Chapter Text
I got the best night's sleep I'd had in weeks. Samantha’s vision of me naked at her feet fueled some intense orgasms, but other than us exchanging a glance and a laugh in CIC the next morning, nothing actually happened for a few days. I had my hands full, anyway, with the rachni and Grunt’s team. Jack's messages were going unread for half a day or more. Then I got one from her asking if my evening was open. When I said it was, I got back, "Your cabin, after dinner. She's in charge, let me know how it goes."
How needy was I, that even a vague message like that could spark a flame between my legs? I was disappointed that Jack didn't plan to be involved, but real-time communication wasn’t getting any easier.
I saw Samantha slip out of the mess hall, but told myself not to rush after her. I doubted that we could stay completely under the radar (although EDI had sworn that she would protect my privacy going forward), but we could at least try not to be obvious. I was still startled to find Samantha waiting outside my cabin when I went up. She was back in jeans and t-shirt, with a datapad in hand.
I glanced at the datapad and then her face, but she met my gaze neutrally, silent. Finally, I opened the door and waved her in.
She went directly to the sofa, although she sat at the end instead of behind the table like she did for chess.
I trailed after her. "What are we doing?"
"Please have a seat." She waved at the chair.
I sat. What had she said the other night, mind fuck? It felt like she was setting me up for that again. She met my eyes for a moment, and then her shoulders relaxed as she sighed.
“Sorry, I fall back on formality when I feel intimidated.” She held up a hand before I could voice my objection. “Jack may think of you as a puppy, but I feel like I’m taming a tiger. I’m well aware you could break me in half if you wanted to.”
Had Jack actually called me a puppy? Maybe it was while I was napping.
“To that point,” Samantha went on, “if you’re going to submit to me, it has to be by choice. I don’t have biotics or advanced combat training, and bondage seems like a terrible idea under the circumstances.”
I nodded in agreement. As much as I wanted to try it, bondage would slow me down in an emergency.
“I can be good,” I promised, giving her a coy smile.
It got the laugh I was hoping for. “Yes, you can. All right."
She looked at her datapad, scrolling through whatever was on it.
“You brought notes?” I asked, incredulous. It kinda turned me on, thinking she'd been analyzing me like juicy data, but it made me nervous, too. Fraternization, submission, even the prospect of sleeping with someone who wasn't Jack felt risky. Nevermind that it was Jack's idea.
She shrugged sheepishly. "I don't want to forget anything. I got over excited once and you got hurt. I'm not going to let it happen again. I know sex talk can be awkward, but please bear with me."
I waited while she found what she'd been looking for on the datapad. Then she went on.
"Let's start with consent. You and Jack may be comfortable playing without a net, but I need you to tell me you want this. Not just sex, domination and submission. BDSM."
I took a breath and leaned forward, bracing my hands on my knees. "Yes, I want to submit to you, Samantha.” Stating it so directly brought a fresh throb to my groin. “I'm not making a sacrifice, here. It's like…" I glanced to the side. "Like you're a gift Jack's giving me. Is that a bad thing to say?”
"No. It's perfect."
Her cheeks were distinctly flushed. Our eyes met for a moment, and then she went back to the notes. "There's more to it, of course, safewords and specifics, but let's put a pin in that. Um… I mentioned before: putting boundaries around play. Do you know what I mean by a scene, in BDSM terms?"
I shrugged. "Like when you tie somebody up and whip them?"
"That's the stereotypical version. What happened the other night was also a scene. Jack and I were provoking arousal and submissive feelings in you, accidentally at first, but we kept going because it excited us." She gave me a wry smile, not quite apologetic.
"The trouble is, since you didn't know it was going to happen, you didn't have a chance to say no."
"I wanted it," I pointed out quietly. I could feel myself slipping into that mindset just from the memory of them toying with me and talking about me.
"I know," she said, equally quiet. "Is it fair to say this is taking you places you haven't been before?"
I nodded.
"That's why you need veto power."
I nodded again, but leaned forward and laced my hands together. "I don't want to have a conversation every time I get turned on. That's a mood killer."
"Shepard, look at me."
I looked. She was smiling at me like I was a bit slow.
"Would it kill your mood if I look you in the eye and say, 'Are you ready to submit?'"
"Ah." I glanced away and spread my hands. "No."
"Good. It would definitely put me in the mood to hear you say 'Yes, Samantha.'"
I groaned. "I thought you weren't provoking me."
"I'm allowed to talk about what turns me on as much as you are. The point is, there's a boundary. You can say no, even if you never want to."
"Ok, sure."
"Are you happy with that to start a scene? I ask if you're ready, and you answer?"
"Yeah."
She updated the notes. "The other reason we need a boundary is that when you say yes, the rules change."
"They change?" I sat back again, raising an eyebrow.
“We already have different rules in public and private," she pointed out.
In public, we were doing our jobs. In private… well. I shrugged.
"Being in a scene or out of it adds another layer. Like you kissing me: you wouldn't do it in public, and you were only required to ask for it inside the scene. Outside of it, like now, there's more flexibility. Does that make sense?"
"So… I could kiss you right now?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Not right now. Imp."
I grinned. I got it. "Ok, rules."
"Jack and I came up with ground rules we think will work, provided you feel the same. They're - here, it's easier to let you read it than to talk through every detail."
She offered me the datapad and I took it curiously. The open document was as neatly organized as any of her official reports: sections and subsections, precisely labeled and corralled into lists that could be scanned at a glance, outlining details of how we were supposed to interact in what contexts. I grinned fondly at the characteristic attention to detail, but my eyes had already started taking in the subject matter and the smile faded.
Some of it I knew about already: she had to initiate private, sexual encounters, not me. That was part of how Jack convinced me to even give this a shot: it had to be on her terms, not mine. And both of us would keep in touch with Jack, who was an arbiter of sorts.
Outside of a scene we could cuddle or make out, as long as clothes stayed on. In a scene…
Jack wanted me to wear the plug whenever I was naked. Of course she did. I wasn't shocked, but it still hit me right in the cunt. She'd told Samantha about that. Sam knew , she'd see, maybe even watch the black silicone stretch and invade me.
I clapped a hand over my mouth to contain a squeak. I felt heavy, like there was a kind of gravity pulling me to fall on my knees for her.
"You all right?"
I nodded but couldn't look at her.
"Can you tell me what you're reacting to?"
I swallowed. "The… plug."
She hummed sympathetically. "That idea came from you, originally."
I wasn't sure my face could get redder, but it tried. "Did you cover all of this while I was asleep?"
"No, we've been corresponding. You didn't know?"
"Apparently she's talked to you more than me this week."
"Oh, for - " Samantha rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry, I should have made sure she had your permission."
I shook my head firmly. "It's fine."
"It feels invasive."
My stomach fluttered. I closed my eyes. I'd been caught off guard, but it was like listening to them talk about me on the call. It felt… right.
"That's the point," I said softly.
"Oh." She paused for a moment. "I see. You want her to cross boundaries."
I nodded again. Sam started to say something else, but I sat back and made a 'time out' gesture. “Sidebar.”
She sat back, too, still and attentive. "What is it?"
"How much have the folks who were there told you about Jack, when we met?"
"Only a little. Gabby and Ken said she was pretty unstable when she first came aboard, but she settled down once you got involved."
I rolled my eyes. "I get so sick of people saying she's unstable, she's crazy, like the problem is her and not the shit she's been through. Like they could have survived half of it and come out as well. Everything Cerberus did? And then she escaped as a kid and lived on the run for… a decade? Until bounty hunters caught her. They…" I paused and looked Sam in the eye as I fell back on Jack's euphemism. "...'used' her and threw her in cryo when she was still tough enough to get back at them. That's where we found her."
Samantha's mouth opened in shock, but I kept going.
"I earned her trust. I had to prove myself to even get close to her. If she started asking permission, I'd feel like I’d lost that. So, yeah, she gets a lot of fucking latitude. I trust her to know where the lines are. Do you need me to put that in writing or something?"
"No, of course not," Sam protested. "But thank you for saying it."
She took a deep breath and blinked up at the open portal, where the stars were distorted by the mass effect field around the ship. "When violence is normal, putting this much structure around sex must seem absurd. I'm trying to impose a framework that - "
"Samantha." I waited until I had her focus. "The fact she told you so much? That she’s into the idea of sharing me with you? You impressed her. Maybe it’s because you're taking her seriously, as - my Dom.” Oof, saying that aloud gave me a tingle. "And you went toe-to-toe with her. You didn't seem intimidated, then."
She laughed dryly. "It helped that she wasn't in the room. And she's not the one I have a crush on."
I laughed, too. I knew I’d thrown her off balance, so I tried to get us back on track. "You want to tame me?"
She just raised her eyebrows and gave a little shrug.
I stared her down for a moment, and she didn't flinch. Good. I waved at the datapad. "Don't ask if I want this. Tell me you want it, and trust me to handle it. You're not gonna break me."
She frowned at me the way she sometimes did at the chessboard, intent but distant, like her mind could burrow into the future and explore every potentiality.
I leaned back and stretched my legs out.
Eventually, her gaze cleared and she sat forward, rubbing her hands together like she was preparing to make her move. “Would you bring me the plug, please?”
I blinked at her in surprise. “Is that an order?”
“No, you’re free to refuse. Although I’d have to wonder why.”
I hesitated a moment longer, then got up to retrieve the toy from the bathroom, where I’d left it after cleaning. I couldn’t avoid the mirror and looked myself in the eyes. What the hell was I doing? The galaxy was burning, and here I was going down some sexual rabbit hole that I'd already seen could mess up my head.
If this were some other war, maybe I could talk myself out of it. But the Alpha Relay had been just the first of choices I never would have made, if not in the name of sheer survival. This? My brain said it was a stupid risk, with so much on the line. My gut said maybe the only way to keep your head in an insane war was with a little insanity. And what did we have going for us except Hail Marys?
When I came back, Samantha had the datapad in hand again. I didn’t know if there was etiquette for sex toys, but it seemed rude to make her touch the part that had been in my ass. I held the insertable end and offered the base silently.
She took it with a thoughtful hum. "Thank you. Simple, classic. I like it."
I hovered, waiting for her to hand it back, but she waved at the chair. "You can sit."
I sat, though I watched the plug like she might try to keep it from me. That was ridiculous, but it felt too personal, too private for her to just… have, even temporarily.
She was gazing at the rocket-shaped toy, too. "What does this mean to you? Emotionally, when you put it inside you."
My gut said "it means I'm hers" but I tried to be more eloquent than that. "That, um… that she's with me?" I shook my head; that sounded stupid. "It's not something I normally do. Anal. It feels good but it's also… crossing a boundary." I laughed and glanced up.
Samantha nodded. "Which makes you feel closer to her."
I spread my hands in acknowledgement.
With a small smile, she stretched forward to give it back. "You and Jack are in complete accord on that. Maybe some embarrassment is part of the fun for you, but I think it's a sweet way to feel connected."
I blushed again. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I held the plug awkwardly for a moment, then set it on the table.
"I," she went on, with heavy emphasis, "want to talk about things that might break you."
I raised an eyebrow skeptically, but didn't try to stop her as she flipped through screens. Once she found what she wanted, she looked at me gravely.
"I've already reiterated to Jack - less dramatically - that I will not be part of this if she puts you in a position where you have to choose between us. I’ll happily fuck with your head but I won’t set you up for failure. I think she understands."
I nodded. As silly as I felt for the strength of my reaction at the time, I could see her point. My sanity wouldn’t withstand many moments like that.
"I'm also not up for anything with significant physical risk, like breath play or blood play. I don't have the impression you want to go there, but just to be clear: I'm not taking chances with your life."
I blinked. "Yeah, I'm good with that."
"You made your feelings clear enough about us arguing in a scene. Is there anything else you can think of that would be a deal-breaker for you?"
I tried to think seriously about it, but it was hard to imagine something going that wrong. I could forgive almost anything, once. "I don’t know. Don't come at me with thresher maw acid?"
She made a face. "Unlikely."
"I figured. And don't fuck with the implants. I don't even know if you could, but Jack did something with her biotics once that was… indescribable. And probably stupid."
“I think that falls under not taking chances," Sam agreed. "That seems like a good segue to safewords. I gather you and Jack never really had that conversation.”
I shrugged. “Not as such. I think I said I was a big girl and could tell her to stop. And I have.”
“Ok. Let’s upgrade. In BDSM, it's common to use multiple safewords. At least two: one that’s a hard stop, as in ‘end the scene right now,’ and one that’s more like a pause button. They should be memorable and hard to confuse for other words. Jack suggested ‘Teltin’ and ‘Pragia.’ Are those meaningful to you?”
I laughed. “She’s not fucking around. Is ‘Teltin’ the hard stop?”
“Yes. I know Pragia is a planet, but what’s Teltin?”
“The name of the facility where Cerberus held her as a kid. We blew it up last year.”
Samantha blinked. "That's intense."
“But memorable. And Jack would never ignore it."
She nodded. "That works for yours, then. If I need to pause a scene, I'll do something like you did just now and call a timeout. Nothing fancy."
I shrugged. "Ok."
She started to say something else, then paused and rubbed her forehead. "Ending a scene. I've got the cart before the horse, sorry. To end a scene normally, why don't I say, 'You’re free’? As in, free from following the rules." She grimaced. "If you think of something sexier, I’m open to alternatives."
"That's fine," I agreed. It was simple, to the point.
"Thanks. Then, if I need to end a scene prematurely, when it might be a difficult moment for you to stop, why don't I say 'Horizon' to let you know that it’s serious?"
I laughed faintly. "Um, yeah. That should get my attention. Do you think you'll need to do that?"
"Hopefully not, but it's always better to be prepared. See, if I'd done it right I would have called a timeout rather than yelling at Jack, and that could have had a more enjoyable ending for you."
"Tonight could have a more enjoyable ending for me." I shrugged and grinned hopefully.
“Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed, but I could tell she was fighting a laugh. She looked at the datapad again. “First we're going to finish talking about the rules, because that's what I need from you."
I nodded in acceptance. Point taken. "Yes, Samantha."
Her gaze flickered to my face and I thought she might tell me I didn't have to say that yet, but then it returned to the screen in front of her.
After more updates, she offered it back to me in the place it had been before: rules.
"These were mostly Jack's idea. I offered some fine-tuning but she has an instinct for dominance. And you."
It wasn't a long list, but by the time I got through it I was aching again. “Between her instincts and your structure, I think I'm in trouble."
Her mouth twitched in amusement. "Concerns?"
Some of it was minor restrictions that Jack asked for: only she could do anal play (it would be difficult to do much with the plug there, anyway), only she could call me ‘good girl,’ she was the only one I addressed as 'ma'am.' I understood: she wanted to keep the most intimate things between us.
Then there were the sorts of limitations I expected on sex: I wasn’t allowed to 'stimulate' myself during a scene unless instructed to and I wasn't allowed to come unless given permission. I sensed Sam’s influence in the wording.
My head had started to spin on the one that said I couldn't put my hands on Samantha, only my mouth (with permission). Sam might have helped with the wording, but apparently Jack remembered my comment about being a sentient sex toy. The last one wasn't from me, but equally dizzying: I wasn't allowed to speak unless told to or asked a question.
"I can't touch or talk?"
She shrugged. “Since I don't have physical means to control you, obligating you to control yourself should help keep you in the right frame of mind."
The way my body reacted said she was right. I could almost feel the rules binding me. Not talking was going to be a challenge, but hardly the biggest one I’d faced.
I licked my lips, nervous but only enough to add to the excitement. “What if I fuck up?”
Her mouth opened, then closed again. Her gaze went sideways and she flushed as bright as I'd seen yet.
I laughed in confusion. "What? What'd I say?"
"Sorry." She winced, though there was a smile with it. "I knew this part of the conversation was coming, but you caught me off guard."
"Cause I asked about fucking up?" I squinted at her.
"Yes. Are you imagining corporal punishment? Spanking? Whipping of some kind?"
She was still a little pink and breathless. The pieces clicked together in my head.
I grinned and leaned back. "You want to spank me.”
Her voice jumped an octave. "Yes! But not to punish you. I'm just a sadist." She eyed the door like she was about to bolt.
"Samantha." I laughed. "Relax. I’m down for that."
"You are?" She heaved such a sigh of relief that I felt it vicariously.
"Yeah. Get Jack's approval and I'm in."
"I… may have already brought it up with her." She rubbed the back of her neck, giving me that wry smile of non-apology.
"And?"
"She said if it happens, she wants to be on a call with us."
I nodded. "Seems fair. Let her enjoy the sound effects."
Sam cleared her throat, wincing again. "Well, that, uh… didn't answer your question.”
“No,” I agreed, indifferent. “Maybe we could take a break from the Q & A? I really want to kiss you.”
Her gaze darkened and I thought for a second she was going to agree, but then she shook it off. “No. We’re going to finish talking about breaking the rules. It's important.”
I sighed and scratched my head. “All right.”
“I asked Jack about this, but she was less forthcoming than on other topics. The two of you haven't agreed on consequences for breaking her rules?”
"Not really." I grimaced. I hadn't brought up punishment again since the fantasy I'd shared. "There's not much she can do, under the circumstances."
"Have you broken them?" Samantha asked mildly. "Do you need consequences?"
"Of course not. I'm the one who asked her to… set rules. I just… if I did screw up, I wouldn't want her to let me off the hook."
Her head tilted, which I was starting to recognize as a sign she saw through me. "Or you'd feel like she didn't care?"
My chest tightened and I looked away. "I'm tired of talking." I looked back at her with my face scrunched up in a plea. "I can live without the kiss, but could I just hold you?"
She frowned at me in concern, then beckoned with a lift of her head.
I made an effort to move casually over to the sofa rather than leap across. She scooted to make room for me and I tucked myself against her side, wrapping an arm around her waist while her arm went around my shoulders. I smelled that soothing scent, stronger with my face right against her.
When she combed my hair back with her other hand, I sighed in relief. "Sorry, all this submission stuff makes me clingy. That's really why…"
"Why Jack wanted me to sleep with you?" She laughed. "You know, if all you need is someone to cuddle with - "
"No! I would never be okay with treating you as a surrogate. And you're so much more than we bargained for." I tightened my arm around her. "I'm a greedy bitch and I want you."
She brushed a finger across my forehead. "Are you, now?"
I felt a twinge of disloyalty at how much I wanted her. Especially the spanking she was offering. But maybe that was good, that she could give me different things than Jack.
“Did Jack tell you I offered to let her spank me, once?”
“No, I don’t believe she did.”
“Yeah, that was… heavy flirting. She was blowing off steam and threatened to beat my ass. I told her to do it. I thought I could take it, but she didn’t want to. She was honestly worried about hurting me.” I shrugged. “She was angrier then, but she’s still nervous about punishment. Which is weird, since violence is just foreplay for us.”
Samantha hummed thoughtfully. “There are ways to handle - let’s call it correction - that aren’t violent, or even physical, and can be done remotely. It’s a conversation worth having, but your biggest challenge with Jack isn’t lacking a means of correction.“ She tapped my shoulder pointedly. “It’s that infractions would have to be self-reported.”
“True.” Unless I were to break the rules for the sake of telling Jack and being punished, there wasn’t much point in worrying about what the punishment was.
Her fingers played over my shoulder idly as she went on. “In our circumstances, self control will be a more pressing concern. Unless I misunderstand and you want me to go easy on you."
I shook my head minutely. "No."
"In that case, I'd be inclined to use ice for correction." I could hear the smile in her voice.
I leaned back to peer at her. "Ice?"
She nodded. "It's commonplace, reasonably safe, and damned uncomfortable."
"What the hell would you do with it?" I had visions of ice in places I really didn't want it.
She actually giggled. Her fingers moved up from my shoulder, caressing my neck and throat. "If you get chatty I can order you to hold a piece in your mouth until it melts. Pretty effective as a gag, and I don't even have to stop what I'm doing. Same with your hands. Hard to get grabby with ice clutched in your fists."
I hid my face against her shoulder. There was an elegance to it. It would be chilling, literally and figuratively.
Her fingers reached my jaw, gently urging me to look at her. She twisted her head around so she could meet my eyes.
"If you come without permission?"
I cringed, but let her hold my gaze. She gave me a gentle smile, that creased the corners of her mouth and showed a sliver of sparkling teeth between her lips. Was the slight pinkness a lip gloss or was that just their color?
"Can I trust you to handle that, tiger? When I can't restrain you?"
Tiger. The thrill that gave me was overshadowed by my dread of what she'd do with the ice. "I don't really want to find out."
Her smile broadened with amusement. "It wouldn't be corrective if you weren't motivated to avoid it."
She leaned in to kiss my forehead, then wrapped both arms around me in a tight hug.
When she let go, her neck was invitingly close. I gave into temptation and kissed it. Her head tipped back, giving me access, so I did it again, nipping and sucking gently. Her hand went into my hair.
That was reassuringly familiar. I made my way up her neck, leaned closer and braced myself lightly with a hand against the side of her breast. She turned her head towards me. Our lips met.
The kiss was leisurely, until her hand tightened and she pulled me back, like scruffing a kitten. “You certainly know what you’re doing,” she said with a laugh. “But if you try to kiss me again, I’m calling it a night.”
“Please don’t,” I whispered. The kiss had set a spark to the gas of my arousal, and her commanding grip in my hair wasn’t helping.
She pressed her lips together in a sympathetic frown. “Ok, we’re done talking for now. We’re both overwhelmed.”
She released my hair and smoothed it down. I waited, expecting her to ask the question. Start a scene.
"We're not going to play, either," she said, as though I'd spoken.
I wanted to wail WHY like a child. I didn't, but she went on, still reading my mind.
"I want you more now than I did when I got here. But. We both need to sleep on this before we get any more vulnerable."
Her eyes searched my face for a moment. A small corner of my brain not flooded with hormones knew she was right. I sat back on the sofa, but still let out a petulant sigh.
She rubbed my arm where she could reach it. "I can offer aftercare. Would it help to lie down again?"
"Probably."
"Shall I step out so you can masturbate, first?"
Surprisingly, I didn't blush at that. I shook my head. "No, I'll be ok." If we weren't going to fuck now, I should wait until I was actually going to sleep.
I scooted forward. “I’m gonna take a leak and… can I change clothes? How ‘dressed’ do I have to be?” These rules and boundaries felt so unnatural.
“Jack didn’t pin that one down very clearly. My gut says enough to be acceptable in public.”
I nodded. In the end, we both took a leak and got a drink. I swapped shirt and bra for a tank top and jeans for gym shorts. Samantha shed her bra, too, wrestling it off under her shirt. I offered her a pair of shorts but she declined.
All the awkward figuring out and maneuvering gave my body a chance to calm down. By the time we settled in, me curling against her much more effectively than on the sofa, I could enjoy the closeness and comfort for their own sake.
I kissed her shoulder. "Still intimidated?"
She laughed softly. “Less so. I see now you’re an overgrown lap cat.”
Her fingers in my hair again made me wish I could purr. I chuckled.
“Thanks… I think. You’re right, I needed this. I don’t want to give up the Dom/sub thing with Jack; it’s all we’ve got right now. And it fucking turns me on, but when she can’t hold me…” I blinked furiously for a moment.
Samantha pressed a finger to my lips. I was starting to be fond of that. “We could all use more holding, out here. You’re not asking for something I wouldn’t give, anyway.”
I nodded and forced myself to quiet down, focusing on her warmth, the rise and fall of her chest, the faint rhythm of her heart under my ear. I tried to banish the voice that said I couldn’t offer enough: for Jack, for Samantha, for this war. If it seemed like this relationship was making things harder, I’d have to reconsider. For now it was making things better.