The High Cost of Perfection 1.4.1
anonymous
November 20 2013, 13:40:47 UTC
How this became her obsession, Miranda could only guess. At 106 years old, Liara was barely a teenager by asari standards, easily infatuated with hobbies like the protheans, or people representing her dream life. Idolizing Shepard seemed logical in a self-centered world of a teenage girl. It didn’t matter what Shepard wanted, because even if he didn’t see things her way, she would convince him. She loved him and he would love her back and he was smart enough to understand eventually.
Miranda was incredulous. She knew this type from high school and college, but it was still strange to see it in a 100-year old asari scientist. Granted, she didn’t have too much social life either, just like all the nerdy girls, and that included Miranda, too. Added to the mix was the “I saw him first” syndrome, and Miranda suddenly felt herself like a member of the cheerleader squad who had a crush on the same football player stud that the head cheerleader chose for herself. At this point, she could not contain her laughter any more. She saw the irony in the cheerleader analogy, and Jack would probably get a kick out of it. Miranda Lawson was being out-cheerleadered…
Liara didn’t appreciate the laughter, though. She took it as mockery and she quickly became furious and quickly skipped the rest of her prepared monologue and pulled out her strongest, and frankly, her only real card: Oriana.
Miranda kind of suspected that this was up in the air, but she really hoped Liara would not sink that low. She was wrong. Liara T’soni, scholar and information broker was so infatuated with love that she actually threatened to kill Miranda’s sister if she did not back off. It didn’t surprise Miranda, but it did hurt. Her gradual admiration of the asari’s knowledge and personality completely evaporated, her faith in people in general was crumbling fast.
Miranda also knew that at moment, she lost the battle and quite possibly, she would lose the war, too. Any hope of appealing to Liara’s intellect and empathy was gone. She did one last desperate attempt to convince Liara that this was not the way to earn Shepard’s love, and it would not be the same. It didn’t help. It also didn’t work when Miranda tried to appeal to her vanity, saying that she will always be a replacement, a second choice for Shepard. Oddly enough, Liara was okay with that. She was content with being only a runner-up, a rebound, if it meant his arms around her. In any other circumstance, Miranda would find this bit of information about the asari’s self-esteem and ego interesting, but at that moment it was useless to her.
It only took a couple of weeks for the power to corrupt Liara. Days and days alone with all that data at her fingertips, looking up familiar names at first, and a glimpse to see, what can she achieve with this information. Sure, at first, it was probably all about fighting the Reapers, but that nagging feeling must have won over, to check out the Normandy crew and see her chance of getting her love back.
Liara was not patient any more and she quickly ended the argument with one little sentence that held every bit of information Miranda needed. “Ask yourself this question, Miranda: Does it worth fighting me over him and risking everything you worked for in the past eighteen years?” And Miranda understood. Any attempt at winning Shepard back would put Oriana at risk.
This was the difference between their conflict and your run-of-the-mill high school rivalry: Miranda spent her teenage years between the richest, the most elite students Earth had to offer. Every girl was powerful. Most of them spoiled. But with them, Miranda was on equal ground. She had nothing to lose, the only good thing about her father was the family name and power which made her equal by default and superior to them by intellect. She could handle those girls, and most of the time, she would just let them win the unimportant battles. They were insignificant.
The High Cost of Perfection 1.4.2
anonymous
November 20 2013, 13:42:07 UTC
Liara T’soni was different, though. She was the Queen Bitch of queen bitches, she was the head cheerleader who had the most power in the whole world. It would still not be enough to beat Miranda Lawson, but the mere thought of the power at Liara’s fingertips with which she could harm Oriana was staggering. The only victory she could achieve at this moment was to keep Oriana alive, and bide her time and maybe after the Reaper War was over, she would go on the same quest that Liara went on two years ago: to find the Shadow Broker and make her pay for endangering the life of someone she cared about.
Re: The High Cost of Perfection 1.4.2
anonymous
November 20 2013, 19:13:11 UTC
OP here. Wonderful start, thank you for doing it! It means a lot, really. I think I need a horribly fucked up love story in my life right now. Though I know this story will be very dark, maybe too dark based on your comments, but it's ok. Also, I like what you are doing with Liara, she is shaping up to be an interesting villain.
And I'm really sorry that you don't enjoy writing this, but I hope at least it's a good challenge or something?
A!A: The High Cost of Perfection 1.4.2
anonymous
November 20 2013, 23:06:54 UTC
As I said before, I can't stop the story at the picture. Not in my head and not if I'm writing it. It has to reach its inevitable conclusion.
And it's not pretty. Horribly fucked up right about covers it. Two scenes from the end just burned themselves into my brain and the only way to get rid of them is to write my way there.
That being said, while it makes me miserable, it is the best kind of creative challenge. If it wouldn't be challenging, if it wouldn't push me out of my comfort zone, I'd probably be able to ignore the prompt and not write it. If it's not challenging, my writing wouldn't be any good.
The High Cost of Perfection 1.5
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:10:55 UTC
So there she was, the Ice Queen Miranda Lawson, staring at a blank screen with a blank face and even tears abandoned her. All that bottled up tension, and the only effect it had was that the strength left her limbs. She was unable to think or move for a long time, before her old reflexes kicked in. She took a deep breath, pulled herself straight and opened her terminal. Before she could start typing though, she stopped and looked around, narrowing her eyes. She glared at every nook and cranny of her office, unmoving, like a deer caught in the headlights. Every object was suspicious, every shadow a threat… She shook her head. This was pointless.
In the end she forced herself to stand up, move her limbs and make it to the showers. It took all her willpower to get there. She stood under a rush of steaming hot water until her skin turned pink, hoping that the water would wash away at least some of the pain. It didn’t, of course and she had to stop at one point, before she used up all the water. Besides, she had to pull herself together. It was important to keep up appearances, run the ship as usual and not let the crew feel anything of the tension. They would find out of course, faster than she preferred, so there will be whisperings behind her back. Again.
She stopped by the canteen and stocked up on food and drink, deciding it would be best to spend most of her time in her quarters for the next couple of days. She also took a few things from the ship’s storage before locking herself in her room. She more or less stuck to her plan, only emerging to take a shower or to work out when nobody was around, and during the day cycle only when she was called to handle something ship-related, which was scarce now that they managed to fix most of the damage and they were not in a rush.
Loneliness was not exactly new to her. She was alone all her life. In school, where her father forbid her to make friends. In Cerberus she had colleagues, but she wouldn’t call them friends. The Illusive Man kept his distance, Jacob came late and was a welcome distraction, but it never went too deep. She worked alone, even when leading the Lazarus team. She was OK with that, until Shepard woke up and persistently tried to form a real connection with her. And for a little while, for a few months she finally felt like she wasn’t alone. She slowly came to trust and feel… something.
Betrayal was familiar as well. Niket was a disappointment, really. Wilson was… irrelevant. She had no qualms pulling the trigger in both cases. And of course, she betrayed her father when she ran away, and betrayed the man who took her in after that, when she sided with Shepard on the Collector Base. In that light, Liara’s betrayal should not have surprised her.
And yet, the pain, that nagging feeling like something was torn from her chest, that was new. In all her life, she only had a few months of contentment, a little relief, sharing the weight with others. With one particular person. Oh, how blissful it was to share! It wasn’t a long time, really, not compared to the previous decades, but it was enough that the loss of it made her whimper at night, balled up in her bed, clawing at her chest to get rid of the tingling sensation, to get at the cold emptiness. It shouldn’t have been this painful. She could only hope, that it would fade and things would return to the way they were before.
Of course, Kelly came, genuine concern on her face, assuring her that she was there to listen and help. Jacob dropped by, too, baffled at the breakup, giving her the “i thought things were going fine” speech and encouraged her to sort it out with John. Chakwas made an attempt, too under the guise of a medical checkup and tried to convince her into talking with Shepard. In all cases she politely thanked them for their concern, smiling sadly and ensured them that when she was ready to talk, she would. She just needed time now. Even Kasumi dropped by, uninvited of course and in her straightforward way, asked her very personal questions and called all her answers stupid. They had a great talk.
The High Cost of Perfection 1.6
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:11:48 UTC
It took them three days to pick up Feron and take him to a nondescript space station orbiting a mining moon, one of the many hideouts of the Shadow Broker. There were only a handful of people who knew the identity of the new Broker, and they wanted to keep it that way. The drell was treated at Illium and once he was strong enough to return and help Liara run the Broker’s network, Shepard offered him a ride.
Miranda didn’t sleep much during that time. She worked a lot, stayed busy in her free time and made an effort not to look like a mess. Her first step was to sweep her room for listening devices. The next was to sketch up a plan until she can leave the ship, and what to do after it. She even considered surrendering and going into Alliance custody. She would be powerless, which was probably safe for her. Except Cerberus might send someone to kill her and she wouldn’t be able to protect Oriana. No. She had to disappear.
After giving two years of her life to bringing Shepard back and traveling with him all across the galaxy to save humanity, going on incredible adventures, she felt suffocated on the ship. The tension was building between them, and the crew started to give her disapproving looks. Once the best place in the galaxy to be, the Normandy became a trap and she wanted to get off. She almost looked forward to being an intergalactic fugitive, running from three different enemies. This is what it all came down to-
The beep of the communicator jolted her back to reality again. It was Liara calling. They docked at the station a few hours ago, Liara no doubt giving Feron, but mostly Shepard a warm welcome and a small tour, being very attentive. They still had a couple of hours until the Normandy was ready to leave and start the slow trek back to Earth. She had been sitting at her desk for the last hour, dreading this call.
“Hi, Miranda,” Liara smiled warmly, her tone sweet and overly friendly, like a girlfriend making a social call. “I was wondering if you could drop by. We could catch up and talk some shop. Some quality girl time. What do you say?” Miranda glared at her disdainfully. “Sure, Liara. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” “That would be great!”
They ended the call and Miranda sat there for another minute or so fuming, trying to calm down enough so she wouldn’t be trembling with rage when she got up. Eventually she let out a long sigh and stood, flicking on her omnitool, picked up a few things from her desk and made her way to the airlock.
She managed to avoid Shepard and most of the command staff but she still managed to stir up a low murmur among the crew as she passed. EDI provided a daily compilation on the crew’s status, morale and anything she found relevant, which was merciless, but even if the AI knew compassion, it also knew that as the XO, Miranda would have wanted to get the information. She just couldn’t find the strength to read about how Shepard’s foul mood affected things and what people thought about her.
She took her time to get to Liara’s quarters, which took up a third of the space station. She was fiddling with her omnitool and read a datapad on the way, passing through halls and winding corridors. She put her gear down outside Liara’s place at the instructions of the security guards before she was allowed to enter.
The lair was a spacious, elegantly furnished suite, just flashy enough to pass for a mining company CEO’s headquarters. Not too discreet, not too flashy. One wall was just panels of double-layered windows with blast shields, giving a gorgeous view at the gas giant, around which the moon orbited.
Liara stood in front of the window, with her back to Miranda in a very theatrical pose, fashioning a long gown with an open back. She looked back at Miranda over her shoulder and smiled. “Miranda!” She motioned at a table next to her with tall glasses and a bottle of expensive wine on it. “You don’t look so good.”
The High Cost of Perfection 1.7
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:12:56 UTC
Miranda didn’t reply and didn’t make a move towards the asari, just folded her arms and stopped in the middle of the room. Liara chuckled softly, poured two glasses and walked up to her. Part of the wall opposite the windows was covered with monitors. Not as grandiose as the room on Hagalaz, but serving the same purpose. Half a dozen video feeds were running on them, none from this station.
On the middle one, a young brunette was sitting in a library, making notes on her portable, while reading datapads. It was a university campus, probably on Illium and Miranda was looking at a security feed of Oriana. Her heart sank.
“Mmm, yes. Lovely girl. Smart. She has a good future ahead of her. I am sure you agree.” Liara purred, stopping next to Miranda, handing her a glass while looking at the monitors. “Is… is this live?” she asked, taking the offered glass. Suddenly she needed a drink. “No. But I get daily updates.” Liara sounded positively cheerful. Miranda glared at her, that made Liara laugh. “Don’t worry. I hold up my end of the deal. You held up yours, marvelously. I should have known, that you would be thorough. And now I can pick up the pieces.”
Miranda scoffed. “I wish you could hear yourself, Liara. You sound like a petty little girl. You used to be better than this.” Liara’s eyes flashed, but she brushed away the anger. She was having her moment of victory at Miranda’s expense.
“Trying to appeal to my better nature, Miranda? Like when you convinced me to hand Shepard’s body over to you?” she strolled up to the screens and stopped next to the one showing Oriana, staring at it like she was looking out a window. “Well, I knew you could be trouble right then. The oh-so-pretty human woman. And then two years of waiting and hoping that he would come back.” She turned away to look at Miranda, who was still standing in one place, sipping the wine just to hide her nervousness. “He did, just not to me. You have no idea what it felt like. To lose him again.” Liara grimaced and waved a hand at her. “You can imagine my distress when I read your file and realized your genetic makeup. A perfect human female. I had to do something.”
“Why did you call me here?” Miranda asked, not interested in an other power-drunk monologue of resentment, superiority and childish glee. She started to have a bad feeling about this conversation. Liara didn’t need to call her here, or if she did, she should have got to the point by now.
Liara glared at her with a hurt expression, walking up to Miranda. “To talk about respect, Miranda,” she hissed, looking over her, snatching the half empty glass from her hand. “I think I have proven to you how serious I am and yet, I feel you do not respect me.”
Miranda held her gaze, but kept quiet. Her apprehension grew by the minute, her heart racing. Liara, however, expected a response. “What do you expect from me, Liara? You blackmail me with my sister, force me to break Shepard’s heart and I should respect you? Why?” “I think I have earned it, Miranda. The least you could do is show your gratitude for not harming your sister.”
Miranda hid her growing concern behind a voice of disdain. “You are insane.” Liara leaned closer and glared at her from barely an inch away. “See? That there! You still don’t get it, do you?” “Get what? I used to have respect for you. Not any more. All that knowledge you gained from the Shadow Broker corrupted you. Think about it, Liara! What would Shepard think if he saw this side of you?!”
“Enough!” Liara yelled, cutting off her passionate, last ditch attempt of persuasion. Miranda felt an odd sense of doom, like she walked into a trap and just realized it. And she didn’t even knew what it was.
It started with a backhanded slap. Liara’s body started glowing blue and she grabbed Miranda’s throat. Her hands flew up and gripped Liara’s wrist with both hands, baring her teeth. “I think we further need to establish who is in control, Miranda. You don’t know how real the threat is, until you get a taste of the consequences.”
The High Cost of Perfection 1.8
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:13:41 UTC
Miranda’s eyes widened and her gaze darted to the monitors, afraid of what she will find there. “Oh, you thought I’d do that?” the asari laughed amused. “Mmm, it would be counter-productive.” She let go of Miranda’s throat, and took a small step back to look her over. “No. I’m not stooping that low. But you thought I would.”
Miranda swallowed, rubbing her neck where Liara squeezed it. “What do you want?” The asari pressed a palm against her chest. They were alone in the room, and Miranda knew she could put up a good fight against the asari, maybe even come out on top. And yet, over Liara’s shoulder, she saw her sister and she knew she was powerless. “If you won’t give me the proper respect, I have to resort to other methods.”
Liara reached for the collar of Miranda’s outfit and began to open her jacket. “What the-” Miranda growled, brushing Liara’s hand away, taking a step back. “You can’t be serious.” Liara giggled, looking at her chest and shaking her head. “Now, now. You need to feel who is in charge here, Miranda. You need to know you can’t win this, so you don’t get any ideas. Do you understand?”
Miranda tried to remain calm, hide the fact that her heart was racing and she had trouble keeping her breathing regular. She understood. Of course she understood. And normally she wouldn’t be scared, but the past few days had taken their toll on her nerves. Right now the only thing she could do was not show obvious signs of fear. She let Liara open her jacket and run her hands along her torso, slipping her warm palms under her tank top.
“I get it, Liara. You don’t have to do this,” she whispered, grimacing uncomfortably, pulling her shoulders up as her jacket dropped to the floor. “Yes, I do.” She squeezed her breast eagerly, making Miranda hiss. When the asari reached for her belt, Miranda slapped her hand away again. Liara smirked. “So you are going to do this the hard way, hmm?”
Miranda pressed her lips thin, her gaze full of boiling anger. She started opening her pants herself and slowly slipped out of it, keeping her eyes on Liara defiantly. She already knew she had lost, and she was trying to prepare herself for the pain and humiliation to follow. That didn’t mean, though, that she could not show some strength in this power play. She could settle for small victories at this point.
Liara seemed to miss the hint, but nonetheless she gave Miranda an amused look. Miranda stepped out of her pants and stood in front of her in a small tank top and cotton panties. Not waiting for the asari to give her more instructions, she pulled off the top and waited a few seconds before pushing her panties down.
Miranda pulled herself straight, chin up, and stood in the middle of the room completely naked, the view of the gas giant behind her. Liara tilted her head as she admired her form, said something about being an anatomically pleasing sight for asaris, while her hands ran along her waist and cupped her breast with obvious lust. Miranda didn’t listen, just stared straight ahead, secretly keeping an eye on the monitor showing Oriana. At least she is okay. She seems to be doing good, she thought and that almost made her weep. She tore her gaze away and endured Liara’s groping while she rambled about being fascinated with human hair.
“-I bet you trimmed it for Shepard” she was saying as she touched her sex, making her jump a bit. It brought her back to the present, feeling the warm touch, the asari’s palm cupping the smooth curve of her mound. “I did my research, you know.”
She tried to pull away, standing on tiptoes and frowning, shooting Liara another killer stare. “Can’t you just shut up and get on with it?” Miranda hissed, at the limits of her patience.
Liara chuckled, her fingertips poking between her folds that made her clench her thighs, trapping the asari’s hand. Miranda put a hand on her arm, pushing it away, but Liara was not letting it go. Pressing her other hand against Miranda’s full breast she started to grope her, forcing her to tiptoe backwards, Liara striding after her, their bodies almost pressing together.
The High Cost of Perfection 1.9
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:14:38 UTC
They bumped into a doorframe and Liara pinned her against the wall until she opened the door. They slipped in as soon as it slid open, the asari keeping her grip between Miranda’s thighs and returning to groping her breast. “I just have to know what Shepard saw in you,” Liara purred, their bodies pressing together. Miranda could only turn her head away with a mild grimace, the asari’s hand pressed between her thighs. She squirmed. Liara did her research on human anatomy, that was sure.
Liara took a deep breath through her nose, eyes closing, taking in Miranda’s scent and hummed appreciatively. There was a dresser next to them and the asari reached out to pick up a jar, while she removed her hand from her sex.
Miranda relaxed a bit, sinking back onto her heels and closing her thighs, trying to calm herself down. This was just the beginning and the uncertainty was gnawing on her nerves. “This is an asari ointment,” Liara chattered, dipping her fingers into it and spooning out a handful. “Water of Janiris. Spices and oily fruits. I’m sure there are human equivalents.”
She flashed a friendly smile at Miranda, spreading the pale, milky gel on her palms and then pressing them on her breasts with a firm move. Miranda jumped again, feeling the warm palms press her breasts flat, before the asari started to spread the cream on her torso generously, massaging it into her skin, working her way down her toned belly towards her lap.
“It helps asaris relax and heightens our senses. Many couples use it during sex, to enhance the melding. It acts as a kind of conductor to the psychic link.” Her rubbing palms reached Miranda’s hip and she twisted her palm in a half circle over her smooth skin and glided it between her closed thighs. “Kind of like a lubricant for humans.” Liara added with a grin and worked her fingers expertly over Miranda’s smooth mound.
Miranda winced, pressing her palms flat against the wall next to her hips, trying to control her rising panic. Liara touching her sex made her extremely uncomfortable, bad memories stirring in the back of her mind.
Her loin was also stirring, the effect of the cream starting to kick in as she felt her body getting warmer from her breasts down to her thighs. It was like her skin tightened even more, her nipples hardening and the heat washing over her, making her sex tingle. She gasped as Liara massaged her mound and stroked her belly with her other hand. She was watching Miranda with a playful glint in her eyes, curious about her reaction.
As the heat rose, Miranda hissed or gasped at every touch, her flesh becoming more sensitive by the second. Her face flushed and she closed her eyes, finally unable to restrain herself and grabbed Liara’s wrist, trying to push it away from her squirming lap.
She closed her eyes, breathing heavily now, fighting Liara’s firm hands. “Uh, I did what you told me, huhh, Liara!” She said through clenched teeth. “Just. Stop.”
Her brain was fighting with her body, the terror of somebody touching her against her will again clashing with the scents and the pleasant tingling in her core. She thought she left those bad memories behind more than a decade ago, but they were threatening to come back again. As she kept gasping and breathing heavily, which no doubt made her breasts sway to the delight of Liara, she wondered if the asari knew about it and did this on purpose. Her mind was getting fuzzy, though, making it harder to think this through. Not that it would help her-
When Liara’s hands disappeared, Miranda sighed in relief, pressing her knees together, trying to catch her breath and looked up, her face half-hidden by her hair. The asari was smiling, and slipping her dress off her body with graceful flicks of her shoulder, her arms running over her own chest as the fabric fell away.
The High Cost of Perfection 1.10
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:15:21 UTC
She let out a sigh, half closing her eyes, very satisfied with herself. One blue hand ran down the curve of her hip, cupping her azure for a delicious second. Miranda watched her with apprehension, trying to figure out what was coming next. Even in this state, she could refuse the meld, at least she hoped so. She doubted that Liara could read everything in her mind even if she managed to break down her defenses. She was more worried about the how.
She found out the next moment, when Liara reached into the top drawer of the dresser and produced a strapon. “Really?!” Miranda groaned, sweat breaking out on her scalp, and her arms started trembling. Was the asari going to fuck her senseless until she lets her inside her head? That was the plan? She knew in her right mind that it was not how it worked, but she barely slept in the last few days and she was a carefully contained nervous wreck even before she stepped into Liara’s neat little trap. It still wouldn’t work. Probably.
Liara swiftly slipped into the transparent blue straps and fastened it on her waist. She reached into the drawer as she started prattling again. “Did you know that the batarian’s genitals resemble the human genitals the closest? Although, a bit larger and very ridgey.” She slipped an anatomically correct plastic replica of it to her straps. “The main difference is that their surface is kind of rough. Like… sharkskin. Apparently this stimulates ovulation in batarian females.”
Miranda shook her head slowly, eyes closed, leaning on her knees with her hands. “Don’t.” It wasn’t a request. It was more like an argument. An exhausted effort at convincing Liara. “The human colonization guide discourages experimentation with cross-species copulation,” Liara went on, putting on a headband with a neural transmitter, and rubbing her palms over her new appendage, coating it with the remnants of the asari ointment. “Ooh, I can see why. It’s rough.” Liara purred. Miranda shook her head again, gasping from the heat that engulfed her body, and she felt dampness between her thighs.
It was hard to fight back her rising panic. She was already feeling that familiar pressure in her chest, and her vision narrowing, all her thoughts concentrating on minimizing the inevitable discomfort. It took all her willpower not to whimper or try to run away when Liara turned her around and pressed her chest against her back. She felt the asari’s breasts squeeze into her shoulder blades and the strapon pushing between her thighs.
She pressed her palms and cheeks against the wall, closing her eyes as she felt groping hands over her hips and ass. “Time for the lesson,” Liara whispered, her voice full of anticipation and restrained lust. “Don’t… don’t…” Miranda mumbled, whispering it again and again in a higher pitch as she felt fingers digging into her flesh, stretching it and then the strapon touching against her sensitive folds. She let out a terrified whimper, squeezing her eyes shut.
The pressure kept building on her sex, the asari kept muttering something and then there was a push and a strain and she couldn’t stop the painful cry escaping her lips. It was worse than she remembered, worse than she expected it, the crude instrument working its way inside her. Pain and terror paralyzed her. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to open her eyes until it was over. In her mind the more she stopped resisting and moving, the sooner it was over.
The ridges ground against her folds, stretched her walls and sent jolts of pain along her spine. Liara moaned in delight, the neural transmitter providing feedback from the strapon to her pleasure centers. She could almost feel as the batarian cock invaded Miranda’s tight sex, the pressure sensors sending impulses to the headband.
The High Cost of Perfection 1.11
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:16:20 UTC
It didn’t convey what Miranda felt, though, but the tightness was exquisite, if the asari’s moans of pleasure were any indication. She settled into a crude, but steady rhythm, the ointment providing some lubrication and Miranda’s body gradually started to accommodate better to the device. The oils also helped reduce the chafing, but not enough. Miranda felt the burning sensation creeping deeper and deeper inside her delicate flesh, her sex strained around the girth, the ridges irritating her folds as they moved in and out.
She clung to the wall desperately, her heart racing faster, fear crushing her chest, trying to dig her fingernails into the plastic, pressing her cheek to the wall harder, hoping for some comfort. Liara was very vocal about her own pleasure, and she kept stroking Miranda’s hair during the whole time, no doubt increasing her sensation. Miranda couldn’t help the moans of pain escaping her lips. After a while she could time her breathing to the rhythm of their bodies connecting, easing the pressures somewhat.
She was probably still loud enough for Liara’s pleasure. As the unwanted lubrication helped the act along, it didn’t take too long for the asari to reach her climax. She squeezed Miranda’s hip and shuddered, letting out deep, long moans of lust. By this time Miranda’s legs gave up and she collapsed on the floor, the asari on her back, filling her sex completely with her toy. Miranda let out a painful moan as they stopped, the appendage pressing into her flesh. She kept hugging the wall and waited, frozen in place until Liara caught her breath.
There was one last jolt of pain as the asari unceremoniously pulled out of her, making her gasp again. It’s over. Thank god, it’s over! She slowly sank to the floor, all strength leaving her. The memory of the strapon was still intense, it felt like it was still inside her. She was trying to breathe regularly, while she felt Liara grope her ass, making crude remarks about her gaping, swollen flesh. Miranda knew that the burning sensation will not leave easily.
There was a playful spank on her ass, but she was too exhausted to even react. “Do you get it now, Miranda?” She swallowed, nodding feebly, still unable to push herself up from the floor. “This is how it feels to get raped by a batarian. A gentle one…” there was a pause. Next time Liara spoke closer, leaning over Miranda. “Imagine how it would feel like if there were more of them… Imagine how it would feel for Oriana.”
Miranda let out an exhausted sigh, trying to curl up on the floor. She fought with her tears, and the dread that seeped into her bones. She felt the asari run her hand over her body once more, then she felt cooler air rushing in as she stood up. Judging from the noises she started cleaning herself. “Now you know. Not only that I am serious, but also understand what the consequences feel like. I hope I made myself clear.”
She didn’t expect an answer, but Miranda wanted it to be over, wanted to make sure it was over. “Yes, yes you did,” she panted, her voice trembling. “How ironic, that Shepard suggested I should try to talk to you and find out what happened that changed your mind about him.” Liara laughed. “I was just too happy to oblige. Sadly, I will have to tell him that you crudely brushed me off… which wouldn’t be a complete lie, of course.” Another laugh. “I will be very understanding of course, and won’t take it to heart.”
The High Cost of Perfection 1.12
anonymous
November 23 2013, 15:17:12 UTC
Miranda forced herself to sit, still reluctant to raise her head. She felt stronger now, but her lap was still on fire and the uncomfortable sensation of the invasion refused to go away. “He told me you will get off before you reach Earth. That’s smart. Until then, we will make sure he will not change his mind. I know we agree on this one, right?” “Yes, right,” Miranda whispered, defeated. She couldn’t fight this any more. She would do and say anything that would get her out of here without more pain. “Good,” she felt the asari tussle her hair. “Appearances need to be kept, though. No hidden signals, no tricks, no secret messages. It will be business as usual with the XO until you disappear.” Liara paused until she got a nod and a mumble from Miranda. “You will receive instructions on your terminal. Remember. I see everything.” “Yes. I understand.” She lifted her head and looked up at Liara. “Can I- can I keep in touch with Oriana?” Liara frowned, like Miranda was an annoying child. “I guess you can. But she will be monitored, too.” “She-she will be safe? You promise?” There was a frustrated sigh, the asari obviously bored with the conversation now. “Yeah, yeah. Get yourself cleaned up and go back to the Normandy.”
Miranda sniffed, wiping her face dry and slowly she stood up on trembling legs. Liara was already in the living room, sitting down before a terminal, pouring herself another glass of wine. Miranda just stared ahead as she limped across the living room, picking up her discarded clothing slowly on the way to the bathroom.
The shower helped a little, at least she looked decent after it, but inside she felt broken. She still felt that… thing inside her, she had to walk carefully and it was an effort to keep all expression from her face. She didn’t dare to let go under the water and make Liara’s victory even greater by throwing up or sobbing in the shower. She just wanted to get out as fast as possible.
----- A/N: End of chapter one. I want the record to show that this time it wasn’t my idea to make Liara into such an evil bitch. It came with the prompt. (Sorry for the strapon technobabble. I needed it to make sense in my mind.) Also, the batarian anatomy idea was lifted from the alien genitalia discussion here: http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6066.html?thread=27533490&#t27533490
Off to chapter two after I regain some of my humanity.
Re: The High Cost of Perfection 1.12
anonymous
November 23 2013, 21:37:19 UTC
OP. This is everything I wanted and so much more. I seriously doubt anyone else could have written this any better. I'm very happy that we view Miranda so similarly and your evil bitch Liara is fantastic so far. And I think you shouldn't feel bad, it's not like you are glorifying sexual violence, quite the opposite actually.
There is one thing I don't understand, though. Why didn't you post this on the newest page? Your story is way too good to get lost in the sea of prompts.
Re: The High Cost of Perfection 1.12
anonymous
November 23 2013, 22:34:15 UTC
Wow, thank you, it's always good to hear from the OP.
As for your question, I can answer to almost everything I wrote about, but I have no answer for that one. Never crossed my mind to post it at the last page within the same part. Although that would explain the low rate of comments on this and previous fills. I'm not even sure what's the policy on that (e.g.: if it's considered spamming)
But now that you are here, a caveat: I realized this chapter covers your original prompt. There is the option of writing a few more paragraphs about Miranda disappearing off into the unknown and Liara ending up in Shepard's arms and consoling him while smiling an evil smile into the camera. Then fade to black, end of story.
My question is this: Just out of curiousity, how satisfactory would that be? Wouldn't you wanna know what happens to them next?
Re: The High Cost of Perfection 1.12
anonymous
November 24 2013, 07:52:32 UTC
It wouldn't be very satisfactory, but it seems to be the most logical conclusion if the story would end there, right? I mean, it would be a fitting ending.
But you are right, at this point I'm really curious how you want to continue the story, especially if you throw Jack into the mix and I want to see those scenes from the end that you mentioned.
Also, I read the rules and hints and I can't see why it would be considered spamming, but we'll see.
Re: The High Cost of Perfection 1.12
anonymous
November 24 2013, 09:25:16 UTC
Enjoyed this. Nicely written. Would really like to see more scenes between Liara and Miranda, Also would really like to see more of Liara getting under Miranda's skin, the hair part was a nice touch.
Miranda was incredulous. She knew this type from high school and college, but it was still strange to see it in a 100-year old asari scientist. Granted, she didn’t have too much social life either, just like all the nerdy girls, and that included Miranda, too. Added to the mix was the “I saw him first” syndrome, and Miranda suddenly felt herself like a member of the cheerleader squad who had a crush on the same football player stud that the head cheerleader chose for herself. At this point, she could not contain her laughter any more. She saw the irony in the cheerleader analogy, and Jack would probably get a kick out of it. Miranda Lawson was being out-cheerleadered…
Liara didn’t appreciate the laughter, though. She took it as mockery and she quickly became furious and quickly skipped the rest of her prepared monologue and pulled out her strongest, and frankly, her only real card: Oriana.
Miranda kind of suspected that this was up in the air, but she really hoped Liara would not sink that low. She was wrong. Liara T’soni, scholar and information broker was so infatuated with love that she actually threatened to kill Miranda’s sister if she did not back off. It didn’t surprise Miranda, but it did hurt. Her gradual admiration of the asari’s knowledge and personality completely evaporated, her faith in people in general was crumbling fast.
Miranda also knew that at moment, she lost the battle and quite possibly, she would lose the war, too. Any hope of appealing to Liara’s intellect and empathy was gone. She did one last desperate attempt to convince Liara that this was not the way to earn Shepard’s love, and it would not be the same. It didn’t help. It also didn’t work when Miranda tried to appeal to her vanity, saying that she will always be a replacement, a second choice for Shepard. Oddly enough, Liara was okay with that. She was content with being only a runner-up, a rebound, if it meant his arms around her. In any other circumstance, Miranda would find this bit of information about the asari’s self-esteem and ego interesting, but at that moment it was useless to her.
It only took a couple of weeks for the power to corrupt Liara. Days and days alone with all that data at her fingertips, looking up familiar names at first, and a glimpse to see, what can she achieve with this information. Sure, at first, it was probably all about fighting the Reapers, but that nagging feeling must have won over, to check out the Normandy crew and see her chance of getting her love back.
Liara was not patient any more and she quickly ended the argument with one little sentence that held every bit of information Miranda needed. “Ask yourself this question, Miranda: Does it worth fighting me over him and risking everything you worked for in the past eighteen years?”
And Miranda understood. Any attempt at winning Shepard back would put Oriana at risk.
This was the difference between their conflict and your run-of-the-mill high school rivalry: Miranda spent her teenage years between the richest, the most elite students Earth had to offer. Every girl was powerful. Most of them spoiled. But with them, Miranda was on equal ground. She had nothing to lose, the only good thing about her father was the family name and power which made her equal by default and superior to them by intellect. She could handle those girls, and most of the time, she would just let them win the unimportant battles. They were insignificant.
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--------------
There. Can I go to sleep now?
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Also, I like what you are doing with Liara, she is shaping up to be an interesting villain.
And I'm really sorry that you don't enjoy writing this, but I hope at least it's a good challenge or something?
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And it's not pretty. Horribly fucked up right about covers it. Two scenes from the end just burned themselves into my brain and the only way to get rid of them is to write my way there.
That being said, while it makes me miserable, it is the best kind of creative challenge. If it wouldn't be challenging, if it wouldn't push me out of my comfort zone, I'd probably be able to ignore the prompt and not write it. If it's not challenging, my writing wouldn't be any good.
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Before she could start typing though, she stopped and looked around, narrowing her eyes. She glared at every nook and cranny of her office, unmoving, like a deer caught in the headlights. Every object was suspicious, every shadow a threat… She shook her head. This was pointless.
In the end she forced herself to stand up, move her limbs and make it to the showers. It took all her willpower to get there. She stood under a rush of steaming hot water until her skin turned pink, hoping that the water would wash away at least some of the pain. It didn’t, of course and she had to stop at one point, before she used up all the water. Besides, she had to pull herself together. It was important to keep up appearances, run the ship as usual and not let the crew feel anything of the tension. They would find out of course, faster than she preferred, so there will be whisperings behind her back. Again.
She stopped by the canteen and stocked up on food and drink, deciding it would be best to spend most of her time in her quarters for the next couple of days. She also took a few things from the ship’s storage before locking herself in her room.
She more or less stuck to her plan, only emerging to take a shower or to work out when nobody was around, and during the day cycle only when she was called to handle something ship-related, which was scarce now that they managed to fix most of the damage and they were not in a rush.
Loneliness was not exactly new to her. She was alone all her life. In school, where her father forbid her to make friends. In Cerberus she had colleagues, but she wouldn’t call them friends. The Illusive Man kept his distance, Jacob came late and was a welcome distraction, but it never went too deep. She worked alone, even when leading the Lazarus team. She was OK with that, until Shepard woke up and persistently tried to form a real connection with her. And for a little while, for a few months she finally felt like she wasn’t alone. She slowly came to trust and feel… something.
Betrayal was familiar as well. Niket was a disappointment, really. Wilson was… irrelevant. She had no qualms pulling the trigger in both cases. And of course, she betrayed her father when she ran away, and betrayed the man who took her in after that, when she sided with Shepard on the Collector Base. In that light, Liara’s betrayal should not have surprised her.
And yet, the pain, that nagging feeling like something was torn from her chest, that was new. In all her life, she only had a few months of contentment, a little relief, sharing the weight with others. With one particular person. Oh, how blissful it was to share! It wasn’t a long time, really, not compared to the previous decades, but it was enough that the loss of it made her whimper at night, balled up in her bed, clawing at her chest to get rid of the tingling sensation, to get at the cold emptiness. It shouldn’t have been this painful. She could only hope, that it would fade and things would return to the way they were before.
Of course, Kelly came, genuine concern on her face, assuring her that she was there to listen and help. Jacob dropped by, too, baffled at the breakup, giving her the “i thought things were going fine” speech and encouraged her to sort it out with John. Chakwas made an attempt, too under the guise of a medical checkup and tried to convince her into talking with Shepard. In all cases she politely thanked them for their concern, smiling sadly and ensured them that when she was ready to talk, she would. She just needed time now. Even Kasumi dropped by, uninvited of course and in her straightforward way, asked her very personal questions and called all her answers stupid. They had a great talk.
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Miranda didn’t sleep much during that time. She worked a lot, stayed busy in her free time and made an effort not to look like a mess. Her first step was to sweep her room for listening devices. The next was to sketch up a plan until she can leave the ship, and what to do after it. She even considered surrendering and going into Alliance custody. She would be powerless, which was probably safe for her. Except Cerberus might send someone to kill her and she wouldn’t be able to protect Oriana. No. She had to disappear.
After giving two years of her life to bringing Shepard back and traveling with him all across the galaxy to save humanity, going on incredible adventures, she felt suffocated on the ship. The tension was building between them, and the crew started to give her disapproving looks. Once the best place in the galaxy to be, the Normandy became a trap and she wanted to get off. She almost looked forward to being an intergalactic fugitive, running from three different enemies. This is what it all came down to-
The beep of the communicator jolted her back to reality again. It was Liara calling. They docked at the station a few hours ago, Liara no doubt giving Feron, but mostly Shepard a warm welcome and a small tour, being very attentive. They still had a couple of hours until the Normandy was ready to leave and start the slow trek back to Earth. She had been sitting at her desk for the last hour, dreading this call.
“Hi, Miranda,” Liara smiled warmly, her tone sweet and overly friendly, like a girlfriend making a social call. “I was wondering if you could drop by. We could catch up and talk some shop. Some quality girl time. What do you say?”
Miranda glared at her disdainfully.
“Sure, Liara. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“That would be great!”
They ended the call and Miranda sat there for another minute or so fuming, trying to calm down enough so she wouldn’t be trembling with rage when she got up. Eventually she let out a long sigh and stood, flicking on her omnitool, picked up a few things from her desk and made her way to the airlock.
She managed to avoid Shepard and most of the command staff but she still managed to stir up a low murmur among the crew as she passed. EDI provided a daily compilation on the crew’s status, morale and anything she found relevant, which was merciless, but even if the AI knew compassion, it also knew that as the XO, Miranda would have wanted to get the information. She just couldn’t find the strength to read about how Shepard’s foul mood affected things and what people thought about her.
She took her time to get to Liara’s quarters, which took up a third of the space station. She was fiddling with her omnitool and read a datapad on the way, passing through halls and winding corridors. She put her gear down outside Liara’s place at the instructions of the security guards before she was allowed to enter.
The lair was a spacious, elegantly furnished suite, just flashy enough to pass for a mining company CEO’s headquarters. Not too discreet, not too flashy. One wall was just panels of double-layered windows with blast shields, giving a gorgeous view at the gas giant, around which the moon orbited.
Liara stood in front of the window, with her back to Miranda in a very theatrical pose, fashioning a long gown with an open back. She looked back at Miranda over her shoulder and smiled.
“Miranda!” She motioned at a table next to her with tall glasses and a bottle of expensive wine on it. “You don’t look so good.”
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On the middle one, a young brunette was sitting in a library, making notes on her portable, while reading datapads. It was a university campus, probably on Illium and Miranda was looking at a security feed of Oriana. Her heart sank.
“Mmm, yes. Lovely girl. Smart. She has a good future ahead of her. I am sure you agree.” Liara purred, stopping next to Miranda, handing her a glass while looking at the monitors.
“Is… is this live?” she asked, taking the offered glass. Suddenly she needed a drink.
“No. But I get daily updates.” Liara sounded positively cheerful. Miranda glared at her, that made Liara laugh. “Don’t worry. I hold up my end of the deal. You held up yours, marvelously. I should have known, that you would be thorough. And now I can pick up the pieces.”
Miranda scoffed.
“I wish you could hear yourself, Liara. You sound like a petty little girl. You used to be better than this.”
Liara’s eyes flashed, but she brushed away the anger. She was having her moment of victory at Miranda’s expense.
“Trying to appeal to my better nature, Miranda? Like when you convinced me to hand Shepard’s body over to you?” she strolled up to the screens and stopped next to the one showing Oriana, staring at it like she was looking out a window. “Well, I knew you could be trouble right then. The oh-so-pretty human woman. And then two years of waiting and hoping that he would come back.” She turned away to look at Miranda, who was still standing in one place, sipping the wine just to hide her nervousness. “He did, just not to me. You have no idea what it felt like. To lose him again.” Liara grimaced and waved a hand at her. “You can imagine my distress when I read your file and realized your genetic makeup. A perfect human female. I had to do something.”
“Why did you call me here?” Miranda asked, not interested in an other power-drunk monologue of resentment, superiority and childish glee. She started to have a bad feeling about this conversation. Liara didn’t need to call her here, or if she did, she should have got to the point by now.
Liara glared at her with a hurt expression, walking up to Miranda.
“To talk about respect, Miranda,” she hissed, looking over her, snatching the half empty glass from her hand. “I think I have proven to you how serious I am and yet, I feel you do not respect me.”
Miranda held her gaze, but kept quiet. Her apprehension grew by the minute, her heart racing. Liara, however, expected a response.
“What do you expect from me, Liara? You blackmail me with my sister, force me to break Shepard’s heart and I should respect you? Why?”
“I think I have earned it, Miranda. The least you could do is show your gratitude for not harming your sister.”
Miranda hid her growing concern behind a voice of disdain. “You are insane.”
Liara leaned closer and glared at her from barely an inch away. “See? That there! You still don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what? I used to have respect for you. Not any more. All that knowledge you gained from the Shadow Broker corrupted you. Think about it, Liara! What would Shepard think if he saw this side of you?!”
“Enough!” Liara yelled, cutting off her passionate, last ditch attempt of persuasion. Miranda felt an odd sense of doom, like she walked into a trap and just realized it. And she didn’t even knew what it was.
It started with a backhanded slap. Liara’s body started glowing blue and she grabbed Miranda’s throat. Her hands flew up and gripped Liara’s wrist with both hands, baring her teeth.
“I think we further need to establish who is in control, Miranda. You don’t know how real the threat is, until you get a taste of the consequences.”
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“Oh, you thought I’d do that?” the asari laughed amused. “Mmm, it would be counter-productive.” She let go of Miranda’s throat, and took a small step back to look her over. “No. I’m not stooping that low. But you thought I would.”
Miranda swallowed, rubbing her neck where Liara squeezed it. “What do you want?”
The asari pressed a palm against her chest. They were alone in the room, and Miranda knew she could put up a good fight against the asari, maybe even come out on top. And yet, over Liara’s shoulder, she saw her sister and she knew she was powerless.
“If you won’t give me the proper respect, I have to resort to other methods.”
Liara reached for the collar of Miranda’s outfit and began to open her jacket.
“What the-” Miranda growled, brushing Liara’s hand away, taking a step back. “You can’t be serious.”
Liara giggled, looking at her chest and shaking her head. “Now, now. You need to feel who is in charge here, Miranda. You need to know you can’t win this, so you don’t get any ideas. Do you understand?”
Miranda tried to remain calm, hide the fact that her heart was racing and she had trouble keeping her breathing regular. She understood. Of course she understood. And normally she wouldn’t be scared, but the past few days had taken their toll on her nerves. Right now the only thing she could do was not show obvious signs of fear. She let Liara open her jacket and run her hands along her torso, slipping her warm palms under her tank top.
“I get it, Liara. You don’t have to do this,” she whispered, grimacing uncomfortably, pulling her shoulders up as her jacket dropped to the floor.
“Yes, I do.” She squeezed her breast eagerly, making Miranda hiss. When the asari reached for her belt, Miranda slapped her hand away again. Liara smirked. “So you are going to do this the hard way, hmm?”
Miranda pressed her lips thin, her gaze full of boiling anger. She started opening her pants herself and slowly slipped out of it, keeping her eyes on Liara defiantly. She already knew she had lost, and she was trying to prepare herself for the pain and humiliation to follow. That didn’t mean, though, that she could not show some strength in this power play. She could settle for small victories at this point.
Liara seemed to miss the hint, but nonetheless she gave Miranda an amused look. Miranda stepped out of her pants and stood in front of her in a small tank top and cotton panties. Not waiting for the asari to give her more instructions, she pulled off the top and waited a few seconds before pushing her panties down.
Miranda pulled herself straight, chin up, and stood in the middle of the room completely naked, the view of the gas giant behind her. Liara tilted her head as she admired her form, said something about being an anatomically pleasing sight for asaris, while her hands ran along her waist and cupped her breast with obvious lust. Miranda didn’t listen, just stared straight ahead, secretly keeping an eye on the monitor showing Oriana. At least she is okay. She seems to be doing good, she thought and that almost made her weep. She tore her gaze away and endured Liara’s groping while she rambled about being fascinated with human hair.
“-I bet you trimmed it for Shepard” she was saying as she touched her sex, making her jump a bit. It brought her back to the present, feeling the warm touch, the asari’s palm cupping the smooth curve of her mound. “I did my research, you know.”
She tried to pull away, standing on tiptoes and frowning, shooting Liara another killer stare.
“Can’t you just shut up and get on with it?” Miranda hissed, at the limits of her patience.
Liara chuckled, her fingertips poking between her folds that made her clench her thighs, trapping the asari’s hand. Miranda put a hand on her arm, pushing it away, but Liara was not letting it go. Pressing her other hand against Miranda’s full breast she started to grope her, forcing her to tiptoe backwards, Liara striding after her, their bodies almost pressing together.
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“I just have to know what Shepard saw in you,” Liara purred, their bodies pressing together. Miranda could only turn her head away with a mild grimace, the asari’s hand pressed between her thighs. She squirmed. Liara did her research on human anatomy, that was sure.
Liara took a deep breath through her nose, eyes closing, taking in Miranda’s scent and hummed appreciatively. There was a dresser next to them and the asari reached out to pick up a jar, while she removed her hand from her sex.
Miranda relaxed a bit, sinking back onto her heels and closing her thighs, trying to calm herself down. This was just the beginning and the uncertainty was gnawing on her nerves.
“This is an asari ointment,” Liara chattered, dipping her fingers into it and spooning out a handful. “Water of Janiris. Spices and oily fruits. I’m sure there are human equivalents.”
She flashed a friendly smile at Miranda, spreading the pale, milky gel on her palms and then pressing them on her breasts with a firm move. Miranda jumped again, feeling the warm palms press her breasts flat, before the asari started to spread the cream on her torso generously, massaging it into her skin, working her way down her toned belly towards her lap.
“It helps asaris relax and heightens our senses. Many couples use it during sex, to enhance the melding. It acts as a kind of conductor to the psychic link.” Her rubbing palms reached Miranda’s hip and she twisted her palm in a half circle over her smooth skin and glided it between her closed thighs. “Kind of like a lubricant for humans.” Liara added with a grin and worked her fingers expertly over Miranda’s smooth mound.
Miranda winced, pressing her palms flat against the wall next to her hips, trying to control her rising panic. Liara touching her sex made her extremely uncomfortable, bad memories stirring in the back of her mind.
Her loin was also stirring, the effect of the cream starting to kick in as she felt her body getting warmer from her breasts down to her thighs. It was like her skin tightened even more, her nipples hardening and the heat washing over her, making her sex tingle. She gasped as Liara massaged her mound and stroked her belly with her other hand. She was watching Miranda with a playful glint in her eyes, curious about her reaction.
As the heat rose, Miranda hissed or gasped at every touch, her flesh becoming more sensitive by the second. Her face flushed and she closed her eyes, finally unable to restrain herself and grabbed Liara’s wrist, trying to push it away from her squirming lap.
She closed her eyes, breathing heavily now, fighting Liara’s firm hands.
“Uh, I did what you told me, huhh, Liara!” She said through clenched teeth. “Just. Stop.”
Her brain was fighting with her body, the terror of somebody touching her against her will again clashing with the scents and the pleasant tingling in her core. She thought she left those bad memories behind more than a decade ago, but they were threatening to come back again. As she kept gasping and breathing heavily, which no doubt made her breasts sway to the delight of Liara, she wondered if the asari knew about it and did this on purpose. Her mind was getting fuzzy, though, making it harder to think this through. Not that it would help her-
When Liara’s hands disappeared, Miranda sighed in relief, pressing her knees together, trying to catch her breath and looked up, her face half-hidden by her hair. The asari was smiling, and slipping her dress off her body with graceful flicks of her shoulder, her arms running over her own chest as the fabric fell away.
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She found out the next moment, when Liara reached into the top drawer of the dresser and produced a strapon.
“Really?!” Miranda groaned, sweat breaking out on her scalp, and her arms started trembling. Was the asari going to fuck her senseless until she lets her inside her head? That was the plan? She knew in her right mind that it was not how it worked, but she barely slept in the last few days and she was a carefully contained nervous wreck even before she stepped into Liara’s neat little trap. It still wouldn’t work. Probably.
Liara swiftly slipped into the transparent blue straps and fastened it on her waist. She reached into the drawer as she started prattling again.
“Did you know that the batarian’s genitals resemble the human genitals the closest? Although, a bit larger and very ridgey.” She slipped an anatomically correct plastic replica of it to her straps. “The main difference is that their surface is kind of rough. Like… sharkskin. Apparently this stimulates ovulation in batarian females.”
Miranda shook her head slowly, eyes closed, leaning on her knees with her hands.
“Don’t.” It wasn’t a request. It was more like an argument. An exhausted effort at convincing Liara.
“The human colonization guide discourages experimentation with cross-species copulation,” Liara went on, putting on a headband with a neural transmitter, and rubbing her palms over her new appendage, coating it with the remnants of the asari ointment. “Ooh, I can see why. It’s rough.” Liara purred. Miranda shook her head again, gasping from the heat that engulfed her body, and she felt dampness between her thighs.
It was hard to fight back her rising panic. She was already feeling that familiar pressure in her chest, and her vision narrowing, all her thoughts concentrating on minimizing the inevitable discomfort. It took all her willpower not to whimper or try to run away when Liara turned her around and pressed her chest against her back. She felt the asari’s breasts squeeze into her shoulder blades and the strapon pushing between her thighs.
She pressed her palms and cheeks against the wall, closing her eyes as she felt groping hands over her hips and ass.
“Time for the lesson,” Liara whispered, her voice full of anticipation and restrained lust.
“Don’t… don’t…” Miranda mumbled, whispering it again and again in a higher pitch as she felt fingers digging into her flesh, stretching it and then the strapon touching against her sensitive folds. She let out a terrified whimper, squeezing her eyes shut.
The pressure kept building on her sex, the asari kept muttering something and then there was a push and a strain and she couldn’t stop the painful cry escaping her lips. It was worse than she remembered, worse than she expected it, the crude instrument working its way inside her. Pain and terror paralyzed her. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to open her eyes until it was over. In her mind the more she stopped resisting and moving, the sooner it was over.
The ridges ground against her folds, stretched her walls and sent jolts of pain along her spine. Liara moaned in delight, the neural transmitter providing feedback from the strapon to her pleasure centers. She could almost feel as the batarian cock invaded Miranda’s tight sex, the pressure sensors sending impulses to the headband.
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She clung to the wall desperately, her heart racing faster, fear crushing her chest, trying to dig her fingernails into the plastic, pressing her cheek to the wall harder, hoping for some comfort. Liara was very vocal about her own pleasure, and she kept stroking Miranda’s hair during the whole time, no doubt increasing her sensation. Miranda couldn’t help the moans of pain escaping her lips. After a while she could time her breathing to the rhythm of their bodies connecting, easing the pressures somewhat.
She was probably still loud enough for Liara’s pleasure. As the unwanted lubrication helped the act along, it didn’t take too long for the asari to reach her climax. She squeezed Miranda’s hip and shuddered, letting out deep, long moans of lust. By this time Miranda’s legs gave up and she collapsed on the floor, the asari on her back, filling her sex completely with her toy. Miranda let out a painful moan as they stopped, the appendage pressing into her flesh. She kept hugging the wall and waited, frozen in place until Liara caught her breath.
There was one last jolt of pain as the asari unceremoniously pulled out of her, making her gasp again.
It’s over. Thank god, it’s over!
She slowly sank to the floor, all strength leaving her. The memory of the strapon was still intense, it felt like it was still inside her. She was trying to breathe regularly, while she felt Liara grope her ass, making crude remarks about her gaping, swollen flesh. Miranda knew that the burning sensation will not leave easily.
There was a playful spank on her ass, but she was too exhausted to even react.
“Do you get it now, Miranda?”
She swallowed, nodding feebly, still unable to push herself up from the floor.
“This is how it feels to get raped by a batarian. A gentle one…” there was a pause. Next time Liara spoke closer, leaning over Miranda. “Imagine how it would feel like if there were more of them… Imagine how it would feel for Oriana.”
Miranda let out an exhausted sigh, trying to curl up on the floor. She fought with her tears, and the dread that seeped into her bones. She felt the asari run her hand over her body once more, then she felt cooler air rushing in as she stood up. Judging from the noises she started cleaning herself.
“Now you know. Not only that I am serious, but also understand what the consequences feel like. I hope I made myself clear.”
She didn’t expect an answer, but Miranda wanted it to be over, wanted to make sure it was over. “Yes, yes you did,” she panted, her voice trembling.
“How ironic, that Shepard suggested I should try to talk to you and find out what happened that changed your mind about him.” Liara laughed. “I was just too happy to oblige. Sadly, I will have to tell him that you crudely brushed me off… which wouldn’t be a complete lie, of course.” Another laugh. “I will be very understanding of course, and won’t take it to heart.”
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“He told me you will get off before you reach Earth. That’s smart. Until then, we will make sure he will not change his mind. I know we agree on this one, right?”
“Yes, right,” Miranda whispered, defeated. She couldn’t fight this any more. She would do and say anything that would get her out of here without more pain.
“Good,” she felt the asari tussle her hair. “Appearances need to be kept, though. No hidden signals, no tricks, no secret messages. It will be business as usual with the XO until you disappear.” Liara paused until she got a nod and a mumble from Miranda. “You will receive instructions on your terminal. Remember. I see everything.”
“Yes. I understand.” She lifted her head and looked up at Liara. “Can I- can I keep in touch with Oriana?”
Liara frowned, like Miranda was an annoying child.
“I guess you can. But she will be monitored, too.”
“She-she will be safe? You promise?”
There was a frustrated sigh, the asari obviously bored with the conversation now.
“Yeah, yeah. Get yourself cleaned up and go back to the Normandy.”
Miranda sniffed, wiping her face dry and slowly she stood up on trembling legs. Liara was already in the living room, sitting down before a terminal, pouring herself another glass of wine. Miranda just stared ahead as she limped across the living room, picking up her discarded clothing slowly on the way to the bathroom.
The shower helped a little, at least she looked decent after it, but inside she felt broken. She still felt that… thing inside her, she had to walk carefully and it was an effort to keep all expression from her face. She didn’t dare to let go under the water and make Liara’s victory even greater by throwing up or sobbing in the shower. She just wanted to get out as fast as possible.
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A/N: End of chapter one. I want the record to show that this time it wasn’t my idea to make Liara into such an evil bitch. It came with the prompt.
(Sorry for the strapon technobabble. I needed it to make sense in my mind.)
Also, the batarian anatomy idea was lifted from the alien genitalia discussion here:
http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6066.html?thread=27533490&#t27533490
Off to chapter two after I regain some of my humanity.
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There is one thing I don't understand, though. Why didn't you post this on the newest page? Your story is way too good to get lost in the sea of prompts.
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As for your question, I can answer to almost everything I wrote about, but I have no answer for that one. Never crossed my mind to post it at the last page within the same part. Although that would explain the low rate of comments on this and previous fills. I'm not even sure what's the policy on that (e.g.: if it's considered spamming)
But now that you are here, a caveat:
I realized this chapter covers your original prompt. There is the option of writing a few more paragraphs about Miranda disappearing off into the unknown and Liara ending up in Shepard's arms and consoling him while smiling an evil smile into the camera. Then fade to black, end of story.
My question is this: Just out of curiousity, how satisfactory would that be? Wouldn't you wanna know what happens to them next?
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But you are right, at this point I'm really curious how you want to continue the story, especially if you throw Jack into the mix and I want to see those scenes from the end that you mentioned.
Also, I read the rules and hints and I can't see why it would be considered spamming, but we'll see.
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