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"Let me take the shot, Shepard! He's a damned coward!"

"Do it."

"Thank you, Commander."

John had fucked up. Again.

"John! You... you just _ let _ Garrus shoot him?!"

"Yep."

"But... what about second chances? What about _ mercy _!?"

"What about it?"

"Fist, Rana Thanoptis, Elnora, Helena Blake? Ring any bells? You showed them mercy! Why not Sidonis?"

"He deserved it."

"And so did all the others! But you let _ them _ go! This... this isn't like you, John. You haven't been the same since you started talking to that short, tattooed bosh-!"

"You're adorable when you're angry. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"John! Let go!"

He was losing himself. No other way to explain it. No other way to justify why he had pinned Tali to the elevator wall on the way down to engineering.

"John, please!"

"You still have that suit application, Tal? What was it? Nerve-Stim pro? I was hoping we could have some more fun."

"John-!"

"There we go. Now let's just set it to max-sensitivity..."

John, no- oooooh, _ keelah _..."

She didn't fight as much as last time, John had noted as his quarian's small hands groped his muscles in response to his ministrations, eager to touch him, to feel him. They way Tali had melted into his arms, how she had clung to his body told John all he needed to know.

"John... don't..." she had panted, breathlessly.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Don't..."

"Don't what?"

"Don't stop... keelah, _ don't stop _!"

"You like that, Tal? You like the way I touch you there?"

"Keelah, yes! I love it!"

She came hard right when the elevator doors slid open, squirming against his hand that was pressed in between her legs. Thankfully no one was waiting for the elevator at the time. Tali still hit him though, a hard slap right across John's face after he released her. Though the extra sway in her hips as she stormed back to engineering did not go unnoticed.

John remembered retiring to his room for the night, collapsing onto his bed after finally succumbing to exhaustion. Then, right on cue, Jack, the queen of corruption, showed up, ready to warp his mind once more.

Something was different this time, however, as the expression Jack carried on her face was not one of mischief, but one of disappointment.

"You let Garrus shoot his buddy." It wasn't a question, so much as a confirmation.

John nodded once, half asleep.

Jack pursed her lips, letting that sink in.

"Go to sleep. We have things to do tomorrow." She ordered finally, before turning on her boot heels and leaving his room just as quickly as she entered it.

John obliged her happily.

That was yesterday, already feeling like a lifetime ago. John still remembered the question he woke up to in the morning, courtesy of Jack and her intrusive ways.

"Have you ever had a batarian woman before?"

He should have lied. Right then and there, he should have just lied and said "yes". That would have saved him a whole mess of trouble. If he had just said yes, then Jack would've left him alone.

Nope. Jack would've asked for details. She would've found out you were lying, man. You're a shitty liar, you know that.

Shut up.

John cursed himself silently as he sat on the large, surprisingly comfortable couch, right in the center of the lavishly decorated lobby.

For a brothel this place isn't too bad, John thought to himself as his eyes roamed across the ceiling, taking in the vast, intricate mural patterns and admiring the enormous, glass chandelier.

The human commander's admiration of the building's decorum also served an alternate purpose: keeping him from gaping at the abundance of half naked men and women around him.

The establishment, a very high-class brothel in the middle of down town Nos Astra, was called "Alestria's Azure", which was, when one thought about it, about as subtle as naming your brothel, "My Pussy".

The place was more than fully staffed, from the looks of things. "Employees" of nearly every race and gender mingled with clients, flashing them warm, inviting smiles and giving them certain "looks" with their eyes. "Looks" that wordlessly promised things that most people would be afraid to request of even their most trusted of lovers.

Eventually, despite himself, John found his eyes wandering, drinking in the sights of the female employees.

First was an asari, a petite delicate looking creature. The blue siren sat upon a large cushion not far from where John was seated, chatting amicably with fine dressed human male. From the looks of it, she had the man's full attention. How could she not? Small, perky breasts stood proudly upon her chest, covered by nothing and just waiting to be cupped and felt. Shapely legs were spread out beneath her, allowing the beauty to keep her balance on the cushion. Her deep blue skin was adorned with intricate, white tattoos that travelled all across her stunning body, making her seems like some masterful work of art.

Next was a human woman, whose body was shapely enough to draw Miranda's jealousy. She was one all fours giving John a very good view of her sumptuous behind, the curvature of her buttocks sparking something within the Commander. Her large, milky breasts heaved and swayed with each movement of her body, hypnotizing many, men and woman alike. John could not see the woman's face, only her wild mane of golden hair. He didn't mind, however, as the equally curvaceous drell female the human woman was servicing with her mouth was not so bad on the eyes either.

And finally, there was, much to John's surprise, a turian woman capturing his attention. The avian female alien was an amazon, to put it simply, almost as tall as Shepard himself. Her body lacked the many plates that adorned the males of her species, allowing the human to get a good look at her unprotected skin. She was a pale, brown color, a rare sight among her silver and grey colored species. No breasts, but those were not needed to look attractive or beautiful. Instead she had hips. Great hips in John's opinion. An opinion Garrus would have most likely shared, had he been present at the time.

John eventually shook himself from his observations, forcing his mind back to the reality of the situation he was currently in.

He, a Council Spectre and Alliance war hero, was in a brothel of all places, accompanied by a notorious, tattooed convict who had inexplicably left him by his lonesome to go find him a, in her words, "nice batarian girl to fuck into next week".

John felt anxious, a rarity for his person. If he were to be caught here by some intrusive paparazzi, his reputation as a role model would be tarnished beyond recovery.

And your rep as a badass and lady killer, solidified and ensured.

_ Shut up! _

The human commander did not know why he didn't just make a sprint for the door.

But maybe he did.

Maybe, deep down, in the darkest parts of his mind, John wanted this.

You _ do _ want this. Or I do, at least. But, then again, I'm part of you.

A part of me I wish _ didn't exist. _

Sticks and stones, bro.

Shut. Up.

What happened next when by in a blur.

Jack returned with an asari in tow, both holding mischievous looks on their faces. The asari was breathtakingly beautiful, her impossibly soft looking skin a lovely shade of light blue. Her breasts were rather large and seemed to defy gravity. She was wearing a white robe that hugged her body and seemed to be made of a thin, silky material. John guessed that the asari was a matriarch, judging from her similarities to Samara's and Benezia's figures.

The asari was the brothel's Madam as John discovered from Jack's introduction. From the way the two women interacted, John guessed that there was a bit of history between them, but the human marine asked nothing of it.

Together, the two ladies led John away from the lobby full of distractions and set him in a large, equally decorated room. The room had a pinkish-orange hue to it, created by the velvety banners draped across the bed and walls and the few hanging down from the ceiling. The whole room showed that this brothel was of the highest class and spared no expense for customer comfort. How Jack could afford such a place was beyond John.

Pffft. She's probably using _ my _ money.

Quit whining. It's a brothel. And it's _ Cerberus' _ money anyway.

Money they gave to _ me _.

The two women left soon after John settled in, telling him that, "she'd be right in". By "she", the Commander assumed they meant the batarian he was supposed to "fuck into next week". The human grimaced, thought not at the idea of having sex with a batarian, but of making a fool of himself. Batarians and humans never got along, and if they ever got a batarian girl to agree to this, she probably just be doing for much needed cash. She'd just think he was some rich prick with exotic tastes and want it over as quickly as possible. Much to John's chagrin, he was anxious again.

John solved this problem by pulling a bottle of thessian liquor out of the nearby mini-fridge, a luxury he lacked in the lobby, and quickly downed a couple of gulps. It burned going down his throat, but ultimately did its job. A few moments later, and the anxiety quickly subsided, replaced by pleasurable buzzing within his head.

A while later, Jack and the asari Madam returned with a third woman in tow. The third woman was a batarian, most likely the one Jack had been referring to. If John were to be completely honest, he'd have to say that, for a four-eyed alien, the batarian female was actually pretty attractive.

She did not possess the zero-fat body that many of the other employees had, but Shepard felt it added to her natural beauty. Large breasts, barely concealed by her pure white cloth wrap that seemed like an ancient asari robe, swayed and heaved with each step and breath the woman took, captivating the human commander. Those combined with a shapely pair of hips and legs that went on forever, had Shepard hypnotized.

She did not have the neck-chin or cheek flaps that seemed to plague the faces of the males of her species, much to John's relief. Instead, her face was almost smooth, save for the bumps across her forehead that extended to her scalp.

Curiously, the batarian female did not seem disgusted by John's presence like most batarians the human had met. No, this one seemed... excited, happy even.

"Phema, here..." The Madam began, slowly circling the four-eyed alien until she was behind her, "...Is one of my best girls. Used to be part of the Hegemony slave caste. They had her sent to Torfan, along with many others, to be used as 'pleasure girls'. The Alliance raid in 2178 freed her."

From a slave to a prostitute. What a nice upgrade..., John thought with a scowl. The Madam picked up on the Commander's change of mood and quickly spoke up again.

"To make things clear, Commander, Phema's here because she wants to be. Isn't that right, darling?"

The batarian woman nodded quickly, bashfully averting eye contact with John, but not before giving the strapping human male a once over, appreciating the view. She then gave a squeak in surprise as Jack planted a hand on one of her butt cheeks, groping her through the thin, robe-like apparel. Jack's other hand worked its way to Phema's ample chest, slipping into the low cut opening of the batarian's robe. A breast found itself nestled firmly in Jack's palm. The tattooed woman's mouth met the batarian's neck, the human's tongue swiping over her captive's sensitive skin as both hands gave a firm squeeze, drawing a quiet gasp from the alien female. John's arousal spiked at the sight.

Finally, Jack pulled away, sauntering over to the stunned marine.

"Our little friend here," Jack picked up from where the Madam left off, "has a fetish that made her a perfect candidate for, what was it that I said? 'Fuck into next week'?"

"She never forgot what the humans did for her, Commander." The Madam added, who had taken a seat on a chair in the far corner of the room. "She services humans almost exclusively. Both genders. Whenever an Alliance ship docks in Nos Astra for shore leave, little Phema here treats it like an all-you-can-fuck human buffet."

"She was practically bouncing with joy when we told her who you were. Apparently, she has a bit of a 'thing' for heroes." Jack interrupted, her mouth up next to John's ear, the Commander able to feel her hot breath on his skin. Unsurprisingly, John's pants now felt uncomfortably tighter, his hardening length trying to escape the confines in which they were imprisoned.

John's eyes went from Jack to the alien woman, the Commander now smirking. The marine knew he had many female fans but he would always try to be humble about it. However, his recent "interactions" with Jack had started to make him appreciate the attention more openly.

The Commander stepped forward, out of Jack's light hold, right up to Phema, to the point where she could feel the warmth radiating off of his toned body, even through his civilian clothing. The batarian shuddered at the feeling, her excitement building and building.

"Is that so?" The human rumbled, taking a hold of one of Phema's hands, sending shivers down the woman's spine.

Phema looked up, meeting the human's gaze with both pairs of eyes, all four black orbs filled with lust. Her eyes then dropped down to the human's broad chest, the batarian's tongue gliding over her lips as she placed her free hand flush against John's abdomen, feeling him up.

"Commander Shepard." Phema stated, in a surprisingly smooth, feminine voice, a stark contrast to the males of her species.

"The Lion of Elysium. Hero of the Citadel. The Best Humanity has to Offer." The batarian mused, continuing the list. Her hand dropped down further, cupping his length through his pants, giving him a few soft rubs with a giggle. "And I have him all to myself."

"Not entirely." Jack called from across the room, sitting in the Madam's lap as the asari used her mouth to stimulate the convict's modest bust. "But I think I -ngh- can distract myself for a while you two lovebirds have some fun- fuck!"

Turning his attention back to the batarian groping him through his pants, John found Phema giving him a rather mischievous smirk. Before he could utter a single word, the batarian was quickly trying to force the human out of his Alliance shirt, clawing at the cheap piece of cloth as if it were an annoying obstacle. Soon enough, the alien female had the shirt up, over the human's head and discarded it, tossing it aside.

With nothing hiding John's body from her now, the batarian pawed at him, running her hands over his many muscles as she pressed her lips to his. Surprised at first, John eventually returned to the kiss, even allowing the woman's tongue entrance into his mouth. She tasted different, felt different than any human he had been with before. It was jarring at first, but not at all unpleasant. Unlike the sweet, almost honey-like flavor of his fellow humans, the batarian female was muskier, holding a deeper, stronger taste and scent that somehow remained feminine.

A moment later and John was now on his back, Phema straddling him. She had guided the pair over to the bed while her rather strong kiss had kept John distracted.

She certainly wastes no time.

Finally, Phema broke the kiss, sitting up on John's lap with a playful look in her eye as she looked down on her quarry. Running her hands down John's well-muscled chest, she eventually came to his pants, where an obvious bulge was waiting to be released.

As she started working to get his belt removed, the batarian leaned forward slightly and whispered to the Commander in that sweet, alien voice of hers.

"This is going to be fun..."

In no time, John's pants were beings stripped from him, his underwear being dragged right along with them. The human's erect member sprung up, finally free from the confines of his pants. Phema's eyes widened at the sight, taking in the throbbing organ in all its glory. An instant later, the look of surprise turned to one of lust and the batarian quickly began stroking John, one of her soft hands pumping the thick shaft. John's head fell back onto the mattress, the human letting out a quiet groan of approval.

He was warm to the touch, Phema noted, like a hot, iron bar wrapped in velvet. Her strokes continued for a few moments before the alien woman dipped her head down and tentatively slipped her tongue across the swollen head, flicking the tip with her wet muscle. This drew a hiss from the human below her, his body tensing from the sudden contact. Smiling with newfound confidence, Phema dipped her head down again, this time dragging her tongue from the base of the shaft all the way to the tip, giving the member a nice sheen from her saliva, then taking a couple inches into her mouth, wrapping her soft lips around him and swirling her wet, warm tongue around the head.

The resulting noise that erupted from the Commander's mouth told Phema she was doing something right.

John was basking in the pleasure this batarian was giving him, letting the euphoria flow through him. Soon, the woman was slowly bobbing her head in his lap, setting a steady pace and taking a little more of him into her mouth with each stroke of her tongue. All the while, the alien was moaning her own satisfaction at the flavor of the human in her mouth, sending pleasurable vibrations all along John's shaft.

Phema then began to suck, her cheeks hollowing as the inside of her mouth was deprived of air. John grunted loudly at the feeling, finding his hand cupping the back of the batarian woman's head as a reflex, lightly urging her to continue.

Phema obliged, bobbing her head at a faster pace, the sounds of her slurping mouth almost drowning out the sounds of Jack and the Madam pleasing each other across the room.

Soon, it became too much and Phema released John from her mouth, letting his wet cock slap against her chin as she sucked in a deep breath of air. She looked up at the human with a playful look, revealing that her chin and the area around her mouth were slick with both her own saliva and John's precum. The very sight made John pulsate with need, his exposed member aching for more contact with the woman straddling him.

"Fuuuck!" groaned the Commander, "Don't torture me like this!"

With a soft purr, Phema dipped her head back down to continue her work. Feeling daring, the batarian female decided to do something a little more... carnal. The human's cock glided into her mouth quickly, already slick with her saliva. She was only able to get a little over halfway before the head hit the back of her mouth. Gradually, she pushed onward, sliding the throbbing organ into her throat, drawing a loud moan of approval from the human. She fought back her gag reflex, controlling herself until her nose made contact with his skin, the human's thick cock fully engulfed within the tight and warm confines of her throat.

John couldn't believe what was happening to him. A batarian woman of all people was currently deep-throating him and she was actually pretty damn good at it. The human swore loudly when the alien woman began to "swallow" him, the muscles in her throat convulsing around his prick, effectively "milking" him.

John's breathing became ragged, his heart feeling as if it were about to burst from his chest. His body was tensing up, signaling to Phema that he was close to erupting. Phema swallowed a few more times before pulling back, releasing the human cock from her mouth with a depraved, slurpy "pop". She took a second to gasp for air before returning to her work, leaving the poor human no chance to recover. She did not take him into her throat again, instead reverting back to the standard bobbing of her head and strokes of her tongue, taking the time to enjoy the texture and flavor of her human prize.

John was in Heaven. Or maybe it was Valhalla. Aphrodite's Chambers, perhaps? It did not matter much to the marine. All he could focus on was the feelings of euphoric bliss the alien female was giving him.

Then Phema hummed against his cock, a sweet, honey-like noise that drove John over the edge. The organ twitched, spilling hot cum into the batarian's mouth. The woman moaned appreciatively, not stopping her strokes for a moment as each spurt further coated her tongue in the delectably warm fluid. It was clear to John that she enjoyed the flavor of him, which he found odd considering the attitude of some human woman towards the taste of their men's ejaculate.

One woman's trash, another's treasure...

The last spurt of cum eventually came and John finally relaxed, tension leaving his muscles as he melted into the mattress. Phema pulled her mouth away, carefully letting the human cock slip from her lips so as to not lose a single drop of her prize. Then, making sure John was looking, she threw her head back and swallowed, the sight of her throat convulsing telling John all he needed to know.

Jesus H. Tap-dancing Christ...

Unfortunately, it was at this point that the effects of the large amounts of alcohol John had consumed began to set in. Events became fuzzy and unfocused, much to the human's chagrin. It was like watching a vid with an annoying younger sister who had control of the remote and decided to skip from scene to scene at random. On the upside, however, John was still able to get a decent grasp of the situation at times, remembering many good parts later on.

He remembered eating Phema out, ravaging that tight, alien pussy with his tongue. He remembered dipping his tongue between those hot, honey-flavored folds of hers, tasting a goddess and making her cry his name as she came all over his face.

He went to the room's bathroom to clean himself up after that and came back out to be greeted with two beautiful sights.

Jack pinning the Madam onto a dresser, eating the asari out like a champion.

And Phema on the bed, on all fours, her ass facing him, legs spread. She had set herself on display for the human, in all her dripping wet glory. The look she gave him over her shoulder sparked something primal within the human.

John remembered quickly making his way to the bed, and thrusting inside the alien woman hard enough to make her lurch forward. The squeak she let out almost had him spent right then and there. Then he was fucking her, hard and fast. Hips slapped against hips in a chaotic, almost savage, rhythm.

She was wet. And tight.

God, was she fucking tight.

Her high pitched mewling only drove John to new heights of arousal, the human pressing the alien female into the mattress as he pumped his cock into her warm, tight depths. Phema's balled up her hands into the bed sheets, grabbing fistfuls of the silky material as the Lion of Elysium dominated her. She would not relinquish herself so quietly, however, as she soon began to match his thrusts with her own, driving her hips back into his and coaxing the human to go faster. He obliged, obviously. She came loudly, the mattress muffling her cries of ecstasy. John followed soon after, spilling himself inside her again.

They collapsed onto the bed, boneless and spent, both panting heavily. From the sounds of things, Jack and the Madam were still going strong. Moments later, Phema had her lips wrapped around John's cock again, eager to get him back up for another round. John laughed in disbelief.

She's insatiable.

John couldn't remember how long their activities went on, though he did know that by the end of it, they were both covered in sweat and fluids, their bodies clinging to each other in pure carnal lust, a need for the release that awaited them at the end of their activities.

The human next had the batarian pinned beneath him on the mess of a bed, pillows and sheets thrown every which way. John lifted his hips then slammed them back down, hilting himself within his alien lover with each thrust, drawing angelic cries from her. Phema clung to him, long elegant legs hooked around his waist, nails raking down his back, mixing a slight stinging pain into the pleasure they gave each other. They were kissing again, tongues gliding over each other as their lips connected.

Some time later, two other warm bodies joined the pair on the bed. Jack had apparently decided it was time for some "real" fun.

Though hazy, John would later still be able to remember some of what happened next.

At some point, the asari madam had taken his length between her impressive breasts, stroking his shaft with those impossibly soft globes and sucking on his throbbing head as Jack planted herself on his face, coaxing him into tasting her. Behind Jack was Phema, who had taken the opportunity to begin fingering the convict in her tight rear, the batarian scissoring two digits within the human woman's ass. The human woman made her approval known through loud (and rather creative) curses.

Then there was the fond memory of Jack and the Madam servicing John at the same time, there pretty little faces staring up at him with those looks of false innocence that drove the human crazy. The asari had taken to focusing on the human commander's hefty sack, swirling her tongue over a testicle before taking it into her mouth and sucking on it. Meanwhile, Jack had his shaft, her familiar tongue coating his cock with her saliva. Phema, by that point, was utterly spent, passed out on the bed with John's cum leaking from her mouth, her pussy, and her ass.

And last, but definitely not least, was the Madam allowing John to take her ass. It had been easier than it had been with Jack or Phema, considering that at that point, John had already been sufficiently lubricated. The human remembered that the asari had been almost unbearably tight, but also maddeningly pleasurable. Her ass had gripped his cock like a vise, making it almost impossible to move at first. As time went by, however, he was able to start pumping in and out of her velvety rectum like a piston. In front of the Madam was Jack, who had the asari lips captured with her own, her human tongue slipping into the asari's mouth. The sight was too much for John, the Commander coming with a roar, filling the asari's ass with hot cum.

John would be sure that there was more, more depravity, more perversion. The alcohol in his system would all but erase those memories, though. One, conversation, however, would still stay in his mind. It would be hazy, unfocused, but it would definitely be there. He would remember Jack speaking to him as Phema rode him, rolling her hips across his.

"You see this, Boyscout? You see how wet you make her? This is what you do to me. Heroes get me hot, Boyscout, you know that?"

"But _ -ngh- _ you said-."

"I said I didn't like _ pussies _. A man who springs me from prison isn't a pussy. A man who kills thresher maws isn't a pussy. A man who clears his bucket-head's name of treason by shouting at people isn't a pussy. When we first met, you were _ acting _ like one, though. I needed to change that."

"So all this...?"

"I needed to show you that heroes are still important to people. Phema here would still be a slave if not for heroes. Heroes aren't pussies. But heroes do show mercy."

"Mercy-?"

"The turian's buddy. You just let him get shot. That's not happening again, Boyscout."

"...Yes, ma'am."

"Good. When we're done here, maybe we'll go have a chat with your bucket-head. Your little goody-goody chaste relationship was getting on my nerves. On everyone's nerves. Just fuck her already."

"But I already-."

"Does not count if she's not out of the suit."

"...Alright then. I'll see to fix that."

"That's what I like to hear."