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[b][u][center]Mounting Debt[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]Chapter 3: Rich Customer[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For bbbuuu[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

With a Batarian behind him and a human in front of him, Azen was getting quite a bit more action than he was used to during his dance. Sure, the Salarian was used to stripping in front of people and putting on a show in the back rooms during business hours, but this was far more personal than usual. For one, he didn't usually have cocks in his hands while he was grinding around, and for another, he didn't have a groping asshole just waiting for a chance to ram a finger up his hole standing behind him.

[i]Least the Boss is keeping him behaved,[/i] he thought, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the Turian that sat on the couch. [i]But what else does he want? Dance has him hard, yes, but will he want more?[/i]

Azen already knew that he was going to be in trouble if the Boss wanted more than a simple strip and dance. There was no excuse to turn him down, considering the credits that the Turian was already throwing around. Black and red mandibles clicked together as the Blue Sun merc watched him, moving almost like a human or Salarian might have rubbed their chin in thought. It was disturbing…and he wondered how long it would be until he ended up with his head against the wall and his ass in the air.

[i]No, no, might not happen. Don't worry about something that hasn't happened yet.[/i]

Still, the credits on the table were a worrying sign. Already, the Boss had paid about three hundred credits, first for a solo dance, then a group one. And now, there was even more on the table, doubling what was already there.

“Alright, boys…let him go."

Both Jenkins and Geeroy stepped away, the pair of them grumbling about having to stop before they were done, but Azen almost wished that they were still beside him. At least when they were on the stage with him, he didn't feel quite like he was at the Boss's mercy. There was a hunger in those eyes that he had never seen in the audience at Afterlife, and he knew that if he left himself vulnerable, he'd be consumed.

Yet, at the same time, with the apartment already under their control and used as a fortress, with their guns the only thing that might hold off some of the vengeful Blood Pack, he had to keep them happy. It was a dangerous balancing act.

The Boss gestured at him, curling a finger for him to come forward, and he did as he was told. Azen stopped just in front of the Turian, and the Boss chuckled.

“So, Salarian. You've blown my boys, and you dance well. What [i]are[/i] your costs?"

He was more than tempted to say something outrageous, but he doubted that Jenkins or Geeroy – Geeroy in particular – would hesitate to correct him. So much for 'if you have to ask, you can't afford it.' He sighed.

“100 for a lapdance. 150 for oral. 500 for anal."

In the back of his mind, Azen believed himself to be safe, for the most part. The Turian had already spent six hundred credits to get a dance and…well, he assumed a lapdance, in a moment. Even mercenary leaders didn't make that much, particularly ones that were heads of small pieces of the mercenary group. He doubted that the Boss headed more than maybe a hundred members of the Blue Suns, if that. Surely, he wouldn't have –

Clatter clatter.

His eyes went wide as another four hundred credits landed on the table. It brought the total there up to a thousand, which covered solo dance, group dance, a lapdance…and anal.

The Boss smirked at him.

“Alright, Salarian. Come here, and show me what you can do on my lap."

“Facing you or facing away?"

The question was automatic, something that he asked whenever someone asked for a lapdance, but his mind was a hundred kilometers away. Here he was, getting essentially owned for the night by this Turian, and there was nothing he could do about it. The credits were pouring out like water, and all he could do was take it. There was nothing in his 'contract' that allowed him to refuse a customer with enough credits, and there was nobody around to protect him from the consequences of angry mercenaries if he did.

“Facing away."

“Yes, sir."

He moved mechanically, though it was graceful enough considering how often he'd studied how to make himself move right. His body already knew what to do, turning and straddling the Turian's lap, swaying his hips back and forth to make for a good bit of eye-candy for the mercenary. He felt a pair of hands grab him down there, but there was nothing he could do about that. There wasn't exactly a no-touching rule here in the apartment.

[i]What am I going to do, what am I going to do?[/i] he thought, looking to the side and watching as Jenkins and Geeroy watched the show with grins on their faces and throbbing cocks. They weren't even watching the windows anymore. What if the Blood Pack came? What if they started getting shot at?

It didn't seem to matter to any of the mercenaries anymore, as they were completely focused on him. He would have been flattered to get this attention at Afterlife, when he had the power to keep them away, but here? He felt like meat being hunted by experienced predators.

Nevertheless, he kept professional. He shook his ass like a good little stripper, swaying it from side to side in the way that the Asari did, but with a little more power behind it to remind them that it wasn't just a female that they were looking at. He pulled his ass up, and then ground it down, feeling the heavy metal armor beneath his rump as he did. The fact that there was such a boundary between him and the Boss was reassuring, but not as much as he would have liked.

The Salarian shivered as the Boss ground him back down, holding onto his hips so that he couldn't move as freely as he liked. The sense of being controlled was…not bad, though it was worrying. He didn't want to think of someone like this holding onto him for long, not when his studies had already been abandoned to the point of obscurity.

[i]Studies…yes…studies…[/i]

He tried to throw himself back into what he knew of Turian biology, hoping that there was some secret to their nervous system that he could use. They had to have something that would let them go over the edge quickly, something that he could use against the Boss once the anal part started. There was always something with every species, as he'd found with Geeroy's little trigger around his thighs, and Jenkins around his taint. There was always…

Except that every Turian client that he'd ever had would only strip off the crotch plate of their armor and then go to town. He didn't know what else they liked, because none of them gave him a chance to study.

[i]Damn…that was not smart…[/i]

He shivered as the thick fingers on his hips shifted back to his ass again, pulling the cheeks apart and making his hole visible. Thumbs rubbed in a circle around his rim, almost pushing in, but for the first time since someone actually paid for it, they didn't go plunging in right away. He blinked, looking over his shoulder as he kept swaying around, grinding down, his confused expression earning him a little chuckle.

“Don't worry. I plan on getting that later. But for now, I want to see what you can do."

Ominous words, but not enough to stop him. As the Boss called for his men to get back to the windows and watch the streets, Azen tried to focus on his actions and make sure that they were as sexy as possible. He swung his hips out a little wider, feeling his ass cheeks clapping together a bit more as he moved. He could feel the breeze of the air conditioning rubbing against his hole, making him pucker a little harder, and feel a bit tighter from the chill.

Thankfully, his cock hadn't slid out just yet, as that would have been as embarrassing as it could get. Much as they were paying him, he didn't want to look like he was enjoying the treatment of being their whore. He was still a stripper, still an academic. Still a Salarian, not a little whore that had to use their body to get by. As long as he could think, he could make sure that there was a way out of this.

It wasn't until he was grinding his ass back against the metal and felt it sliding down that he knew that things were changing. His eyes went wide as the slippery smooth metal fell out of the way, and he felt the Turian's cock sliding up between his ass cheeks. He looked back, opened his mouth –

“I've paid for everything, little Salarian. There's nothing that you need to worry about. If you think you need hazard pay for something this big, however, that's another thing."

Clatter, clatter. More credits, at least another two hundred. He shuddered. There seemed to be no limit to the Turian's stockpile of cash, and he started to wonder if there was going to be something that he couldn't deliver on at this rate. There was too much on the line for him to just stop, and he felt like he was going to lose his mind at this rate. There was too much that didn't add up.

[i]Where does a mercenary leader get all these credits? Why isn't he worried about the Blood Pack? Why is he buying up so much time with me? Why doesn't anything matter to him?[/i]

There were too many questions for him to answer easily, and he was too frazzled and worn out to be able to think through them one by one. The bulbous cock between his ass cheeks didn't help, either, as it made it very hard for him to focus on anything but the fact that he was going to get fucked, and soon.

The lapdance had turned into more of being a toy for the Turian, and he could feel his ass cheeks being pulled around that shaft. Much like an Asari stripper giving a titjob to a client, his ass cheeks were pressed tight to the Turian's shaft, keeping him from sliding away, and making it impossible for him to think of anything but the heat and hardness back there. It slid up and down, rubbing against his ass, against his hole, always threatening to slide right in if he made one little mistake in the way that he ground back.

Every now and then, he heard a little grunt from the Boss, and he wondered if the Turian was getting close. He braced himself every time, expecting to feel a splatter along his back or along his ass, but it never happened. All he felt were the little splatters and sprays of pre along the cheeks, running down along the shaft proper and making it more slimy and slippery than it had been only a moment before.

Up and down, up and down, he slid, using his body as a sex toy, and feeling the Turian pull him along when he moved a little too slow. He blushed and shivered, groaned and moaned at the appropriate times, and tried not to think too hard about how…nice…it was to have someone that was confident and calm back there. The mysteries of the Turian were frightful, and he tried to maintain the sheer fear that he had that it would backfire on him and that he would be in trouble, but there was something…something…

He shuddered, realizing what it was. It was the mystery. Salarians couldn't stand the idea of something that they couldn't figure out. It made them obsess, it made them crave answers, and the fact that he couldn't figure the Boss out made him attach to the Turian in ways that were unhealthy. Azen could recognize the starts of the obsession, the signs of it, but there wasn't a way for him to remove himself from it. All he could do was ride along with it, and hope that he figured out a way to get free.

The tip of the Turian's cock finally nudged his hole directly, and he gasped as he felt the very tip slide slightly past his rim. He looked over his shoulder, and saw in the Boss's eyes that the time had come.

“Get up against the wall, Salarian. It's time for me to have what I paid for."

There was no denying that command. It was stronger and more authoritative than any other client that he'd ever had, and he found himself walking before he could stop himself. He leaned against the wall, shivering as he felt a finger rubbing up and down between his ass cheeks. The payment on the table confirmed that he was selling himself, that he'd been paid just for this.

“I'm not a whore…"

“You are, now. I paid for what I wanted, and you're giving it to me."

[i]That…that is…[/i]

It was the literal definition of a whore, and no matter how much Azen tried to get around it by rationalizing or explaining it to himself, it continued to burn in the back of his head that he was literally giving his body up for someone else to use, and there was no way to get around that he was doing it for money. There was every chance that he could study a Turian up close this way, but the fact was, he was living off of his body, not his brain…and that was something that no true Salarian did.

He barely felt it when the finger slipped inside of him, his mind cracking at the idea of being less than what he'd always been. A brilliant man, someone that knew everything that he needed to know about the universe, and yet, here he was, naked and up against the wall, a finger plundering his ass and about to take a thick cock up him just to make his way forward in the universe. He was nothing…nothing but –

“Mmm, that is a tight little hole. You don't get many clients paying for this, do you, whore?"

The word hit him again, and he almost collapsed, his eyes closing tightly as he felt a second finger sliding up his ass, wiggling him open. His mind was all in a spin, making it so hard to think, so hard to put things together. He was addicted to the mystery, his mind stuck in a loop as it tried to figure out the ways behind the Turian, but all he could do was moan as he was fingered, filled, fingered, filled.

His legs spread without him even thinking about it, and soon, there was more than a finger or two pressing against his hole. He looked down and back, saw the Turian mercenary lining up and getting ready to slam in, and he shivered. His hole puckered, and he felt it squeezing down on the very head as he was ground against.

“Looks like you're as ready for it as you can be, Salarian. Do you have any more of that oil of yours?"

“B-Bedroom…"

“Get it, Geeroy."

The Batarian ran off, and he shivered as he felt the little nudges of that cock head bumping against his hole. Every nudge weakened his tightness back there, opened him up a bit. His rim wouldn't be the same after this, his sphincter used hard, more than likely. The Turian didn't strike him as the sort to hold back, not at the beginning and not towards the end. He was going to ache for the rest of the night, and the morning.

Despite himself, his cock was actually getting hard, finally sliding out and free. He blushed, trying to reach down and cover it, but the Boss grabbed his arm before he could. Both of his arms were pulled behind his back, pinned at the base of his spine, and he could only groan as the Boss chuckled.

“What's the matter? Afraid that if you like it, you'll go and do this again? You already sell yourself on the stage, Salarian. You can afford to show off the goods a little bit more. Who knows? Maybe someone will buy you for that, rather than this."

The Turian was strong enough to hold him by one hand, and that left the other free to smack his ass. Azen gasped, his eyes opening wide as he leaned against the wall. Chest and cheek were pressed flat against it, and his ass burned from the impact. This was impossible, he thought, utterly impossible, but yet it was happening. There was no denying that he was about to get fucked.

Geeroy returned with the bottle of oil, and no sooner was it in the Boss's hand than it was getting poured all over his cock. He felt it rubbing against his rump, grinding into his hole, and the slippery feeling was just enough to get by the burning stretch that he knew was about to –

“NNNGH!"

[i]Stars, that's hot! And hard. And BIG![/i]

He couldn't think of anything else but the sheer size of the thing in his ass. He'd felt some of it while he was giving the lapdance earlier, but this was beyond anything that he'd expected. The sensation of something so large pushed everything else out of his head, and he was almost lifted off of his feet by the time that the Turian's crotch pressed against his ass. He could feel almost a foot of shaft inside of him, opening him, nearly gaping him from how much he was forced to stretch in order to take it.

He came down again as the Turian pulled back, only to go up the wall once more as he was slammed full. Shudders of pleasure and pain wracked him, running up and down his spine as he was used as the mercenary's stress relief, his ass clamping down hard almost by instinct rather than by choice.

He felt every little ridge along the Boss's cock, every little difference that made it so unique. It was bulbous and heavy, with little bumps along the sides that were like miniature knots, in a way, with a pointed tip that seemed designed to claw its way into different holes. The idea of being claimed by that cock was beyond wrong…yet he was harder than he'd ever been as the Boss continued his slow, smooth thrusts, pushing him up and down, up and down along the wall.

As he started dripping on the floor, he heard the other mercenaries chuckling, knew that they were nudging each other and praising their boss's power, but it was background. There was no way for him – for any Salarian, he imagined – to think clearly when they were getting dicked like this. His hole consumed him, and that cock filled his mind as well as his body. All he could think of was that big, painful, pleasurable shaft.

[i]It's…it's going to…break me…[/i] he thought, shivering at the idea of losing his mind to something so physical, something so carnal. Despite everything, the Salarian couldn't hate it. He wanted to, he wanted to be angry and to rage against what was happening, about how he was being used as a toy, but there was no room for it in his mind. The dick shoved it out, leaving his mouth hanging open and a little bit of drool running down the side of his face.

Up and down, in and out. He could feel his hole loosening, feel the Turian fucking him deeper and harder as he lost the ability to clamp down and push it back quite so much. He wanted to beg for more, and he wanted to beg for mercy. He wanted it to stop, and he wanted it to never end. The contradictions continued piling up until he almost completely shut down, unable to think of anything else but the sex.

In and out, in and out, plates against oiled plates, flesh on flesh. The pleasure mounted, his cock throbbing hard, soon grinding against the wall from the position that he was in. The Boss was flat against his back, rutting him like some sort of Varren rather than a Turian, taking him, claiming him. His eyes were rolled back, and he couldn't think, could only listen as he was fucked to hell and back.

“This is what you are, Salarian. A little whore for me and my men. If you think that you're anything more, just remember this moment and think of how many credits you made in less than an hour. Think about how much you liked not being able to think. Think about how much you enjoyed being a slave to something that you didn't understand, and then tell me that you were anything more than this."

[i]Slave…whore…nothing more…than this…[/i]

The words hurt as they echoed around in his head, made him ache down to his core, but at the same time, he couldn't deny them in the slightest. They were him. They were turning him into this, making him something else, but there was something exciting in the making of this. He almost wanted to surrender to it willingly, to turn himself into something that no Salarian would ever want to be.

Almost.

He held on tight to the bits of information he remembered, the way that the Turian moaned as he slammed in, the way that the Boss panted when his thighs collided with the back of Azen's legs. There were little hints everywhere, clues to the stimulation that the Boss liked. Every piece of it was stored away, shoved into the back of his mind for later retrieval, even as he was used like the slut that he was rapidly becoming.

Soon, all too soon, he felt the Boss slamming him into the wall, the Turian's head resting in the crook of his neck. Two, three ragged thrusts later, and the Boss was cumming.

It was like a hot flood rushing through him, filling him to the brim and then some. He collapsed against the wall in front of him, his cock letting out a weak splatter of his own seed. It pooled under him, running down his legs and leaving a puddle at his feet. The Boss didn't let him fall, but he could feel the squelching feeling under his feet, under his toes.

But it was nothing compared to the flood in his ass. He was burning back there, shivering as he was filled to the brim and then some. He moaned as his prostate took a beating from the splattering shots of cum alone, nevermind everything else that was going on in there. The Salarian's mouth hung open in pure bliss, looking like nothing more than the mindless slut that they accused him of being.

Then, slowly, the Boss pulled out, and a flood of cum came flying out with that shaft. He almost collapsed, and would have, were it not for the hand on the back of his head keeping him pinned.

“Boys. Do you think that your Boss still has it?"

Jenkins and Geeroy both filled the air with compliments, but Azen barely heard them. He was too busy trying to pull his head back together, desperately trying to get his thoughts back.

He had come so close to breaking underneath that anal assault, so close to giving in to what the Salarians referred to as “mind death." It wasn't a killing of the mind, but a killing of thought. Whether through trauma, drugs, or something else entirely, it was when a Salarian reached a point where pride in thought was no longer possible, and when thought itself became impossible for the Salarian in question.

When he was getting fucked, when the Boss was filling his head with the idea of being a total slut and being owned by his own bliss, it had almost happened. He'd almost succumbed, and would have were it not for the fact that he'd been able to integrate the research he'd been using into the fuck. If that hadn't been there, if he'd been any other Salarian with any other field of study, he would have been doomed.

[i]I have…I have to get out of here…I have to get my life back.[/i]

Clatter, clatter.

The ominous sound of credits hitting the table warned him that it wasn't all over yet. He looked up, seeing two thousand credits on the table. The cost of two more sessions of anal had already been paid…and Geeroy and Jenkins looked more than happy to take it up.

“My boys have been very good. I'm going to take their position for a while, and see how well you treat them."

“Finally. Fucking, FINALLY!"

#

[i]He sits there as he's fucked, his legs up in the air as the Batarian hammers at his ass. He can't see, can't think, as the human leans over him and grinds his sweaty balls all over Azen's face. The Salarian shivers at the scent, but tries to hold on, pulling on everything that he knows about the both of them to get them off quickly.[/i]

[i]It is hard. There is no moving, no using his hands to touch pressure points or anything. He has to use his hole, his legs, his feet, on occasion, to get the points that he needs. He shivers as he feels that thick Batarian cock opening him up, thrusting through the mess that the boss left inside of him. There is no waiting for the pair of clients, no holding back to let him get clean. No, he is a whore to them, something to be used and then discarded when they are done, when he is filthy and dirty and without further value.[/i]

[i]Thankfully, Geeroy cums quickly, filling his hole again, making him slimy and swimming with seed on the inside. It helps that he pressed the Batarian's buttons, disguising it by wrapping his legs around the other alien, making it hard to tell just what he was doing. He thinks that if the Boss knew what he'd done, he'd have broken legs.[/i]

[i]It's not so easy with Jenkins, but the human is gentler. He's pulled onto the human's lap, his broken, oozing, dripping hole dragged down onto a smoother shaft. It's not so big as either of the others, but it's not so jarring, either. He doesn't have to work over bulges or feel that thickness ripping him open the way that he had to do before. Instead, he just slides along, feeling the human moaning into his back.[/i]

[i]Up and down, up and down, he moves. Taking it, soaking Jenkins's cock with the seed of the other two mercenaries. They smile, watching him ride the human like a whore, and he tries his best not to think about it.[/i]

[i]It takes him almost thirty minutes to get Jenkins off, and he cums twice in the process. When it's done, he collapses, unable to move, the three mercenaries smiling at him as he oozes their seed from his hole onto the floor. He slides into unconsciousness.[/i]

#

When he woke up, the room wasn't so quiet anymore. There were more voices, at least four times as many as there had been when he'd slipped off. The Salarian groaned, lifting his head to look around.

Bedroom. He was in his bedroom. That was something. He was also in a puddle of cum, though that wasn't unexpected. He had been used a lot.

It had to have been at least an hour since the fuck, since he was thinking clearly again. He shook his head a few more times, pushing himself to remember what had happened, and what the situation was now.

[i]Must have carried me to bed. More kindness than I expected.[/i] He though back to the Boss, how the Turian had been so calm earlier, and realized something that he hadn't thought about then.

[i]Reinforcements were coming. He was never upset, never worried. He had people coming before he called out from here. Means that the Blood Pack were never a threat if he could find a place to hold up. That's why they didn't look. Which means he knew the fight was going to happen at Afterlife.[/i]

That was a worrying thought. He'd assumed that the Blood Pack had been the ones that were starting things, that someone had convinced them that they were strong enough to stand up to Aria and to throw a fight. But what if that wasn't the case at all?

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Both Geeroy and Jenkins had been in the back, perfectly placed to get out and find a vehicle to get the Boss out of the club, and they were ready to run as soon as the guns started firing. No shock, none of the usual confusion that should have happened when something came as a surprise. They were ready for business, and came out shooting.

[i]That means that…the Blue Suns set it up? Why?[/i]

There were several possible answers to that, none of which he liked. The most obvious possibility was the idea of getting better profits and less competition. The Blood Pack were the most antagonistic to the Blue Suns, and that meant that they were the biggest competition. The Eclipse operated on a more digital level, working on hacking and breaking down systems rather than fighting so much on the battlefield, so they were probably less of a concern.

And starting a fight in Afterlife, of course, meant that Aria had to get personally involved. If they made it look like the Blood Pack had started it…

[i]Aria would come down like hell upon them,[/i] he realized. If there were any of the Blood Pack left from the night in Afterlife, he'd be amazed. Considering they were a major customer of the club, as well, the fight and Aria's reprisal probably would have wiped out a couple of hundred of the mercenary band, whereas the Blue Suns had probably gotten away with losing maybe a dozen, at most. Mathematically, it was a good trade for them.

More than that, though, it could work as a destabilizer to Aria. If she killed enough of the Blood Pack, the whole mercenary band would have to respond, and that would be hard even for the powerful Asari to counter. Even if Aria won, she'd be weak, and that would give the Blue Suns as a whole a chance to move in, possibly enough of one to claim Omega for their own, with all the profits that came with it.

[i]And if the Boss came up with the idea, he probably sold it as an expendable. If he wins, then the Blue Suns get their biggest prize ever. If he loses, it was just the action of a local leader, not the mercenary company as a whole.[/i]

Short term and long term, the Blue Suns came out ahead. They'd already gotten their immediate goal. If they got the other…

The door to his bedroom opened before he could finish puzzling it out, or realize why the Boss had done this in the first place. The Turian in question stepped inside, followed by a good dozen mercenaries behind him, all in Blue Suns armor. He blushed, turning and covering himself with a pillow.

“What's going on? Why are you still here?"

“Why, to claim my prize, of course."

Eyes going wider than ever as the Turian sat down on the bed, Azen was helpless as a restraint collar was slapped around his neck, followed by a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. The mercenary pulled him to his feet, pushing him forward and almost knocking him down again in the process.

“But – You can't –"

“I am merely taking what I paid for, Salarian. You sold your body quite eagerly, after all. I intend on making sure that I get what I wanted out of that investment."

Two thousand credits in a night was not worth his whole body, but without something to argue it, there was no way he could get out of this. There were too many mercenaries around, all of them with guns, and all of them looking at him like Geeroy had from the very beginning. The only one with any sympathy or warmth to his expression was Jenkins, and that was more of an apology than anything else. No regret, no rescue, just an apology.

The Boss grabbed him by the wrists, pushing him out of the bedroom. Several of the mercs had already collected the two thousand credits from the table, and handed them back to the Boss as they passed through the room. Azen tried to say something, tried to muster some sort of protest, but it was too late. They were already through the room, back to the hallway, and heading out to the streets.

[i]This isn't how the night was supposed to go![/i] he thought. [i]I was supposed to get paid, go home, and get some sleep. I wasn't supposed to get kidnapped here![/i]

It was only after they got down to the streets and he was shoved into one of the hovercars that he realized that there were even bigger problems. Not much bigger than him becoming a sex slave, but a few. Like, what was going to happen if Aria didn't find out about this? What would happen to Gavorn and Oscar if they got pulled into this conflict? How many more people would die if this turned into open war?

Too many. Way too many. He had to tell someone, but there was no way he could do anything while he was stuck with the Turian. Particularly with the Turian taking the same hovercar as him.

As they took off, the Boss grabbed him, pulling him down to the open crotch plate between the Turian's legs. The only relief was that the cock smelled like it had been washed since it had been inside of him.

“It's time for you to give me a little more pleasure, Salarian. I bought your body, and now it's time for me to enjoy it. Start sucking."

He didn't have a choice. He opened his mouth and started pulling the tip into his mouth. It scratched lightly along his tongue for a moment before he got used to it, and he had to angle his head differently than normal to take it all the way back into his throat.

Thankfully, the ride was smoother than it usually was. There was no shooting going on, no fancy maneuvers, no sudden attacks or risks of death. It was just a simple transport, moving from one location to another, giving him an easy job of sucking the Boss off on the way there. He was, however, rather insulted that his skills seemed barely capable of keeping the Boss hard, let alone making him cum.

By the time they landed, he was already thinking of different things. Salarians were incredibly smart, but easily distracted, and he was no exception as he was pushed towards the warehouse that was the Blue Suns hideout.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]