”Damn it, EDI! I am NOT Commander Shepard. I am Cerberus Operative Miranda Lawson!” you snap irritably. ”And it's pretty obvious to everybody that I am a woman!”
”My apologies, Officer Lawson, there seems to be a mixup of your identification algorithms," the artificial but pleasantly feminine and cordial voice of the ship's computer answers. "But I have corrected the error now and it should not occur again,” it continues.
”Good,” you say, still a bit irritated. ”So what do you want EDI?” you continue.
”The Illusive Man is waiting for you in the communication room,” EDI says. ”He urgently requests your presence”.
"Affirmative, I'll be there in a minute!”
You leave your your executive officer's office and enter the main area of the crew's quarters. As you continue towards the elevator you pass a group of low-ranking crewmen, gathered around a table, playing cards. They paus the game to salute you, but as you pass, your enhanced senses register their leering eyes all over your body and their exchange of meaning looks.
And when they think you're out of hearing range you can hear them laugh.
”Fuck, just look at that! That's what I call a huge field of ass effect!" someone chuckles.
"Hahaha, good one!" anther man laughs. "A pity she's such a prissy bitch though, but I bet that deep down, she's sluttier than a drunk asari whore!"
"Yeah, I've heard that Operative Tyler used to bang her, that lucky bastard!"
You quickly enter the elevator with blushing cheeks.
The last few weeks of calm inactivity before the storm aboard the Normandy SR-2 has left the crew restless, thus releasing a surge of aggressive sexual energy.
Your genetically engineered body has always had a certain effect on men, but lately the gawking has gotten out of control, with downright sexual harassment like degrading nicknames and remarks and even the occasional and rough groping and pinching. At first you tried to reprimand the men but quickly found that only made things worse.
”I must have a another word with Commander Shepard about protocol and discipline,” you mutter to yourself.
But the crew are not the only ones that has been restless and on edgde lately. As the days pass you find yourself increasingly sexually frustrated. Feverish wet dreams haunt your sleep and even if you don't want to admit it to yourself, you find yourself strangly aroused by the crew members bawdy behaviour towards you. You can't help showing off and flaunting your buxom body and tossing your lustrous black hair in front of them, involuntarily teasing and encouraging them.
Especially in vicinity of Commander Shepard.
You have developed a kind of love-hate resentment towards Shepard. Sure, the two of you been through some tough battles together and he is both a courageous fighter and a brilliant commander. But at the same time he's audacious and rude and you doubt his loyalty towards Cerberus and you. And you can see how he looks at you, with that same voracious glint as the crew. Sometimes you don't know whether you want to punch that handsome bastard in the face or to kiss him passionately. That is not at all your usual cool and rational way of thinking and it makes you annoyed.
Annoyed, and very horny.
Your hand involuntarily brushes down your curves reaching your crotch, gently rubbing against your pussy and feeling the dampness rising through the smooth material of your special operative issue suit. A soft moan escapes your parted lips. Oh god, you just want to get out of that tight suit and fuck yourself!
The elvevator ride is almost over and you snap out of it. ”Stay focused, Miranda, be a professional!” you say to yourself.
You leave the elevator and enter the communication room. The hologram of the Illusive Man materializes in front of you. As always you shiver slightly as he rivets his icy blue eyes on you.
”Miranda, I have a mission for you,” he says. |