From the Mass Effect kinkmeme: masseffectkink. /5367. html?thread=19502583#t19502583
Original prompt:
What is says in the subject line. Garrus is not take-charge in the sex department. Maybe sparring is his idea of foreplay but he likes to be the one to 'lose'. Maybe part of his hesitation to start something with Shepard stemmed from thinking she wouldn't be into dominating her partner. Maybe he never actually says anything about it but she figures it out (it's impossible not to notice how deferential he is, how much he seems to love it when she pins his hands or yanks on his fringe, etc.) and she thinks it's hot as fuck. Whatever. I just want to see femShep dominating the hell out of Garrus, please.
PWP is cool.
"Garrus, I'm not really sure how to do that. I wouldn't have any idea where to begin." Shepard was a little apprehensive about what her lover was asking, mostly because she'd never done anything like that before. But this was the first time he'd really opened up about the things he liked and he looked nervous as hell about it, and she'd be damned if she denied him this but she needed to know what exactly he was asking for.
"You trained the new N7 recruits, didn't you?" he asked, his eyes trained on her, looking for any sign that she was about to balk and run away.
". . . yeah . . ."
"Like that. Only, you know, more fun and less 'I'll throw you in the brig' kind of thing."
"I . . . could work with that, I think." She thought about it, tried to picture doing those things to him, and a hungry smile crept over her face as the images grew more and more detailed. "Yeah, definitely."
He flared his mandibles in the turian approximation of a grin, and said, "So, when's the next shore leave?"
Somehow, she'd managed to work out their schedule so that they had three days on the Citadel. Of course, the savior of the galaxy, bane of the Reapers, and preeminent expert on badassery that she was could hardly be blamed for needing a few days of R&R between wiping the floor with the dregs of Cerberus and flushing out the remnants of Omega's mercenaries. It was a good life, action-packed but without the weight of the entire galaxy on her shoulders. And she had Garrus at her side, which made everything that much better.
Speaking of Garrus, he was running late. The hotel room she'd arranged for was gorgeous with all the amenities one could ask for, including a balcony overlooking the Presidium. The ground floor was large with a long white sectional couch and a lot of floor space, a bar-slash-kitchenette that ran along the wall to the right, a bathroom with the biggest bathtub she'd ever seen, and there was a spiral staircase leading up to the bed. The whole thing was laid out loft-style with no partitions at all and a lot of curves, probably due to the asari design influences. The drapes in front of the picture window that took up nearly the entire wall were currently pulled shut and the lights were dimmed enough to soften the edges of things and set the mood.
The current mood was one of nervous anticipation. There was a little shop near the hotel that sold sex toys, videos, and lingerie. The asari at the counter won about a million points with her for not even batting an eyelash at her purchases, and as soon as she was safely back at the hotel she laid everything out on the coffee table and tried on her new outfit. She examined herself in the mirror, her mouth curling into a wicked grin. She had to admit, it was damned sexy. The whole outfit was black leather edged in blood red that brought out the darker highlights of her hair. Her four inch spike heel boots zipped up above her knee and hugged her calves before flaring out at the top. Underneath, she wore thigh-high hose that were clipped to a garter belt. The black lace panties went over the garter belt which might have gone against convention, but made it easier to get them off without having to take off everything else. Her waist was constricted in a black leather corset with real boning and laced up the front, the top scalloped to allow her breasts to be bare should she decide to take off her bra, and her arms were covered with supple leather gloves. She'd put on a little makeup to match her outfit and tied her hair back in a loose braid that fell to her shoulder blades.
Garrus was going to get more than he'd bargained for. She smiled to herself and finished her preparations.
When he'd asked Shepard for this, he'd been worried she would reject it; this lay outside her comfort zone, after all, and wasn't exactly standard fare in human relationships if his research was any indication. It wasn't common in turian relationships, either, for that matter. He'd always wanted to try it, and when he saw that Shepard was not only willing but eager to do this for him, he'd had a very hard time concentrating on anything else for the rest of the week, alternating between nervousness and desire that made him very glad that the codpiece of his armor gave nothing away.
As soon as they'd docked at the Citadel, she'd sent a message to his omnitool that said, Meet me at the Presidium Palace tonight at 8:00. I've got some errands to run, so I'll see you then. Wear your civvies. He tried to kill some time by running diagnostic programs and rewriting programming code, but after the third time he'd entered a code incorrectly, he gave up and went to Zakera Ward to wander around for a bit, checking the time every ten minutes until 8:00 and annoying the hell out of the shop owners. He rushed (although he tried to tell himself he wasn't rushing so as to save himself a little dignity) to the hotel and asked the clerk for the room number, and his voice didn't waver a bit (something he was very proud of). The elevator ride up was even slower than the Normandy's, which was really saying something, and he stood at the door staring at the handle, his guts twisted into knots. Finally, after he'd calmed himself and thought he could trust his knees to bear his weight, he knocked on the door, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Uh, Shepard? It's me."
"Come on in."
He opened the door and looked around, taking in the room appreciatively before his eyes found her. She was standing with one foot on the coffee table holding a paddle and wearing the most mind-bendingly sexy outfit he had ever seen, made even better by the fact that she was wearing it so well. His mouth was suddenly very dry and his ability to form words drained away.
She cocked her finger at him. "Come over here, you." He started to take off his boots but she slapped her thigh with the paddle, the loud crack of leather on leather startling him. "Now, slave."
He went over to her, his entire body thrumming with anticipation as she lowered her boot and slung her hip out, tapping the paddle against her palm. She stopped him with a hand to his chest, then ran one gloved finger down the front of his body to just above his waist and gave him a look that was both menacing and laced with lust. He gulped. "On your knees, slave." He complied, and she started circling around him, his gaze drawn to her boots and the way her calves flexed in them, up to the curve of her ass and that wonderful . . . thing around her waist that made him ache to touch it. She stroked his fringe from his forehead all the way to the tips, the leather dragging deliciously across the thick skin, before grabbing it and yanking his head up and to the side so he was looking up at her. He growled low in his throat and she shook her head, clicking her tongue.
"Oh no, that won't do at all." She bent down to his eye level and said, "From here on out, you are my property. You will do what I say, speak when you're spoken to, and you will address me as 'mistress'. When you do something I like, you will be rewarded. If you refuse, or if you fail me, you will be punished." She ran the paddle across his mandible and down to his chin. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes," he managed to choke out. She kept his fringe in a tight grip and it was sending shockwaves all the way to his toes.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, mistress." She nodded and released his fringe with a jerk.
"That's a good boy. Now, take off your clothes." He started stripping out of his clothes, his trembling fingers fumbling with the fastenings. As he did she spoke to him, occasionally reaching out to touch his shoulder or rub his face. "Look at you, you fucking slut. On your knees, obeying my orders like the a horny little animal. I'll bet you want to fuck me silly right now, don't you, slave?"
"Y-yes, mistress." He was nude now, his clothes discarded in the corner, and he could feel his plates beginning to shift already.
"You're going to have to wait for that, pet. I've got you all . . ." she ghosted her fingers down his back, her breath on the back of his neck, "night . . ." she squeezed his bare waist and he moaned, "long." She bit his neck and he shuddered, his eyes rolling back in his head. She came back around to the front and put the toe of her boot on his thigh. "You like these boots?" He nodded and she dug her heel into his leg, the pain carrying an edge of pleasure that had him fighting for air. Spirits, she was really getting into this. "Lick it, slave. Lick my boot like the fucking animal you are." He wrapped his hands around her calf and licked the smooth leather with his long tongue. Shepard's breath sped up as he gripped the back of her knee and licked up to the top of her boot and started moving up her thigh. As soon as he reached her skin, she lashed out with the paddle and smacked him hard on his bicep. "I told you to lick my boot, slave. You've disobeyed your mistress, and you know what that means." She held his chin and tilted his head up to hers, the dark heat in his eyes making the muscles low in her body tighten and flutter. She hadn't been sure if she'd be into this kind of thing before, but she had to admit that this was extremely hot.
"Now I have to punish you."
Shepard went over to the table and bent over, giving Garrus a good look at her ass as she curled her finger around a thick collar with a chain attached with a pair of handcuffs attached to the end. She ran the chain through her hands and smiled at him, biting her bottom lip. Garrus stiffened as he watched, his blood on fire with desire. She knelt in front of him, her gloved hands cool on his neck as she threaded the belt through the buckle and cinched it just tight enough to be snug against his skin, her body so close he could feel her warmth against his plates. She moved behind him and yanked his arms back, closing the handcuffs around his wrists. The chain was just barely too short, and he had to hold his arms up a little to avoid choking. She planted her foot on his back and slowly pushed him down until his face was mere inches above the carpet.
"You've been a very bad turian." She slapped his ass, hard, with the paddle and he groaned. "Say it."
"I've been a bad turian, mistress." She slapped him again, then rubbed the stinging flesh. She hit him a few more times and the hiss-smack of the paddle made him jump and squirm, his abused flesh yearning for her gentle caresses on his over-sensitized ass.
"You are my slave." Hiss-smack. "Say it."
"I am your slave." His breath was coming in hitching gasps now and his plates had fully loosened, his erect cock almost touching his waist in this position.
"Very good." She pulled on the chain and he rose back up on his knees and she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her panties, pulling them down . . . so . . . slowly over her boots. She kicked them at his face and they fell to the floor between his knees but his eyes were locked on the apex of her thighs, where her juices glistened against her skin in the low light. Garrus pulled against the handcuffs; he needed to touch her so badly it was driving him crazy. She watched him struggle and had to fight the urge to just throw him down and fuck him right then, but he had asked for this. This was what he wanted, and she intended to make tonight as memorable as possible for him but the way his eyes drank in the sight of her wet pussy like he was a man dying of thirst in the desert just flat out did it for her. Her heart was trip-hammering away in her chest as she gripped his fringe again and started pushing his head toward her groin.
"I think you deserve a reward for being such a good little slave," she murmured and he strained toward her, but she held his fringe too tightly for him to move on his own without hurting himself. His mouth met her body and he gave a high-pitched moan of desperation. She propped her foot on his shoulder and opened herself up to him, her pink folds swollen with need. His tongue slid out and licked her slit and she threw her head back and moaned. With a breathy growl he pushed forward and began laving her clit in slow circles, making her hips buck and grind against his mouth as he strained against her grip on his fringe. He dipped his tongue inside her, flicking it against her g-spot, and her thigh quivered against his cheek. She tasted so good, so sweet and fresh, and his hands burned with the need to rub her pussy until she screamed his name. The restraints bit into his wrists, driving him wild.
Suddenly she released his fringe and pushed him away with her boot, her chest heaving and her skin flushed. She hadn't come yet; Garrus realized that she was teasing herself just as much as him and it made his cock even harder, which he didn't think was even possible until that moment. This was exactly what he wanted, exactly what his body was craving, and he gave himself over to absolute pleasure.
She kneeled before him again and gently licked her own moisture off his mouth, her breath flowing across his face. This tenderness felt so amazing after she'd played with him so roughly and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for a moment. The scent of her arousal mingled with his own creating a heady aroma that made his head spin.
"You like that?" she purred. He nodded, not quite trusting his voice. "My scent is all over you; it must be driving you crazy." She knew him so well, knew that she was close to pushing him into sensory overload. Well, there was one way to fix that problem.
She moved behind him, still on her knees, and she took out the strip of cloth that she'd tucked into her garter belt. She put the blindfold over his eyes and tied it so the knot was just under his fringe. The pressure of the knot there made him shiver; it was just enough to be titillating but not enough to make him writhe like it did when Shepard massaged it with her fingers.
She pressed her body fully against his back and he groped at her hungrily, hands straining against the restraints, but she moved away just as quickly. "Huh uh, no touching," she sing-songed. He groaned in frustration and pulled down against the handcuffs but the collar tightened on his airway and he had to lift his arms again. Shepard reached around to his mouth and teased it open. "Suck on my fingers. Get them good and wet for me." He obeyed, and when she thought he'd done a good job, she lowered her hand to his ass again and stroked one finger against his opening. He gasped and jerked away, but she grabbed the chain and pulled him back.
"Don't. Move," she growled through gritted teeth.
"I—" She pulled on the chain again and his words abruptly cut off. She released him, letting him breathe, hoping he was okay with this. She would stop if he asked her to, but this was something she'd wanted to do for a long time.
"Just relax and trust your mistress to take care of you." He let out a shuddering breath and nodded. She dipped her fingers into her pussy to wet them again and rubbed his asshole once more before pushing slowly inside, first one finger and then two. He hissed sharply, but his hips lowered just a little into her touch. She curled her fingers and pushed against the little bundle of nerves inside him, making him throw his head back and growl.
"Spirits, Jane—"
She jerked the chain again and he gagged. "Call me mistress, slave."
"Yes, m-mistress . . . oh, Spirits—"
She pulled her fingers out and he gasped at the loss of sensation. He could hear her moving around behind him, flipping the cap off of something, but the blindfold was too thick for him to see what she was doing. Then she was back and something slick and much larger than her fingers started pushing into his ass, torturously slow. It was pleasure of a caliber he had never experienced before, that feeling of being filled edge to edge so intense his mind went blank and there was nothing left but his need for more.
Shepard wasn't sure she could take this much longer. Garrus was not only letting her live out one of her most secret fantasies, he was really getting off on it. The dildo she'd bought wasn't a strap-on, but one that was meant to be held inside her body while she slowly thrust into his ass. The way he was moving his hips in time with hers and the sensation of the curved hilt of the dildo pressing against her g-spot, combined with the desperate mewling sounds he was making was so unbearably sexy that she had to fight for control. He always made sure she came first, but this time it was his turn and she was determined to draw this out as long as possible.
She buried the toy in his ass to the hilt and stopped, her hands kneading his waist. He was panting, his sub-vocals murmuring in long vowel sounds as she reached for his cock and lightly brushed her nails along its length. He jolted and all his breath rushed out of his lungs with a loud "Huh!"
"What do you want, my precious slave? My pet, my beautiful plaything." She ran one finger up along the bottom of his cock and he arched his back against her. "Tell me what you want me to do."
"I—I want you . . . oh . . ."
"Tell me," she breathed into his ear.
"I need you to fuck me! Please, I can't—" His words dissolved into incoherent moans and growls when her fingers closed around his cock and stroked while she thrust hard into his ass. He tried to move with her, but found himself trapped in her rhythm and the cords of his muscles stood out beneath his plates as he fought to keep still and let her do all the work. He hunched over himself and hitched in a deep breath before letting it out in a roar, his hips bucking hard against her, driving her deeper into him as his world exploded in a white-hot supernova and he spilled into her hands.
Finally he stilled and she pulled the dildo out of him, his hips jerking again. She gave it one last tug before taking it out, the sudden lack of pressure bringing her back from the edge again. Denying herself release was getting more difficult, but she knew that the end result would be spectacular and make all her frustration worthwhile. She laid the dildo aside and went to stand in front of Garrus again, who was bent over with his forehead nearly touching the ground, relearning how to breathe. She prodded his leg with the toe of her boot and he tilted his head up, though the blindfold was still secure over his eyes.
"You've made a mess. Clean it up for me." And she touched her fingers, sticky with his seed, to his mouth. He tentatively lapped at his fluids while she spoke, her voice deep and heavy with lust. The muscles in his stomach jumped and fluttered and he felt himself getting hard again. It was almost painful, his cock still sensitive after one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of his life, and she still wasn't done with him. Not by a long shot.
"God, you're such a good slave. It's a shame; I almost wish I had to punish you more often. In fact, I might do it anyway. Would you like that?" She took the blindfold off of him so he could watch as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked the remaining cum off her fingers. He watched her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. She paused for a moment, then backhanded him across his face—not hard enough to do any damage, but when his head rocked back and he rumbled deep in his chest she realized how much he enjoyed getting smacked around.
She leaned over his shoulder and bent down to open one of the handcuffs. She straightened back up and turned to the side, putting her leg between his and brushing his cock, which was hard as steel again, against the leather of her boot. "Help me take these off." She grabbed his fringe again and wrenched his head up to hers. "And don't try anything cute." He hooked a talon into the zipper tab and pulled it down, revealing the black hose underneath. She kicked the boot off and it hit the wall, then she turned and let him do the other one. The pheromones were pouring off her body and he inhaled deeply, feeling like he was high with the rush of scents and the texture of the hose against his knuckles and the lingering afterglow of his orgasm. He hadn't even in his wildest dreams imagined it could be like this; it was as though every single particle of his being cried out for stimulation until even the slight tug as the teeth of the zipper parted was thrilling through his body. Shepard kicked off the other boot and started to undo the clips that held her pantyhose up and he reached out to help her. She slapped him again, his mandibles stinging with a sensuous pain that coursed through his veins like fire.
"I said, nothing cute. Did I tell you to touch my legs?"
"No, mistress." He was suddenly breathless. She was going to punish him again, and he needed it.
"No, I didn't. You're good, slave, but you're a slow learner."
Her hand whipped out and yanked up on the chain around his neck hard enough to cut off his airway and he scrambled to his feet to take the pressure off. When he was firmly on his feet she let the chain go slack again and secured his free hand back in the cuffs. She tugged off her gloves, the leather susurrating against her skin, and she took hold of his cock, her bare skin against his so hot and soft. She started to stroke him, slowly at first and then building up speed. He met her gaze, his burning desire for her finding its twin in her green eyes. His breathing quickened and he felt that familiar pressure begin to build up, but she tugged on the chain slightly and his airway was suddenly too small. He struggled for air as she stroked him, her small lithe fingers playing over every ridge and bump and curve, working him into a frenzy. His vision started to blur and he thought he was going to pass out, but she loosened the chain just long enough for him to take a few huge whooping breaths before putting the tension back on. White spots danced in front of his eyes as his breath tore in and out of his constricted throat, his cock blooming with heat as she continued her agonizing ministrations.
She let go of the chain and slowed her pace until she was just squeezing him at the base, her thumb rolling in lazy circles. He tried rocking his hips into her hand to get her moving again, but she wasn't having it. Her teasing fingers were drawing pained whines of frustration out of him that had her legs shaking.
"Go up the stairs and kneel next to the bed," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. He did as he was told and she went to get the last toy she'd bought from the coffee table. It was a long-handled wand with a purple glass tube that bent at the top and ended in a wide, flat circular surface. It looked like one of those old-fashioned metal detectors in miniature. She turned it on and the glass lit up, bright with low-voltage electric current. From up on the second floor she heard Garrus' harsh intake of breath and smiled to herself. She unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor then raised the wand to her breasts and ran the surface lightly across her skin and around her nipples. Her lips parted in surprise—the humming electricity cracked and sparked across her skin in a way that was almost painful, but left tingling heat in its wake and lit up her nerve endings until they sang.
She turned it back off and started up the stairs to Garrus, peeling off her stockings and letting them drift to the floor followed closely by her garter belt. Now she was nearly nude, her tight leather corset the only thing left. She put a little more swing in her hips for her very captive audience, and he rumbled appreciatively, his sub-vocals a rich basso profundo.
"Sit on the bed, up against the headboard." He did, and she opened the handcuffs just long enough to bring his hands around to the front and she lifted them up, her bare breasts pressing against his chest, so she could loop the cuffs around a hook she'd installed earlier before locking his hands in place again. The sight of him absolutely submissive and displayed before her was making her heart pound and goosebumps to break out all over her body as she suppressed a shiver.
He had retreated a little into his plates, and she shook her head as if to say, Something must be done about this. So she straddled his legs and ran her finger around his cock along the edges of his pelvic plates, and he rewarded her with a groan. She leaned forward, bracing her weight against his chest, and kissed him thoroughly, teasing his mouth open and twining her tongue with his. Garrus swallowed her soft moans and met them with his own, her lips soft and pliant against his own more rigid ones, the taste of her tongue in his mouth warm and sweet. She backed away just enough to see his face before pushing her fingers into his plates, following the line of his cock down to where it met his body. Garrus arched his back and he inhaled sharply as she wrapped her fingers around him inside his plates and squeezed while her other hand stroked him hard again. He made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a whimpering sob as she stroked and rubbed him and she could feel his thighs quaking beneath her own.
Once he was ready for her, she reached over and got the purple wand. She flipped it on and Garrus' eyes locked on the device with a mix of apprehension and excitement. Shepard brought it to her arm and ran it lightly across her skin, and he could see the tiny hairs on her forearm rise up under a tiny electrical arc that sparked between the wand and her skin. She slid it across her breasts again, then down the lacings of the corset bound to her stomach to her groin. She gasped and closed her eyes as the wand buzzed and crackled between her legs, the shocks sharp and intense against her most intimate parts. Her efforts at control were paying off; her body was so starved for release that any stimulation was enough to bring her almost immediately to the edge again. The pressure between her legs built quickly, but she took the wand away before she reached the point of no return and had to take a moment to steady herself again. Her eyes opened and she saw Garrus watching her like a hawk. The corners on her lips curled up into a mischievous grin and she lowered the wand to his chest. He jumped and writhed under it and she ran it over his arms and down to his waist, briefly touching the soft hide there. He yelped when the shocks coursed through the more sensitive parts on his sides and across his stomach, the muscles twitching and stretching as he struggled. He couldn't decide if he wanted this to end or if he needed her to keep doing this forever and his entire body was flushed and tingled with heat.
She turned off the wand and edged closer to him until her hips hovered just above his and his cock was barely touching her wet folds. She kissed his mandible, brushing her lips across his face and neck in feather-light touches and her breath ghosted warm on his skin. He was nearly mindless with pleasure, his senses full of her and his skin ached and thrummed wherever she touched him. To be able to give himself over to her, to put his trust in someone so completely and let her take control of his body was sending such a tangled rush of emotions through him that he wasn't sure what to do, only that he didn't want her to ever, ever stop.
She rolled her hips and rubbed herself against his cock, her limbs trembling with need. She tilted her hips, his tip brushing against her opening, and she lowered . . . slowly . . . over him, enveloping him in her body inch by inch. She held his face in her hands and held his gaze, her eyes never leaving his as she took his swollen length into her. Somehow the naked need in his eyes was even more intimate than what their bodies were doing and she understood just how much trust he'd put in her not to abuse her power over him. She moved over him, slid up until he was nearly out of her before taking him back into her body, her hips rolling so he was hitting all her sweet spots at once.
"You've been . . . such a good little turian," she gasped, "and I think you deserve your reward now."
"Yes, mistress," he whispered, and she reached up to open the handcuffs. As soon as his hands were free they were immediately all over her, touching every part of her body, his talons leaving light trails across her skin. He held her close and rocked with her and he buried his face in the crook of her neck and made a fist in her hair. He was murmuring something into her neck but it was too low for the translators to pick up, and she dug her fingers into the soft spot on the back of his neck just under his fringe and he howled. She was so close, his cock filling every part of her, his scent everywhere, the heat of his body and the strength of his arms around her bringing her to the precipice. She pulled him away from her neck and pressed her forehead to his.
"Look at me, stay with me." One, two, three more deep strokes and the pleasure filled her until that last drop fell and the orgasm crashed through her with such raging ferocity and she screamed his name. He roared his own release right after, emptying himself into her in a white-hot rush. They grasped and clung to each other as if their atoms would be blown apart if they didn't press their bodies as close together as possible.
They stayed like that for a long time, her skin chafing against his plates but she didn't care. As her breathing slowed and she was finally able to make sense of her surroundings, she could feel Garrus gently running his talons through her hair. He relaxed his grip on her and just held her close, his cock going soft inside her. He brushed his mouth against her ear and whispered, "Thank you, Jane. That was . . . everything I could have asked for." She kissed him gently and he could feel the smile on her lips.
"It was my pleasure, big guy." He chuckled at that and rolled them both over onto the bed, her head nestled between his arm and chest. Garrus couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed, so sated. Shepard was fiddling with the laces on her corset, but his hand closed over hers and placed them at her sides. He pulled the laces out and pulled the stiff fabric out from under her, then bent over her and kissed her stomach. His fingers traced circles around her hip and she twined her fingers in his. His purred and she could feel his chest vibrating slightly. She sighed and felt a slight flush of warmth begin to creep over her.
"You'd better be up for round two if you keep doing that." He laughed softly and moved up her body to lick her breast, taking the nipple slowly into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it. Shepard gasped and arched her back into him.
They had three whole days of shore leave, and they didn't intend to waste a single minute of it.