but it was a small price to pay for the immediate reduction in decibels it gave. It didn't stop the screaming, of course, but an "RRRRRRM GNNNNN KKK MMMMMMMMM" was easier to deal with.

"I called you a dog. You bark and bark all day, every day. It's like there's something seriously wrong with you."

Even through the gag, Miranda could still hear the occasional choked "HRKH!" of Jack cutting off her own airway.

"You're not even a dog really. You don't learn, you won't listen, you sure as shit don't heel. If I had my way, I'd ship you back to a lab somewhere to get a chip put in your head, but I don't have access to those kinds of things down here."

Miranda strode to the midsection of the Mako, her omni-tool had scattered there, among other things. When she stepped back over to Jack, the bright flash that briefly pulsed from it made the convict squeeze her eyes shut. The anger was starting to subside, ever so microscopically, replaced with new far more mixed emotions. The one that currently seemed to be winning was "what are you doing?"

"Just a before picture, partly for posterity, partly because I like seeing you muzzled as you should be."

Miranda held out an arm toward Jack's face as if offering it to sniff. Jack, who wasn't into petplay in the best of circumstances, did not sniff. Instead, when she drew back her hand over Jack's stomach, Jack winced in preparation for the blow that didn't come. Miranda set her hand on Jack's stomach with almost concerning gentleness. When she traced circles around Jack's navel and then up to her chest, Jack reeled back in shock. At least, as much as she could in her current position.

Miranda's hand started to knead one of Jack's breasts, squishing and rolling the soft multicolored flesh with interest. She rose up to Jack's nipple, handling the metal of the piercing in her fingers and pulling it softly. She stretched Jack's nipples one, then the other, turning the prisoner's muffled screams as confused as they were angry.

"You're full of shit, you know that? If these are double D's, I'm rocking a fucking J cup." Miranda scoffed, Jack turned away from her taunting eyes. "Was it an honest mistake, or maybe envy?"

A muffled protest.

"Let's say envy."

Miranda gave Jack's breast a hearty slap, watching the squishy skin bounce back to where it started. She slapped the other one, symmetry was an important part of good design. Jack's right was slightly bigger, most girls had a defect like that, Miranda couldn't relate. The tattoos weren't mirrored either, each side told its own asynchronous story. The ones that featured female nudity seemed redundant, but that might have been a situational thing.

"It's okay, lots of animals misbehave. Once is an incident, twice is an accident, three times is a pattern."

She took both nipples in her fingers now and pulled them away. Both from Jack's chest and each other. Stretched like this her breasts passed for symmetrical. Jack was trying to hide her full-faced blush, but she was getting quieter. A quick glance between her legs confirmed the wetness was coming. Miranda didn't want to admit that she was feeling the same, being clinical about it was how you kept control. The satisfaction came from the control, not that she'd kinda wanted to do this for a while. If she lied to herself, she could keep pretending, even when she knew it was a lie.

"An animal that misbehaves as much and as badly as you though, it means that there's a problem that your owners aren't solving."

Jack's brows furrowed again and her eyes flashed with new anger, spitting through her gag. Miranda considered playing it up, drawing it out. It was fun, yes, but she was only really delaying the good part. Maybe half and half?

Miranda's hand sunk between Jack's legs, getting another spark of embarrassed anger. She didn't move it pleasingly, more teasingly. She rubbed her palm flatly over Jack's mound, grinding the heel of her hand against Jack's clit for a moment but keeping broad motions that lacked weight, smearing Jack all over herself. Miranda saw Jack's ass tighten, an anticipatory flex as her touch likely sent the blood surging out of the forward-folded woman's head.

"I think between how you carry yourself and how fixated on it you are, your problem is you're all pent up with nobody to come along and calm you down."

Angry muffled noises, the likely sound of a struck nerve.

"Just between us girls, I've seen the way you eyefuck every man on the ship. Even that brittle-boned pilot and the grease monkeys down on the lower decks. But especially the good commander. Why else would you jump his bones the first second I'm out of the room? It's because you want him to bend you over the console and treat you like you're back in prison, but you're too proud to let me see you begging. Just between us girls, of course."

Angrier muffled noises, a definite struck nerve.

Miranda pulled her hand away for just a moment before jamming her middle two fingers inside of Jack. She started to aggressively go after the bound woman's sensitive spots, twisting her fingers and stroking up toward her navel with each wet sound of her hand flexing. The powerful "come here" finger motion that every girl in a foxhole learns to pass the time, even more effective with a hand that wasn't your own, of course. With her other hand, quick circular jerks around Jack's swollen pink clit. A pair of techniques that were handy for a girl to know, even if just for herself. Jack probably knew them and a hundred other tricks like them from time in prison, but at the mercy of them and bound to a chair she was like a virgin all over again. Miranda hadn't spent the time in prison like Jack had, but Jack probably didn't usually give people unfettered access to her like this. Even if you know the techniques are coming, with your knees to your shoulders all you can do is get worked.

Jack was getting worked, possibly like she never had before. Judging by the streaks of wet running down Miranda's hands and the choked whimpers coming from the torn cloth, all she could do was melt. She was probably still trying to protest, but as her clit swelled a little redder and her pussy ran a little more shamelessly, she was likely losing the will to protest as her edge drew near. Tempting as it was to tease and ****, Miranda moved like on a mission.

Jack's head rocked back into the seat, suppressing her voice well but not well enough to hide the whimper that came mewling out as she burst. Her stomach jerked, veins popping out against her tight skin. She arched her back and strained her arms against their bindings, likely cutting off her air again but likely erupting too hard to care. Miranda could track each surge forcing its way through Jack's body, feeling her pussy clench around her fingers and watching Jack's hips rock against her hand. Miranda didn't let up, stroking and guiding Jack firmly through. Even when Jack's pussy surged and the wet sounds of her squirting onto the floor filled the cabin. The wetness slowly traveling, now down Miranda's forearm, was a victorious thing for her. Even if just for a few dozen dizzying moments, Jack purred for her like a machine.

"Hrrmph?" Jack asked, all consonants as usual behind the gag. If Miranda had to guess, it was something along the lines of "Wow Miranda, you've shown me the error of my ways. Please take your fingers out so that I may have a moment to overcome my post-climax sensitivity and then we can cuddle."

"No."

Miranda's fingers sped up inside of her, getting a gagged squeal as vindication. She pulled her other hand away from Jack's clit, operating her omni-tool. A bead shifted out of semi-solid energy into her hand. If she let go of it, it could hold in place in the air. Instead of doing that, she pressed it against Jack's clit. The semi-energy nature of it causing it to bond near-magnetically to Jack's skin. Even while Jack's hips pumped and pulled to get away, it remained in place. With another touch of her omni-tool, it began to vibrate.

Jack's reaction was immediate and visceral, eyes shooting wide out of post-orgasm bliss as she wailed into the gag. Her hips thrashed far harder in an effort to get away from the technological terror. In the process, she time and time again cut off her own air. The desire to pull away from the vibrating little orb must have outweighed the pain. Miranda continued to pump her fingers, using her other hand to press softly on Jack's navel, trying to soothe her and keep her from thrashing so hard she hurt herself. It did not work.

Jack froze mid-twist, completely failing to muffle her shuddering gasp. Her second orgasm squeezed out of her hard enough to seem to hold her ensnared as each wave of painful bliss rocked through. She would pull in harsh breaths and groan them out in frustration. She was so **** to pull her legs down and shut that her airway seemed permanently closed, Miranda would probably have to modify the design to prevent long-term injury or damage. She squirted with far less control, like a burst faucet. Miranda let the fluids hit her, making no effort to avoid them. It was just another admission of surrender, another step toward the heeling. Jack's moans that passed with the final surge were half-sobbed.

"Come on now, I expected so much more." Miranda chided. "With how much you boasted and threatened, I thought you were an all-night kinda girl."

Jack had no time to rest in post-orgasmic bliss, the vibrating orb did not relent. She started to writhe again, the softly **** motions before the flailing that would come as she was **** to crest the hill again despite her body's protests. Miranda pulled her fingers out, wiping the trail of musky liquids that now almost reached her underarm against Jack's thigh. She unfastened the belt around the neck, it sliding rapidly to either side as Jack sucked air deeply and hungrily. She made no noticeable renewed attempt at escape, seemingly more concerned with the orb that wasn't going anywhere. Miranda watched her from above, wiping up the juices that dotted her body with the tatters of Jack's torn pants. When she was better-heeled and could be trusted with her mouth, there would be time for her to lick Miranda clean. Miranda pulled up her omni-tool again, taking a picture for the file she was building in her head. A file meant mostly for her... and anybody on the extranet who wanted to pay. There were probably more than a few people out there who held grudges harsh enough to want to see it.

Jack sprayed her feet with another orgasmic volley. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her movements were getting more **** but definitely weaker. She was definitely going to feel sore from this particular climax tomorrow if they had stopped by then. Her squirting was like a faulty sprinkler, equal parts forceful but chaotically messy. If she'd been allowed to talk, Miranda had a 50/50 on her speaking in tongues.

"Oh for Christ's sake," Miranda sighed. "And now you're turning into a one-pump chump."

If Jack heard her, she didn't respond, she just whimpered.

Miranda fiddled with her omni-tool. The matter generation wasn't really made for what she wanted by default, and she'd never paid for the mod she could have used at the moment. The shimmering image that formed between her legs, the one that she'd wanted to look like a fairly realistic but large strapon, looked more like a fleshy spaghetti squash with no discernable "head" and no balls. Maybe a foot long and maybe as wide around as a soda can at the widest it flared. It would do the job, albeit gracelessly. It did meet one intended design goal; when Jack saw it her eyes almost bugged out of her skull.

"Yeah, sorry. Cerberus doesn't let me write off the mod for this as a business expense." Miranda shrugged. "Even when training a bitch like you helps ship morale."

Miranda tried to line the bootleg bitchbreaker up with Jack's hips, but the chair was just barely too low to the ground. She didn't want to crouch down, ideally. She wound up leaning over Jack, looking down into her eyes as she rubbed the tip against Jack's slit. She spread the bound woman's entrance with her fingers, even without Jack's pussy constantly winking and contracting it would be a tight fit.

"Fuck, no way you're walking right after this." Miranda taunted. "But you'll thank me for training you with something this big, we do employ a krogan after all."

Jack's eyes went wide as Miranda started to press the tip past the point of no return. Jack's pussy spread like a blooming pink and red flower around the half-transparent semi-matter. The constant shimmering electricity of being penetrated by semi-matter was something your body never really got used to, like keeping a battery stored inside of you. That said, some people found the orgasms a lot more intense, even with a small implement. For Jack, Miranda was going to be wearing her skintight enough that she wouldn't have a say in trying the sensations for herself.

The semi-matter state of Miranda's tool and the overwhelming wetness of Jack's pussy made the impressive implement slide in with shocking ease. That didn't make the shocking size and weight of it any less... shocking. If Jack had ever had something this big or forceful inside of her before, it likely wasn't often enough to adjust to it easily. Even semi-matter that bent and distorted to accommodate a host still had a size that it wanted to return to. And that wanting was spreading Jack like it wanted to show her insides to the world. Miranda marveled at it when she felt the skin-to-skin contact of her hips pressing against Jack's ass. Looking down between the slick entwined bodies to see Jack held open, stuffed like a dripping turkey.

"Even if they did fuck you like this in prison, you're in for a special ride, bitch."

Miranda started to thrust into Jack with nothing short of frustration. In a few angry strokes, Jack was writhing and convulsing beneath her again, another erratic spray of uncontainable ecstasy and agony spattering the floor between Miranda's wideset feet. Miranda's ass bounced in the air and dropped back down in a rhythm that would have been hard to dance to, it was harder to think to. Her face inches over Jack's, all Miranda could think about was punishing her, watching her face twist with any number of emotions the prisoner was usually too proud or too strong to show. It was hard to feel empathy, she had enough bruises to put that out of her mind. It still made her feel feelings she wasn't proud of. She tried to push pictures of herself in Jack's position out of her head. There was no place for that, this was purely business. Purely business...

She leaned down and kissed Jack through the gag, an awkward and less-than romantic gesture. Jack was too lost in the moment to respond if she even noticed. With each rhythmic heavy slap of hips against hips and accompanying crackle of the semi-matter cock shifting and warping, she watched Jack's face contort. It was absolute control, almost something like love.

Jack's whole body was shaking. Her legs quivered weakly while also flapping with each hard downward slap of Miranda's body against hers. Her torso was shaking, her deep uneven breaths also mixed with the slight warp and deform of her stomach when Miranda bottomed out. Her fingernails were dug into her palm hard enough to make her hands shake. Her pussy was raw and red, sore beyond belief but continuously barraged by pleasure feelings she wished she could escape from. Cumming with the semi-matter inside of her made her brain feel fuzzy. It was like sticking a fork in an electrical socket with her stomach, she couldn't string thoughts together. The cloth came out of her mouth.

"Who do you work for?" Miranda's voice was almost an angry whisper.

"A... A..." Jack wheezed out, her throat ached.

Miranda pinched the metal studs in her nipples hard. "Say it, puppy."

"Cerberus!" Jack wheezed. She was ready to say she worked for the reapers at this point.

The buzzing on her clit stopped. Miranda gave one last mean-spirited deep thrust before pulling out. Jack's pussy screamed in relief, but the soreness as it gaped, winking into the open air, did not go away.

"And what is your job?"

"W-whatever you want, fuck!"

Miranda pressed a button, making the misshapen cock-thing vanish, then bent down and grabbed Jack's leather strap-top off of the ground. She undid the restraints and Jack couldn't help but topple out of the chair onto the ground. She clutched at her screaming pussy in the misguided hope that by doing so it might not beg so loudly for an ice bath... or a stiff drink. While she was down she felt Miranda slip the leather strap top around her neck, fastening it and tightening it into both collar and leash.

"Up, on all fours, puppy."

Jack quietly obeyed, Miranda dog-walked her over to where Shepard sat limply.

"Now, I want you to get the commander nice and hard for me. If you make him cum, you're going to wish I'd put you out on the planet's surface."

Jack put her hands up into Shepard's lap. He was still slumped in his seat, a small amount of blood trailing down his neck from where the back of his head had struck the seatback. He was still restrained, and his continual shallow breathing confirmed he was alive. Jack quietly fished his cock out of his boxers. She pulled back the skin around his head, giving him a few tentative strokes. She had probably dreamed of this moment, though it was probably more like a nightmare now.

A sharp tug on her leash, despite the perverse joy Miranda got from watching it. "Put your mouth on it, I want him wet for me."

Jack pushed the head of his cock into her mouth, he shuddered in his sleep. He was pretty like this, and with a well-trained dog to get him excited for her, he was going to get prettier. She bobbed her head up and down on him. She had done an impressive job overcoming her gag reflex, not everybody could be born without one. He was starting to stiffen, his breath was getting more ragged too. She could have probably let it go on, she might have even liked to, but she was done with the blue balls and the things other people wanted for today.

"That's enough, get out of the way."

She pushed her way past Jack, pulling the bitch's leash and setting her beside the chair. Jack grimaced, some of her familiar storminess starting to return, but Miranda kept the leash tight. She sidled into Shepard's lap, her own pussy long past the point of leaking down her legs and now red and hungry enough that being in control was quickly losing any sort of priority.

"Watch me, you might need to know how to please the commander too if I'm not around. "

She slid onto Shepard's cock slowly, spreading herself and pumping herself full in a way she'd spent more time fantasizing about than she'd ever admit. She twisted her hips, rocking and settling onto his thick rod. She was probably angelically tight if he'd been awake to appreciate it, of course being designed for the pleasure of men did lead to happy partners. If the choice was between her and some prison dog, it was best not to let somebody make a regrettable mistake. She all but chewed her lower lip in bliss. His cock was good, but several days of borderline edging added some flair. She set her arms on his shoulders, pulling Jack's leash in such a way as to make sure her audience's attention was on her body, her pleasure. Jack grumbled, trying to look away, a sharp tug corrected her.

"I -ah! said to watch, puppy!"

She started to work her body around him, angling herself and striking at the right angles to get where she wanted to. Shepard grunted, his eyelids starting to flutter. Miranda leaned in and kissed him, her tongue tracing his lips. Once he realized what she was doing, they opened, letting her entwine with his mouth fully.

"Miranda?" He gasped when she split away, he half-opened one of his eyes.

"Hush John, don't try to wake up."

"Is this a dream?"

"Does it feel like one?"

He grunted, shifting his hips. With a wave, his restraints came off, letting his head fall forward into her chest. She buried his face there. His hot breath between her breasts made her heart flutter. Jack seethed. Miranda started to twist and buck her hips more fiercely, she could feel a few days of buildup making quick work of her stamina. He wrapped his hands around her back, grabbing a pair of handfuls of her plump ass. His firm fingers dug in, she was very close now.

"I'm close." He choked out.

"Let it go, cum as deep inside me as you can manage."

He let out a gasping shudder before he took a deep, uncontrolled breath. He burst messily inside of her, cock pulsing as jets of his seed arced inside of her. It was blissfully warm, when each new spray made contact with her it made her jump. Already in the heat of the moment, it was also enough to push her past her own point of no return. Her chest heaved against him as forceful waves came cresting up through her body. She held him close as they both shuddered their way through a far too long delayed intimate embrace. For a moment, she didn't have to think about anything but her and her man. At least, that's what he was now.

When she came shuddering back from the blissful mountaintop, she was stuck in a crew vehicle with two other people. One of whom had just cum inside of her like she'd been thinking about for years, the other looked like she'd gotten her spunk back, at least somewhat. Miranda gave her leash a tug.

"See how much he liked it?"

Shepard pulled his face out from between her tits, straining his neck back to see Jack and the leash. "Wait, what the fuck did I miss?"

Miranda gave the leash another tug, "I got us a new pet, to share."

He looked genuinely concerned, "I'm not sure how to feel about this."

"Do you want some time to think about it, or do you want to share her?"

"Share?"

"Puppy and I have a sort of understanding. She behaves, and everything fits into working order. She doesn't, and it breaks down. When it breaks down, she gets punished."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

Miranda frowned, she had half-expected this. Shepard didn't really run with ideas of ownership, even if he let himself be owned. He would just need to see what she meant.

"Of course I don't expect Jack to be like this all the time," She mused, keeping her arms wrapped around Shepard's neck and keeping their hips locked. "I assume as soon as we got back to the Normandy, she's going to forget what happened here in a day or two and start something again. If she does..."

Behind his head, she worked her omni-tool. The vibrating orb over Jack's clit started working again, getting a yelp out of Jack.

"Oh, come on!" The leashed girl whined.

"She's almost a match for me in terms of biotics, but she's got no chance when it comes to tech. Maybe, once I trust her, I'll let her take it off."

Jack groaned and pulled against her leash, hands grasping uselessly at a field of element zero generation that was only half-there to begin with. Even a simple omni-tool would have let her remove it, it wasn't any kind of magic, but Jack wasn't the kind of girl that used any tech. Shepard wasn't that kind of guy too, if it came to it.

He looked up at her sternly, "Stop this."

She frowned again, "Wrong answer."

Pressed on top of him, it was too easy for her to re-engage the restraints. He let out a quick groan as they snapped him back into the seat. Miranda slid off of him, feeling the cum sliding out of her and going cool as it hit the air. She stood up, then pulled Jack's leash.

"His cock's a mess, clean it for him."

Jack obeyed, half in desperation to get the thing turned off, half because on some level she probably still wanted to please the commander like Miranda had. Maybe, somewhere in the animal brain, Jack thought that if she licked and sucked his cock just right, not only would she make him an ally against Miranda, but they could share some quiet moments when they had overcome their foe. These things both could be trained out.

Jack crawled her elbows back into Shepard's lap, looking up at him half-apologetically as she grabbed his slick cock and started to lick it clean. The long flicks of her pierced tongue over the skin mixed with her dips of the head into her mouth quickly removed any traces of his tryst with Miranda, but also started to get him hard again. Shepard squirmed against his restraints, but it seemed as much customary as anything else. His eyes mostly remained locked on Jack.

"Tell me, does the tongue stud really improve the experience?" She leaned in Shepard's ear and asked.

He didn't really respond, but she thought she picked out a barely-suppressed "uh-huh".

"I've always kinda wondered myself. Tell you what, I want to try it for myself, why don't I let you go and you come around and fuck this round ass of hers?"

He grumbled something back in response. Miranda strode over to the spare seat and pulled out one of the straps, then sliced it with a chop of the air, and a biotic hit in the right place. When she turned around, she realized she had let Jack's leash fall to the ground and left herself ****, but the convict was still where she'd been left, between Shepard's legs cleaning his cock. She ignored the good behavior, stepping over to Shepard and looping the belt around his neck.

When he grunted in frustration as the belt bit into his neck, she kissed his cheek.

"Just to make sure you behave, for now. You should wind up let out of yours long before she stops needing hers."

She pulled Jack back away harshly, making the convict **** and sputter, drool caked down her face. She glared up at Miranda, but when the officer brandished her omni-tool, Jack heeled. Miranda unfastened Shepard's restraints again.

"Up." She said, a far gentler tug on his new leash.

He slid out of his chair and immediately collapsed to his knees. His head was probably still reeling from getting knocked out. Miranda slid into his spot, feeling his now baked-in warmth. She pulled both leashes toward her, getting to experience both of them looking up from between her legs briefly.

She lifted Shepard's chin with the hand that had his leash, "Good, now get behind her."

He grimaced up at her.

"You've seen animals fuck before, right? You're a man, she's a woman, get behind her."

He still didn't follow orders, she frowned.

"I'm not sure what else you need to hear. I could threaten you both with ****, I'm clearly the only one here who can handle herself right now. I could threaten you with a little buzzing bead like hers. I could put it any number of places you wouldn't want it."

"You think we're just going to start acting like horny dogs because you tell us to?"

"No, I expect that you'll do it because I tell you to. If I wanted to, I could grab both of you with biotics and slap you together like dolls until you both climaxed yourselves stupid, but I would prefer you do it willingly. I'd rather punish you for not following an order than **** you to follow them."

She lifted her hand and let go of Shepard's leash, letting it float in the air. It moved like it was held in the hand of another Miranda that circled from behind the chair and tugged him along until he was behind Jack. The leash then draped slowly across Jack's back until it was back in her hand, and she gave it a tug to topple him forward and make him brace with his hands on her ass. Jack squirmed her hips, half in discomfort and half because Miranda had spent the past few minutes reducing the buzzing to nothing when she was getting close.

"Come on Shepard, show her what she's good for. You may want to spit on her ass first, even if she got it worked properly while in prison, this won't be easy on her. Or don't, I won't tell you how to treat an animal."

Shepard looked down, Jack's hips grinding slightly against his own. She was ready to drop the pretense and get fucked, resisting Miranda's little game could come later. Shepard lined his cock up with her pussy, himself more ready to abandon the pretense than he liked.

Miranda yanked his leash, causing him to double over Jack again, "I said, her ass."

He looked daggers at her, but Jack groaned under him, "Just fucking do it."

She let him straighten back up and he re-adjusted to line his cock up with Jack's ass. He did his best to spit on it and lube it, but the moment of truth was always going to be rough, and when his cock finally broke through and started sliding in, Jack made a noise like the air was being squeezed out of her.

"You ever come from having your ass fucked?" Miranda asked Jack innocently as the girl groaned and tried to wiggle her hips to adjust to the intruder faster. "You must have a ton of experience from prison."

"Shut... the fuck-" Jack started before her leash was tugged.

"Tell you what," Miranda placed the leash hand on Jack's head and pressed the bald skull down between her legs. "Depending on how well you eat my pussy, I might turn that thing between your legs up."

To punctuate, Miranda set it to the lowest setting, and to turn off at random intervals. For somebody as overexposed and oversensitive as Jack, it would be an unignorable nuisance, but not enough to make her cum.

Jack extended a lazy tongue and flicked it once or twice over Miranda's pussy dispassionately. Miranda chose to overlook it, and as the time dragged on and Shepard started to plow her ass more thoroughly and the pressure without release started to build, she started to lick and suck a little more and more with each passing minute. In no time, she was attacking Miranda's pussy desperately.

The tongue stud didn't suddenly make one an expert pussy eater, but the textural and sensational fixtures of it made the experience both refreshingly new while never taking away the old pleasures. It was better so long as it was good. Jack, either out of desperation, prison experience, or feminine intuition, was tongue-fucking Miranda better than anyone else ever had. In no time at all, watching the girl's ass cheeks ripple each time Shepard thrust his cock in and feeling her tongue crawl hungrily over and through her pussy, Miranda could feel herself growing soft to her leashed toys. She pulled out her omni-tool and turned up the intensity for Jack, getting a squeal in response. Over the smacking, the buzzing, and the wet sounds of a mouth constricting around skin, the cabin's hum struggled to break through. Miranda placed both of the leashes in one hand and grabbed Jack's head in the other, properly burying her face into Miranda's pussy, grinding wet lips against her face with **** and smearing her sex all over the leashed girl.

Miranda whimpered in spite of herself as the popping surging release rolled through her. She could feel the muscles in her waist releasing in between contractions, spraying her cum onto Jack's face. She squeezed her eyes shut at the start, but they shot open as Miranda gasped, looking into Shepard's eyes as he fucked away. By the time Miranda's pleasure had started to wind down, she could hear the sounds of Jack's own sloppy climax splattering onto the floor and dribbling down her thighs. Shepard's thrusts only continued as his hole writhed beneath him.

Miranda simply let the leashes drop out of her hand, noticed by neither person she had been keeping bound as they pounded out long-restrained tension. With her omni-tool, she snapped her pictures quietly, content to lean back and watch for a time.

A few hours later, the comms fizzled and cracked, it was a sound that split the then-quiet room. It alone didn't wake the sleeping pair, but the almost explosive pop of the primary engine spooling back up did. It was followed with a slow warming hum, met with a rush of cool air that threatened to make the naked trio shiver for the first time in days.

"Normandy to shore party, radiation has fallen back to safe levels. I have your signal, you guys alive down there?"

"We're all here, Joker," Miranda responded, the only one seated and near the comms.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to hear your voice. You uh... aren't the only one still alive down there, are you?"

"Both of the others have mild heat exhaustion and mild blunt trauma, but they're fine. I'm sending up special orders for treatment, is Chakwas around?"

"She's still on shore leave, officer Katsuragi is presiding."

"Good, Katsuragi will understand what I'm asking. What's your eta?"

"We'll be along in an hour."

"Make it 45 minutes, every second I'm denied a cold shower poses a significant danger to the safety of the Normandy."

"Whatever you say," Joker buzzed back, the comms (perhaps intentionally) did not cut off in time to hide his "So much for glad to hear her voice."

She had known it would be Katsuragi presiding, but it was best to be sure before she forwarded the beginning, middle, and end pictures as part of the message. Katsuragi was Cerberus true and true, the only doc she trusted anywhere near her body. He could be trusted to fit Jack's "controller" to her omni-tool specifically. He could also be trusted to make her model for Shepard a reality. She had really hoped Shepard would be more willing to play along, but that's what these little exercises were for. He could learn. Subject Zero was less guaranteed, but that was why one needed a firmer hand at times. Best to start her training early and keep it going often. After all, she wasn't lying, they did employ a Krogan that was going to need his relief occasionally. And her own heightened drive had quite enjoyed that tongue, when she was heeled enough to use it eagerly.