Mass Effect: Twisted Indigo - 2 (Patreon)

Blueshift, as Rafe discovered, was aptly named. It wasn’t simply due to the blue, flashing lights, colored as to evoke FTL with the mass relays. It also referred to the club clientele. There were asari as far as Rafe could see. The dance floor was a wild ocean of writhing, twisting blue bodies - with plenty of lush blue skin on display to boot! Yes, this place was definitely Rafe’s kind of nightclub.

But the eager human lad didn’t head straight for the dance floor. No, he needed to steel his nerves first, bolster his spirit with some liquid courage. He made his way over to one of the club’s bars instead, seeking out an alcove that appeared low on traffic. Rafe took his spot among the empty stools and ordered a glass of the cheapest levo-based beer they had. The salarian bartender gave him a short nod.

Rafe got his beer quickly enough, but before he even took a sip his attention was grabbed by one of the holo-sign displays installed right beside the bar. Like the chalkboards pubs would have back on Earth, the holo-sign advertised an assortment of special drinks… As well as the club’s special live performances. But these live shows weren’t bands or singers. No, they were much, much more titillating.

Rafe re-read the holo-sign once. Then twice. He blinked, thinking that perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him. But when he read the sign for the third time, the words remained unchanged.

Holy shit, Rafe thought. But… There’s no way… They’d never let them do that on stage…

He swiveled on his chair to face the salarian bartender, setting his drink down on the bar. He needed to get a straight answer from someone who worked at the club. Surely, the sign was a mistake.

“They actually have live sex shows here?” Rage almost had to shout over the music. He pointed towards the circular platform that dominated the center of the main dance floor. “As in right on that stage? In front of everyone?”

“On the stage. On the tables. Sometimes on the bar.” The salarian answered frankly, as if he had heard Rafe’s questions hundreds of times before. Though the alien sounded somewhat annoyed as he listed off that last point. Then he gave Rafe a wry smile. At least Rafe thought it was a smile. It was often difficult to read facial expressions on aliens that weren’t asari. “Tip one of the dancers enough and you can get yourself a private show in one of the booths.”

“Damn.” Rafe was shocked… And excited. He had heard that Blueshift was a nightclub with asari sensibilities. That was why he had been so eager to cash in on his employee benefits. But actual live sex shows? That was more lewd than Rafe had fantasized about. “And nobody has a problem with it?”

“Do you have a problem with it?” The salarian gave Rafe a pointed look.

“Nope. Not at all.” Rafe answered truthfully. What red-blooded man would say ‘no’ to watching a couple of asari dancers get down and dirty on stage? “I was talking about the authorities. Cops.”

“This isn’t the Citadel, human.” The bartender laughed. “This is Illium. The planet where asari go for fun.”

Rafe dwelled for a moment on what that implied. And he decided that what had been implied thrilled him considerably. He took a gulp of his beer then and found that it tasted flat, but he cared little. His blood was hot and singing in his veins and he hadn’t even enjoyed the touch of a woman yet.

He cast his eyes to the dance floor, taking in the brilliant sight of scantily-dressed asari twisting, twirling, and writhing together, against each other. And if they weren’t scantily-dressed then their nightclub attire was so tight and form-fitting that they may as well have been. A lustful sea of roaming hands, jiggling breasts, and quaking thighs.

The young security officer felt his heart thump in his chest. So too did he feel that pleasant buzz brought about by his alien beer. He took another look at the holo-sign advertising the sex show. It tempted club patrons with a live performance from a mother-daughter team. Surely, the incest couldn’t be real…

“But the mother-daughter thing, that’s just bullshit. It’s just an angle they’re playing to get the audience riled up. Right?” Rafe looked expectantly towards the salarian again. To the alien’s credit, he seemed patient enough with Rafe’s questions.

The salarian wore a small, knowing grin then. Even in the alien’s big, dark eyes, Rafe could see a flicker of humor… And pride.

“There’s no angle. There’s no bullshit. This place would get fined into the stone age for false advertising if that was the case.” The salarian’s grin spread wider across his narrow face. “I think you’re in for a hell of a show, human. On this planet, the asari are as dirty as they are beautiful.”

Rafe’s whole body thrummed with excitement. Or maybe that was just the beer. He turned his eyes back onto the main stage, eager for the lurid performance to begin. Above the stage on smaller floating platforms, near-nude asari and human women twisted and writhed provocatively for the club patrons’ viewing pleasure. A mere taste of what was soon to come…

“I guess I’ll see for myself soon enough.” He said to himself, taking another drink from his alien beer.

---

Celene felt disappointed that she couldn’t apply Cerise’s body paint herself. But the process was a messy one and her daughter had been adamant that Celene not ruin her corset get-up. Celene and Cerise were only supposed to be messy by the end of their act, her daughter had so dutifully reminded her.

On the bright side, Celene could at least find enjoyment in watching her lovely daughter prepare herself. It was a lovely sight indeed, her gorgeous Cerise getting rubbed down by a couple of her dancer friends - Celene would have to take some time to learn their names. Two flirty, kittenish maidens even younger than her beloved daughter, so willful and daring as they ran their hands up and down Cerise’s lithe body.

The two maidens made sure to be very thorough in their application of the body paint. Four delicate, slender hands roaming all over Cerise’s lush, athletic body. Over her taut belly, her shapely thighs, down her long, toned legs, even between her pert ass cheeks. They paid special attention to her daughter’s breasts, nimble fingers rubbing teasing circles atop Cerise’s pointed nipples. Celene watched rapt attention as her daughter let loose a string of lovely giggles, trembling so adorably under her friends’ daring touch.

All the while, Celene sat and watched, the matron’s heart and spirit alight with love and excitement. They hadn’t even set foot onto the stage yet and already Celene wanted to rid herself of her corset, so aching and needy her own breasts were. All because of Cerise and her youthful radiance. All because of her own daughter. That vigor of hers would be better spent unleashed in bed and in the throes of passion, Celene knew. Or rather, it was what Celene preferred.

Her daughter’s two maiden friends finished their painting task quickly enough. They stood on either side of Cerise, presenting to the matron the artwork that was her daughter. Giggling and with glee in her eyes, Cerise stepped forward gracefully on her heeled boots, her body smeared from neck to ankle with black, glittering paint. It was special, edible paint. All the better due to where Celene was going to put her mouth during their performance.

Cerise was nude save for her boots and a black c-string that sank between the swells of her ass. Her breasts, her belly, her thighs, all coated black and sparkling like a starfield in the night sky. An alluring, delicious sight for any being with a pulse.

“So mother… How do I look?” Cerise’s voice came like music, Celene’s maiden daughter biting her lip as she did a little twirl to show how all-encompassing the body paint was. Behind her, her two helpers gave mock applause, their eyes enjoying the show as much as Celene herself. The matron smirked, motherly pride blooming alongside her womanly desire.

“Like you’ll set tongues wagging for the next millennium, love.” Celene cooed, reaching out to draw her fingers oh so gently across the subtle swell of her daughter’s lower belly. She brought her fingertips back and found them glittering. The matron ran her tongue over them and hummed at the taste. The body paint was flavorless, but she knew the sweetness came from her daughter. Anything that graced Cerise’s sublime body had to be.

Celene would have pulled her daughter to the floor and devoured the little minx right then and there. Hell, she would have allowed her daughter’s two helpers to join in - such youthful eagerness was so delightful to enjoy in bed. But, as with most asari her age, Celene had learned the value of patience.

“You two are due on stage in five minutes.” A volus stage manager wheezed as she waddled into the dressing room. “Are you both ready?”

“Ready and willing.” Cerise gave such a dazzling smile then, her eyes so bright with passion and zeal that it took Celene’s breath away. Then she turned and gave her dearest mother a daring, hungry look. One that had Celene’s nerve’s singing.

Celene would enjoy Cerise’s intimate company in due time, the matron knew. But first they had to perform for Illium’s wild, horny masses. And Celene decided then, taking in her lovely daughter’s paint-smeared nudity, that they would give the patrons of Blueshift a show they would not soon forget.