Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Samantha came in, I was mute for a second. She always dressed down when we got together off duty, t-shirt and jeans instead of her uniform, but this wasn't down. It wasn't quite up, either. Her hair was pulled back in a braid of some kind, making the angles of her face look sharper in isolation. Her sleeveless shirt, loose but not baggy, was a pale color that my eyes couldn't pin down between green and blue. It contrasted beautifully with her brown skin and the darker pants, a comfortable lounge style that I thought I’d seen some asari wearing. Had to be from the Citadel.

I laughed, feeling a weight lift. “You didn’t come to play chess.”

She tilted her head. “Does Jack play chess?”

I laughed harder. “I’m not sure Jack’s seen a chess board in her life. I take it she’s been leaning on you, too?”

Sam snorted, settling into the chair across from me. “She didn’t have to lean very hard.”

“So that fuss about my reputation…?”

“Testing the water. And I was trying to throw you off your game. Then your girlfriend came aboard.” She whistled appreciatively. “I didn’t think the mild-mannered science nerd was any competition.”

I shook my head. “I thought you objected to fraternizing. You may still decide you don’t want to be a part of this. Jack… doesn’t do anything by the book, and she's incredibly headstrong. Please don’t let her pressure you into something you’re not comfortable with. I waited to call her because I want to be absolutely clear that you can turn us down.”

I stared hard but she just shrugged. “Don’t kid yourself. You're Shepard. Even if you weren't my commanding officer, the idea of sex with you would make me weak in the knees. I’m not saying nothing would scare me away, but ‘the regs’ are not a hard limit.”

I sighed in surrender and pulled up my omni-tool to call Jack. To my relief, she answered right away.

“Hey. Did she make it?”

Samantha and I responded in stereo: yes.

“Good. So. Shepard needs to get laid.”

I glanced at Sam and pressed a hand to my face. This was bound to be awkward, but I hadn’t expected her to jump to the point that quickly.

Sam cast her eyes towards the source of Jack’s voice, above us. “How do you intend to solve that problem?”

“You want her, don’t you?”

I propped my elbows on my knees and hid my face in both hands. Did she have to talk about me like I was for sale?

“Obviously. Are you offering her to me?”

God damn it, I was getting turned on. Already.

“No! Yes. On my terms.” Jack hadn’t expected Sam to meet her head-on. Neither had I, to be honest. I was impressed.

“Which are…?”

There was a long silence. I wasn’t sure why Jack hesitated. We’d talked about this: she wanted me to ‘get laid’ since she couldn’t give me the physical contact I needed, more desperately than usual since we'd started playing around with rules, domination and submission. She just wanted to be kept in the loop, to feel like a part of it, same as with my ‘thank you’ messages.

“Jack?”

“Give me a minute.”

She’d convinced me this could work. Was she having second thoughts? “You don’t have to - “

“Give me a minute,” she insisted. After a few more seconds, she took a deep breath. “She’s mine, got it? She belongs to me.”

“Shepard?” Sam’s voice was gentler, concerned. “Do you agree with that?”

I made myself raise my head and look at her, nodding. I couldn’t blame her for being alarmed. “She calls the shots.”

“Oh. You can tell me you’re in a Dom/sub relationship. I'm fine with that.”

I gaped like a fish for a few seconds, while Sam’s head slowly tilted to the side and a bemused smile spread across her face. 

“That is what you’re telling me?”

“I - yeah. Yes.” I nodded firmly.

“Thank you. That simplifies things, given my own… inclination.”

I blinked at her in confusion, but Jack spoke up before I managed to put thoughts into words.

“Inclination?”

“To dominance?"

“You’ve never struck me as dominant.” I raised an eyebrow.

She glared at me and countered, “You’ve never struck me as submissive.”

I tipped my head, conceding her point. Books and covers.

“Are we still talking about getting Shepard laid?” Jack interjected.

“We are, Jack,” Sam assured her. “As her - Dominant? Dom? Is there another word you use?” She had to know she’d caught us flat-footed, more comfortable in this realm than we were, but stroking Jack’s ego was in her best interest.

“Whatever, Dom’s good.”

“Yes. As her Dom, of course you want to know she’s properly cared for in your absence.”

'Cared for.' Like I was a pet. I tried to shake off how warm that made me feel. Not just my face and my groin, but somewhere in my core.

There was another pause, and I wondered again if Jack was having second thoughts, but finally she said, "That's the idea."

"Then we're back to the question of terms. What did you have in mind?"

"Terms?" I blurted. I felt like I might implode if they didn't stop talking about me like that.

"Sorry, did I misunderstand?"

"No," Jack said firmly. "What's the matter, Shepard?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm ok, never mind."

But Sam was shaking her head, frowning in concern. "Wait. What are the terms of your relationship?"

"She's - "

"Jack, let me answer that."

Jack subsided with a grumble. I made a point to look Samantha in the eye.

"Jack does what she wants with me. She plays rough and doesn't ask permission and I like it that way." I smiled crookedly. "That's how I know I'm hers."

Sam's brow relaxed, to my relief. "What if she does something you don't want?"

"Then I tell her to stop."

"'Stop' is your safeword?"

"Safeword? I guess you could say that."

"That's what you told me," Jack said.

Had I? I'd almost forgotten I said something to that effect. I hadn't meant it so concretely, but it worked.

Sam nodded, looking speculative. "Do you feel Jack could extend her authority to me, on a limited basis?"

I swallowed as arousal flared between my legs. I forced my gaze to stay on Sam, as much as part of me wanted to hide.

"Shepard?" Jack prodded.

"It's your call," I said softly.

"But you're hot for her."

"Fuck, yes," I agreed, just as softly. There was an answering flush in Samantha's cheeks.

"Want her to kiss you?"

I licked my lips. "Yeah."

"Show her your manners, maybe she'll feel sorry for you."

Sam's eyes flickered towards Jack's voice, then back to me with a pensive smile.

I scooted forward on the seat, not sure what to do with my body. I settled at the edge, making myself accessible, and braced my hands on either side of me.  "Please kiss me, Sam?"

She kept looking at me for a moment, then pulled her chair close enough that she could trace my lips with a fingertip.

"How does she like to be kissed, Jack?"

Jack snorted. "She'll take it any way you want to give it."

Sam's lips thinned in annoyance. I felt for her; sometimes getting a useful answer out of Jack took a few tries.

"She doesn't have preferences? A lot of tongue, no tongue? Gentle, rough?"

"Uh… If you want her soaking her panties and begging for more, go deep and hard. Hold her down. And put your hands in her hair; she can't get enough of that."

Samantha combed a hand through my hair curiously, studying my reaction. This close, I smelled a soft scent on her. It made me want to stop and breathe it in, like walking by a lilac bush. I gave up on keeping my eyes open and leaned into the touch.

"I see. That calms her down."

"What, her hair? Does she need calmed down?"

"Unless I'm much worse at reading body language than I think, hearing you talk about kissing her had nearly the effect on her of doing it."

Jack chuckled. "Is she all pink and bashful?"

Sam's fingers brushed my forehead. "Precisely."

"Fuck, I'm jealous already."

Her fingers continued down my cheek, and when I turned my head she let me nuzzle her hand like a cat.

"This is intense for you, isn't it? Listening to us talk about you like you're not right here?"

I nodded.

"Let Jack hear you," she prompted, so I breathed out, "Yes."

"Too intense?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Good. I'd hate to have to stop.” Her hand continued down my chest, pushing me back into the sofa. “If you’re this discombobulated from a little talk, I can’t wait to see you naked and on your knees."

That was a hell of an image. I opened my eyes, wanting to see my excitement mirrored in hers. Her eyes were wide and bright, her lips pressed together in a tight smile, like she could barely contain herself.

I longed to cling to her for stability, but I wasn't sure that was allowed. "Please, can I hold you?"

She blinked in surprise.

"What happened to kissing?" Jack asked.

Sam put a hand on my knee. "Hold that thought." To Jack, she said, "Hard isn't really my style, and I don't stand a chance of holding her down."

"Then don't," Jack said. "Just tell her what you want. She's a good girl, she'll behave."

My eyes snapped shut again, as though I could hide inside myself. My face burned hotter than ever. To say nothing of my cunt.

"Wow." Samantha laughed incredulously. "She's about to spontaneously combust." She rubbed my leg. "Is that embarrassment, or a praise kink?"

I couldn't answer at first. I focused on breathing.

Jack prodded me again. "Shepard?"

"I'm yours, Jack." They were the only words I could find.

"Fuck, yeah, you're mine," she echoed gently. "You gonna be good for Sam?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Samantha's fingers combed through my hair again, which helped. "Can you look at me?"

I opened my eyes and found hers, but still focused on the rise and fall of my diaphragm.

"Do you feel safe right now?"

I nodded. "Yes." I felt like I was coming apart at the seams, but I trusted Jack, and I was starting to trust Samantha, to keep me together.

She rubbed my shoulder. "Hands behind your back, please."

I complied, sandwiching my arms between my back and the sofa. It had the side effect of pulling my shoulders back and straightening my spine. I was glad my shirt was on.

"Thank you." Her pleased smile lit a glow in the pit of my stomach. She rested a fingertip on my lips. "Do you still want a kiss?"

"Please?" I whispered.

She pressed the finger down for a moment, then removed it. "Ask again, and use my proper name to show respect."

There was a low hum of approval from Jack, but I stayed focused. "Please kiss me, Samantha?"

Her face lit up with affection. She braced her knee between my legs, making me groan, as she took my head in both hands. I was keenly aware of her closeness, her breasts outlined by the soft shirt and the curves of her hips that my hands would fit perfectly against. Her scent was everywhere.

Then she leaned in and my attention narrowed to her lips, pressing tenderly, and her tongue indulging in a slow, thorough exploration that was nearly as overwhelming as Jack's rough kisses. I caught myself rutting against her knee and stopped. Somehow, even though I was whimpering and short of breath, she broke away with no more loss of composure than a satisfied sigh.

She pulled back far enough to look at me, leaning on the wall with one hand and curling the other against the base of my skull, rubbing idly.

"Was that what you had in mind?"

I took a deep breath. I was still fighting the urge to rut against her. "Hell, yes."

Jack laughed. "Is she a better kisser than me?"

"Don't ask her to compare us, Jack!" Samantha snapped, shocking me. "That's not fair, she's too vulnerable - "

"Hey!" Jack snapped back. "She's mine, remember?"

Sam hugged my head to her chest protectively. I could only be still and silent, waiting for them to be done.

"Yes, Jack," Sam said, her voice softer but thick with emotion. "She's yours. You didn't see her glow when you called her a good girl. Don't put her in a position where she can only please one of us."

She relaxed her hold on my head and smoothed my hair down. "Sorry. You ok?"

I pulled back, staring at the hem of her shirt so I didn't have to look at her. "No."

She stepped back so quickly she almost tripped over the chair.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked.

I pulled my arms out from behind me and rolled my shoulders, trying to get back to something like my normal self.

"Shepard?"

"Let me think." I glanced at Sam, who was fidgeting anxiously. "Samantha, please sit down."

She sat.

I leaned my elbows on my knees again and balled my hands together, staring at them while I waited for my breathing and heart rate to settle and the ache between my legs to fade. There was still a persistent buzz under my skin, the one I got when I'd been turned on too long without an outlet.

"Jack, I love you, I appreciate what you're trying to do for me, and I need you to be really fucking honest with yourself about whether you can handle this without feeling threatened. Samantha's right, you were playing dirty.”

Jack sighed. "Yep, sorry."

I nodded in acceptance and looked at Sam, who grimaced and gestured towards the door. "I can go."

I stared at her until she met my eyes, reluctantly. "You're on the front line now, Traynor. You gonna run away?"

Her jaw set and she settled her weight in the seat. "No."

"Good. You are, as usual, right. That was intense. I was vulnerable. And you scared the hell out of me."

Her lips trembled, but to her credit she didn't interrupt me.

"Look, you two figure out how to work out differences of opinion. But for god's sake not over my head that you've got so fucked up I can barely talk. Promise me."

"I promise," Samantha said instantly. "I'm sorry, I know better."

"Jack? You too."

"Yeah, I promise," she responded, to my relief.

"Thank you." I sighed heavily and stared at my hands again.

Eventually, Jack said, "Now what's happening?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I still felt the buzz of pent-up arousal, but I couldn't find anything to say.

"Shepard?" Samantha asked. "How can I make it better?"

I stared at her, still mute for a long moment. I had to let go of the iron grip I had on myself to speak. "Hold me?" I pleaded, embarrassed when it came out nearly a sob.

"Of course." She moved smoothly from the chair to my side and put her arms around me. I surrendered easily when she pulled me against her. When she stroked my hair, I shuddered with relief.

"Is she ok?"

"Physically fine, just overwhelmed. What do you do when you want to relax her?"

"Uh… you know about her hair. And rub her back, shoulders." Jack hesitated, then added, "Spoon with her. She's a sponge for touch."

"Can we do that? We'll keep our clothes on, just lie down and cuddle."

"Ok. Whatever she needs."

Sam turned and nudged me back enough to look at me. "Do you want to lie down?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

She stood and offered me a hand up. I was taken aback by how unsteady I was, but I made it to the bed and toed my shoes off before I laid down.

"What the hell happened?" Jack asked, as Samantha settled in with me. "All you did was kiss."

Samantha wrapped an arm around my waist and found my hand, lacing our fingers together. I relaxed against her heat and weight, listening to them distantly.

"Have you ever talked about her to anyone the way you did to me? Where she could hear you, anyway."

"No."

"Right. You didn't know what a mind fuck that would be for her. None of us did, but once I saw it, I should have stopped it. You and I started fighting like bad parents, she pulled herself together to scold us, and then she shut down.”

Jack grumbled faintly. “It's not like her; she doesn't just shut down."

I turned my face into the pillow with a sigh. Trust Jack to say what part of me was thinking.

Samantha's hand tightened around mine. "I can try to explain, but I don't want to put words in your mouth."

I shook my head. I didn't feel up to verbalizing anything yet. "Go ahead."

She addressed Jack's ephemeral presence again. "It's like we sent her into combat in her underpants. And then… I… shot her in the back."

"Yeah," Jack growled.

"Jack." I cut her off sternly, afraid she was about to lay into Samantha.

She huffed at me, but repeated more gently, “Yeah. I didn't help."

"Thank you," I acknowledged, and nuzzled back into the pillow.

"So you know a lot about this Dom/sub shit?" she asked Samantha.

"Some. I got involved with the BDSM scene around London while I was at Oxford, but I drifted away from it once I graduated. Location and the military got in the way. I was frustrated, anyway: it's hard to be taken seriously as a dominant when you’re shy and quiet in public life. You heard Shepard's reaction."

Jack chuckled. "Right."

“How did the two of you get into this?”

“It was her idea,” Jack said, like she hadn’t been dominating me since the first time she fucked me. But she had a point: I was the one who always pushed to go further.

The next thing I knew, Samantha was nudging me awake. “Shepard, Jack wants to say good night.”

I blinked groggily. “Jack… sorry, didn’t mean to drift off on you.”

“Feeling better?"

“I’m ok,” I assured her. I did feel a lot better for the nap. And the physical contact. The electric undercurrent was actually gone, for once. “Rough landing, but I’d try that ride again.”

“Good. Sam and I got some shit figured out; we’ll let you in on it soon.”

I snorted. Letting me in on it now would be too easy. “Love you, Jack.”

“Love you, too, dumbass.” The call ended with a beep.

Samantha started to get up, and I rolled to look at her. “Do you have to go?”

“Someone will notice if I’m not in my bunk, eventually," she pointed out as she stepped into her shoes. "Do you need anything else? I still feel awful - “

“Sam. Samantha. I wasn’t the only one that got intense for, was I?”

She smiled sheepishly. “No.”

I heaved myself off the bed. “I heard what you said to Jack. None of us saw that coming. You promised you won’t fight over me again, that’s good enough for me.”

“Ok. Thanks.”

I pushed my bangs back from my forehead. They needed a trim, almost long enough to fall into my eyes. “Please, Samantha? Could I get a good night kiss?”

She actually blushed, but she shook her head. "One thing Jack and I discussed, to avoid another mess like tonight, is that you and I need to put clear boundaries around when we play. We're not, right now, so if you want to kiss me…"

Her mouth turned up in a hopeful smile. I took the cue, tugged her against me and kissed her greedily.

We both laughed when I let her go. She rubbed a finger at the corner of her mouth. "Now I understand how you came by that reputation."

I grinned. "Practice makes perfect."

"You're an imp." She rolled her eyes. "Good night, Shepard."

I sighed as she turned to go, already missing her body next to mine. "Good night, Samantha."

At least I had extra fodder for getting myself off. Which I intended to do promptly.

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.

Chapter Text

I probably wasn’t waiting as long as it seemed, but when you’re naked and blindfolded on your knees, time gets a little warped. When the door opened, I had to fight the instinct to turn and look, even with the blindfold. It couldn't be anyone but Samantha.

"She's ready, Jack. Exactly as instructed. Yes, she's wearing her plug. And the blindfold. Towel, lube, everything’s here. Did you really expect less of her?"

Her footsteps stopped behind me. Hearing her talk about me was already pushing me into that dizzying but oddly cozy headspace. The fact that Jack’s call was with Samantha rather than me just made it stronger.

"I'm going to put you on the cabin speakers so we can both hear you. There."

"Hey, how you doing, Shepard?" Jack asked.

"Uh… nervous and horny?"

Samantha put a hand on my shoulder. I wasn’t cold, but her palm was shockingly warm. After a beat, she said, "Are you ready to submit?"

“Yes, Samantha." The answer was instant. I’d been practicing it in my head since we’d talked about it, even whispering it to myself when I fantasized.

"Thank you. What are your safewords?"

I took a steadying breath. "Pragia if I need to pause or check in. Teltin if I need to stop."

"Good. Do you need any clarification on the rules?"

“No.”

Her hand on my shoulder tightened. “Tell me what happens if you break them.”

I gulped. “You’ll… correct me. With ice.” Saying she could do that made my stomach drop, like going into free fall.

"Great.” Her voice was warm with approval, or was it eagerness? “It’s right here if I need it.”

There was a rattle and I realized she’d brought ice from the mess hall. Maybe in one of those insulated mugs.

"Are you still with us, Jack?"

"Yep, but we could be called for pick up any minute. I expect to hear from both of you tomorrow."

"Roger that," Sam said. She patted my shoulder. "On the bed, please. Hands and knees."

I felt my way onto the bed and crawled to my best guess at the center, excruciatingly aware of my swaying breasts and exposed cunt. I flushed with self-consciousness, breathing faster.

The mattress sank to my left under Samantha’s weight and I thought I heard her put the ice on the nightstand. Her hand caressed my ass.

"You're right, Jack. This is an exceptional bum."

Jack chuckled in agreement. "It's a great view when she's stretched out with her face in your pussy."

Samantha kept groping me appreciatively. "The musculature is worthy of marble. Oh - that got a reaction."

Obviously she'd heard my huff of protest.

"Does it turn you on when we talk about your body?" Her tone was different, caring but clinical.

"A little," I admitted. Feeling objectified was the point, right?

“Good.”

Her hand slipped down to my inner thigh and I sucked in a breath, trying not to twitch. 

"Sorry, is that ticklish?"

"Kinda."

She trailed her fingertips over the area intentionally. I hissed and clenched the leg to keep still.

"Kinda," she echoed with a laugh. "We'll come back to that."

That was ominous.

She patted my thigh again, more purposefully. “Wider, please.”

I bit my lip and shuffled my knees farther apart, air cooling the wetness as my labia separated.

A finger penetrated me and I groaned. No teasing, no hesitation, just a single digit sheathed to the knuckle. Like that was normal. Like it wasn't the first thing I'd had in me for over a month.

The finger bent, rubbing the butt plug through my inner wall and dragging another groan from the back of my throat. The plug made my cunt feel tighter, and the pressure of her finger made my ass feel fuller.

Her other hand made a circle in the small of my back. "Who do you belong to, Shepard?"

"Jack," I whispered instantly.

Sam said, "Good," and Jack said, "Good girl," almost in unison.

I ducked my head, as though I could hide my smile.

Sam thrust her finger in and out, making me shudder with the desire for more. “She really does glow when you say that, Jack.” 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed warmly. “Don’t want to overdo it, though. Tell Sam what else you like to be called.”

I could think of a few things, but I whispered, “Bitch?”

Sam lodged her finger deep and left it. “As in, Jack’s bitch?"

I nodded, but Jack spoke before I found my voice. “As in, bitch in heat. Aren’t you?”

I nodded again. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You certainly look the part.” Sam took the finger out, and I sighed in disappointment.

Her laugh was wicked, taunting. “Do you want it back?”

“Please.”

“Then act the part. Head down.”

My eyes stung and I flushed with embarrassment. If not for the blindfold, I might have refused. I dropped to my elbows and pressed my forehead to the mattress, arching my back to keep my hips raised.

Her fingertip stroked my labia and I tried to push into the touch. I knew what she wanted. I couldn't bring myself to howl, but I gave a few needy moans, sincere in my craving. Just a different way of begging, right?

“Oh, fuck,” Jack muttered. “That’s hot.”

Samantha hummed in agreement. “She is an eager bitch.”

Those words, in her prim voice, sent a tingle all the way to the base of my skull. I sighed with relief as her finger slipped into me again. I tried to move against it, but she stilled me with a hand on my hip. I gave another plaintive moan.

“What?” She still had that taunting air. “Is that not enough for you?”

I shook my head and clenched around the slim intrusion, feeling the plug as much as Sam’s finger. “More? Please?”

She massaged my g-spot idly, like she didn't hear the gasps it provoked. "It's a shame Jack can't see this. Maybe you should describe it: paint her a picture of her bitch."

It was one thing to throw myself into the part, but she wanted me to describe it? While I was face down, ass up, with her finger stuffed inside me? I was suddenly, acutely aware that Samantha had skipped any kind of foreplay, just went right for my cunt.

I shook my head and whined in denial.

"Too self-conscious?"

I nodded.

Jack chimed in sternly. “If you’re not up to telling me about it, you’re not up to coming tonight.”

I made a strangled, wordless protest and clutched the sheet. I tried to get control of my pelvic muscles, keep my cunt from flexing hungrily, but it was hopeless.

"I'm… shit, Jack, you know I've got my ass in the air ‘cause I want to get fucked."

“I know.” It sounded a lot like ‘good girl.’ “And you know I love it when you talk dirty.”

I panted and squirmed, getting more turned on the longer I contemplated my position. "Jack… please, this is humiliating."

"Uh-huh." Her tone invited me to elaborate. Fuck.

I tried to find words for how I was offering myself as little more than a hole to be filled. In heat, gagging for it. I could think it, but my mouth wouldn't say it.

Starting to panic, afraid she'd follow through on not letting me come, I acted on instinct. I stretched my arms out, pressed my whole chest down, and lifted my head to let out a desperate yowl.

"Whoa. What was that about?"

Samantha stroked my hip, soothing. "She’s showing off how in heat she is. I think talking overwhelmed her. … Yes, she's nodding."

As the moment passed, I realized I was shaking. I pressed my hands across the back of my head, trying to calm down.

"Shep, you ok?" Jack asked.

Samantha said softly, "I'm going to pull out so I can take care of you. I promise I'll give it back when you're ready."

I nodded, thankful for the promise. She cleaned off with the towel, then moved around the side of the bed and patted my shoulder. "Can you get on your hands again?"

"Is she ok?" Jack demanded, louder, as I pushed myself up.

"A little shaky," Samantha said, rubbing my back. “Some reassurance that you’re pleased with her would probably help.”

I let my head hang between my arms, still breathing raggedly, but just picking myself up helped me feel more myself. 

“Fuck, Shepard,” Jack said gently. “You get so turned on you lost your mind a little?”

“I guess so,” I whispered.

“Then you’re the best bitch. Give her a kiss for me, Sam?”

Samantha lifted my chin with a light touch and turned me towards her. Her lips were soft against mine; her tongue was in my mouth before I realized I'd opened it. I mewled and tried to lean into it, but the angle was too awkward.

“Always a girl scout,” Jack muttered. “Even when you're getting railed over your damn pedestal."

Samantha chuckled as she broke away from me, and I smiled in spite of myself.

“Do you need to do something different?” she asked, stroking my neck.

The trembling had subsided and I still ached for more. “I’m ok. As long as I can come.”

“What, now?”

I shook my head. “Eventually.”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “When Sam’s ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I was pretty sure I could, in record time. But I’d be even more frustrated if I wasn’t allowed to, later.

Samantha ran her fingers through my hair, cradled my head and kissed my cheek. “I hope you’re not in a hurry. I'm just getting warmed up."

I laughed nervously.

She rubbed my back again. “Seriously, do you need anything before we go on?”

I shook my head. “Rail me? Please?”

Jack snorted in amusement.

Samantha’s hand moved to my breast, squeezed and tugged it in a way I didn't understand until her hair brushed my arm and she caught my nipple in her mouth. That had to be an uncomfortable angle for her.

At my whimper of pleasure, Jack said, "Oh, I know that noise. She's sucking your tit."

The fact she could tell just from my voice made me love her a little bit more. "Yeah.”

"Tell her how it feels."

"Good?" I kept whimpering at the warm, rhythmic suction of Samantha's mouth. "Goes right to my clit."

I thought Sam smiled against me.

"Ask her to bite it."

I groaned. Jack knew how frantic that would make me …which was why she wanted it. "Please, Samantha…" I whispered. "Bite my nipple."

Sam slowed and tongued the tip for a moment, then closed her teeth on it and nibbled. Predictably, I whined and my hips gave in to instinct, rolling in search of stimulation that wasn’t there.

Finally, she sat back with a delighted laugh. "Thank you, Jack. That was instructive."

She kissed my shoulder as she released my breast, leaving me feeling lopsided with the other one neglected.

A moment later, the finger pushed into me again. “Why don’t you show me what you mean by ‘rail me’?”

I hesitated, half-turning as though I could look over my shoulder.

“Something wrong?”

I blushed, but whispered, “Please? Two fingers?”

“Don't be greedy,” Jack scolded. “You'd have none without her.”

“Yeah,” I conceded. Then, more respectfully, “Yes ma'am.”

Jack's voice softened. “If you want more, you better show her you're grateful for that one.”

Samantha rubbed my hip with a sympathetic hum. “Come on, tiger. Show me.”

I whimpered and nodded, then rocked forward. I wouldn’t have to move much for the few inches to slide out of me, but she moved with me, forcing me to use a full range of motion. I tried not to be loud but I couldn’t help moaning with the mix of pleasure and frustration. It wasn't enough, didn't give me the satisfaction of being stretched and filled, but the fact it was so little, and I’d been denying myself, made everything more intense. I moved as slowly as I reasonably could, trying not to get carried away.

“Be sure to get those tits bouncing,” Jack said, making me instantly aware of the tug of my breasts as they swung lewdly.

I had to pause to let the surge of arousal ebb. I prayed Sam didn’t touch my clit without warning.

“There’s the reaction to us talking about her body, again,” she observed. She briefly caressed and squeezed my ass, then gave it a smack. “I’d expect more energy from a ‘railing’.”

“I don’t - “

She cut me off. “Stop. That wasn’t a question.”

Jack jumped in again. “You holding back, Shepard?”

“I…”

“Pick it up,” she ordered, correctly interpreting my hesitation as reluctance to push myself to the edge.

“Yes, ma'am,” I groaned.

I took a deep breath, then let my body move the way it wanted, bucking on Samantha’s finger as though I could will it to be more than it was.

“That's better. You'd approve of the bounce, Jack. Have you ever put nipple clamps on her?”

“No…” Jack responded, intrigued, even as I dropped to my elbows and clutched my hair.

“Close, close!”

They both exclaimed with delight.

“Atta girl,” Jack purred.

“So you didn't need two fingers.” Samantha wiggled the one and I warbled helplessly. “How long has it been since you had vaginal penetration?”

“Since… before the rules,” I panted.

“My rules,” Jack corrected.

I nodded. "Your rules."

"...which you asked for."

I whimpered in agreement.

Sam's free hand stroked my spine. "Has it been hard to deny yourself?"

I nodded again, but felt the need to add, “Worth it. For Jack.”

"Oh, fuck," Jack muttered. After a beat, she went on like they were continuing a conversation. "You see? She just says things like that."

“Like she wants to feel connected to you?”

Jack growled and my heart dropped. Was that a bad thing?

“That’s our shuttle coming in. Worst fucking timing.”

I couldn’t argue with her, but I was relieved she wasn’t reacting to me. I pushed myself back up on my hands.

Samantha rubbed my spine again. “Say what you need to.”

“Jack?” My eyes stung and my voice wavered.

“Hey. If it makes you feel any better, I’m frustrated as fuck, too. But I'm the dumbass who got on this call when I can't jerk off.”

I turned my head towards her voice, although it didn't really matter. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” She was a little hoarse. “You’re worth it, too, girl scout.”

I expected the call to end, but after a few seconds Jack added: “Don’t let her get pushy, Sam. She’s your bitch when I'm not around.”

My cunt throbbed and clutched reflexively at Samantha’s finger. I dropped my head with a whimper.

“I won’t, Jack,” she promised. “Take care.”

The beep told us she’d disconnected.

Chapter Text

Samantha hummed sympathetically. “Do you need a minute?”

I shook my head. “I’m ok.” I didn’t want to wallow in missing Jack when Samantha was right here with me. In me.

When she pulled her finger out anyway, I twisted around in surprise. “What - ?”

She made a scolding rasp. “Behave… bitch.”

The combination of that word and her voice still had an instant effect on me. I sighed in disappointment, but settled back into position.

She cleaned her hand again, then rubbed my back. “Does that excite you? That you’re my bitch, now?”

I could only nod and mumble, “Uh-huh.”

“You’re not the only one.” I heard a smile in her voice, and a touch of self-deprecation. “I’d love to hear you say it.”

I turned to the side again, not in objection but needing her touch to ground me. Fortunately her arm was still in reach. I nudged it and whined.

Her hand came up, cradling my cheek. “What is it?”

I twisted, trying to kiss her palm, but she tightened her hold and clucked her tongue at me. “Are you having trouble talking again?”

I hadn't thought I was, but when I opened my mouth all that came out was an uncertain noise.

“All right,” she said kindly, releasing my face. “Will you bow for me, like you did for Jack?”

That was easier. I dropped my chest, relieved to let my breasts rest on the bed rather than dangle like udders, and stretched my arms out in supplication.

“See?” The approval in her voice felt too good. “I know you want to submit.”

She sat on the bed and ran her hand along the curve of my spine, then kneaded my ass.  “Is this what you found humiliating? Begging for sex like an animal?”

I whimpered into the mattress.

“Yet you do it so well.”

Hearing that really shouldn't make me feel good.

Her hand left me and she moved around, but she hadn’t gotten up. I realized after a moment that she was taking off her shirt and bra.

I lifted my head with a hopeful whine, but she just laughed at me. Her hair fell across my back as she pillowed her head on my shoulder. I thought I might feel her breasts, but the angle of her body was wrong.

“You are going to say it.” It wasn't a command, just a statement of fact. She was right, as soon as I could form the words.

She rubbed soothing circles on my back and went on like she was talking to herself. “It's such a disrespectful word, isn’t it? Insulting, at best. Dehumanizing, at worst. It puts you in your place.”

I didn't think she was looking for a response, but the words brought another whimper out of me. The air was cool on my cunt but I was leaking too much to dry out. I was liable to start dripping on the sheets. The ache in my groin was so deep it felt permanent.

She turned her head enough to press her lips to my shoulder. “And such a beautiful place you’re in. Bowed in surrender… showing off that lovely vulva… trapped between the demands of your body and our demand for obedience.”

‘That lovely vulva’ spasmed helplessly. I felt fresh warmth trickle towards my clit. My breath was ragged and I was trembly again.

She hummed with affection. The motion of her hand changed. She dug her nails in lightly, drawing rows of scratches across my back. I moaned, wishing she'd scratch harder.

“It's not going to get easier. Thanks to Jack, I feel quite empowered to test your limits. I intend to make you channel every bit of that formidable will into being good. For us.”

She fell silent, focused on the path of her nails over my skin. Marking me. I could see the pink lines in my mind. I squirmed, moaning louder, but she ignored me. Then I stopped in embarrassment as the movement loosed a few drops from my clit hood.

She moved her head so she could finish marking the shoulder where it had been. When she leaned in again, she angled her chest across my shoulders, putting her head next to mine and her arms on either side of me. I could have sobbed when her bare breasts pressed my back. Like the one finger, it was only enough to make me crave more.

She nibbled the rim of my ear with a playful growl. “I want to tease you ‘til the cracks start to show,” she murmured. “When your self-control is in tatters… then I'll give you a taste of my body. And you’ll welcome it with gratitude. Why…?”

My voice barely escaped my lips. “Because I'm your bitch.” My breath hitched, and I choked out, louder, “I'm your bitch, Samantha.”

Samantha heaved a sigh like she'd been holding her breath, followed by a hysterical giggle as she squeezed her arms against me in an awkward hug.

“My god, that’s erotic. Maybe that’s how we should start a scene.”

The evidence that she might be as emotionally overwrought as I was conversely steadied me, letting me fight off the tears that threatened.

She kissed my neck, then pushed herself up and patted my side. “Come on, turn over. I need to kiss you.”

I needed that, too, but I hesitated. “Towel?” I pleaded, praying she’d forgive me for breaking the rules.

“What?” She sat back. “Oh! Hang on.”

She got up and grabbed the towel, but paused as she went behind me. I heard a sniff and felt a waft of air and realized she was smelling me. I half-expected her tongue to follow, but she just gave a little moan of appreciation before she dried my cunt with the cloth.

I was surprised I could still blush, but the tender intimacy set me off again. I felt… cared for.

She patted my hip as she finished. “Relax for a minute. I'm going to get you some water - and come right back.”

I nodded, grateful for the reassurance. As she headed for the bathroom, I flopped onto my side with a shudder of relief. I groped for a pillow, hugged it tight and curled around it. It helped control the urge to shove a hand between my legs, consequences be damned.

I was starting to appreciate why Samantha wanted to talk so much beforehand. I didn't regret insisting that she work out the details with Jack, not me, but this was… a lot. A big step up from letting Jack push me around and tease a little. I felt almost feverish with arousal.

“Oh, tiger,” Samantha sighed as she returned, her voice not quite steady. She sat on the bed and combed my hair back.

I uncurled and started to sit up, then froze as I felt the plug shift under my weight. I made myself keep going, but let out a groan.

Samantha laughed sympathetically. “Here.” She pressed the cup into my hand and I took a long drink, then offered it back. She set it aside.

Her fingers stroked my temple, along the elastic of the blindfold. “Is this working for you?”

“Yeah, it helps. But…” I turned my face in the general direction of her chest.

She snorted. “You want to ogle me.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it with a sheepish shrug.

“Not tonight, I think. I'll save that as a treat for you… another time.”

That had the effect on me I assumed she intended: I wanted it even more. It seemed to be her goal in everything.

“How about the plug?” she asked. “Is it still comfortable?”

“It's good,” I assured her, flushing. We'd agreed that she wouldn't be involved in putting the toy in or taking it out; that stayed between me and Jack. But the thought of her watching…

She threaded her fingers into my hair and kissed my forehead. “Do you need anything else before I kiss you thoroughly for that sweet surrender?”

My mouth went dry. I licked my lips and whispered, “No, Samantha.”

She hummed eagerly and pushed me down on my back, then grasped my wrists and moved them above my head. As she leaned over me, her breast grazed my cheek. I thought I felt a hardened nipple, too. Was that on purpose? Was she tempting me to act up?

She didn't react to my eager whine. The denim of her jeans was coarse against my thighs as her leg nudged mine apart. She guided my face with light fingers on my cheek.

Her lips were gentle, her tongue tender but implacable. She moaned into my mouth, a soft sound of pleasure and desire. I echoed the moan. My fists clenched as my arousal flared. I lifted my head, trying to kiss back, but she pulled away with a discouraging grumble. Once I subsided, she delved in again.

When she finally broke away, she heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. Her fingertips touched my lips. “Say it again?”

I risked giving the fingers a quick peck before I whispered, “I’m your bitch, Samantha.”

The whole length of her body shuddered against me as she let out another giggle of delight. “That’s amazing. Feels like a wet dream. Although…” She sucked her tongue in disappointment. “If it were, I’d have my toys.”

Her hand went to my breast and she took a breath like she was going to go on, but what came out was a gasp of dismay. She rolled her forehead against my temple with a groan.

I hummed a question mark.

“I knew I’d forget something important. The toothbrush was bad enough; I don’t suppose we could requisition a vibrator?”

That shocked a laugh out of me. “What?”

“No toys,” she complained. “I can’t properly taunt you with my orgasms.”

I opened my mouth to say I’d gladly give her all the orgasms she wanted, but she shushed me.

“Sorry, I should have warned you. I’ve always needed a strong vibrator to come. I could pretend it’s part of the game, that I’m holding out on you intentionally, but… I don’t want to.” She laughed at herself. “I’m aware of the irony of worrying about having an orgasm while telling you not to. I just don’t want you to take it personally.”

I shook my head. I knew I was at the ‘easy’ end of the spectrum, as Jack liked to remind me. On the other hand, Jack wasn’t the only woman I’d introduced to the joy of cunnilingus. “I won’t. But - “

“If you’re about to say ‘you haven’t been with me yet’... don’t. I’ve lived in this body long enough to know how it works.”

I winced in chagrin.

“Don’t worry. You’ll still get to put that mouth to good use.” She patted my cheek consolingly. “But where were we?” She dragged a finger down my sternum. “Right. My bitch. Let me sum up what I've learned…”

“So you can put it in your notes?” I muttered, rolling my eyes behind the blindfold.

“Tiger!” Samantha exclaimed with affront.

I clamped my mouth shut in apology, but she had already rolled to the side. I heard the ice clatter in the cup. She rolled back, and cold water dripped onto my lips. 

“Tell me why I'm giving you this.” She didn't sound angry, just stern and mildly amused, like when a child is adorably bad.

I sighed. “Cause I was being a smartass.”

“Mm-hmm. More to the point, you had not been invited to speak. Had you?”

“No, Samantha,” I acknowledged, chastened.

I took the ice from her without resistance. It had melted enough to be smooth around the edges, but it was plenty to keep me occupied for a matter of minutes.

She thumbed water from my lips and gave me a chaste kiss.

“Would you like that?” She squeezed my side in a playful tickle. “To think that I was writing down my observations? Collecting data?”

Her tone changed, becoming clinical again: a dictation. “The subject is in prime physical condition - “ She stroked my abs, then traced her fingertips along the scars that criss-crossed them, seeming oblivious to the twitches and gasps I couldn't control. “ - although she carries marks of prior conflict, which serve to underscore that she could resist and does not.”

As she sat up, she gave my stomach a pointed slap, hard enough that I grunted. I clenched my fists and whimpered in protest, but she still ignored me.

She massaged and squeezed my breasts with both hands. “Breasts are well-proportioned, full enough to ‘bounce’ appreciably but not so heavy as to cause discomfort. I’d be interested to see how subject responds to breast bondage, if circumstances ever allow.”

Breast bondage? Was that different from nipple clamps? Christ. She was just messing with my head, right?

My speculation was cut off when her fingers latched onto my nipples, squeezing hard enough that I groaned and sucked frantically on the ice.

“Nipples have remained erect during the session. Subject self-reports that nipple stimulation increases arousal.” A smile crept into Samantha’s voice as she added, “This is borne out in practice. There's a direct correlation between intensity of the stimulus and intensity of the response. Vocalization, shortness of breath, impulsively seeking genital stimulation… signs of masochism here bear further exploration.”

I yelped and my hips jerked, making her point, when she yanked her fingers free with a hard twist. Heat burned over my face and chest. The way she saw me was more unnerving than simply being naked.

She bent forward, her hair tickling my breasts, and gave each sore nub a kiss. “Much further.”

When she straightened up, she moved back and shoved my thighs apart as casually as Jack with her biotics, taking my cooperation for granted. She settled between them, resting her hands at my hips.

Her thumbs stroked the sensitive hollows, but she was quiet. Was she observing that my cunt was dripping again? Watching my “well-proportioned” breasts heave with “shortness of breath”? Fuck, why was it so hot to hear her talk about me like a specimen?

My sense of time was still warped. I told myself her silence wasn’t dragging on that long, but I finally squirmed and whimpered for attention.

She snorted softly. “Subject communicates well despite speech restrictions. I might have anticipated that the limitation would result in animalistic behavior. I would not have anticipated how easily she took to role-playing a bitch in heat. Another avenue worth exploring.”

I groaned in protest. It was all true, but she said it so officially, so… like she was making a report in the War Room. My imagination conjured spotlights showing off my body while Samantha gave a lecture. My head spun.

She rubbed her hands along my sides, firmly enough not to tickle. “Deep breath.” She waited until I complied, forcing my lungs to suck in more than a frantic gasp.

“Do I need to stop?”

I shook my head. Stopping was the last thing I wanted.

“How’s the ice?”

I opened my mouth with an “ah” to show off the lump chilling my tongue, though it had become more of a cylinder than a cube.

“Hmm. If you want me to go on, hold your legs for me.” She patted my thighs just above the knees.

I only hesitated a moment before I grabbed where she indicated, pulling my legs into splits. I had to bend my knees to keep the stretch from being painful, but it didn’t make me any less exposed. My breath sped up again.

“Delightful.” Samantha's fingertips teased my thighs and my hands clutched tighter as I fought the urge to kick. “If you let go, I’ll take that to mean you’re tired and we should wrap up.”

She gave my thighs a firmer pass with her palms, erasing the tickle. Then her thumbs pried gently at the edges of my cunt. My labia had spread along with my legs, but they separated further at her tugging. I clenched reflexively, felt myself leak again, and flushed with embarrassment.

Samantha’s voice was warm when she continued her ‘notes.’ “She does give the impression of being in heat. The vulva is inflamed, the glans swollen, and the quantity of self-lubrication is… prodigious. A waterproof blanket would be a good investment.”

I couldn't get any redder. I sucked on the ice and wondered if a piece of it in my cunt would be such a terrible thing after all. “Inflamed” was an understatement.

I inhaled sharply and my cunt flexed again when she blew a focused stream of air across the folds, cooling long-hidden crevices.

“Does it hurt?” she asked with distant curiosity. “To be this ready for sex, without having it?”

I thought growling “fuck yes!” might get me in trouble again, so I just groaned desperately. If this was what blue balls felt like, I could understand why guys complained.

“Aww…” She cooed at me with pity, like I was an actual dog. I wanted to hate it, but… I didn't.  “Sweet girl.”

The fingers spreading me open pressed a little harder, and then I stopped breathing as her tongue swept right along my center, collecting fluids.

Her lips smacked with relish and I felt the air of her laugh. “Breathe, tiger.”

I gulped air, but when I let it out it carried another groan, a plea for more.

Her tongue teased again, dipping into me like a bee seeking nectar. I tried to be passive, afraid of doing anything to draw her away from probing me with that firm muscle, though I couldn't contain whimpers of relief.

I almost complained when she stopped, but she was just shifting position, bracing her hands on my thighs and fitting her mouth more fully over my cunt.

I couldn't remember the last time anyone had gone down on me. Before any of this. Some shore leave from the Tokyo, when I got lucky and the woman I picked up was into giving head. Jack hadn’t shown any interest in it. Between oral sex and her biotic tricks, I’d choose the biotics, but I did miss this softer pleasure: the warm suction and silky caresses.

Samantha was really into it. As her tongue explored the contours of my cunt, she murmured and hummed under her breath like she was savoring a treat. It would have been cute if the vibration of her voice wasn't going right into me. Maybe that was on purpose.

She wasn't doing anything consistently enough or firmly enough to move me towards climax, although the glancing contact with my clit made me quiver. My hips wanted to rut, but with my legs so wide I could only arch my back as I moaned for more.

Meanwhile, the last sliver of ice broke into shards and I swallowed them. It didn't seem like she'd noticed that, but it wasn't long before she latched onto my clit and sucked.

I yelped in warning, but she stopped as soon as she started, pulling away completely.

Was she done? I caught myself before “Don't stop!” slipped out, converting it to a cry of need.

She sat up. My sense that she was cleaning her face with the towel was confirmed when she pressed it to my cunt again, too. I squirmed and made another wordless protest, but she just dried me gently, then rested a hand below my navel.

“Easy, girl.”

I stilled, but whined a softer plea.

“Are you telling me you need that orgasm?”

I nodded emphatically. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. I want you needy.” Her hand moved to pat my thigh. “You can let go now. Stretch your legs a little.”

I couldn't contain a final huff at the denial, but I peeled my fingers off my thighs, which was its own kind of relief. 

As I stretched out my legs, Samantha crawled over me. Maybe her kiss was meant to be comforting, but I could smell the musk of sex on her and taste myself in her mouth. I kissed her back hungrily. My arms came up to grab her, before I caught myself again and let them drop.

She moved to the side and grasped one of my wrists, tugging me to roll towards her. “Do you want to hold me? Close your hands.”

I curled my hands into loose fists.

“Like that,” she confirmed. “Bitch, right? No opposable thumbs.”

I turned my face into her shoulder at the feeling of becoming less than human. A bitch. A dog. I curled my fists tighter.

“Come on,” she murmured, guiding me as she adjusted position. “Around my waist.”

She scooted up a little, so that I ended up hugging her waist with my head pillowed on her arm and my face right against her breast. 

I clamped my mouth closed, afraid to press my luck. I was relieved just to feel her against me, skin to skin after so much exposure. 

But once she'd gotten comfortable she petted my hair. “Remember what I said about tasting my body?”

I didn't, exactly, but she wasn't waiting for a response. She shifted her body and my head enough to put my lips against her nipple. I whined eagerly, but I still didn’t open my mouth.

“Oh, you are so good,” she murmured. “Go on, give me a kiss.”

I pursed my lips and gave the nipple a tender peck.

“Shall we try a lick?”

I let my tongue out just enough to slide it back and forth against the tip.

She made a tiny noise of pleasure, so I dared to give it a fuller lick, then made a leisurely circle around the nub.

I stopped, then probed curiously, confirming a hard spot on the side that was definitely not nipple.

She laughed, breathy with arousal. "Yes, they're pierced. Can I trust you not to report me?"

I laughed, too, and tongued the other end of the barbell, then gave her another kiss.

“All right, you can suck it. Gently!”

I opened my mouth to envelop the nipple. It was a generous size, comfortable to wrap my lips around, though I was careful to keep my teeth away. Her reaction was immediate: a catch in her breath and a little whimper that rose and fell with the massage of my lips and tongue.

Her hand curled in my hair, holding me to her - as though there was any chance of me moving away. “Oh, that’s lovely. Even… a little harder. Great…”

Her pleasure set mine ablaze again. I tried to stay on task, to pay attention to the subtle cues in her sounds and movements, but I couldn’t help echoing her whimpers. It was like my body felt everything with her. I fell into mindless suckling, soothed by the rhythm. Then she clucked her tongue and tugged me off her breast.

I grumbled at the loss, confused until she pushed a leg between mine. I realized I’d been squeezing my thighs together for relief.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “I think we’ve found your limit.”

Limit? The only thing stopping me from giving her pleasure was her. I tried to find her nipple again, but she held me back with a gentle reprimand.

“Stop.” She waited until I subsided, ignoring my pout. “Can you behave?”

I pressed my lips together with a whimper of assurance, so she let go of my hair and cradled my head against her chest. I nuzzled her with desire, but otherwise contained myself.

“When I said I wanted you needy…” She paused, then snorted. “Who am I kidding? I love it.”

She rolled back a little, so I was half on top of her, and hooked her leg in mine, drawing it up to keep me from rubbing on anything. I didn't fight it, but I couldn't help tightening my arms around her with a needy whimper.

She murmured in sympathy and caressed my cheek. Her fingers wandered from there, down my neck and up to my ear, coaxing more whimpers out of me. When a finger parted my lips, I sucked instinctively.

After a few moments, she started ‘dictating’ again, though her voice was soft and full of affection. “Despite the physical compulsion for sex, subject’s strongest motivation appears to be to please her handlers, as demonstrated by prompt compliance with commands and adherence to rules.”

She pushed a second finger into my mouth and I sucked harder, trying to project how right she was.

“Indeed… providing sexual service seems as compulsive for her as seeking it. That could be taken as a kind of bargaining for her own satisfaction, but my gut says it’s not. Is it?”

I shook my head slightly and mumbled a negative. Her fingers were all the way in my mouth; any deeper and they would have gagged me. I pointedly wriggled my tongue between the digits.

“Oh! You - ” I thought she might scold me, but then she sputtered with giggles. “...make it damn hard to take myself seriously.” She pulled her fingers out and shoved my head back with her palm, still laughing.

I laughed, too. Swept up in the playfulness, I rebounded and rolled on top of her with an excited yelp. A bark.

“Wha - ”

I instinctively pressed the advantage. I picked myself up enough to bring my face to hers and lap at her cheek. As soon as I did I knew I’d be in trouble, but somehow that spurred me on. Might as well make it worthwhile. Channeling half the dogs I’d known as a kid, I bathed her with sloppy licks.

She batted at me in protest. “Hey - cut that out - not the - ah!”

I managed to stick my tongue in her ear before she got her hands between us firmly enough to fend me off. I barked again.

“Down! Sit!”

I sank back on my knees with a whine of apology, but I couldn't suppress a goofy grin.

Samantha sighed with relief as she sat up, then laughed again. “Aw…” She cradled my cheek. “You're so proud of yourself.”

I nuzzled her hand, the grin finally fading. I whined again anxiously.

“You should be.” Her hand moved up, ruffling my hair. “That was fantastic. You broke at least one rule, but… I can't hold it against you. I'm responsible for steering you into the role-play before we set expectations.”

She leaned in and kissed my temple. “Besides, I've always wanted a puppy.”

Some distant part of me was slack-jawed with shock. I wasn't a dog! But the grin was back. Nothing else mattered if she was happy with me. She wanted me!

I barked softly - more of a squeaky warble but I tried not to overthink it - and brought a closed fist up to paw at her.

She caught it and pushed it away. “Down,” she repeated, firm but fighting another laugh.

When I subsided, she ruffled my hair again, then wrapped her hand behind my head and rested her forehead against mine. She was short of breath. “Let me clear my head,” she murmured.

My own breath was choppy and shallow. As much as part of me wanted to bowl her over with affection again, I knew a moment to settle down was a good thing.

Before long she took a deep breath, pressed our heads closer, then sat back and let her hand trail down my neck.

“Do you want to give me kisses?”

I stuck my tongue out with a questioning noise.

She snorted. “No, the sexy kind. I did promise to let you put that mouth to good use.”

I pulled my tongue in and nodded eagerly.

“Then come here.”

She lay back, tugging me to move with her. With nudging and a few words of guidance, she had me kneel over her. I wondered if she’d put herself in a vulnerable position again just to test my resolve.

With her hand back in my hair, she drew me to her neck. My breasts pressed hers as I leaned in.

“There.” She sighed as my lips found her jaw. “Strut your stuff, tiger. I know you've been dying to.”

I laughed to myself. Good thing I worked well under pressure. But she was right - the chance to caress her with my lips and tongue, to be rewarded by her sighs and moans, was exactly what I was missing. My cunt immediately reminded me that it wanted attention, too, but as long as I could focus on her it was bearable.

I made a point to take my time, thinking of what she’d said about “bargaining.” This wasn’t a trade, it was for her. Since she’d said she wouldn’t be able to come, I wasn’t entirely sure how it should go. I hoped she’d give me some direction eventually. Meanwhile, I was excited to explore her throat and neck, the ridges of her collar and the smooth expanse of her chest (I was caught off guard by the lack of scars, I was so accustomed to Jack’s body).

She didn’t say anything, but the sounds she made and her fingers caressing my scalp assured me that I was getting it right. When I started to move to her breasts, she bent her leg, pressing her knee right into my cunt.

I froze, then let out a pleading moan.

“I’m not teasing,” she promised. “Here.”

She pulled my head down again, this time to her breast, which she cupped so I could reach the nipple without contorting my neck. I latched on out of habit.

“That's it,” she sighed. I thought she might say more, but her breath caught and she whimpered a little.

I echoed the whimper and squirmed against her knee. There was no way I could pay full attention while she was doing that.

“Go ahead,” she urged. “You’ve done great. It’s time to let go.”

I hesitated. Did she really want me to hump her leg like… oh. Of course she did.

I wasn't even embarrassed. With a whine in my throat, I squirmed harder. The denim chafed my thighs, but once I had a taste of relief I didn’t care.

Samantha kept a hand on my head and the other on her breast, helping me cling to her nipple as instinct took over. The sliver of self-restraint I had left went into not biting as I sucked her like a pacifier.

She murmured breathless encouragement: “That’s right, get excited. Show me that eager bitch. Such a good - “ She cut herself off with a laugh. “Damn. You are, though.”

It was the thought that counted. The fabric against my cunt soaked through in no time. My squirming became wild rutting on the slick patch, while I grunted frantically against her breast. The movement made me feel the plug, too. Feel Jack.

My control crumbled. My mouth fell open, letting go of the nipple.

She surrendered her breast to gravity and just petted my head. “Don’t stop; you’re so close. Can you come for me?”

Maybe part of me still wasn’t sure I was allowed. I was over the edge seconds later, slumping onto her with a final, stuttery moan.

“Oh, well done,” she breathed. She moved her leg once I went limp, and gathered me into her arms. “That was amazing. I’m proud of you.”

That distant part of me objected that there was nothing to be proud of - just an orgasm, not even an exceptional one. It didn’t stop my eyes from getting wet behind the blindfold. I sniffed and snuggled into her, holding on as well as I could with my fists closed.

Chapter Text

Samantha combed my hair idly while I caught my breath. Grogginess set in fast. The soothing touch didn’t help, but I fought it off. It still felt wrong that she hadn’t come - hadn’t even taken her pants off.

I raised my head, turning blindly towards her face. “Do you need - “

“Shh… I haven’t released you.”

Right. I put my head down, but rubbed my cheek on her chest with a concerned hum.

She pressed her lips to my hair. “Stop worrying about my orgasms. You've more than satisfied me. I shouldn’t be surprised that you're as strong a submissive as you are a leader, but god it’s impressive.”

I nodded, trying to accept the praise graciously. Strong wasn’t the word I’d use. Shameless, maybe. So saturated with lust that I was her thrall.

She took a deep breath, then rolled slowly, easing me onto my side before she got up. I let her go, but not without a grumble of protest. Thankfully, she caught my chin and pressed her lips to mine a moment later.

“Jack's right,” she said as she pulled back. “You're the best bitch.”

I smiled in spite of myself.

She patted my cheek. “Stay. You can talk freely. I'm just putting my shirt on.”

I opened my mouth, but found I didn't have anything to say yet. I rolled the rest of the way onto my back, letting my body relax.

Samantha moved around for a few seconds, and then she groaned softly.

“What?”

“Could I… borrow those shorts, after all?”

It took me a second to realize why she was asking. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” I heard her rummage in my locker. “See, this is why planning your scene is important. I needed a change of clothes.”

“Samantha,” I protested. “You can borrow things.”

“Yes, but now I'll be wearing your shorts in public, which is only slightly less obvious than wearing your… sex… in public.”

I burst out laughing, and she followed a second later.

She calmed down enough to change, and then she giggled again. “I should - I should keep these. Frame them. ‘Commander Shepard came here.’”

“I - “ I laughed, too, but it trailed off. I knew she was joking, but I couldn't hold back an objection. “That wasn’t really…”

Her voice softened. “Commander Shepard?”

I shrugged, and she sat by me again, resting her hand on my stomach. “No, that was a very different side of you. One I’m grateful you shared with me.”

“Will I always be - ? When - I mean - ” Suddenly words were hard again.

“My bitch?”

“Yeah.”

“Only if you want to. You don't have to do anything.”

“No, I - I want to. At least…” I growled in frustration with myself.

She rubbed my stomach. “Easy, tiger. There’s no rush.”

I chuckled, letting myself be distracted. “Can I be a tiger and a bitch?”

She snorted. “Overthinking things is my job. If it helps, we could say ‘Tiger’ is your pup name.”

“That’s… a thing? Pup name?”

“It’s a big thing. Role-playing ‘pups’ and other animals? It can be… very detailed. Some people have costumes.”

It wasn’t a surprise, when I really thought about it. People did all kinds of weird things in bed. Pretending to be a dog seemed pretty low on the scale.

With a mental shrug, I curled my limbs, imitating a dog on its back, and barked.

“Oh, really?” She bent her fingers and scrubbed them over my abs. “You like belly rubs, girl?”

The muscles twitched but I wriggled and panted, mouth hanging open in a grin.

After a moment, she dissolved into laughter again. “You've never done this before? Any kind of pet play?”

I shrugged and shook my head, putting my arms and legs down.

“Incredible. We both have a lot to tell Jack, don't we? I hope she doesn't think we've gone too far.”

I snorted. “If she does, I'll remind her that she talked us into it.” 

I doubted it would be a problem. I could almost hear Jack howling with laughter at the idea of me acting like an actual dog.

Samantha patted my thigh. “All right. Let me tidy you up before I set you loose.”

It was absurd to suddenly be self-conscious again, but I had to talk myself into spreading my legs for her.

As soon as I did, she gasped with pity. “Oh… you rubbed yourself raw. Hold on, I left some lotion in the shower.”

Raw was an exaggeration; it just stung a little. “You don't have to - “

She interrupted me firmly. “No. But I will.”

“Yes, Samantha,” I conceded.

I didn’t move while she dashed to the bathroom and came back.

She squeezed some lotion out and I got a strong whiff of that smell, the one I’d come to think of as hers.  “This is made with… it’s commonly called Ontarom nettle. It has properties similar to aloe, and it's hypo-allergenic for humans. You know how sensitive I am to some things.”

She dabbed me with the towel, then smoothed lotion over the chafed areas, along the edges of my cunt. 

The lotion had a cooling effect, though her touch inevitably turned me on a little. But mostly it brought back that feeling of being cared for. God, this was such a roller coaster: laughing one minute and tearing up the next.

“Thanks,” I murmured. “It helps.”

“Good.” She squeezed my hip and took a deep breath, then scooted forward so she could kiss me. “This - I - “

I kept quiet, a little relieved that I wasn't the only one having a hard time with words.

She brushed my hair back. “Do you remember what I said about sub drop?”

“Sure.” She'd mentioned something in passing, while we were planning for tonight, about a low spell after coming down from endorphins or adrenaline or whatever. “I'm not worried about it.”

“Well, I am.” There was a laugh under her breath, but also a gravity that made me take notice. “I'm the one who could be out an airlock in the morning.”

I started to sit up. “You know I wouldn't - “

“Whoa...” She put a hand on my chest to settle me down. “Sorry, I'm being dramatic. And I’d been doing so well at not letting nerves trip me up.”

I lay back quietly. It wasn't that I'd taken her literally, I just couldn't stand the thought of her fearing me, after all this.

She sighed. “I'm going about this wrong. Why don’t I give you some privacy so you can clean up?”

I wasn’t ready for her to go, but it was already later than she usually stayed; I told myself not to push it.

“...and put your pajamas on,” she appended.

Apparently my face had spoken for me. I smiled sheepishly. Was I a child who needed to be put to bed? “Yeah… uh… sounds good. Thank you.”

She leaned in and kissed my forehead, then lifted my chin with a single finger. “Who do you belong to?”

The question caught me off guard, but my answer was instinctive. “Jack.”

“Good. You're free now. I'll be over here with the fish until you're dressed.”

—

Taking the blindfold off was like diving into a cold pool. I had to brace myself, as though seeing again would make everything that happened more real. At least the lamp light was dim enough it didn't take me long to adjust.

I started to get up, only to grimace at the plug prodding me. I wasn't keen on walking to the bathroom with that in. I glanced at Samantha reflexively, afraid of finding laughter or pity, but she was watching the fish as promised. The loose drape of my gym shorts did really nice things for her ass.

It wasn't the time for ogling. I managed to keep quiet while I slipped the toy out. This was the longest I’d worn it; I worried it would be uncomfortable to remove. It wasn't, but it left a hollowness, an odd sense of both bereavement and satisfaction in its wake.

My head was spinning as I went to clean the plug and myself, taking the lotion to put away for Samantha. Crossing the room with her back to me, I noticed my nudity more than usual. I hadn't been shy about my body since I'd joined the military, but the edict to clothe myself before Sam could look at me again made it feel different.

I wasn't embarrassed, just aware of the air as I moved, the mechanics of muscle and bone under my skin, the way the lotion made my thighs glide against my groin. I could still faintly feel my pulse in my cunt. Jack’s voice replayed in my head as I trotted up the steps: “keep those tits bouncing.”

It was crass. I should have been offended. But I only felt an echo of that lurch in my stomach, the sort of feeling I'd described to Jack as “violated, in a good way.”

That summarized most of what had happened tonight. I thought I might feel shame or disgust, anger or resentment. I searched myself honestly, but it wasn't there.

If anything, I had to push myself back into normality. Momentum carried me until I was ready to get in the shower, but I paused with my hand poised to turn it on. Commander Shepard was a threatening figure lurking behind me, ready to pounce at my next move.

I took a deep breath and started the water. Was this the sub drop Sam talked about? It seemed too soon for that. No, just run-of-the-mill existential dread.

The heat helped. By the time I'd cleaned up, I felt like I'd settled back into my skin.

There was still some soreness around my cunt. My first impulse was to shrug it off, but then I reapplied Sam's lotion, telling myself it would make her feel better.

I stuck my head out to warn her that I was still naked. She hadn't moved much. I got my tank top and shorts on and announced that I was decent.

Samantha turned and met me with a quick kiss and a hug. I gave in to temptation and groped her as I returned the embrace.

She smacked my shoulder, but she was laughing. “Are you trying to prove something?”

“Only that your ass is as squeezable as it looks.” I grinned rakishly.

She rolled her eyes and pushed me towards the bed. “It's time for you to turn in. Tiger.”

“Yes, Samantha,” I drawled. But I climbed into bed obediently. She had a point: I was acting like an overtired toddler.

“I am glad you're feeling more yourself.” She sat on the bed with me again, then picked something up from the nightstand and offered it to me.

A ration bar. Had that been there all along?

I waved it away. “I just brushed my teeth.”

She fixed me with a Look. “I'm not rubbing your back until you eat.”

I sighed, but after a beat I took it from her. One night wasn't going to ruin my teeth. Actually, since Cerberus I didn't even know if I could get cavities.

I turned on my side so I could eat comfortably. As I chewed, my eyes wandered the curves of her body, imagining what she hadn't let me see yet. I’d had enough of an impression of her breasts to give me a mental image of the soft caramel swells. But I didn't know about the areolas - shape, size? Just a little darker or like chocolate frosting? And those piercings - silver beads nestled on either side of her nipples? Gold? Black?

“You know, the more you want something, the more power it gives me over you.”

I winced and averted my eyes. “Sorry.”

“For what?” She opened her mouth to go on, then closed it and shook her head with a private smile. “When you're done with that, finish your water. Then you can get comfortable.”

I popped the last bite into my mouth, chewed it just enough, then washed it down with the rest of the water she'd brought earlier. At her nod of approval, I rolled over, hugging a pillow under my head.

She smoothed the blanket across my hips, then rubbed her hand between my shoulders.

“Relax,” she murmured.

I did, letting out a sigh of bliss. “Thank you.”

She only hummed and continued the gentle petting. It wasn't a massage, just a light caress of her palm over my back. It lulled me into a hazy, unfocused state, like her touch turned down the volume in my brain.

My mind wandered to the way she called me “tiger.” Using it as a name would take the fun out of it. Anyway, a “pup name” felt like a kind of commitment, making the role-play more than a silly thing that happened in the heat of the moment.

I did want to try it again, though. How the hell had I gotten from being turned on when they called me a bitch to actually jumping on Sam and “barking”? I wasn't even a dog person.

It would be easy to overthink the specifics, worrying about minutiae like exactly how a dog in heat acted, but that was liable to ruin it. I tried to focus on what I liked. That brought me back to the lurch. The smug affection of Jack's voice, the tender pity of Samantha's (in heat… poor thing…) pushing me into a state where everything was instinct or obeying their commands.

Her touch on my back and the flow of my thoughts followed me into the liminal space between sleeping and waking. I was a dog, some kind of retriever, huddled next to her, whimpering and squirming with the intensity of my body's craving. She tried to soothe me with gentle pets and soft words.

“I know, sweetie, I know. It's hard right now, but you'll be ok. You're safe. I'm right here, Jill. I'm with you.”

I startled awake when she pulled the blanket up to my shoulders.

“Sorry, I thought you were out.” She kissed my cheek.

“Sorta dreaming,” I mumbled. I caught her hand before she could pull away, then turned onto my side.

“Jill,” I said.

She blinked at me in confusion. “That's your name…?”

“It's what you should call me. The… pup name.”

She hesitated. “No one calls you that.”

“Exactly.”

Gears turned behind her eyes, and then she laughed softly. “I see. It's crossing a boundary.”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “Let's wait until we've talked with Jack about it. She should have the first chance to call you - ” Samantha giggled suddenly.

I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know…”

The giggles got worse. “It's like fate, isn't it?” She slapped the mattress a few times.

I pressed the pillow over my head before I could start giggling, too.

After a moment, she patted my shoulder. “It's safe to come out now. I hadn't… put it together before, you and Jack. But as long as she doesn't break any crowns, I think you're safe.”

“Don't jinx it,” I muttered, as I tucked the pillow back under my head.

“Sorry.” She grimaced. “Now you're wide awake again.”

“I'll be ok. I know: you gotta go.”

“For now. Don't forget to message Jack in the morning.”

“No chance of that.”

She kissed my cheek again. “Sleep well.”

I watched her leave with her rolled-up jeans tucked under her arm, then turned the lamp off and flipped to my other side. If nothing else, this might be the longest I'd gone without worrying about the war since we'd left Earth.