Mass Effect: The Hunt for Saren

Chapter Seven: Thorian Justice



[Here it is, the much-anticipated eighth installment of The Hunt for Saren. My apologies for the delay. This installment was heavily revised over three times. I hope you like the end result. Please continue to rate and review my story, as the feedback really fuels my writing. And thanks for the positive feedback so far.]



John looked helplessly from one asari clone to the next. They each stared back at him with looks of detached malevolence, unmoving, unflinching, silent until the four spoke for the Thorian as one:



“Fleshlings have taken much from the world of deep stillness,” the asari chorus intoned. “We have lost much to your treachery. You have hurt this One, devalued it because it is different.”



“I didn’t--Saren did,” John tried to argue, but his voice was overpowered by the asari clones.



“All because you thought you could take from this One without penalty,” the asari drones stepped forward, encircling John. “But you cannot take from the Old Growth without recompense. And now we will have it...”



The asari reached down and grabbed John’s arms and legs, each alien wrestling one of his wriggling limbs. They spent several minutes prying off his armor first, then his under suit, leaving him naked on the cold, damp concrete. His clothes, armor, and weapons were carried away tossed aside while the four asari held his naked form down.



“What the fuck are you doing?” John demanded angrily. The asari clones hesitated a moment before replying as one.



“The Old Growth was betrayed by fleshlings because your scurrying kind is too different from it.” One asari held his ankles down, another grasped each of his wrists, while the forth stood over him. “The Thorian will make a new breed of Tenders--Thorian-born fleshlings who will grow up in the sanctuary of this place--and they will not fight him. You will provide seed for these four soils, that the Tenders may grow.”



“Hate to break it to you, pal,” John grunted uncomfortably as the asari over him began to unbuckle her crimson suit. “But asari don’t work that way...”



“These vessels will transport your seed to the Thorian, grateful to be so used,” the asari over John murmured by herself as she revealed a pair of green breasts. John had seen bigger, but the sight was not unwelcome. She peeled away the rest of her bodysuit, exposing a flat stomach, a narrow waist, and a slight swell at the hips. John gagged and almost shouted in surprise and fright when the asari revealed her crotch. Deviating from the asari physiology, the creature’s crotch was a mottled mess that looked like a fleshy mound of rotted leaves, much like the Thorian itself.



“Gah! No, please don’t do this,” John protested in disgust. “I’m hunting Saren, I’m his enemy, just like you!”



“Not like us,” the asari murmured as one as the other clones began stripping their identical bodies. They alternated between disrobing and holding him in place, however, so John was never free to escape them. “But soon, the Old Growth will have tenders that look very much like you...and they shall swell this atrium by the score.”



John continued to protest and fight against his captors, even as the four asari moved in on him forcefully. The two holding his arms stroked his biceps, pressing him down while he pointlessly and evocatively bucked against them. With his arms and ankles held firmly in place by the asari sirens, John’s struggling appeared to be suggestive pelvic thrusts.



“Anxiously the scurrying fleshling demands its part in the root of ages...” the asari mocked as one. The asari holding his ankles leaned forward, a vacuous expression on her face as her lips slid towards John’s cock.



Despite their accusations, John didn’t want this. The asari still stood over him, her sick analog of a vagina making him want to vomit as it wiggled in front of him. But, despite himself, he was getting hard even before the asari at his feet approached his cock. Quickly the alien’s lips slid loosely over his throbbing penis, which hardened another few inches in length. The alien’s eyes remained wide open and expressionless as it silently and slowly accepted the length of his penis into her mouth. Even when she was past the point when most women would gag, the asari seemed unaffected as she slowly slid his full length to the back of her throat.



Then, with the methodical nature of a milkmaid, the asari slowly moved her head up, dragging her wet lips along the length of his penis. He shuddered, goose flesh perforating his skin as he tried to resist the senseless pleasure of her mouth. He told himself that this was an abomination, that he was being raped by the disgusting mass in the middle of the atrium, not the four winsome aliens around him. They were not enjoying him, nor was he really enjoying them. John even realized, despite the warmth and closeness inside her mouth, the asari’s tongue was not moving; it was as though he was somehow being raped by a sleeping woman or coma patient.



These thoughts didn’t help John resist his bodies natural impulses. His buttocks clenched, involuntarily thrusting his penis upward it the asari’s mouth. If she would’ve smiled, John would have been reassured, but instead the asari kept slowly moving her head up and down on his shaft.



Gradually the pace quickened. John swallowed hard, his mouth watering and his jaw clenched as the asari’s lips massaged the fat veins along either side of his penis. It was then that the other three participants began to aide in the assault on his body. The two asari beside him began nibbling his arms, methodically and carefully kissing and licking his skin heartlessly. The asari standing over him knelt down, her Thorian bush almost atop the other’s head as she straddled John. She leaned forward, letting her breasts drape across his hard nipples, and then kissed him.



John was surprised by the kiss most of all. It had passion. His eyes blinked shut as his head rolled back, the asari’s tongue exploring his mouth. She tasted bitter with a slight acidic tang, but John was enchanted by the swathe her tongue was flitting through his mouth. He slurped at her tongue, but was rewarded with more of the rancid taste. His eyes fluttered open, only to be greeted by the hollow, even gaze of the asari kissing him. Despite the revulsion he felt in his soul, John felt his penis surge as small spasm of pre-cum burped into the mouth of the asari blowing him. John grunted, but he had no other way to resist the inevitable surge of sensation that was building in his loins. His hips tensed as the asari continued to slowly drag up and down his shaft several more times before he could take no more. Before he erupted in the asari’s mouth.



John had been blown before, but the asari clone’s reaction was totally unique. The alien practically inhaled his ejaculate as it came out. The asari’s here-to-for lifeless tongue pressed the underside of his penis’ head, eking the cum down the back of her throat. She applied constant, unrelenting suction, not allowing the smallest drop of his seed to escape her mouth. It hurt. Even as he was coming in spurts inside her, he felt as though his rod was being crushed by her powerful and persistent suction. He whimpered through his throat, but the aliens either didn’t care or didn’t understand the pitiful sound he was making.



The asari continued to suck John’s penis dry while the other three continued their affections on John. When his cum had been totally consumed, the asari lifted her mouth off of his sorely pink penis and stood up. She wordlessly strode to the middle of the atrium, mouth wide open, and began engorging herself on one of the Thorian’s tentacles. John fought the sudden and fearsome urge to vomit, looking away from the disturbing scene to look at the breasts of the asari on him.



Minutes passed. The remaining three asari resumed their hollow lovemaking. The two flanking John began licking and nibbling the side of his neck, while the third spoke, her lips brushing against his.



“You would stop now, but the Old Growth needs strength,” the asari said, grasping John wilting penis. “Your seed shall flow on...”



“F-fuck you, b-bitch,” John stammered against the waves of sensation battering his body. But, once again, his penis refused to reflect his rebellion: hardening slightly in the asari’s hand.



The asari wordlessly mounted John’s rising rod, her alien pussy squishing grotesquely and wetly over John. He snarled at the especially wet and strange sensation and the lukewarm temperature of the alien’s insides. His member, still continuing to harden, roughly thrust aside internal folds of flesh as the asari bounced her pelvis against him.



She rocked back and forth rhythmically and roughly at first, but she soon became even rougher: throwing the weight of her lower body onto John’s abused penis with an increasing cadence and force that felt like punches to his gut. She kept this up for some minutes until John’s penis involuntarily erupted into her lukewarm pocket of flesh. She waited, calmly, obliviously until John’s penis receded from her, going limp once more. She then stood, walked over to the Thorian beside the asari being orally inspected, and spread her legs silently as one of the Thorian’s longer tentacles slid up into her mockery of a vagina.



John fought a wave of nausea--both at the sight of the Thorian and at the near-constant sexual activity. He dozed for a few moments, but awoke when the remaining two asari began to maneuver themselves around him. He groaned inwardly, sure of where this was going, unsure whether he could do it, and absolutely opposed to this kind of biological slavery.



One of the asari lay flat face first on the ground beside him. The other grabbed John’s shoulder roughly and rolled his weak, aching body over the first one. The asari standing over him dug one hand into her smelly, rancid crotch, soaking her hands in her own fluids, and wrapped her hand around John’s unresponsive penis, lubing him.



“No,” John murmured softly. “I can’t do this anymore. Give me a break, please. Don’t make me...”



His half-strength pleas were ignored and the asari over him moved her finger into his butt as her other hand maneuvered his penis into the prone asari’s. John, shocked and horrified at the finger invaded his own ass, didn’t resist the asari’s direction as he was inserted into the lower one. The prone asari, with a strength that belied her slight frame, managed to rise onto her hands and knees, propping John behind her. Doggy-style, as the marines aboard the Normandy would say.



John tried to slide out and away, but the asari behind him used her finger inside him as a control. She let him back out only an inch before she pushed fiercely forward, a knife of pain arching through John’s butt, urging him forward. And so forward he went. Hard and fast. The asari controlling him hooked her finger and pulled back on his anus. So back he went. A prod, and forward again.



This continued for some time, with John’s abused penis slowly coming to fully harden inside the asari clone’s ass, until the asari behind John removed her finger. John’s ass had been hurting so bad, and so focused he was on the task at hand, that he didn’t even realize when she had removed her hand from him. But when he realized their mistake, his mind raced with possibilities. He railed harder and faster against the asari’s little rump. In fact, he thrust more deeply into her than was necessary, and wasn’t sure if the thing he was fucking felt pain. At this point he didn’t care.



His hands reached forward and under the asari bitch, grabbing a hold of her modest breasts. He used the leverage to shock forward and backward into the creature as sweat beaded on his brow and splattered onto her back. His penis ached and his back quivered at the strain, but John’s fierce thrusting soon eked out an angry ejaculation into the clone. He grunted angrily and held painfully close to the alien while his cum oozed into her. When he was done, the asari stood and joined the other two being inspected by the Thorian. She bent over without ceremony as a tentacle slid into her ass, sampling or inspecting John’s semen--he didn’t care to consider which.



It was then that John made his move. Without taking a moment to rest, he stood and turned to face the fourth and final asari. His shot down to her rancid crotch and grabbed a firm handhold. His other hand grabbed her shoulder. The asari didn’t react to the pain he was doubtless causing her, but it let out a slow gasp as John pushed her off the edge of the atrium into the abyss below the Thorian.



A wet thump a few seconds later confirmed her fate while John, naked and sore, lunged for the unguarded weapons the asari had so carelessly cast aside. The three asari being inspected by the Thorian snarled as the tentacles quickly retracted from their orifices with a slight tearing sound. They were doubtless turning to attack John, ready to pummel him with their biotic witchery. John sprayed assault rifle rounds across their chests and let their dead bodies tumble into the chasm below, joining their spawn-mate.



“Time to die, you fat fucker,” John said, pointing his rifle at the Thorian pointlessly. He then turned to either side as the sound of Creepers rising by the dozen filled the atrium. With no time to put on his armor, he’d be dead almost instantly. “Fine, we’ll do this the gross way...”



With that, John tossed his weapon up atop the mass of the Thorian. He then ran, jumped, and latched onto the recoiling tentacles of the huge beast. His hands immediately began to slip on the amorphous mass, but John tightened his grip and slowly climbed up the disgusting mass. Behind him, Creepers clustered at the atrium’s edge, unable to mount any sort of attack on the naked man.



Once atop the Thorian’s bulk, John retrieved the assault rifle he’d tossed there and aimed at the nearest ‘root’ anchoring the Thorian to the atrium’s walls. A hundred rounds sprayed at the base of the tendril shredded it to pieces, leaving a stump that issued a brown fluid falling in torrents. He then gave similar treatments to the other tendrils. All but two. One of the remaining tendrils led to the top level of the atrium. John threw his rifle onto that level and shimmied up the tendril, which was shuddering to hold half of the Thorian’s weight.



On the top level, John grabbed his assault rifle and fired on the ‘root’ he’d just climbed across. The tendril’s hold on the wall was so tenuous, it took only a few rounds for the mass to shear away from the wall, ripping the final ‘root’ out of socket, and allowing the Thorian to fall below.



Shepard wasn’t sure if his ploy would work, but it was confirmed as the hundred or so Creepers that were charging him dropped lifelessly to the ground. He sighed slowly, but was startled by a sound coming from behind. He turned to see an asari, identical to the others except her skin was a vibrant violet, fall to the ground and stand slowly...



* * * * *



John stiffly strode out into the air of Zhu’s Hope, clad in his armor once more. He was covered in fetid fluids--both over and under his armor--and he bore a grim look on his face. Joker called to him triumphantly over the radio, and Shepard boarded the Normandy, already sorting his thoughts for a debriefing.