The Omega Effect. Samara. Part Five.

"Mlah." Samara groaned as her tongue slipped from her roommate's asshole, smeared with spit and sperm that quickly dissapeared into the shattered Justicar's greedy maw. "Sho yummy!"

"More where tha' came frum." the battle-scarred Krogan the pair were currently servicing grunted, smacking her in the nose with his monstrous dick. The last of his second load oozed over Samara's cheek and she quivered with delight, quickly scooping up his massive shaft and slathering it with her tongue.

Life was so much easier now she'd given up hope and dignity, and so much happier to boot.

She'd gotten used to being gangraped in alleyways and twerking her ass on Vorcha cocks now. The high of red sand and the sting of a needle were as familiar to her now as the tastes of every sentient species' spunk on her tongue. It had taken a while, but she'd finally realised just how silly she'd been the past few months and learned the lesson Omega had been teaching her.

Thinking was bad.

Thinking about things led to worrying about things, which led to feeling sad and scared and horrified at the twisted sexdoll she'd allowed herself to become.

Once she'd stopped thinking, she'd stopped worrying about what she'd been made into. She'd stopped worrying about escape, or her friends, or her life outside of Omega. She'd stopped worrying about looking like a slut, or getting hurt, or any of the other risks her new career came with.

All she had to do was smile and giggle and not ever, ever think about how far she'd fallen ever again.

As the krogan jammed his cock down her throat Samara's titanic plastic udders jiggled and heaved with her struggling breaths. Her two bloodshot blue eyes stared vaguely into space, vacant and content.

Samara the Justicar was dead, but that was ok, Samara the streetwalker was just fine with her new life.

This piece was made by the wonderful Mavruda as the last of five parts!