Mass Effect: Twisted Indigo - 1 (Patreon)

AN: Just a quick warning that this story will include sexual acts between a mother/daughter pairing.

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Blueshift.

The holo-sign glowed as brilliant indigo against the dark metal walls of the skyscraper. The stylized lettering appeared as English text thanks to the real-time translation software on Rafe’s omni-tool. Just one of the many perks that came with being employed by the T’Losa firm.

But the biggest and juiciest perk was the one Rafe was about to put into use. Straightening out his outfit one last time, the human steeled his nerves and approached the nightclub entrance.

Moving briskly and with purposeful, confident steps, Rafe passed the ever-growing line of would-be partiers without a second look. No, his eyes were instead fixated on the animated holo display beside the club’s sign. A feminine silhouette danced slowly, sensually. All lithe limbs and ample curves, twisting and swaying high up on the building wall. She was a siren beckoning Rafe to come join her in the pulsing depths of her domain.

Yeah, Blueshift was that kind of club. Or so Rafe heard. This establishment, like many others, put skin on display for viewing enjoyment. And if the rumors were true, they did that and a whole lot more. This was Illium, after all. The people of this world liked to go the extra mile for their risque entertainment and none did that better than the asari.

Just one of many reasons why colony-bumpkin Rafe Thomas was eager to cash in on this particular work-perk.

The spirited human lad climbed the steps to the front doors but a batarian bouncer halted him before he could reach the top. It was a male of his species - the most common representation of his kind outside of their homeworld - and he wore high-end light armor and an unmistakable scowl. Even on Illium, humans and batarians didn’t get on that well.

“Back of the line, human.” The bouncer spoke with a rough voice, typical for his species. “You can wait to get in just like everyone else.”

Maybe the bouncer enjoyed putting humans in their place. Or maybe he was just a guy doing his job. Either way, Rafe was in too good of a mood to drop the smirk from his face.

“I work security for the T’Losa firm.” Rafe said to the alien bouncer. The batarian blinked with all four of his glassy black eyes, his face unreadable. Rafe continued, grinning, “Her employees get free access to the clubs here. She owns the whole building.”

“I know who owns the building, human.” The bouncer snarked. He gave Rafe a once-over, likely sizing him up. The batarian seemed to consider Rafe’s words for a moment before speaking again. “You have any company ID on you?”

Rafe raised his arm, his omni-tool blinking to life. A small holo-screen projected from the device on his wrist, displaying his company credentials: Thomas, Rafe. Security Officer for T’Losa Investments.

The batarians narrowed his eyes - both sets of them - taking a moment to carefully scan the ID. Then he nodded, frowning.

“Fine.” The alien gruffly relented, taking a step aside to let Rafe pass by. “A couple rules, though: Don’t start fights. Don’t touch the girls - unless you’ve paid them for it. And if you pass out, club management isn’t responsible for any missing belongings.”

“Got it,” Rafe closed his omni-tool and flashed a toothy smile. The batarian did not return it. “I’ll be careful.”

“I’m sure.” The bouncer said flatly.

Ignoring him, Rafe advanced on the front doors. Excitement pulsed through his veins, each step taking him closer and closer to the threshold - the final barrier between the regular, outside world and the delights that awaited him inside.

---

It was ten minutes to showtime. Celene was nervous, a common experience throughout her centuries of dancing. But the asari matron also felt a thrill. It was a splendid buzz that shimmered across her skin, through her nerves and veins and into the pit of her belly.

Celene was a performer. She loved showing off for cheering crowds. On Thessia. On Omega. Now, she was here on Illium. A world where “anything goes” so long as one had the right paperwork. Tonight, Celene Risala was going to test that. Together with her dancing partner she was going to show the patrons of Blueshift a more deviant side of asari eroticism.

The matron was supremely confident in her skills as a dancer. Her taste in fashion, on the other hand…

Celene pursed her lips, regarding her reflection in the changing room mirror. She had decided to try on some human garb for tonight. Human lingerie, specifically. Lace stockings, panties, arm-length sleeves, and a corset. All of the pieces were the same deep black, creating a lovely contrast with her rich, blue skin. The corset in particular had a marvelous effect on Celene’s already impressive bosom, giving her a delicious valley of cleavage that put some matriarchs to shame.

It should have made Celene feel like a goddess-made-flesh. But somehow, the matron felt that the outfit was… A bit much.

But then Celene felt a soft pair of lips at the back of her neck. Next came the touch of gentle but devious fingers at her flanks. Familiar hands rose and linked together above Celene’s belly. Another kiss came to her neck, followed by a lovely giggle from a silvery voice.

Cerise had always been generous with her touchy affections, Celene noted with a warm, loving smile. It was just another thing for a mother to be proud of.

“You look nice.” Cerise Risala chirped, humming pleasantly as she rested her chin on Celene’s bare shoulder.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” Celene inquired, pouting as she wiggled mock-defiantly in her daughter’s embrace. Her large breasts strained against the corset, blue swells rising but not quite spilling out the top. More than enough to send tongues wagging, Celene quietly mused. Humans, it seemed, were almost as adept at presentation as the asari. Almost.

“It’s not enough in my opinion.” Cerise purred, her fingers gliding slowly, sensually across the thin band of exposed skin of Celene’s belly. Cerise’s fingertips danced dangerously close to the waistline of her mother’s black panties. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be wearing anything at all.”

“Oh, ha.” Celene squirmed out of her daughter’s arms, turning to face the ardent maiden. “I’m serious, love. Look at me! I’m spilling out of this thing. It’s just so… Bovine. Doesn’t it seem a bit vulgar to you?”

Cerise gave a low, throaty chuckle. The younger woman shook her head incredulously, crossing her arms beneath her bare breasts. Unlike her mother, the daring maiden had chosen to go topless for their performance. She had always been the more provocative of the pair. And if her behavior didn’t prove that, then her body did. Dark blue nipples, already hard at the mere prospect of her dear mother performing in the buff. Cerise’s lips, just as full as her mothers, curled into a devious smirk. She leered at her mother with sultry eyes.

“Mother…” Cerise began, strutting forth. She took slow, deliberate steps, not unlike a stalking predator. Celene breathed in deeply through her nose, another delightful thrill pulsing through her body as the huntress advanced upon her. On impulse, the matron was on the back-step - until she felt the edge of the dressing room table bite into the soft flesh of her buttocks. With nowhere to run, Cerise closed the distance between her and her prey. Celene could feel the girl’s hot breath on her skin as her daughter teasingly ran her fingers across the prominent upper swells of her constrained breasts. “All of those people waiting out in the club… They came here to watch me fuck you. I think ‘vulgar’ is perfect. I think you look perfect.”

“Truly?” Celene almost stuttered, her cheeks flushed a dark blue. Only Cerise could get her so worked up.

“Mmhmm,” Cerise hummed, her arms slithering around Celene’s waist once more, soft fingertips grazing across bare skin. Celene had met a scant few people in her centuries of life who had a touch as electric as her own daughter. The little vixen darted forward and planted a soft kiss to the corner of Celene’s mouth, and then another, longer kiss right on her lips. The maiden murmured sensually against her mother’s mouth, the girl’s hot, needy breath sending a shiver down the matron’s spine. “Six hundred years old and you can still drive a maiden wild, mother.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling.” Celene sighed, stealing a kiss of her own. Cerise giggled into her mouth, moaning softly.

The younger asari pulled away then, putting on a dazzling smile. Cerise gave a pointed glance towards the holo-clock on the wall.

“You and I are going to look fabulous.”

Celene nodded, understanding. Showtime.