#vakarian

“Where is the paperwork for that bombing on the bridge?” Castis thumbs through scores of files on his terminal monitor, scrolling incessantly. “And has anyone sent over the zoning permits for the memorial?”

“You have enough on your plate.” You attempt to ease the oppressive duties that pester him, offering to take them over. “Why don’t you let me handle that?”

“I don’t need it to be perfect; I just need it to be done.” He rolls his eyes at your suggestion. “We cannot afford to waste time.”

“What are you saying?” You ask, slightly offended by his remark.

“I am saying that your method of filing leaves far too much margin for unnecessary focus on remedial details.” He tells you while continuing to scroll. “That level of efficiency is not required at this time.”

“I don’t think it’s remedial to honor the dead and their families amidst a terrorist tragedy.” You quip back at him, unclear in his motives. “Isn’t that what the community expects of this precinct?”

“We have countless items on the itinerary. You let me worry about what the community expects.” He explains, his eyes still glued to the terminal. “Spending longer than we need on any one of them will throw us off for the rest of the quarter.”

“But you’re the one who’s always saying, ‘Never submit a report without dotting your I’s and crossing your T’s! ’ Am I just supposed to make an exception just to get these off your workload?” You counter, pulling up the files in question on your own personal tablet.

“Yes!” He sharply utters the word with a slam of his palm on the desk, his patience wearing thin. “Send me the damn files already!”

You think about biting your tongue, but you let the venom of opposition escape your lips. “Geeze! Take a chill pill, Dad!”

The air in the room takes a static pause. You can feel his beady eyes glaring at you from behind his desk. With your back turned, you hear the familiar rolling of his chair against the floor, moving out of the way as he stands tall. “ What … did you just call me?”

“I-I mean, if you’re going to bark orders at me like that, that’s what I’m going to call you.” You slightly stutter, your nervousness rising to the surface, but you quell it with a confident rebuttal. “Or would you prefer Daddy? Maybe... Daddy Castis?”

He flashes a look at you, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s out of baffled amusement or rage. He advances towards you, and for a minute there, you assume he’s going to show you out, fire you, or order security to remove you for your insolence. With your back still turned to him, you can feel his presence close in fast. He stands directly behind you, the broadness of his chest slightly touching your shoulder blades as he breathes heavily down your neck.

He still doesn’t answer, but the tension has got to give, so you fill that vocal void with another antagonizing remark to see if this does the trick. “What’s the matter? Are your ears going out, old man?”

He cannot move. There is no response. If he could sweat, you’re certain he’d be spilling bullets by now. He’s never been more awestruck than this moment. Alone. In his office. With you.

Anything could happen here, and no one would know. The opaque panes of glass act as the only barrier between you and the formal demands of bureaucracy. Castis’ breath shudders as it escapes him, falling hotly against your back. It tickles, and your slight giggle nearly sends him to the stratosphere. You can tell he’s smitten with you, and he knows that you know, despite no words having been spoken on the matter. How dare you tease him like this? 

The front of his uniform pants grows increasingly constrictive. For so long, he’s prided himself on ignoring the glorious distractions you provide in his line of work. Your specific scent of perfume follows you like a cloud of nectar everywhere you go. It even lingers in rooms you’ve been in, reminding him of you when you’ve long since left. How can he hope to concentrate when you’re calling to his senses so constantly?

The little things react astronomically to his heart. The first time he saw the outline of your shapewear peeking through your dress, he nearly fainted. Of course, you assume that your silhouette is as smooth as possible with no undergarment disruptions, but when you lean over to pass him a stack of files or a mug of coffee. He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the seams of your panties and brassiere for weeks.

This is just another thing for him to get used to, right? The remarks started as fun and games, but you would never admit that there is a method to your madness. Like you were maybe… somehow… coaxing something out of him.

He’s impulsive. Anxious. Frozen as if he’s not sure what he wants to do. Either way, the breathing down your neck is sending chills down your spine. His sense of self-control is waning. He’s twitching subtly, jerking his taloned fingers about as if trying to ignore the want to grip you as hard as he can by the hips.

“Say it again…” He whispers into your ear, his jaw slowly dipping down to hang about the side of your face.

“Daddy Castis  …” You pause to crane your head back and look at him, watching the glimmer in his eye when you say it. He doesn’t expect you to go the extra mile and rub the crest of your ass against the massive package bulging in his slacks. “Stop being so mean to me.”

It is at this moment that he sees what you’re doing. He’s fallen directly into the trap you’ve laid, but he praises your ingenuity more than anything. He is no longer annoyed, angered or aggravated. He is impressed, proud, and most of all, horny .

You understand the nuance in what Castis needs. Of course, you are there to keep records in line, set up meetings, ensure he attends said meetings, and otherwise make his job easier. Nowhere in your contract does it say that this falls under those requirements, but this improvisational tweak to your daily duties is what makes the daily grind all the more gratifying.

Castis lifts the hem of your skirt, slowly dragging the fabric against your plush thighs. He is careful not to rip your clothing with his lengthy talons, allowing your supple flesh to spill out of the confines of the shapewear.

He recognizes that you treat this shapewear like he would any other piece of his uniform. It is a vital part of your working ensemble, but he would be lying if he said he isn’t absolutely obsessed with the curvature of your hips and the fullness of your stomach. You are strong and sturdy in his grasp, while still being so delicate and small in comparison to his turian biology. The thrum of his heart beats against your spine, powerful enough to be detected even through his abrasive exterior. 

There is a timid hesitance in his movements, as if he cannot fathom being here with you while committing himself to the perpetuity of carnal desire. And yet, the longer he draws this out, the more he realizes he cannot stop, no matter how desperately he tries to control himself. 

He slips his hand along the front of you, his palm skating up your bare skin from your thighs to your chest, catching all the best erogenous zones with a slight touch as he passes. He grabs hold of your neck, lifting your jaw to look at him. He searches for approval in your eyes, but their mischievous twinkle tells him everything he needs to know. 

With his free hand, he pulls his rigid length out of his slacks, the long pillar of warmth prodding you from behind. With a yank on the waistband of your panties, he pulls them down so that they drop to the floor. He slips himself between your legs, dragging along your entrance to soak up all your lovely juices that come leaking out of you. He gruffly moans into a fervent kiss, his rough mandibles moving in tandem with your lips.

“I thought you said you didn’t have time for anything.” You interrupt the kiss with this question, and Castis replies all the while continuing between every couple words. “Is Daddy’s schedule opening up?”

“You reminded me - smooch - that there’s always time - smooch - to show my appreciation.” As he speaks, he starts rocking his hips back and forth. The bulbous ridges and segments of his turian cock grind along your clit while passing over your entrance repeatedly. Castis maneuvers his roaming hand between your legs as well, applying gracious pressure to your most sensitive spot. “Now… Don’t stop calling me that.”

He has you on a steady build-up of pleasure, powerfully thrusting himself between your legs while chasing one of the most euphoric climaxes you’ve ever had the fortune of experiencing. He swirls his thick index digit hard against the bud, fast and rigorous. With each drag and pull of his hand against you, he pushes you towards that glorious end. “Daddy… You’re making me feel so gooood.”

The fluttering electricity causes you to spasm wildly in his grasp, but he anchors you to his body. You moan wildly, disrupting his pinhole ears with your siren song. “Don’t stop, Daddy! Unffff… please!”

Your wish is his command as he takes you for not just one, or two, but a continuous engagement of rapture of never-ending ecstasy. You can hardly hold yourself upright as your knees begin to buckle, but Castis keeps you right where you are, bearing all your weight like it’s nothing. 

Though, soon enough, you realize you might have bitten off more than you could chew. He does as you asked. He’s not stopping, He hasn’t stopped since you uttered that command. Here he is now, treating it as law. Adding to the bliss, he chomps down on your neck, dousing you in a flame of completely new sensations.

A scream builds within you, and just as you’re about to let it out, Castis covers your mouth, muting the shrill cry with his massive mit. Your head collides with the hard exterior of his shoulder as he assertively blocks you from making any more noise. Just as he does this, a foggy figure passes by the opaque walls that seal you in, and you are cautioned against letting anyone in the vicinity know just how dastardly the deeds you are performing in his office.

A timid knock befalls the opposite side of the door. Your thighs clench as Castis pauses his fervent thrusting, constricting tightly around his throbbing length. You both hold your breath in anticipation, hoping that whoever is at the door will just take the hint he’s not in and leave already.

At long last, the figure departs, and Castis heaves a sigh of relief, resuming his once stagnant thrusts submerged in the soaked slickness gathering down below. It’s as if this mysterious departure awakened the sinful awareness that you both are absolutely surrounded by personnel. They are none the wiser, oblivious to the wicked adventures you and Castis get up to. 

With some thoughtful maneuvering, Castis lowers himself at a more reasonable angle; one that points the tip of his cock directly at your entrance. Knowing you have a tendency to be vocal, Castis keeps his hands covering your mouth, clamping down hard as he slowly impales you from behind.

Each notch along the shaft of his cock is shoved into you at a noticeably dispersed pace. You overcome each one as it passes, exceedingly larger than the last. The stretch ignites you from the inside out, burning so hotly as he pushes himself inside. 

As this initial breach, you can hear him whine into your ear as he keeps his hand tightly sealed over your mouth. The exasperated breaths clouding your face carry a scent of assorted hard candies you placed in a bowl on his desk. He tends to chew them by the handful when he’s agitated. You love watching him reach for an amalgamation of flavors, chewing them with purpose until they disappear on his tongue only to repeat the process. You tried telling him once that they are meant to be savored, that he should take his time getting to the sweet sherbet in the middle of each one, but his turian taste buds are a little more demanding than he would care to admit.

The tips of your feet don’t even touch the ground anymore. Castis has his arms coiled so securely around you, there’s no way you’re going anywhere but sliding up and down his cock. With your mouth still suffering a blockage, you take whatever breath you can through your nostrils. Muffled cries are peppered lightly over the area’s idle clamor of doors opening or closing and footsteps traversing from one room to another. Castis punctuates them with his repetitive rutting and grunting, gaining speed as he opens you up more and more. 

You daringly lick his palm, slathering it in your saliva. Castis is slightly startled by this, removing his hand from your mouth at once. He glares at you curiously but manages to understand what it is you are requesting after all.

His mouth latches onto yours. That sticky, candied taste on his tongue is transferred between you. You are each other’s muzzles, savoring each and every moan you both have to offer while simultaneously saving each other from untoward detection. 

Castis begins to really take in the smoothness of your human physique. You have no metallic plating, no fringe or fins. You couldn’t be further from opposites, and yet you are more compatible with him and any human you’ve ever met. You will not forsake this exchange. What you have with him is far too precious.

Castis sets you down, but only just enough so that your toes meet the ground. He begins fucking you with so much purpose, he pins both of your arms at your back while shoving his beak into your hair. Suddenly, you realize that something needs to be taken into account, where exactly this load is going to go. As much as it would please you to walk around with a hefty deposit of Castis come flooding your panties, you can’t risk any spillage making itself known to any prying eyes. 

The time has arrived, and you know just what to do. Castis fumbles with you in his grasp, his own joints buckling like yours were failing you before. He backs into his desk; grateful he has something to lean on. He lets out a series of quiet gasps, decorum falling so much he even whispers your name as he succumbs to the oncoming rapture. He slightly loses his footing, his cock following suit as it exits you with a sluggish and wavering drag. You bite your lip as he is fully removed, operating much to his surprise when he finds that you are lowering down to your knees. 

Castis impulsively begins to resolutely fist his cock, maintaining that inner elevation when he senses your absence, though the window doesn’t last long before you’re wrapping a different set of lips around his shaft.

Just as fervently as you kissed him, your mouth welcomes the tip of his cock, taking in each swollen section while you join him in the stroking. You lay both hands over the fist wrapped around his cock, assisting him in reaching that heavily anticipated finish. With each trace of your fingertips along the opening where his cock is protruding from, Castis convulses uncontrollably. 

Amidst the monumental combination of your swirling tongue and soft hands, he grips the edge of his desk roughly, the creaking of steel bending to his force influences you to go faster, taking more of him down your throat. This certainly does the trick as the torrid heat of your mouth has him shuddering where he stands.

“Is Daddy going to let me taste it?” You ask him after pulling your mouth off his cock, doubling down on the intake when you resume your sucking.

“Y-you can h-have whatever y-you want, s-sweethearrrrt…” His jaw hangs wide open as both eyes gloss over and roll to the back of his head. You can see the razor-sharp teeth that peek through the overlapped openings. His bottom mandibles chitter and flex and it almost looks like he wants to push you away in panic, but you remain steadfast and anchor yourself to him.

The first gushing squirt you take into your mouth tastes almost as sweet as the candies you get for him. You drink him up, sucking every shot of his come directly from the source. He clenches each time the involuntary action takes place, blindsided by your vigilance in making sure there is no mess to be detected. 

When all is said and done, you stand back up, straightening your outfit and smoothing the creases over with the exception of your panties. Those you choose to pluck from the floor and place into his back pocket as an improvised keepsake to fuel the depraved yearning between you. “I’ll go and get you the items you were asking for… Daddy Castis.”

His cock twitches at that moniker, thinking with a mind of its own when taken under your spell. He rushes to conceal himself once again, correcting the very apparent wardrobe malfunctions. With a sleek adjustment of his uniform, it’s as if this never even happened. “Ahem… d-do hurry back.”

“Of course.” You wink at him seductively before walking out the door, ready to face the public. "Back in a Jif, Daddy."

It is only after you leave that Castis notices the clarity bestowed unto him. His headache has gone, his focus is regained, and he is ready to take on anything that comes his way.

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