Commander Shepard was a sick fuck. He always had been, even before he was resurrected by a radical paramilitary group of space Nazis who used a three headed dog for their name and a minimalist depiction of an ear of corn for their logo. No, he had always been a pervert, often jacking off while in combat, pulling one arm out of the sleeve of his armor and into his pants. This would leave the empty sleeve swaying back and forth in the wind, earning him the title of "rubber arms" among his comrades in arms. Oh ho ho, but now, after his resurrection, it took on a whole new meaning.
As a side effect from the procedure to restore him to life, Shepard's skin had taken on a very elastic quality, being able to be stretched into nearly any shape. He thought it was cool at first, as any man would, but didn't see any practical application for it until one day when he tripped in the shower, fell backwards onto a bottle of shampoo, and it went straight up his ass. From that moment on, Commander Shepard knew that he should only use this power for good, but chose to use this to pleasure himself instead.
A few weeks later, after returning from a mission, Shepard was shocked to find that half the Normandy's crew had been kidnapped by the Collectors. He knew only a suicide mission could save them, but thought to himself "fuck it, I gotta go shove shit up my ass." Shepard went to his cabin, pushed down his pants, pulled his elastic asshole wide open, and began to shove in various items from around the room. Some pens, his model ship collection, his bed, everything just seem to fit inside there with no obvious damage to Shepard or changes in his proportions, like it was all going into a black hole in his back door. "Back door…" Shepard thought to himself, "I've been paying a lot of attention to my ass…. I wonder if I could shove something into my dick." Shepard grinned at the prospect. "But, what?" he thought as he scanned the room while kneading and pulling his Johnson.
Shepard had already shoved so much in his ass, but, his eyes eventually rested upon the next object to fall victim to his rubbery lust: Boo the Space Hamster. Shepard walked over to Boo's glass cage and clicked on it. About half a second later, the cute little ball of fuzz exited his home, sweetly crawled his way over to his owner, and loving gave of a soft squeak of "boo- SHEPARD DROVE HIS FIST THROUGH THE GLASS, WRAPPED HIS FINGERS TIGHTLY AROUND BOO, THEN SHOVED THE SPACE HAMSTER HEAD-FIRST INTO HIS STRETCH ARMSTRONG COCK! Boo kicked and bit and struggled to get out, but his efforts only served to make Shepard all the more horny. When Boo was half way inside Stretch Dickstrong, Shepard stopped, enjoying the feeling of the hamster trying to claw the top half of his body out of its fleshy prison. "I guess you could say," Shepard said as he stared at his dick while pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his ass and put them on "I got a boo-er." Soon, Shepard felt himself reaching his climax. He thrusted madly, knocking his sunglasses off in the progress. A tidal-wave of skeet attempted to force its way out of his gum-band of a dick. But it was un-able to escape, Boo served as a nice furry cock cork. Shepard's dick swelled in size due to skeet-backup, and he grinned with anticipation for the jizz to force Boo out. Nothing could ruin this perfect moment.
"Shepard!" came a space gypsy voice knocking on the door to his cabin. It was Tali. "I'm here with Garrus," she said, "we're wondering if you're finally going to give us a plan for rescuing the crew from the Collectors!" Shepard froze, and dared not answer them, hoping they'd assume he wasn't home. "Get a crowbar," Garrus said from behind the door. "I have a shotgun," Tali replied. Amidst the sound of shogun blasts shooting away at the door's locks, Shepard panicked. They couldn't see him like this! They might get the wrong impression and think he's some kind of sicko. Thinking fast, he pulled up his pants. But, his victoriously content smile turned back to fear when he realized the inhumanly large bulge in his pants, and to a lesser extent all the overturned furniture, knocked over items, and jizz on his cabin floor. "Well, that tears it," Shepard thought quietly so Garrus and Tali couldn't hear him, "I'm going to have to kill them. I'll just play it cool. I'll welcome them in, and, if they ask about the bulge, or the skeet, I'll shoot them." His smile faded when he remembered he had already shoved his gun up his ass.
With a final blast, the door fell, and Garrus and Tali stood open mouthed, gasping at the mess in the room and the bulging Commander Shepard standing in the middle of it. "um, sup guys, how's it hanging?" Shepard asked sheepishly. Without warning, the skeet in Shepard's cock forced its way out and sent Boo flying at Mach 2. He tore a hole through the front of Shepard's pants, flew across the room, and his Tali in the face, knocking her mask off. She contracted space AIDS and died on the spot. "Oh happy day!" Garrus cheered with enthusiasm, while Commander Shepard scratched his head in confusion. Garrus hopped his way over to Shepard, giving off the biggest smile the Commander had ever seen. "Shepard!" Garrus exclaimed "now that Tali is dead, I'll have no competition for your affection! I love you!" Shepard's heart skipped a beat, he smiled, as single tear trickled down his face. "Oh Garrus," he began, "I always wanted you to, but I just couldn't bring myself to say it." "Come on Shepard," Garrus said softly as he wrapped his arms around the Commander, "let's consummate our love!"
Without another word, Shepard pulled down his pants, pulled back his ass cheeks, and awaited Garrus' calibration of his rectum. Garrus undressed and whipped out his heavenly penis. He proceeded to douse Shepard's sphincter with dollops of Jim Dale's Extra Bold Hot and Spicy Bacon Flavoured Barbeque Sex Lube. Within seconds Commander Shepard's asshole was ablaze with both England and Texas all at once. Picoseconds later, a spicy bit of Palaven was added to the mix. They're calibrations were amazing, and lasted hours. Shepard never felt so happy in his entire life. He felt he could die of happiness right here and now. He closed his eyes and focused on Garrus' thrusting. He wanted this moment to never end.
Then it ended. At the sound of a gunshot and a thud, combined with the feeling of Garrus pulling out of his ass, Shepard opened his eyes. He soon wished he hadn't. There, lying on the floor was the lifeless body of Garrus, with a bullet hole in his head, oozing blood and skeet. Filled with overwhelming despair, Shepard turned his head, and shrieked at what stood at the door to his cabin. There, holding a smoking Colt 45 in his hand, and smiling with sadistic glee, was John Riccitiello. "I'ma make you my bitch," said the corporate killer as he pulled down his pants, exposing a vagina where his dick should be. Shepard gasped, but Riccitiello smiled even wider; it was only going to get worse. "Here's your happy ending!" he said while pulling back the musty folds of his man-gina to reveal a vaginal penis.
It all happened to quickly for Shepard to react. Before he knew it, Riccitiello had leapt across the room and shoved his cock into Shepard's ass. He thrusted madly and laughed maniacally. Shepard hated it and couldn't take anymore. The pain was terrible, even tough his manhood was small. Soon, Shepard no longer had the strength to even try to resist. He felt like dying; at least it would be an escape from this torment. Then, suddenly, without warning, all of the sudden, a hail of bullets shot across the room. They riddled Riccitiello's body, and he fell onto the floor, bleeding and convulsing. Shepard stared at the executive's quivering body for a few more seconds, until he stopped moving and his breathing ceased. He turned away from the dead businessman to see who had killed him. Shepard smiled with delight at who he saw. There, standing at the door, holding a warm AK-47, was the man who saved him, the man who killed John Riccitiello, the only man it could ever possibly be. It was… Mel Brooks!
Smiling as wide as he could manage, Shepard wanted to say a million different things to him. He opened his mouth, but Mel raised his hand. "Don't thank me just yet," he said, "you still have a galaxy to save and Reapers to kill." Shepard frowned, "but Mel," he began, "I've discovered myself sexually, I can't go back to my old life now that I've experienced so much! I need to stay like this, shoving things into my ass for all eternity." Mel cupped his chin in thought, "well," he said, "you do look like you're having fun…." Mel stood there in silence, as Shepard watched him in anxious anticipation for a reply. "How about a compromise," Mel asked, "a way that would allow you to kill the Reapers while still living the life of a sick fuck." Shepard smiled, "You mean I get to shove the Reapers up my ass?!" "Actually, I have a better idea," Mel said, "you know how you can stretch yourself into any shape?" "Of course," Shepard replied while demonstrating on his weenus. "Well," Mel said with a smile, "how would you feel about having your dick and the rest of your body stretched and pulled into the shape of a giant, skeet shooting rocket!" Shepard gasped with overjoyed glee "You're going to make me into a cockcet?!" "No, not me, I'm not perverted enough. But, I know someone who is," Mel said as he turned his head towards the door. In walked the man who would transform Shepard into a cocket. It was….Joe Biden!
Biden spent the next hour trying to re-shape Shepard's entire body into a penis shaped rocket: a cocket. After nearly tiring himself out, good ol' Diamond Joe realized that he had all the perversion he needed, but he just didn't have the strength. So, he called in someone to help him who was strong enough to pull Shepard's body into any shape, the Heavy Weapons Guy from Team Fortress 2, who upon entering Shepard's quarters looked around the room at all of the skeet stains and exclaimed in a loud voice "SO MUCH CUM!" Within the next thirty minutes the work was complete. Commander Shepard had become completely indistinguishable from his previous form. He no longer looked human, he was now a mass of flesh in the shape of a penis in the shape of a rocket, a cocket. He had never felt happier.
With a loud kaboom, Shepard the Cocket shot his skeet out of his lower exaust and propelled himself through the roof of the Normandy and into space. Traveling at light speed and propelling himself with his skeet, he went into dark space and skat on all over the Reapers, killing the fuck out of them. Then he went to the Collectors' base and skat all over them, killing the fuck out of them too. Then he skat all over the Batarians, then he skat all over the Citadel because that one guy dismissed his claims. Then he skat all over Bekenstein because some kid there looked at him funny one time he went there. He travelled from one end of the galaxy to the next, drenching entire planets in his never-ending supply of skeet and rendering them utterly lifeless for no apparent reason other than the fact that he could. Within a week, Shepard's skeet had permeated every square inch of the universe, and yet the SPECTRE Cocket kept skeeting, harder, faster, more forcefully! Skeet continued to poor out of Shepard the Cocket as the fourth wall began to buckle and crack under the pressure. Seconds later, the fourth wall burst open, and a veritable ocean of skeet poured into reality! Hundreds of thousand of millions of people died from the skeet tsunami, and millions of acres of land and seas became uninhabitable. Joe Biden tried to save everyone by building an ark for them but the skeet breeched the hull and thousands of passangers died of skeet poisoning then they struck a skeetburg of frozen skeet in the arctic ocean and the people tried to get away but they couldn't because Shepard kept skeeting and soon he skat so much that skeet…..skat…skeet….shepard…um…skat some skeet…..uh…..skeet…... MAN I'M ALL OUT OF IDEAS! FUCK THIS SHIT!