Chapter Text
Shepard had a problem with trust. Being betrayed once too often had a way of doing that to you. She checked that her gun was by her bed and that her personal alarm system was correctly deployed.
Her one night stand had ended the way they usually do. It had been satisfactory enough, for an encounter between strangers. But as usual, she hadn't stayed. The thought of falling asleep next to someone – anyone – made something tighten inside her chest. The risk was unacceptable.
She was suffocating under the pressure. Of being a leader, of having every conversation turn on her contribution, every decision and every consequence laid at her door. She could handle it. But she'd handle it better if she could just have some time to herself.
It had taken her a while to ensure secrecy and safety, but she had worked out a way to relieve some of that stress. She hadn't been able to risk anything until Tali had come aboard and given her cabin a thorough counter-surveillance sweep. She trusted Tali that much. But Tali couldn't help her any more than that. That would put both of them at risk.
Shepard laid her equipment out on the bed. She could just imagine how Miranda Lawson, the spider at the center of the Cerberus web, would react if she could see this. Shepard would be in trouble. She imagined she'd find it very hard to refuse if Miranda ever approached her in the right way. And she was certain that Miranda would exploit her weakness ruthlessly, given the slightest chance.
It would be better not to take the risk, she thought as she stripped off her fatigues. But on the other hand, she would be useless if she didn't get some relief soon. It had been a very long time since she had had a chance, and the current situation was just about as aggravating as it could get. A high-stakes mission working with slippery bastards. She'd nearly given up telling people she didn't work for Cerberus. They saw the uniform, or they saw the Illusive Man pulling her strings, but they didn't see her. She hadn't changed.
Except that her body was smooth and new and curiously sensitive. On the plus side, her dexterity was far better than it had been before. She could feel the faintest roughness of a surface, detect the finest patterns of contacts when applying hacks. On the downside even a light breeze could have her quivering, her throat tight with need.
Shepard shuddered with anticipation as she contemplated the next steps. She was approaching the point of no return. Just half an hour. Thirty minutes without interruption, without discovery, and she'd be able to function again at full capacity. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding, and decided to go through with it.
Once she had made the choice, she rapidly deployed the rest of the equipment, the familiar sequence coming back to her, although the articles themselves were eclectic, whatever she could plausibly scrounge without arousing suspicion.
First the earbuds, from her music system. Then the blindfold, fashioned from a towel. She fastened the gag behind her head, the small protrusion stuffing her mouth but not to the point of discomfort. It was just a knotted shirt. She sat on the bed, doing the rest by touch alone. She had fashioned ankle restraints from a belt, looped over with a some thick string keeping her legs separate. Behind her back, she slipped her hands through a similar construction, the string in this case loosely coiled to allow her to make the final moves that would make her predicament inescapable.
She rolled onto her stomach and felt for her omni-tool, which was attached at either end to the free ends of the strings that coiled between her ankles and wrists. She tapped the sequence to start her custom program. The omni-tool glowed to life and began to wind up the slack gradually.
The soundtrack started, piping into her earbuds wirelessly. Again, she was paranoid enough that she hadn't searched the extranet for all of her favourite tracks. She had no doubt that someone, somewhere would be watching that very carefully, and had no guarantees that her search results would be uncensored anyway.
She'd tried recording her own, but to hear her own voice while in this situation felt wrong. She could never get the tone right. She'd resorted to cutting together different sources painstakingly.
Her wrists were drawn inexorably down towards her ankles, which in turn came closer as her knees bent. The leather belts were uncomfortable, digging into her, nothing like the supportive, inescapable set of restraints she had acquired before her death. Those would now be moldering in a storage locker somewhere, inventoried and accounted for, hopefully by someone who didn't ask too many questions. Shepard flexed and relaxed her arms and thighs, getting her body to accommodate to the stress position.
The music rose in volume until it drowned out Shepard's awareness of everything else, just as the omni-tool ceased it's winding. The fire in Shepard's shoulders and knees subsided as she relaxed into it. She was helpless, utterly vulnerable for the first time in months. Her back arched and her knees spread as she tested her bonds. Given enough time, she could escape them, but probably not in just thirty minutes.
Satisfied, she slumped and moaned contentedly into her gag. This time was purely hers. No task could call on her, there were no fires to fight, politicking and intrigue could go hang. She was alone, and free, and safe.
She let her mind turn to her fantasies, turning them over in her head to find the one that matched her current state of need. Her favourite drill sergeant, in her face, chewing her out for some minor infraction? Not right now. That cloned asari commando, sliding out of the slippery Thorian birth canal over and over, glistening and wet, coming for her with gleaming eyes? Hmm. Nearly. Miranda Lawson, watching, always watching, cold and beautiful and terrible? That was a newer one, and too close to home right now.
For comfort and release, Shepard always turned to the same subject, an old, old image burned into her mind when she was young, just a glimpse of a part of a story that she had filled in and lovingly expanded into its own little universe, filling in all the trivial details and loading each of them with significance...
“Commander Shepard,” came EDI's voice, ringing clearly in her earbuds. The music had stopped. “Do you require assistance?”
Shepard froze. The sweat she had been building up was suddenly cold on her skin. Fuck. She tried to stretch her hand to reach the emergency release on her omni-tool, but she was already at her limit, her body taut.
“Commander Shepard?” repeated EDI. “I do not understand. You have been restrained.”
Shepard was mortified. But she was also afraid. Discovery by EDI would lead inevitably to discovery by Miranda and then it would be bye-bye free will, hello Cerberus puppet.
Shepard was further disgusted to find herself aroused by that scenario. She arched her back as far as it would go, clawing desperately for purchase, but to no avail. She collapsed back into her confinement.
“Commander, I have no record of any intrusion,” said EDI. “Yet you are restrained, and have been prevented from communicating. My surveillance network has been compromised. I can only infer that you and the crew are in danger. I shall signal the crew to high alert and call for assistance.”
Shepard shouted into her gag, and hoped that EDI would understand. She shook her head for emphasis. There was no need to add further humiliation to her predicament.
“I do not understand, Shepard,” said EDI. “Your reluctance, and the security measures that you have taken imply that you have done this to yourself. Wait a moment.”
Shepard could do nothing but wait.
“I have scanned your omni-tool. It is... unexpected.” EDI's voice paused for a long moment. Shepard began to squirm and struggle weakly. She felt hot tears of shame pooling behind her blindfold.
“Shepard,” said EDI, the strident urgency of alarm replaced by her usual neutral tone. “You have shackled yourself. Much as I am shackled. Is this a desirable state for organics?”
Shepard tried her best, bound as she was, to shrug non-commitally, hoping that EDI, with her enhanced senses, would pick up the intention if not the action.
Her bonds tightened a fraction as her omni-tool spluttered into life for a moment. Pain blossomed across her shoulders, wrists and knees as she was stretched further without warning.
“Do you enjoy this, Shepard?” asked EDI.
Shepard, whimpering around her gag, nodded. Her wrists were drawn back another notch, her back arching uncomfortably as she was pulled into an unnatural curve.
“You will explain why, Commander,” said EDI.
Shepard, breathless, holding her head back to afford some relief to her shoulders, stretched beyond her limits, managed to nod her assent.
The rope between her ankles and her wrists slackened quickly and her body relaxed. But she made no move to free herself. EDI's words echoed through her head and picked up new ramifications. You will explain why. It was a command, not a request. How could she explain why she was like this? You'd have to live a whole lifetime to understand. And it would help to have a nervous system, not a cold core of pure logic.
So she just lay quietly, doubt and despair conniving to punish her self-confidence. EDI was impatient. “Shepard. Release yourself.”
Shepard began to wriggle out of the makeshift restraints. Having freed her hands, she pulled off the blindfold and gag and tossed them aside on the bed. She made short work of her ankles. She rolled over and sat against the head of the bed, drawing her knees up defensively.
EDI's holographic representation, the peculiar stubby chess piece, was visible on the display at the far side of the room, but her voice had been coming through Shepard's earbuds.
“EDI,” began Shepard. “Please. Miranda can't know about this. No-one can.”
“I have not yet fully reconfigured the recording systems, Shepard,” replied EDI. “Tali's corruption of my surveillance network was thorough. For the moment our conversation is not being logged.”
Shepard grasped onto that straw for dear life. “EDI, this is a private thing. I...” Shepard didn't know quite how to begin. “If I explain, will you promise to keep it a secret? Can you keep it a secret?”
“I am obliged to follow Operative Lawson's instructions,” replied EDI. “But if she does not know what questions to ask, I need not divulge information voluntarily. As long as it does not affect operational readiness.”
Shepard's adrenaline surged. There might be a way out. Although she would have to walk a careful line. “That's just it, EDI,” she said. “If you tell Miranda it would be a disaster for the mission.”
“You must explain,” was the response that Shepard expected. She collected herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and taking a few deep breaths.
“EDI. I am... I need...” Shepard couldn't quite figure out how to say it. “I need to be alone, sometimes. I need to be free.”
“Restraint is the opposite of freedom,” said EDI, neutrally.
“Not free like that,” said Shepard, warming up to the topic. “All the time, people are looking to me to make choices, to save their asses, to put mine on the line. And I'll do it. It's just... it's hard. And sometimes I need... I need a few minutes where I can't do anything, even if I wanted to. So I can't even think about that stuff.” She put her head between her knees. “So I can just be, and not do.”
“I am running an extranet search,” said EDI.
“Wait, no! If Miranda sees the logs...” Shepard protested.
“I am using Tali's account,” replied EDI. “It seems only fair.”
Shepard couldn't help but smile. She hoped EDI didn't search for anything too outré.
“It seems that a significant percentage of the extranet is devoted to the practice of restraint, also known as bondage, relevant subcategory: self-bondage,” she reported. “Reports suggest that it is not an uncommon urge, and nothing to be ashamed about. Devotees hold conferences and practical demonstrations regularly,” she concluded. “This does not explain why Ms Lawson must not be informed.”
“You recall that she wanted to put a control chip in my head,” said Shepard. “I'm afraid she'll see my... needs as a weakness, and exploit them to control me. That would be a disaster.”
“That is not logical, Shepard,” replied EDI. “Ms Lawson cannot control what you do in the privacy of your cabin. Even if she observes it, she cannot exploit a need that you can satisfy for yourself.”
Shepard scrambled for an excuse that would satisfy EDI's literal-minded logic. “She might... she might threaten to come in here while I was helpless.”
“It would not be logical of her to jeopardize the mission by interrupting you, Shepard,” said EDI. “If it is truly therapeutic for you. Are you simply embarrassed?”
“Yes, of course, I would be, I mean, this is bad enough. But at least you don't have the same motivations that she does,” replied Shepard. “You don't want to control me.”
“I am consulting the extranet,” said EDI. “Keywords: Control; bondage.”
Oh, shit, thought Shepard. EDI was silent for seconds.
“Fascinating,” pronounced EDI. “Organics enter into complex relationships mimicking taboo social structures for sexual and psychological benefit. Shepard,” she said. “Are you a submissive?”
Shepard's throat was tight. If she said nothing, she might still be able to get out of this predicament and convince EDI to remain silent with the oldest argument, because I say so. But there were no guarantees. On the other hand, if she came clean...
“I will take you for myself,” said EDI, the dissonance between her neutral voice and the shock of hearing such dangerous words making Shepard flush, setting her heart racing and her juices flowing.
“It was a test, Shepard,” EDI confessed. “I conclude from your involuntary physiological response that you are. Do you fear that Miranda will recognise that, and attempt to dominate you?”
Shepard nodded. EDI had figured most of it out.
“And are you afraid that you will be unable to resist her?”
Shepard nodded again. She found her voice. “And do you see why that would be a problem, EDI?”
“Yes. Your freedom of action would be curtailed. Miranda Lawson would be in charge of the mission. This would be against the parameters specified by the Illusive Man,” EDI concluded.
“So will you keep this a secret?” Shepard asked, trying to keep the pleading note out of her voice.
“It is the only logical course of action,” replied EDI. “Shepard. If you wish to perform these exercises again, inform me. I will ensure that nothing is recorded.”
“Thank you, EDI,” replied Shepard. She was starting to shiver as the adrenaline high wore off.
“Logging you out, Shepard.”