So, this comes from a crack-y prompt on the kink-meme, and while it isn't my usual pairing or style, it just got stuck in my head and I had to write it. (Anyway, the original prompt was for Sam and she makes way more sense than Liara in the story) Needless to say, it is not in canon with any of my other stories. I hope you enjoy the smut, and please consider leaving a review to let me know how you thought it came out.


"And I'm saying your arguments aren't logical," Samantha Traynor insisted.

"Not logical?!" Indignation dripped from Shepard's voice. Most of the time when she had a disagreement with her girlfriend, she was just as happy to concede in order to keep the peace, but this was different. This was a matter of principle. "You're the one who's not making sense, Sam," she insisted. "I mean, sure, Kira Nerys was pretty cool, but how does that mean that Star Trek is even remotely comparable to Star Wars?"

Samantha looked skeptically at her girlfriend. Though Shepard was a smart woman, she could have the dumbest taste in entertainment. "Star Trek is about the best in the human spirit. About solving problems with our brains. Star Wars is mostly a series of wildly implausible action sequences interspersed with fortune cookie wisdom."

"Wildly implausible action sequences!" Shepard threw up her hands in frustration. "You're talking to the woman who once drove a tank through a Mass Relay. Who beat up an eight foot tall yagh with her bare hands. Who got a giant thresher maw to take down up a Reaper. Star Wars is totally plausible. It's Star Trek that has ludicrous technical mumbo-jumbo as the answer to every problem."


Sam grabbed a pillow and shoved it into Shepard's face to stop the flow of blasphemy coming out of her mouth. "Hey, it was technical mumbo-jumbo that built the Crucible." Shepard grumbled through the pillow but Sam grinned. She just realized that she had a trump card. "Anyway, it was Star Trek that had the first lesbian kiss ever on television. Star Wars can't say that."

Unfortunately, Shepard refused to give up, pushing aside the pillow. "First, maybe. But it was lame. They had to say she was body-switched or some nonsense like that. Give me Jania Solo and that Twi'lek dancer in Episode VIII any day of the week."

"Cheap exploitation!", Samantha protested.

"Hotter than anything on Star Trek!", Shepard countered.

Samantha got up from the couch in a huff. "Give it up, Commander. There is no way you'll ever convince me Star Wars is better than Star Trek."

We'll just see about that, Shepard thought to herself. Though she might be sleeping on that very couch tonight, she was already formulating a plan that guaranteed she'd win the argument in the end.


"I'm not exactly sure why I even agreed to do this," Samantha complained. "I mean, you're getting an opportunity to convince me of your point of view, but I don't get a fair chance to do the same."

Of course, she'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't getting anything out of this scenario. The outfit she was wearing may have made Samantha feel rather silly, but the hungry way that Shepard was looking at her right then was already making wetness pool between her legs. Samantha took great pride in her ability to hold her own with her famous girlfriend, whether in conversation or in bed, but sometimes, it was more fun not to.

"I think you'll figure out what you're receiving soon enough." Shepard's voice was sharp, carrying a promise of pleasure but also a dangerous edge that always made Sam weak in the knees. "You belong to Jabba the Hutt now, princess, and since I'm the one in charge of managing his little toys, that means you belong to me as well."

"You'll never get away with this," Sam insisted, playing the defiant rebel hero. "My friends will rescue me."

"Maybe they will." Shepard smiled evilly. "But until they get here, you had better do what I say. Unless of course you'd rather someone else conducted the examination. Bib Fortuna perhaps?"

Sam's voice trembled slightly. "That won't be necessary."

"Good." Shepard smiled indulgently at that small display of obedience. "Now, lie back on the bed. I want to see what the master's newest acquisition looks like."

Samantha lay down and Shepard took a moment to savor the sight in front of her. She had spent far too much time as a teenager jilling off to the image of Carrier Fisher in that little gold bikini and seeing Sam chained by the neck to her bed in that very outfit was making her clit pulse against her underwear.

Of course, the physical resemblance wasn't that close. Ashley would be a much better match for the princess, but while that thought had a certain appeal, it was her girlfriend that she really wanted to see wearing it. As her eyes crawled over every inch of Sam's luscious curves, she reflected that the exorbitant price she paid for overnight shipping on the outfit was worth every credit.

As she walked slowly towards Samantha, the specialist thought that her girlfriend looked positively predatory. Clad in black pants and a black dress shirt with her red hair tied back in a severe pun, she wasn't exactly in costume but she did radiate intimidation. Looming above her, Shepard's pale finger moved slowly over the slight curve of Sam's stomach, her touch just light enough to be maddening.

"Very nice," Shepard grinned, tracing her way up Sam's chest and across the undersides of her breasts. A groan escaped Sam's lips, and Shepard's touch became rougher, squeezing her through the bra. In spite of herself, Samantha arched her back, trying to get Shepard to do more, but the Spectre pulled back. "Well, well," she chuckled, "Not so reluctant after all, are you? I like that, but you're getting ahead of yourself. An enthusiastic slave may be nice, but that's not what we keep you around for."

Shepard bent down, catching Sam's mouth for a harsh kiss, her tongue pushing past her girlfriend's lips while her hand caressed her naked brown back. The smaller woman leaned into the kiss, her enthusiasm evident, but before she could get too absorbed, Shepard tugged on her dark braid, pulling her back and shoving her down on the bed. "You have a sweet mouth. Now prove to me you know how to use it for more than just kissing."

"You're disgusting," Sam protested, but in truth she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep up a pretense of resistance. Shepard looked so deliciously authoritative that the communications specialist couldn't wait to get her tongue on her.

Fortunately, her commander provided her with an excellent excuse to give in. "Princess," she grinned, her mocking tone able to make the title sound like an insult, "I'm the nicest person you'll find in this whole palace. If you want to talk about disgusting, I'd take a look at the gamorrean guards." Sam looked horrified, but Shepard added, "Don't worry. I'm sure a resourceful girl like you will be able persuade me to keep you far away from them."

"Strong argument," Sam admitted with a swallow, crawling her way back across the bed to kneel in front of Shepard. A firm hand grasped her head as she unfastened the Spectre's belt before pulling her shirt out of her slacks and planting a series of kisses on her lover's taut abdominal muscles.

"Quit stalling," Shepard growled, and Sam hastened to comply, pulling down her commander's black slacks and underwear. Sam breathed in the scent of her lover's arousal, the glistening wetness on her folds giving a vivid indication of how much this scenario was turning her on. Sam ran her tongue over the slick skin around her opening, and Shepard signaled her approval with a throaty moan, her hand pressing Sam's face against her sex. As Shepard's hand roughly stroked her hair, Sam's tongue delved inside her, drinking in her lover's rich flavor, a strong, musky taste that the communications specialist loved.

"That's better," Shepard hissed sarcastically, "But I do have a clit as well. I'd think you'd be familiar with it." Samantha reluctantly withdrew her tongue from Shepard's sex, exploring upwards. With two fingers, she drew back the hood and swiped her tongue across the swollen bud beneath it. Shepard groaned with pleasure as Sam licked her, and the specialist felt an odd rush of power. Though she was the one on her knees serving her ostensible master, above her she could feel the clenching of Shepard's thighs, the tightening of her abdominal muscles, the strained pleasure in her voice, and she was the cause of all of it.

"Good girl," Shepard growled. She reached down with her free hand, but unwilling to remove the golden bra she enjoyed seeing on Sam so much, she slipped her fingers underneath it instead. She rolled the rock –hard nipple she found there firmly between her thumb and forefinger, and her lover gasped around her clit.

"You like that, do you?", she laughed. "I'll bet you're just dripping wet, you sexy rebel slut, just dying for me to fuck you." Sam tried to nod in agreement, but Shepard's strong hand kept her head locked in place. "Oh no you don't. You keep up exactly what you're doing, and if you satisfy me, then maybe I can do something about your little problem."

Sam needed no further encouragement and as she resumed tracing circles across Shepard's clit with her tongue, she started to probe at her entrance with her finger, desperate to make her lover come so she could get her turn. Shepard was dripping wet and when she signaled her approval with a pat on the head, Sam slid first one and then two fingers inside her.

The commander's inner walls throbbed and even before Sam could start thrusting, Shepard began bucking her hips against her hand, setting her own hard, fast pace. The specialist tried her best to keep up, her fingers pushing against the front wall of her lover's pussy while her mouth licked frantically at her clit. Her own arousal was out of control, her aching body desperate for Shepard's attention on more than just her breast, but she knew she needed to be patient before she would get her reward.

Shepard's eyes started to shut as the pleasure overwhelmed her, but she forced herself to keep them open. The commander didn't want to lose the delicious sight of her girlfriend servicing her in that outfit. She growled with delight, holding back as best she could, but when her fingers massaged Sam's tits and the comm specialist moaned happily against her clit, the vibrations pushed her over the brink.

Sam felt her lover shudder with pleasure above her and she held on to Shepard's firm ass, steadying herself so she could keep attending to her through her orgasm. Shepard liked it when Sam drew out her climax, and the specialist obliged her, slowly stroking her inner walls until her lover's final shudders ceased.

Sighing contentedly, Shepard sat down on the bed next to Sam, gently stroking her lover's back. She was about to ask if her girlfriend was all right to continue, but when Sam looked up at her, pure, unbridled lust filling her brown eyes, the Spectre knew she already had her answer. Hardening her gaze, she looked over at the beautiful woman next to her. "Oh, you are good," she laughed harshly.

"So, does that mean I get to have my turn too?", Sam asked, her voice all innocent desire.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Shepard ran her fingers over Sam's cheek as she talked, the rich, husky sound of her voice sending shivers down the comm specialist's spine. "My face pressed against you, taking your desperate little clit into my mouth?" Sam could only nod, the arousing picture Shepard painted overwhelming her brain. "I don't think so," the commander said suddenly, shaking her head in mockery.

Sam leaned over, desperation filling her voice. "But you said…"

Shepard reached behind her and gave a little tug on Sam's chain, pulling her head away from her body. "I said I'd fuck you, and that's just want I intend to do. No one needs to know if a slave can have her pussy eaten, but I may not be the only one you need to satisfy." Sam's eyes widened in distress, and Shepard snarled, "Now turn around and get on your hands and knees unless you want to find out about that sooner rather than later."

"No, ma'am," Sam replied meekly, and while she did as she was bidden, Shepard shed the rest of her clothes and sauntered over to her dresser drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out a thick, flesh-colored shaft but made no move to put it in just yet. Walking back over to the bed, Shepard unhooked Sam's chain and wrapped it around her hand. Sam whimpered as Shepard looked her up and down hungrily, "Please, I need…", she started to say, but Shepard only gave another tug on the chain.

"What you need is to work on your patience, slave," she chuckled. "I want to savor this." The commander reluctantly tugged off Sam's bikini bottoms, sad to lose that bit of the costume, but admiring the glistening wet pussy she found beneath more than compensated her. The smell of Sam's arousal filled her nose, and Shepard brushed her fingers lightly over the outer folds of her sex. "So," she asked, "Do you let your rebel friends fuck you like this? Get on your hands and knees for every smuggler and pirate that wants to have fun with your cute little body?"

"No," Sam replied, her voice trembling with unmet need. "I…I haven't. Not with any of them."

Shepard shrugged. "Their loss. Because unlike them, I intend to enjoy it quite thoroughly." She fitted the shorter end of the sex toy inside herself, setting it into place against her clit, the wetness from her orgasm letting it slide in effortlessly. She lined herself up behind Sam, positioning the head of the shaft just outside of her sex. The specialist groaned with lust when Shepard rubbed the tip over her wet entrance, but rather than slide inside immediately, the commander just moved it back and forth, teasing her lover mercilessly.

The specialist whimpered, the touch just enough to be enticing without satisfying the ache between her legs, but when she tried to press her hips back and take Shepard inside her, her lover's pushed her forward, moving her away from what she craved. A hand swatted her round little butt, and a harsh voice chided her, "Now, now, it's not a slave's job to dictate the pace. I really ought to leave you hanging a while longer to teach you that."

Samantha choked desperately, her desire overwhelming her self-control. "No, please, not that. I… I need you to fuck me now."

Her girlfriend was so adorable begging her for relief that Shepard decided to take pity on her. "I suppose, since you were such a good little pussy eater early, we can overlook that one mistake."

The specialist sighed with relief and as Shepard slid forward, Sam took her easily, her wetness letting Shepard move almost all the way inside of her in a single stroke. The commander was immediately rewarded with a scream of pleasure but she waited a moment before she continued, letting her lover become accustomed to the thick shaft inside her. While she ran her hands over the soft skin of Sam's hips, she felt her lover's inner walls flutter around her. The sex toy translated the pressure and friction applied to it into pleasurable pulses to her clit, allowing Shepard to properly appreciate the tightness of her adorable girlfriend.

"More," Sam pleaded, the momentary relief she found in being filled fading rapidly, replaced by renewed craving. Thankfully, Shepard began moving inside her, her slow thrusts dragging along Sam's inner walls as she went even deeper into her pussy. Sam's earlier pretenses of reluctance had totally collapsed by now as the specialist screamed herself hoarse and the sounds she made as much as the stimulation of her own clit were driving Shepard wild as well.

The commander sped up the pace of her fucking, taking Sam as hard and fast as she could. In spite of her meek appearance, her lover could be insatiable and the delays Shepard had subjected her to had pushed her almost to the point of insanity. Shepard felt herself crashing towards another climax, but she wasn't quite ready to come yet, wanting to stay in control until Sam was satisfied.

To distract herself, she slipped back into character, caressing Sam's soft ass and slowing down her thrusts. "You're pretty good at this, princess," she laughed, stopping altogether for a moment. "Are you sure you don't like getting fucked by your rebel friends?"

"No, I," Sam forced out, willing to say anything as long as Shepard started taking her again. "It's just you that I want to fuck me."

"Oh, you are a treat," Shepard grinned, gradually resuming the motion of her hips. She pressed her digits along Sam's back, stopping just short of her asshole, before reaching around to brush the tips of her fingers lightly over her lover's throbbing clit.

"Please," Sam pleaded, and Shepard rewarded her with the press of her hand against the swollen point. Sam's pussy squeezed her tighter and Shepard sped up her thrusts, rubbing her even as she did.

"You may just be too good to share," Shepard suggested, pressing deeper into Sam. "I may have to see if Jabba will let me keep you all to myself. Would you like that," she asked, "To be my little slut, princess? To wait for me at home and satisfy me whenever I want?"

Sam couldn't reply. The combination of the pressure on her clit and the words Shepard was saying, the Spectre's possessive desire to keep her all to herself, pushed the specialist over the edge. Her body jerked and went rigid in Shepard's arms, her hands clutching at the sheets, and as her channel spasmed orgasmically around her shaft, the pulse it produced sent the Spectre tumbling after her. Shepard's inner walls pulsed around the toy and she pushed as deeply as she could go inside Samantha.

The hard thrust along with the ecstatic groan coming from her girlfriend caused a second climax to crash on top of Sam's first. She was pretty sure she yelled something incredibly obscene, but she couldn't even tell what it was, her brain lost in a fog of lust. Overwhelmed by her pleasure, only the powerful grip of the Spectre's hands kept her from collapsing entirely.

As her orgasm ebbed and rational thought resumed, Shepard slowly eased Sam off of her shaft and unhooked the chain from her collar before laying her girlfriend gently down onto the bed. Taking out the toy, she put it on the nightstand and lay next to Sam, her strong arms enfolding the little specialist. Her girlfriend purred happily as the Spectre placed a series of small kisses along her neck, and her warm body snuggled further into Shepard's embrace.

"So?", she asked coyly, lightly nibbling the communication specialist's earlobe.

"So what?", Sam replied, matching Shepard's playfulness with her own evasion.

"So have I made my point?"

"Well," Sam laughed, "That was bloody incredible."

"See, I told you," Shepard started to boast, but Sam cut her off.

"But I still say Star Trek is better then Star Wars."

Shepard's green eyes widened with surprise. "You have got to be kidding me?", she sputtered. "Have you ever been fucked liked that in a Star Fleet uniform? I swear Sam, I have half a mind to chain you back to this bed and keep this up all weekend until you see the light."

Sam grinned with delight at the thought. "Make it so."