This is porn. Rather depraved if I am to be completely honest. The fact that Benezia and Liara are both involved should have clued you in on that. If that is a problem for you, then just click the back button and be done with it. No trouble for anyone.

If you don't have a problem with that, then feel free to continue on down and enjoy what I offer you today: A tale of a galaxy where John Shepard is a great and skilled warrior who seeks to claim his prize after emerging victorious from a deadly tournament. In this case, the prize is sex with a princess. Though, knowing Shepard, one asari just isn't enough. If he's going to have the Princess, why not have the Empress and her advisor as well?

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It was when he was half-way up the temple stairs that John regretted making the choice to carry the body along. Turians were not particularly heavy, having next to no body fat under those plates and all, but the scared temple was in no way small and had plenty of steps to climb. He should have known that it would eventually become tiring for him.

The metallic plates chafed the human's bare shoulders as he forced himself to move onward and upward to the sacred bedchambers at the top of the temple, where his prize awaited him. With each step he took, the body seemed to get heavier and he, a little weaker.

John had half a mind to just let the corpse go, to let it go tumbling down the steps, all the way down to the base of the temple amidst the horde of Aramali citizens.

But down below, the crowd, the asari that gathered in the city square to watch the fighting, roared, cheering for him.

He was their victor, their champion, and the turian he carried on his back was nothing but a dishonorable worm. The crowd wanted to see the cunt get what he deserved at the hands of his better, even if he was already a cold corpse. They wanted John to make a show of it, high up on the smooth, stone steps of their temple, so all below could bear witness.

And John had always been a crowd pleaser…

Finally, the human warrior reached a spot he felt appropriate, next to two lovingly carved statues of the asari goddess, Athame, her hands placed gracefully over each other, across her ample chest, flush against her skin. It seemed a high enough place to the human, a spot where all below could see him just fine.

With a grunt, John had the body off of his aching shoulders, the turian hitting the stone steps with a thud. Empty eyes stared back up at him, the silver skin now noticeably paler.

John drew a dagger he kept strapped to his belt, one with razor teeth along one edge of its straight blade. Hefting the corpse into a more manageable position, the human brought the knife to its exposed neck. The crowd below saw this and grew louder, crying out for blood.

John obliged.

His shoulder ached and his muscles tensed as he worked his arm back and forth, sawing through dead flesh until the dagger grated on bone. Cobalt blue spilled out over his hands, streams of cool turian blood trickling down the pearly white stone steps of the Sacred Temple of Aramali.

When he found that the blade could not work through bone, John took the head in his hands and gripped it tight. He jerked and twisted until there was a gut-wrenching 'pop', before resuming his butchering with the jagged-edged dagger. Both of his hands were drenched in blue now, dark blue –almost black-, with his front smeared as well, his bear-pelt clothing soaking up turian blood.

He stopped cutting when the head only remained attached by a small bit of flesh, tendons and skin bridging the neck to the body. John stood up, placing himself two steps above the corpse, holding it by the fringe and placing his boot on its shoulder, his knee bent.

The crowd, the wind, the birds, they all went silent as John blocked them out, only able to hear himself breathe.

John raised his boot…

…And slammed it back down on the body's shoulder, full force. There was a wet 'snap' and small spray of blue. They body fell free, rolling down the temple stairs, end over end.

John raised one blood-stained hand up high, presenting the crowd below with the severed head of the treacherous and cheating Saren Arterius. He had it by the fringe, the jaw and mandibles pulled down by gravity into an expression that would befit a fool of the royal court.

The crowd's roar of approval was deafening.

Saren had been the last opponent John faced, the only one left that had stood between the human and the prize that so many had come to claim. Warriors from all over travelled to Aramali for the chance at the bountiful reward promised to the victor. They would fight each other to the death until only one remained standing, one champion above the rest.

But the fights were to be honor-bound, based on skill and skill alone. No tricks permitted whatsoever. It was the only rule the tournament had. Saren had broken that rule when he decided to use blades laced with disorienting poison. So long as he was able to draw blood with his weapons, any fight would be his.

But John had always been watching, noticing how suspicious Saren's fights had been, how his opponents seemed to tire out moments after taking a blow from the turian's weapons. John had gotten lucky in his duel with the bastard: Saren's blade was never able to meet flesh before the human disarmed him. For once, the warrior had been too fast for the trickster.

John gave Saren's blades to an asari herbalist who was able to confirm that the bastard had, in fact, laced his swords with poison. Upon the revelation, the crowd that gathered in the city square began cursing the turian, throwing stones and insults his way, and cheered when John thrust Saren's own sword into his heart and twisted.

There would most likely be some who would say that what John did to Saren was too severe. John, on the other hand, thought it to be too good for the fork-headed cunt. At least Saren was dead before the human started to hack away at his corpse. Saren gave his opponents no such courtesy.

With a satisfied snort, the Champion of Aramali turned and started up the stairs of the temple once more, the cheers of the crowd driving every step.

His worthy opponents lay dead, honorably burned and placed within holy urns by their asari hosts, and the conniving rat, Arterius, had been dealt with appropriately.

John stood victorious and now all that remained was for the human to reach the bedchambers and claim his prize: The High Empress' maiden daughter, at least for the night.

The tired warrior smirked at the thought. For one night, the lowly human swordsman, John Shepard, would be treated like a king, with all the sweet asari wine he could drink, more gold than he could possibly carry, and the blessing of the asari people and their beloved Empress to lay with the heiress to the throne.

Highborn women were always alluring to John, so superior and unattainable, adorned with colorful, flattering dresses that he wished he could just tear off of them. Now, he was going off to fuck one. That little fact brought forth a surge of excitement in the human, his gut coming alive of its own accord. John's heart was racing, beating against his chest as hard as krogan war drums.

Though that may just be from the fights I won. Killing always had a sense of urgency to it.

As he grew closer to the top of the enormous stone structure, John made sure to toss the turian's head behind him, savoring the wet smacks it made as it impacted each step. The crowd seemed to love that, loudly vocalizing their massive approval.

He had heard that the Empress and her daughter were of the "classy and proper" sort. "Royalty, through and through", as a couple spectators had told him.

Blood, such as his drenched hands and stained front, they would be able to handle. But a severed head…?

That would just kill the mood.

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"More wine, Milady?" asked one of the handmaidens.

Empress Benezia T'Soni nodded, holding out her silver chalice to be filled. She watched as deep red flowed down from the bottle and into her cup, filling it almost to the brim. Brining her cup to her lips and taking a sip, the millennia-old asari could not help but stare as the servant girl walked away, the Matriarch's eyes glued to the maiden's superbly shaped rear.

While Shiala had a rather odd skin tone, there was no denying that the girl kept herself in excellent shape. This was a fact made quite clear by her shear silk dress, an outfit with material so thin that it was nearly transparent and clung to the green beauty's voluptuous body due to the humidity in the air.

As Shiala disappeared through velvet curtains into the next room, Benezia took a moment to relax. The elder asari hummed as she shifted into a more comfortable position on the large, circular bed, the silk sheets feeling heavenly on her skin.

The Matriarch's eyes darted to the large entryway across the room as the sound of the crowd's roars reached her ears. The wind carried their cheers throughout the royal bedchambers, the candles placed throughout the room flickering slightly. The dark purple curtains that acted as a barrier between the bedchambers and the outside billowed in the breeze.

We have a champion, it seems. One the people love, by the sound of it. It is only a matter of time before he or she enters through those very curtains.

"Mother," A soft voice said, pulling the Empress from her thoughts. "The people are cheering. Is it over already?"

Benezia lowered her eyes from the flowing curtains to her young maiden daughter who lay sprawled on the bed before her. Princess Liara T'Soni gazed at her mother with innocent, shining eyes, the candle light dancing across her flawless blue skin.

Like her mother, Liara wore a tiny dress made of lily-white silk that complimented her skin tone quite well, the thin material hugging her body on ways that left little to the imagination. The girl's back was left completely bare and barely concealed by the impossibly delicate outfit where what the Empress knew to be a pair of fine breasts, ones almost as impressive as her own, being particularly round, perky and soft.

Anyone who would refuse my daughter would be either blind or an idiot, Benezia thought with pride, managing a warm smile.

"Yes, Liara, it is over. Now all that is left to be done is the bedding ceremony. We'll just have to wait until Aramali's Champion climbs the steps."

Which may take a while. This temple is rather large…

Liara nodded, biting her lip as her eyes turned to the curtains separating the bedchamber from the outside. Benezia took a glance for herself, noting that it was nearly sundown, the setting sun visible through the material.

"It was a short tournament this time. Only three days. The previous ones were said to have lasted weeks!" Benezia commented, taking another sip of her sweet thessian wine.

The Empress leaned back into a soft pillow, her watchful eyes catching her daughter playing with the hem of her small dress, running the fine fabric between her thin fingers as if it were the most interesting thing in the whole world. The elder pursed her dark lips.

"Are you nervous, darling?"

Liara released the silk from her hands instantly, like the material had been made of fire, her fingers curling into a tiny, delicate fist. Benezia could see that her daughter's cheeks had turned a few shades darker, almost purple now, and even with the young asari avoiding her mother's gaze, the Empress knew that those blue orbs held a look of embarrassment. The Matriarch thought it to be nonsense, setting her chalice down to listen.

"What if… what if I offend the Champion, mother? What if I embarrass myself or-or what if I do something that the Champion thinks is disgusting, or…" Liara frowned, worried as a nervous young princess would be. Then the maiden's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "What if the Champion does not desire me, mother? What if I'm not pretty enough or I'm not-"

Benezia silenced her daughter by pressing a finger gently to her lips. The Empress gave her princess a warm, loving smile.

"Hush, Little Wing," Benezia soothed. "No one could ever possibly think that. Do you want to know why, dear?"

Liara gave a tiny, barely noticeable nod, again biting her lip. Even at over a century old, the Empress's daughter was still able to surprise others with her purity, her innocence.

"Come to me, my princess." Benezia instructed, beckoning her daughter over to her.

After a little hesitation, the maiden slowly crawled across the silk sheets, holding her mother's gaze as she did. The Empress noted how Liara movements were smooth, akin to those of a feline, elegant and… distracting with the way they seemed to emphasize the curves of her body. The Matriarch did not know whether her daughter was doing it intentionally or not.

When young Liara was within reach, Benezia grabbed her by the waist and, with a surprising show of strength, pulled her over the rest of the way and set her daughter down on her lap. With a surprised squeal, Liara instinctively wrapped her legs around her mother's waist, her hands going to Benezia's shoulders for support.

In this position, their bodies were pressed close together, warm and soft. Benezia looked up and Liara looked down, both realizing their faces were mere inches apart. The Empress could feel the Princess's hot breath on her skin as she lowered her eyes to watch her daughter's ample chest rise and fall. The sight of large, heaving breasts was almost enough to mesmerize the Matriarch, but the elder asari was able to tear her eyes way from the maiden's bosom to meet Liara's gaze.

"No one could think you ugly, my sweet Liara."

Benezia's hands found themselves on her daughter's legs, slowly running up her thighs, feeling the smooth, delicate skin of a maiden in her prime. When she reached the hem of her daughter's dress, Benezia slipped her fingers under the fabric and her hands continued on their way, disappearing beneath white silk.

"How could they find you anything but beautiful when you have such a nice waist? Turians, they love their waists and yours has such a curve to it, hypnotic almost. A wonderful pair of birthing hips! You'd set tongues wagging all throughout the Hierarchy, my sweet daughter."

Liara's breathing was growing heavier, her eyes glossing over as her mother's hands continued to roam her pert body, warm, loving hands that sent shivers down the maiden's spine.

"Mother…" the princess breathe out, low and husky of voice.

Benezia continued her exploration, her soft touch moving to her daughter's flat tummy, where she rubbed in slow soothing circles, her movements visible under white silk. Her hands moved to Liara's back as well, feathering touches on the younger asari's delicate skin. Up and down, Benezia's hands slowly travelled on her daughter's nubile body, on her front and back, stopping just above the girl's plump rear and just below the sensitive, round globes.

The Princess started to hum at her mother's touch, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of the maiden's mouth.

"Flawless skin is something anyone would find attractive, salarians in particular. You are just a beautiful shade of blue. Did you know that, Liara?"

"Hmmm… Mother…"

The Empress's hands then reached down and cupped her daughter's rear, each hand palming a cheek and taking a generous squeeze. Her daughter squeaked, eyes going wide.

"Humans are known to appreciate a nice, firm backside. Yours will more than suffice."

Then Benezia raised her hands up high, bringing the tiny silk dress with them. Liara, being the obedient daughter she was, raised her hands as well, allowing the outfit to slide up and off of her, exposing herself completely. The Empress tossed the silk thing away as if it were an annoyance, the dress landing in a dark corner, already forgotten.

The Matriarch immediately turned her gaze onto the magnificent pair of breasts that she had just freed, her hungry eyes drinking up the sight of blue, supple globes of soft flesh, sensitive and aching for her touch. To her delight, the nipples had already hardened into tight little buds, just ready to be sucked.

Benezia reached out and palmed a breast, feeling it her hand for a moment before gently squeezing. Liara's breath caught in her throat and the she arched her back as her mother ran a thumb over the nipple, kneading the soft mound.

"And let us not forget about these, sweet Liara. Have I told you how lovely your bosom is, my Princess? Perfectly round globes, soft like a newborn's skin. Nice and perky," Benezia breathed into her daughter's chest as each of her hands found themselves a mound to play with. "Do you know how envy yours draw from other asari? You're only a maiden and these are almost as large as mine! Goddess, you have the breasts of a mother, Liara! So full and rounded! Made for nurturing…"

Benezia wasted not a second. The Empress dipped her head down to her daughter's chest and in an instant, a breast found its way into the Matriarch's mouth.

"Mother!"

Liara's eyes fluttered shut as she flung her head back, but her mouth still hung agape, the only expression the maiden was able to muster with her mother swiping her wet tongue over her nipple. The young asari's hands went to her mother's head, cradling it as the Empress's mouth lavished her ample breasts. As Benezia ran her long tongue over Liara's right breast, paying particular attention to the nipple, her hand went the other, groping it with her fingers until her daughter started to moan.

"Hmm! Y-yes!"

As Benezia sucked upon her daughter's ample bosom, the maiden began to grind herself against her mother, the Matriarch taking note of the growing dampness between Liara's legs as her petals brushed against her thighs.

The Empress buried her face in the Princess's soft mounds, placing soft, loving kisses in the valley between her daughter's breasts before turning her attention to the one that had yet to been in her mouth. Benezia swirled her tongue over the nipple, drawing a moan from her daughter, before her lips closed around it, her cheeks hollowing.

All the while, neither the Empress nor the Princess noticed that they were being watched from someone lurking in the shadows of the royal bedchambers, someone they did not realize had entered. As a mother's lips and tongue ran over a daughter's body, gray eyes watched intently, waiting for the right moment…

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Note: I wrote most of this chapter while listening to "The Rains of Castamere" from the Game of Thrones OST. Nothing better to get in mood for writing about incest than the Lannisters' theme!

Also, Saren gets beheaded because fuck Saren. The guy is a sadist, racist jackass who has a disturbing number of fangirls for the number of atrocities he has committed in the Mass Effect universe.

See you until next time!