Chapter 1 - Blueberry Pie (Updated)

Note: If not made clear by the story itself, this takes place during the events of Mass Effect 2, briefly before the suicide mission


Grunt paced back and forth aboard the deck of the portside cargo hold of the SSV Normandy SR2. Each time he reached the ends of the room, he headbutted the wall in frustration. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he knew one thing was certain: he needed to fuck! Problem was, there weren’t any normal options available to him; not exactly. 

The Genophage had made breeding for the krogan race impossible. This was why Warlord Okeer had created him; a tank-bred, free from the effects of the viral plague that kept his race numbers so limited. 

So, given that female krogan weren’t around as often anymore, thus laying with a member of his own race was highly unlikely. Doing his best to ignore the raging hard-on that pulsed below his armor, he pondered over his current possible...releases.

There was the Cerberus commander, Miranda Lawson. 

Genetically modified to be “perfect”. Grunt wondered if that perfection covered being spread open by a large, raging krogan cock... 

The problem with possibly choosing her, though, was that Shepard, Grunt’s commander, had clearly shown an interest in her. So, if he were to “claim” her, it might cause problems in the future.

Then, there was the Quarian. Tali’Zorah vas… whatever she went by now. It changed after some court shenanigans her people brought about. Nice, wide hips, perfect for getting pounded. The issue there was the quarian’s health. Those technical fuckers could barely exist out of their suits, so callously tearing her open could make her sick, or possibly die from sudden exposure. Not something he’d care to explain to the rest of the crew.

The Thief, Kasumi Goto - she was more into that box of hers, hanging out with her imaginary boyfriend; she likely wouldn’t be down for a quick shag.

Kelly Chambers, the assistant...secretary...psychologist...person, would probably rather talk to him about his troubles, than actually doing something about them.

There was the Doctor, Chakwas…nah, too old. He’d probably break her hip within one thrust.

Jack, the crazy biotic girl, was an option Grunt had actually considered a possibility. She was a wild one, and had probably fucked things up and down the entire length of the species spectrum. 
The only thing holding him back there, though, was that Jack liked to talk about her sexual conquests. A lot. And if Grunt somehow...underperformed, she’d tell the WHOLE Galaxy, about the “little” krogan, who couldn’t even satisfy a single human.

That left - at least to what his horny-addled, sex-driven mind considered - one last option...the Justicar, Samara. She was old, even by Asari standards, so experience wasn’t a concern there. Very soft-spoken, so wouldn’t go running her mouth off about the event. The challenge was how to convince her. 

Doing it by force was DEFINITELY not an option. Unlike Wrex, Grunt was not a biotic, so he couldn’t expect to contain her power. 
He’d have to do it with words - something the krogan weren’t exactly known for. There were songs sung of their battles, true, but Grunt had only just become ingrained within one clan.

He’d have to think on his feet, then - his brimming libido could be restrained no longer. The determined krogan stomped out of his room, heading for the elevator.



The Justicar Samara could be found doing the same thing she always did, when aboard the Normandy - meditating. She sat cross-legged, on the pristine floor of the Level 2 Observation Room. By herself, as usual. A wide, panoramic window was all that stood between her, and the vast emptiness of space.

For the first time in centuries, she savoured the taste of freedom, having finally put an end to her daughter, Morinth. She had been known, in Asari culture, as an “Ardat-Yakshi”; an asari that killed their mates whenever they melded. Asari of this kind were typically placed in monasteries, living their lives away from a society they would harm. While her other daughters, Rila and Falere, had adjusted to their new lives, Morinth had refused and chose to run away, becoming a killer.

With the aid of Commander Shepard, Omega was where Morinth had met her fate. Although it saddened her to have to execute her own flesh and blood, the Code dictated it. Personal feelings had to be put aside.

Her meditations were interrupted, as she heard a series of heavy stomps approaching the door. Such a sound could only come from...

“Grunt. This is a pleasant surprise. I don’t think you’ve ever visited me before. Or any of our allies, for that matter,” she greeted, not moving from her spot; not even opening her eyes.

“Yeah, well...you see, I...umm...wanted you to...uhh...hear a song from my culture,” the young krogan replied; the nerves in his voice blatantly obvious.

“That sounds pleasant. I haven’t been regaled by krogan songs since my young mercenary days. Please, continue...” she stated, still perfectly in place.

Grunt nodded, fiddling with his omni-tool to find the file he’d acquired from azurefics.net

“Ahem… ‘He laid his eyes upon her, a warrior on the battlefield. Her skin, blue like the raging sea, defended the weak with her majestic shield. Her biotics, powerful, her moves decisive. She tore through the enemy; her strikes were massive. Her bosom was bountiful, her rear delectable, to put it simply: that asari was...beautiful’...” he finished.

“That sounded...lovely. Though I admit, the last part seemed a tad...intimate. Did you mean to read me a story about a krogan that admired an asari? Should I take intrigue in hearing this?” she inquired, smiling slyly.

“I...don’t know what you’re getting at...,” the krogan replied; the Justicar sensed him holding something back. 

“Grunt... if there is something you wish to ask of me...I would request you be more revealing with--,” Samara began.

“FINE! I NEED TO FUCK! OKAY!? A GOOD FUCKING FUCK! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR!?” he yelled.

This was what ultimately caught the justicar off-guard, driving her to blink, rise and spin round, facing her addresser. Now that she laid eyes on him, she could tell: something was...off with the tank-bred, somehow; he stood before her, shaking as if in heat of fever. 

“I...I don’t know how to explain it, but...ever since the Rite on Tuchanka, I've been feeling...strange; like I’m going to lose my mind. And if this continues, by the time we reach the Collectors, I’m going to be of no help at all!”

The Justicar scanned his face. “And you have decided that your best chance of an…”outlet”...was I?” she inquired, incredulously, but partially intrigued.

“I’ve weighed my options; you’re the most likely one not to talk about this...after the fact. You don’t care about anything besides your Code, so...I figured you’d just...let this one slide…,” he finished, gazing pleadingly across at her.

Were any other woman approached by an amorous, fuck-hungry krogan, they’d have outright rejected him - or, at the least, began fleeing, screaming for help. Samara, however, did not express herself in such ways...she contemplated her situation. Grunt appeared to be truthful; his body language certainly spoke volumes. And if this uneasiness did carry over to the attack on the Collector base, he would most certainly become a liability. She recited the numerous sutras of the Code in her head, seeking a clear answer, before realizing…she already had one. Her initial doubts were superseded by the “Third Oath of Subsumation” she had sworn to Commander Shepard. 

The question now stood: did this situation warrant an action that would serve Shepard’s goals?

Working with Cerberus, underneath Shepard, had certainly been an...interesting affair for her. But this…she wouldn’t be honest with herself to admit she wasn’t taken aback by this; On the one hand, it was an incredulous proposal - indecent, improper. But on the other...she was partially flattered by his reasoning and initial choice in her. How flattered in particular, well, that depended on one thing...  

She looked on at him for a moment, scanning his desperate, hungry gaze.

Was this really happening? To her? It had been so long since the last time she’d done this. And with a Krogan, no less! If the stories were true, then she truly had a…”large” dilemma on her hands. She gazed down to his bulging groin in slight interest. The “perfect” Krogan...how perfect, she wondered...

She closed the distance between them, scanning his large eyes.

“I will consent to your indecent proposal, Krogan”, she began, locking onto his gaze, “but I will also have you know…” She reached around to the side of his head, and whispered, “...there are…”other” things I do care about...than simply my Code…” She ran her slim fingers across his belt. 

She felt him shiver & nod in agreement

“Well...what’s the worst that could happen…?” she thought to herself

“EDI?” she lightly called out.

“Yes, Samara?” replied the AI’s voice through the room’s internal speakers. 

“If you would, please restrict further access to this room, and activate any soundproofing measures it may have. And if you could also cease all monitoring functions of this space, for...a brief period of time, that would be...satisfactory.” She began to smile once more.

“Very well. How long do you wish to maintain this status for?”

Samara glanced at Grunt, who now visibly shook, as if ready to explode.

“I would wager…”, she slowly ran her eyes over the salivating creature before her, “...a few hours, if not several...”


Samara crawled down onto her knees, and began to slowly fiddle with the armor pieces that covered the large, fit, swole krogan’s lower region. 

This was proving to be quite the...strenuous task already…

“Grunt, my dear…”, she spoke softly, attempting to calm not only her companion, but herself, “...you need to contain yourself. I cannot begin to…”relieve” you, if I am unable to get to the stem of your frustrations...,”

“I...will try...,” he replied in strain, attempting to slow his heavy breathing. 

His body began to cease shaking in heat, and Samara was finally able to release his--

“By the...Goddess...” she exclaimed, Grunt’s massive member spilling out into her soft hands. Samara had enjoyed many partners in her youth, but never one quite so...well-armed... 

Grunt’s impressive cock throbbed heavily in her warm grasp; pulsing, to the rhythm of Grunt’s now rising heartbeat; each pulse sending light little “jumps” to the rather imposing appendage.

Apprehensive, yet still very curious, she lifted the veined, sinewy member up backwards...and nearly gasped at the sight below. Four krogan testicles hung heavy & full between his legs; each one larger than her own fist. She ran a finger lightly over each one. They shivered under her warm touch.

Fresh fruit; ripe for the plucking...just one of those monstrous things held enough quantity to fill her womb. She silently pondered...just how many times would it take...to completely fill her up…

Licking the saliva from the corners of her mouth, she gazed up at him again; her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

She swallowed down the thick lump in her throat, before speaking.

“My, my...Warlord Okeer certainly blessed you with...large advantages in your genetics...”

Grunt snorted. “Your mouth speaks kind words, Justicar...but right now, I’d like it to be doing something other than talking...” he growled, trying for both politeness and impatience. 

She bowed her head, attempting to hide the heat now present in her face as well. Was she having second doubts? Was this fear she now felt...or unbridled excitement?

“Right...” she answered dreamily, before clearing her throat, “Very well, then...l-let’s - ahem - let us begin...” Slowly, she inched her head closer to his magnificent member, her heated breath causing it to rise further.

She began with her tongue. The initial taste as she made contact took her back; she had not been this intimate since bearing her third daughter, many, many star cycles ago. 

But she adapted quickly, moving her soft, moist appendage nimbly up and down his lengthy shaft, its great weight requiring her to use both hands to keep it steady.

Grunt began to groan softly, towering above her. “So good...yes...keep going…” he muttered, his eyes shut and mouth open.

She continued, at his behest; licking faster now, attempting to lubricate the entirety of his excitable member; from the wide girth of his slightly-ribbed head, to the muscled base of his thick stem. The four testes began to shiver; preparing for the accumulation, and then glorious release, of all the krogan’s delicious, thick & heavy…

Samara shook her head, attempting to clear it...all of the krogan’s juices, readying it for the process that resulted in their warm, musky, creamy release.  

Grunt continued to groan; louder now, his hands balled into fists, as Samara handled his veined, throbbing cock, better than a Presidium whore. His quick rationale had proven correct; he relaxed, savouring in his reward.

“Justicar...Samara…” he panted, opening his eyes and gazing down at the slim, blue form bobbing between his legs, “...could you...I wonder...could you fit it entirely...inside your mouth?” he smiled weakly.

She returned his expression, and gave the now-moist & shimmering cock three small strokes, luxuriating in both its & Grunt’s rapid response.

Her eyes flickered up at him for a moment...gazing at his anticipated expression once more…

It was now or never...
Samara pulled her gaze back down to the expectant cock, licking her full lips well. 

She opened her jaw as wide as she could, shutting her eyes, and leaned forward...further...further...until she completely enveloped the vibrating head of his supple, well-stiffened member in her mouth. 

The heat stifled her - Grunt hadn’t been lying, she now realised. He was truly ready to burst at his seams. Growing more confident the further in he entered, she shifted her position, angling herself to allow more of his...substantial hardware inside of her, savouring the salty-sweet taste of his skin. 

She gagged briefly, as he offered a slight thrust. The Justicar, on her knees before the mighty krogan tank-bred, steadily inched more and more of him inside of her tight, moist hole. She pushed the excess saliva forward, further moistening his hardening cock, and began slowly oscillating her head. Her hands let off a blue glow. The expert biotic suppressed her gag reflex, forcing the massive cock deeper and deeper and deeper down inside her tightening throat, until finally…

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” Grunt groaned out, doing little to hide the amazement & pleasure across his face, as Samara made full-contact with his groin. It felt good...very good…

She opened her eyes, and spied a gaze at his contorting face…
It was good...but she could also tell...it wasn’t enough for him. Not yet. 

Not wanting to disappoint the desperate krogan - or fail her Commander - she gently grasped one of his hands, placing it on the back of her head. Now, lightly apply pressure… she mentally instructed him. She gazed up, attempting to determine if he understood her motion. Grunt stared down at her, grinning deviously.  

She knew what was about to happen, but was too slow to stop it.

With one swift stroke, the raging krogan enveloped nearly her entire skull in a single hand, slamming his massive self even further down into her. Samara gagged audibly; the sound strenuous, yet delicious to the krogan’s ears. A large heap of saliva spilled out of her fully-filled mouth, leaking onto his cock and dribbling down her chin, beginning to pool on the floor below.
 
The krogan violently forced her back and forth along his lengthy shaft, his great, thick slab of meat ravishing her throat deeper each time it entered. He couldn’t contain himself; her soft tonsils rubbed and squeezed his swelling head, edging pre-cum to begin flowing out of it. Her pillow lips were wrapped tightly around the pounding monstrosity; gently massaging forward the rising cum, beckoning it to rise and rise…

Her tongue, wedged beneath the stiffening shaft, continuously rubbed against the krogan’s sensitive spot, just beneath the tip - a spot all males possessed, Samara now realised.

Eyes red and watering, down on her knees, body covered in her own spit and pre-cum, nostrils pushed up so tightly, they nearly closed, leaving her aching for air - Samara must have looked a sight! 

She gazed up at her defiler pleadingly, willing him to stop, slow, drive not too deep inside of her...but deep down...she knew she was helpless…

Remember your oath… she repeated to herself, as even her suppressed gag reflex began to grow strained

Remember...your oath…

She tightened her fists, and shut her eyes, as the once tranquil Observation Room now filled with the heavy grunts of the climaxing krogan, and the wet, sloshing, gulping moans of his newest fuck-toy. 

Samara soon began to grow aware of something… 

There, hiding in the back of her mind…

A sensation of pleasure...one she had not touched or felt since...too long a time…

She was beginning to enjoy this, she realised. Being used; being FUCKED and used, like nothing more than a cheap, metallic Fuck-bot. She swallowed the latest release of pre-cum, and became aware of her eyes shooting up to her sweating forehead.

And as the lurid act continued, seemingly without end, Samara began to feel something inside her body she hadn’t felt in centuries.

She felt her inner-thighs growing wet.

Such a lewd & shameful act - it began to awaken something deep inside her. Something...carnal; something...primal. A hunger, like no other, that could only be sated with one thing…

Who knew, all it took was a young Krogan’s perfectly-bred cock deep inside her to unlock this feeling of ecstasy again. 

“Goddess...what is happening to me?” she wondered. But all thoughts were silenced, as she began to feel it. The striations of his slobbered-up cock vibrating through her jaw.

He was close. Very close. And he knew it. 

She began pushing him away, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he increased his speed. Surely he didn’t intend to - no... No! Not inside her! She pushed harder, but once again, was too slow to act.

Throwing all disregard for her aside, Grunt buried the pale blue head inside his massive hands, shoving himself down further into her throat than any cock had ever travelled. 

He unleashed a mighty roar, echoing throughout the empty room, as a massive load began spewing from his pumping shaft. It poured its thick, creamy, sticky liquid deep inside of her; deep enough that she needn’t even swallow; a pipeline of smooth flesh delivering the disgusting, hot cum straight into her shivering throat.

It filled up her pipes, drowned her squashed tongue, and poured out of her mouth, streaming down her face; staining her arms, her legs, her clothes…nearly the entire patch of floor beneath them was covered in white.

The pair remained frozen in place for a long while, as Grunt pushed the last of his seed out into her, before finally sighing, easily releasing his now-limp shaft from her mouth. 

It exited with an audible ‘Pop!’ - and the exhausted krogan fell backwards, a loud, wet thump sounding as he hit the sodden floor. 

Samara, on the other hand, immediately keeled over, gasping for air, as various quantities of still-warm cum began resurfacing from out of her raw throat. She inhaled and gasped for air; each time, exhaling more and more milky, sticky seed into the already wide puddle before her, further staining the once-pristine room.

Panting and rasping for breath, slowly, she turned her gaze upwards, and what she saw...took her by surprise yet again.

Grunt’s cock, which had previously been as limp as a hose without water, was beginning to stiffen up once more. She failed to hide the surprise in her face as she beheld the sight of that magnificent, strobing...“creature” becoming stiff & hard for her once more...

In only a moment, it stood at attention for her; ready & waiting to deposit a second load of warm, salty-sweet breeding fluid into her. She should’ve guessed that only once wouldn't be enough to satisfy a Krogan - especially one newly-initiated to a Clan. She blushed; she had hoped Grunt’s inexperience would've made things...simpler.

She tightened her fist, and closed her eyes, cum still dripping from her lips
But then, she remembered, she was a Justicar. And no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice - a Justicar got the job done.

She smiled a condescending smile, slowly rising up. 

“It is clear now...this is going to take several efforts on my part,” she spoke, eyes still closed, a hand gently wiping away the remaining residue beneath her bruised lips. Her hands glowed blue again, raising the hefty krogan off the ground slightly, positioning him squarely against the wall. 

With Grunt - and his rising, cum-stained rod - in place, she proceeded towards him, spinning around, situating the throbbing member inside the indent of her scarlet-clad ass. 

Using her biotics to hold him steadily in place, she began her motions once again, raising her rump...slowly up and down...all along the entire length of his sticky probe shaft, taking her time to linger at his sensitive tip... 

As she moved sensuously...up...and down...she felt his stiffness levels rapidly increase against the softness of her cheeks.
She gazed at him over her shoulder, offering another sly smile, at the grimace of pleasure painted on his face. 

Before she could ask how good it felt - her tight ass softly gripping his thick meat dish through her suit - she felt his even meatier hand envelope her again. It encompassed nearly the full amount of her slim waist, and with little effort, elevated her entirely off the ground. 

She felt the second hand grasp her rear end, attempting to seize a proper grip. In one swift motion, the Justicar felt her skintight outfit tearing open, the sudden rush of cool air making her gasp, exposing her dripping-wet “azure” to the salivating krogan below.

As he positioned himself delicately between her trembling legs, she mentally prayed to herself.

“Goddess, give me the strength...to endure this...”

There was no hesitation; no forethought, no logical mind behind it, as he proceeded to shove every last inch of this throbbing, steel-shafted ramrod deep inside of her, spreading her body wide with its tip alone. 

A loud, wild moan echoed out of Samara’s throat, as Grunt’s member shot through her entrance, igniting every nerve in her lower region, lightning her neurons up like supernovas. 

Its heat inside her was tremendous - she was surprised he didn't immediately unload himself within her again. Now she knew what kind of lover he was: no preparation, no time-wasting on slow, easy penetrations - Grunt got right down to business. 

“Formidable...but also, admirable...” she managed to think, before he thrusted into her again, eliciting a second moan; this one, more guttural and raw. Like an animal. 

She felt both her lips quiver as he moved his hips around, rubbing against her hot, wet insides, which seemed to grow only tighter around his cylindrical pillaging staff, the further in he shoved.

Grunt filled her almost instantly. His movements shook her to the core, causing her to moan louder and louder with every push inwards; she’d never believed she could make such sounds...

She placed a hand over the bulge in her belly; round and swole, as if she were with child again.

“God...damn…” the beastly Krogan heaved behind her; his strong, hot breath pickling the hairs on her neck, “...hard to believe…you popped out...three kids out of this thing. You’re still...so damn tight.” Grunt shifted her around again, before using his hips to bounce her up and down his mighty pillar.

“Grunt...ah...if you could...oh...please refrain...from such comments...hah,” she pleaded, light moans punctuating her breathy words.

“Fine. But it ain’t gonna help...me finish faster.” He leaned in close, and whispered into her ear. “How about you...talk dirty to me, then? I’m sure you’ve said some...real nasty things in your lifetime…”

“That’s...oh!...so...ah!...absurd. What could...possibly make you...mmm...think that...ahhh?”

“Hehehe…” he chuckled, derisively, completely in control. “Why don’t you sneak a peek down, and look at yourself. You’re moving on your own.”

Wide-eyed, Samara gazed down to discover that, indeed, her own body was gyrating, nearly perfectly in rhythm with Grunt’s hulking physique. She was driving her tight, blue ass and stretched-apart “azure” down as hard as she could, garnering as much pleasure as possible out of riding the prime piece of beef that penetrated her body.

“By the Goddes-- AHH,” she cried out once more, cut off by Grunt’s sudden rise to his feet, forcing her body to sink even lower onto his reaming cock. 

“Come on...Justicar…” he panted, excitement and hunger gleaming in his eyes, “...let yourself go, just like me. Bring back all those carnal desires from your maiden years…”

Samara stared down at him, dumbfounded in lust, her bulbous chest bouncing up and down, at his motions. 

“DO IT,” the krogan yelled.

And as his virulent thrusts began to kiss the entrance to her womb, Samara’s eyes went black. Memories began flooding back to her, memories she’d long since forgotten...or, perhaps, suppressed. Flashes of flings with fellow mercenaries, wild romps with asari poledancers; even a risque wager to fuck a varren, doggystyle. Those, and several dozen other encounters over the multitude of years, reminded her of what she’d been before her children, before the Code. What she truly was….

Harder….

“What was that?” Grunt inquired.

“I said...harder. HARDER! FUCK ME HARDER, YOU WORTHLESS PILE OF VARREN MEAT! HARDER!,” screamed the Justicar in pleasure. 

The krogan acquiesced, increasing the ferocity of his strokes, pounding into the door to her womb, demanding entry for his grandiose sperm.

“Do it, Grunt! Fucking POUND me into OBLIVION! Pour EVERY LAST DROP of your DISGUSTING SEED inside of me! I want to be able to TASTE IT in my FUCKING MOUTH!,” she commanded, now eagerly using her hips to egg him on.

“If that’s what you want. Tell that...old babymaker of yours...to open wide!” he yelled, delivering a final titanic thrust upwards.

All at once, his motion switched gears, doubling in speed & ferocity. 
His raised-tip grazed the dripping insides of her overflowing canal, drawing the very breath from her lips. It squeezed down onto him; tighter and tighter and tighter, until it death-gripped the relentless cock, drawing it in further and further, begging it to cum inside her.

Samara couldn’t think. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t breathe. She could only feel…

And what she felt next, set her mind on fire.

Samara’s hyper-sensitive body felt it all. The head of his cock bursting into her womb, the torrent of semen that instantly flooded her egg chambers.

The sensation of her tightening cunt, shaking in pleasure, utterly filled to the brim with his warm cum, was overwhelming; she felt herself shiver in his steel grasp, delighting in her first orgasm in centuries.

Grunt, himself, couldn’t be feeling any better. His pent up rage, balled up frustrations, his need to release his seed, and appetite for a good fucking, had all finally been sated. Deliciously so… 

However...a new feeling began to grow inside...

Now that he’d had a taste of sexual dominance and satisfaction...he wanted more. Fuck the excuses, fuck the logic - and fuck the species-difference - he’d make any woman his own; bending them any way to his will...and his glorious, genetically-perfect cock.

As Samara came down from her orgasmic high, she turned, and gazed over her shoulder at her oppressor, her invader, her fuck-mate, her new personal plaything, and watched in sheer amazement as, yet again, his incredible manhood stiffened up...all for her…

Grunt smiled down widely, delighting at the sight of his seed seeping out of her holes; they quivered, lightly shimmering from sweat. They called to him, beckoning him forwards…

They begged for more...

And Samara - weak from fatigue, heavily spent - and spent into - freshly invaded, and probably bruised - she simply smiled back...

Together, they took up their positions once more, as none but the stars looked on at the continuing, delicious filth within...

It was going to be a long...long night...

____________

Hope ya'll enjoy the new digs :)
