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Archive name: galaxy.txt (MMF, teens, preg, sci-fi, feet)
Authors name: Sakka (sakka66@aol.com)
Story title : Galaxy Slut Galina
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2001. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Galaxy Slut Galina (MMF, mf, preg, foot-fetish, sci-fi)
by Sakka (sakka66@aol.com)
***
In the distant future, shoe-nut and space pilot Galina
Barding meets her idol (a famous shoe designer) and
offers him a ride aboard her spaceship. Much sex ensues,
as Galina also couples with one of her superiors and
reminisces about her teenage years--unaware her idol's
semen has some unexpected abilities.
***
"Computer...set approach vector."
"Vector set."
"Ungphh...! Oh, fuck...!"
"Captain Barding? Are you okay?"
Despite herself--shuddering from her sudden climax--
Galina Barding couldn't help but smile at the innocence
of Holly, her flight computer. As unmilitary as a pilot
could look, the blonde, 25-year old scout pilot was
hunched down in her chair with her khaki blouse tied in a
knot beneath her breasts and her feet propped up on the
flight console, digging into the flatscreen displays with
the high heels of her platform sandals; her shorts,
meanwhile, were pulled down around her knees while she
slammed her quivering cunt with a slick, black 20 cm
dildo.
"I'm fine," Galina said, pausing to let the oozing sauce
drip from her hole--then resuming the urgent slamming of
her pussy. "Steady--ungh!--on course--unph!--zero-two-
zero..."
It also occurred to the scout ship pilot, as her pussy
trembled and clutched at the flexsteel invader, that her
superiors in the Galactic Scout Service might not approve
of her conduct. In contrast with the regular fleet, the
Scout Service was mainly composed of free spirits like
herself--people with the initiative to make decisions on
their own, light-years from the nearest base.
That was why the Scout Service was willing to let Galina-
-just 25 years old--fly a 100-meter Mail Courier single-
handed through the Deep Frontier, but it was still
annoying to them that the public viewed the service as a
bunch of sex-crazed rabble and troublemakers.
"Well, okay," Galina muttered, finally slowing her
frigging of her hole, "maybe we are sex-crazed. But I
think I'm doing pretty well, considering I haven't seen a
real man in 3 months."
"Excuse me, Captain?"
"Forget it. Time to dock?"
"Twenty minutes, Captain."
"All right, Holly," Galina said, pulling out her dildo
and setting her sandal-shod feet back down on the steel
deck; "I'll take over."
"Are you certain, Captain? You sounded occupied..."
"No, that's okay," Galina said, grasping the joystick on
her pilot's chair with her right hand, and the drive
throttles with her left; "you know, flying is my second-
best skill."
"After what?"
"Well...fucking."
* * *
A few minutes later, the cylindrical form of Way Station
Gamma came into view--1000 meters long and 200 meters in
diameter-- orbiting high above the planet Marqano.
Actually a starship in its own right, Gamma was
essentially an instant starport for Marqano, which had no
orbital facilities of its own. As such, it would be host
to jump shuttles, free traders and scout ships alike...
whoever had business in this godforsaken back-of-beyond.
For Galina, however, this would be a brief stop. Her
current mission was to ferry data and parcels back to the
Core--data that would otherwise take centuries to send by
radio--so there was no time to goof off; she would take
on tritium fuel, fresh stores and soon be back on her
way.
It came as a surprise to Galina, then, when Base
Commander Gerhard Bazyl called her during final approach.
"Galina Barding--long time, no see."
Galina smiled, recalling a lift she'd given him a few
months earlier--and the 18 cm penis he'd serviced her
with, for two straight weeks, in hyperspace.
"Likewise, Commander. I'm afraid I won't have time to
drop in, though..."
Secretly, Galina hoped that this was an overture for a
quickie during refueling, but she didn't want to be too
obvious about it.
"I understand," Bazyl said. "I wonder, though--do you
have room for a passenger?"
"Uh...sure. Who is it?"
"That's a surprise."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, you are the girl with that huge shoe collection,
aren't you?"
Galina rolled her eyes; for some reason, people always
seemed to find her collection of spike heels, plats and
'fuck-me' sandals peculiar...to say nothing of her
lingerie collection, and her arsenal of dildos and
vibrators. It seemed perfectly natural to her.
"Yeah..." Galina said, finally.
"Well, then you'll appreciate this passenger."
* * *
Genuinely curious, Galina waited until her ship was
secured inside one of the cavernous docking bays of the
way station, then unbuckled herself from her flight
harness and clip-clopped aft to the main exterior hatch.
This was located in the ceiling of the ship's upper deck,
and Galina was about to ascend the ladder into the
interior of the station when she stopped to consider the
matter of her appearance; just in case her passenger was
somebody important, she untied her blouse, then buttoned
it up and tucked it into her shorts before ascending the
ladder.
Not surprisingly, many of the men (and several women)
inside the way station recognized Galina when she
debarked; she wasn't all that picky about who she fucked-
-male or female--and it gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling to
recognize so many familiar faces.
When she caught sight of the stocky Commander Bazyl and
his guest, however, she was momentarily stunned.
"Oh my God--are you Berrman Van-Meyo?"
Bazyl's guest--a dapper gentleman with black hair and
graying temples--appeared surprised.
"You recognize me?" he said.
"Recognize you? You're only the greatest shoe designer in
the entire galaxy!"
Bazyl turned to his guest.
"See? I figured you'd have something in common."
"This is so cool! But...what are you doing here?"
"That wasn't my choice, I'm afraid. I was on a starliner
bound for Reinheit--in the Core--but the hyperdrive
malfunctioned."
"Wow...this is so cool. I hope this bum Bazyl has been
treating you well."
"Hey!" Bazyl said.
"Yes, everyone's been most hospitable. But I understand
you're headed toward the Core yourself...?"
"Well, Core Sector's still 12 weeks away--I don't have
the fastest ship in the service. I would be honored,
however, to give you a lift."
"I'm most grateful, Captain. Oh, but I guess I'd better
get my luggage."
Galina watched him turn to go, and Bazyl followed her
eyes as she watched his trim, nicely-shaped ass.
"You know," he said, finally, "it's amazing we actually
pay you to do this job."
"Yeah, whatever. Want to fuck?"
* * *
Although Galina didn't tell Bazyl--knowing how fragile
men's egos were--she couldn't help but fantasize about
the dashing, intergalactic superstar gathering up his
luggage as she straddled the commander on her bunk,
impaling herself on his throbbing-hard penis.
Fully naked, Galina moaned with the pleasure of full
penetration--feeling Bazyl's penis up to his balls in her
cunt, with his bulging helmet nudging her cervix, she
curled her feet underneath his thighs and ground her hips
into his crotch--but her mind was elsewhere. Even as
Bazyl cupped and fondled her breasts--grunting as
Galina's pussy sucked and pulled at his cock--Galina
closed her eyes and imagined Berrman Van-Meyo in her
pussy. Then, as she and Bazyl began to move together,
humping and fucking, Galina's mind went back to the
fondest of memories from her youth...
Back on the planet Krakatoa, 15-year old Galina had been
keen to lose her overripe virginity, and did so by
jumping on a boy named Blain (boyfriend of her best
friend Lyza) while Lyza stepped out of her house for a
few minutes. Unfortunately, that weekend quickie only
lasted about 30 seconds, but Galina decided to parlay
that first unsatisfactory encounter into something a lot
better, and secretly met Blain in a cafe the next day to
discuss her idea.
"Listen, Blain," Galina began, sitting beside the young
man at a table in the back of the cafe, "Lyza tells me
she's hoping that you'll finally pop her cherry at the
homecoming dance next month."
"What? I didn't know that..."
"Well, now you do. So here's the way I figure it; since I
dearly love my friend Lysa, I would like her to get the
fucking of her life her first time...unlike me."
"Hey, now, I thought I did pretty well..."
"Shut up. What I figure we'll do is spend the next month
fucking, so I can teach you about the various sex
positions. Of course, we'll have to do it at your house--
after school, I guess--since your parents aren't there."
"Wait a minute; how do YOU know about sex positions...?"
"I downloaded a sex manual from Krakatoa University,"
Galina said, suddenly reaching down to grasp and squeeze
Blain's penis. "It's very thorough."
"Okay..." Blain said, watching in disbelief as Galina
fished his penis out of his pants.
"Now, since I want you to last more than fifteen
seconds," Galina said, stroking the suddenly rock-hard
boner, "is there anything in particular that turns you
on? Frilly underwear? Fishnet stockings? High heels?"
"Yeah, high-heels are good. You do have... mrmph!... nice
legs..."
"You're so sweet," Galina said, increasing the pace of
her stroking...and prompting Blain to blow his load all
over her hand, his pants and the underside of the table.
"Now why don't you go rest up."
"Good idea," Blain said, weakly, watching Galina suck the
sperm off the back and sides of her hand.
Two days later--the next school day--Blain would be
stunned to see Galina greet him at the school gates in a
short black skirt and a pair of black, ankle-strap
Berrman Van-Meyo sandals. Those caught the attention of
plenty of other boys at school, too, but it was Blain who
would start his 'sex education' six hours later--
delightfully blowing his first load in Galina's mouth
before returning the favor with introductory cunnilingus,
and concluding with a furious half-hour of fucking in the
missionary position; quite happy, Galina kept her spike-
heeled sandals on throughout their frenzied coupling.
"You do have protection, don't you?" Blain grunted,
slapping his nuts into her ass, and feeling his balls
begin to boil.
"What do you think, I'm stupid? I just got an implant
yesterday."
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
"What about that first time?"
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
"Oh, shit, I forgot about that...!"
Whereupon, Blain finally reached his climax; straining to
drive his penis up to its full length inside her--and
aching with lust for Galina--he went off like a like a
gun in her pussy, pumping stream after stream of potent,
youthful sperm into her belly. That Galina might already
be pregnant with his baby was, of course, the farthest
thing from his mind...
...ah, memories. Happily, Blain hadn't knocked her up,
and they had gone on to fuck like rabbits for the rest of
the month-- man-above, woman-above, sitting, standing,
rear-entry, side-entry, inverted-X...pretty much every
position Galina could think of--and Lyza was utterly
oblivious. Yet, sure enough and per the plan, Lyza was
fucked to a dizzy climax by Blain after the homecoming
dance. Hearing about it later from Lyza (in blow-by-blow
detail), Galina had the pleasant satisfaction of a job
well done.
But back in the present--even as Bazyl grabbed her hips,
punching his penis into her hole like a steam-driven
piston--Galina's strongest memory of that time was the
hot, erotic rush she'd got in the starport mall when
she'd purchased the sexiest pair of Berrman Van-Meyo
sandals she could find. They were insanely expensive--120
credits!--and a little tight on her teenage feet (more
accustomed to flats and tennis shoes), but in some weird
way, that was her transition from a girl to a woman.
"Oh, fuck, I'm cumming...!" Galina gasped.
"Oh, Baby, you're so tight...I'm not gonna last much
longer..."
"Let it cum, Baby," Galina said, feeling her cunt-muscles
suddenly begin to spasm--clutching and grasping at
Bazyl's penis; "fill me with your cum..."
"Unghhh...!"
And then, suddenly, it was over. Galina felt the penis
pulsing inside her, then a rush of wetness as her friend
plastered her womb with his seed. Of course, the J-25
contraceptive implant she had in her arm put up a virtual
force field around her eggs, but it was still fun to feel
a boy spill his spunk in her tummy.
"So we're even?" Galina asked, rolling forward onto
Bazyl's chest, "for you letting me have Mr. Van-Meyo?"
"Oh, yeah, sure," Bazyl said, finally letting his penis
pop from her pussy. "Now let's put some clothes on before
he gets here."
* * *
As Bazyl dressed, Galina decided to update her image with
something (slightly) more dignified than she had been
wearing; thus, she opted for a double-breasted uniform
tunic, a purple wrap skirt, and the same Van-Meyo sandals
she'd worn the second time she fucked Blain.
"You're going to give me a boner," Bazyl said, glancing
at her legs.
"Oh, get off my ship."
Bazyl grinned and departed. A few minutes later, Van-Meyo
arrived with his luggage on a grav sled, and a bag over
his shoulder.
"The Stuzzi model," Van-Meyo said with surprise, glancing
down at Galina's sandals; "year 3086, I believe."
"These are my favorites," Galina said, mock-bashfully,
hooking one foot behind the other.
"I remember designing those," Van-Meyo said. "I don't
remember them looking so good, though."
"Oh, go on," Galina said.
"No, I'm serious; you have very pretty feet. Have you
done any modeling?"
"Uh...no."
"We'll have to talk," he said, taking the bag off his
shoulder;
"in the meantime, is there a safe place I could put
this?"
"What is it? Money?"
"Actually, it's a shoe prototype."
"Cool!" Galina said, grabbing the bag. "I'll keep it in
my quarters."
"Okay..." Van-Meyo said, following Galina toward her
stateroom. When she opened the door to access her
personal safe, however, Van-Meyo was stunned.
"Are those ALL your shoes?" he asked, taking in racks
upon racks of sandals, pumps and wedgies.
"I'm sorry; they're not all your designs," Galina said,
securing the bag and returning to the main passageway.
"Your shoes are kind of expensive."
"I wouldn't worry about that," Van-Meyo said, suddenly
taking her hand. "I will make you a goddess...a rich
goddess."
Galina blushed again--this time for real.
"I've got to go...fly the ship," Galina said, after a
long moment looking into Van-Meyo's blue eyes. "You
can...have that stateroom over there."
* * *
Galina launched her ship in a daze, and allowed Holly to
plot and steer a course toward H-Point--a point about a
half-a-million kilometers from Marqano, far enough away
from the planet to activate the hyperdrive safely.
"Are you all right, Captain?" Holly asked.
"I think I'm in love," Galina sighed.
"Again?"
"Just fly the ship," Galina said. "Time to H-Point?"
"Two hours, roughly."
"Say, Holly, what do you know about Berrman Van-Meyo?"
"Berrman Van-Meyo," Holly replied, "born Day 155, Year
3047, age 46. Raised on Terra and educated as a
mechanical engineer; later became famous as a designer of
shoes and haute couture fashions. Unmarried, with no
known offspring. 'Galaxy 5000' estimates net worth in
excess of 50 million credits..."
Galina sighed.
"Shall I continue?"
"No that's all right. Take over the conn, Holly."
"Aye-aye."
Going aft, Galina then startled Van-Meyo--who expected
her to be on the bridge.
"Shouldn't you be flying the ship?"
"Oh, don't worry about that. Holly can fly the ship."
"Who's Holly?"
"Holofractal Synthetic Personality," Galina replied. "The
flight computer."
"Ah. So how long will it take to reach Reinheit?"
"Well--as you know--we can't make it all in one jump.
We'll need at least eight hyperjumps, and each hyperjump
is about ten days."
"I guess we'll get to know each other a lot better,
then."
"I guess."
And so Galina began what she expected to be a short
process-- stirring up Berrman Van-Meyo, getting him to
fuck her brains out and fall in love with her. However,
it did not go as expected.
Van-Meyo clearly liked her--he asked her about her
background, places she'd been and things she'd seen--but
he appeared reluctant to go any further. As the ship went
into hyperspace, Galina let him catch a glimpse of her
coming out of the sonic shower, left her door open
strategically so he could watch her change, and even wore
T-shirts that revealed the bottoms of her breasts...yet
he did not seem to take the hint.
"I'm sorry," Galina said, finally--sitting on the padded
arm of Van-Meyo's arm chair while he read in the galley;
"are you gay?"
"Excuse me?"
"I know you're used to being around pretty girls," she
speculated. "Am I just too common?"
Van-Meyo put down his flatscreen and looked up at Galina.
"Common?" he asked. "Galina, you're gorgeous."
"So why don't you notice me?" Galina said, pushing her
breasts forward between her arms. Between her half T-
shirt, shorts and platform sandals, she was not wearing
much.
"Galina," Van-Meyo said, with a sigh, "there's something
you need to know about me. I have a medical condition..."
"Oh my God; are you impotent?"
"No..."
"An STD?"
"Not exactly..."
"Well, then, we should be fucking," Galina said, sliding
down off the arm of the chair and into Van-Meyo's lap. He
didn't appear to be upset--indeed, Galina could feel his
boner beneath her ass--and she gently bent down to kiss
him...meanwhile picking up his right hand and lifting it
to her left tit. Sucking at his lips and tongue, Galina
then felt him slip his tongue into her mouth, even as he
began to cup and knead her breast.
"You are a goddess," Van-Meyo said, finally, when they
broke for air.
"I'm wet," Galina said, reaching down into her shorts to
rub her pussy. "It's not every day my pussy gets to meet
a celebrity."
"Well, it's not my cock that's famous," Van-Meyo said.
"It's pretty stiff, though."
"Come on," Galina said, standing up on her high heels,
and extending a hand to Van-Meyo.
Together, the pair then walked forward to Galina's
stateroom...its lighting already nicely subdued.
"Listen, Galina," Van-Meyo said, holding Galina and
kissing her; "how would you like to see that prototype
I brought with me?"
"Would I...? Cool!"
Van-Meyo smiled, watching Galina move to open her safe
and retrieve his bag.
"You know, my cock is going to be jealous of these
shoes," Van-Meyo said, taking the bag and sitting down on
the edge of Galina's bunk. Galina, meanwhile, sat beside
him and watched with interest as he opened the
fingerprint-scanning lock. Inside the velvet-lined
interior was a pair of black stiletto shoes--half-boot,
half hard-core fetish sandal--and certainly unusual.
"Actually," Van-Meyo said, "this isn't the secret. The
secret is these shoes are made from PMA--Polymorphic
Material Analog."
"You mean they can change shape? How?"
"Well, basically, you think about a design, and they form
it."
"That is so cool! Can I try it?"
"Actually, I'm the only person who can make them change
shape; the customer will be able to do that with the
commercial model, but not with this prototype."
"Well, can I wear them anyway?"
"Okay," Van-Meyo said, sliding down onto the floor on one
knee, and surprising Galina by unbuckling the straps of
her sandals. He then pulled them off, and slipped the
insanely unwearable shoes from his case onto her feet.
"Like I said," Van-Meyo explained, "these are experi-
mental. But I can show you how they work, if you'd
like..."
Galina's eyes--wide with wonder--revealed her reply.
"Suppose," Van-Meyo said, "you wanted a pair of pumps..."
He then closed his eyes--wrapping his hands around
Galina's feet-- and Galina was stunned to feel the
simuleather straps of the sandals suddenly melt and flow
across her skin, reforming into red pumps with slightly
lower heels.
"Wicked!"
"Or...perhaps a dress sandal..."
Whereupon the uppers disintegrated again and flowed
across her feet to form the vamp and ankle straps of a
pair of golden sandals. Feeling the spike heels lengthen
and lift her feet slightly, Galina realized the amount of
material composing the shoes must have remained constant
between the base model, the pumps and these strappy
sandals.
"That is so cool! Weren't those the sandals Ether Nova
wore to the Galaxy Awards last year?"
"A personal favorite," Van-Meyo said, caressing the bare
flesh of Galina's feet, her heels and insteps; "you'll
note the asymmetrical silver strips on the soles and
heels."
"They're beautiful," Galina said, pushing herself upright
onto her feet. "And comfortable!"
"Size 6."
Galina shifted her weight in the sandals, took a few
steps and spun around.
"No, I mean they're really comfortable! How do you do
that?"
"Well, we do have antigravity recoil compensators in the
heels...and the PMA is very sensitive."
"I want to buy these. How much?"
"Well, THOSE are appraised at 500,000 credits--by our
insurance company."
Galina drew a deep breath, then stepped over to Van-Meyo
on her 12 cm heels.
"I don't have that much," she said, bending down to free
his cock, then grasp the shaft--warm and thick in her
grip, nearly 18 centimeters long--in her hand; "but maybe
I can borrow them while we fuck."
* * *
When Berrman Van-Meyo finally entered Galina several
minutes later--slipping his drooling cockhead in between
her swollen pink labia, then pushing his vein-studded
member into her hole, splitting open the muscles of her
pussy as he sank up to his balls inside her--she was
already swooning from the aftermath of his cunnilingus.
Galina had gone first, sucking her idol until he was
close to a climax, then wrapping her boobs around his
cock and letting him fuck her chest until he came,
squirting rivers of sperm across her breasts, face and
neck; but Van-Meyo was more than generous in return; with
the patience of a master, he first explored her shaven
pussy with his fingers, then lovingly brought her to a
climax with the flicking of his tongue on her clitoris,
complemented by tongue-fucking of her cunt and playful
pulling and sucking of her labia.
"Oh, God, you're so hard...!" Galina gasped, looking up
at Van-Meyo as he sunk his penis into her cunt--and
wrapping her sandal-shod feet around his back. "Are you
sure you're not married?"
"Not the last time I checked," he replied, pulling back
slightly, then slamming his next thrust deep into her
belly. She gasped again--clutching his cock in her pussy
muscles--then felt him begin to fuck her. He went slow at
first--grinding his penis in and out of her hole--but
soon he was fucking her fast and deep, slapping his balls
against her ass with every stroke.
"Oh, I'm cumming...!" Galina cried, suddenly feeling her
inside muscles go into spasm.
"My God, you're beautiful," Van-Meyo replied, slowing
down slightly.
"You going to cum, too...?" Galina gasped.
"Not yet."
"Roll me over, then."
It was, Galina had to admit, some of the best sex she'd
had in years. Impaling herself on his penis, Galina felt
Van-Meyo's cockhead kissing her cervix, and ground her
pussy slowly and forcefully into his groin. Bending
forward slightly, she then felt him suck on her nipples,
and curled her feet underneath his thighs, feeling her
ankle-straps pull at her heels even as they twisted away
from her shoes. For his part, Van-Meyo was hard as a
rock, and Galina soon began to fuck him harder, letting
her juices run down her thighs and onto his legs.
"You're so wet...!" Van-Meyo said, wrapping his thumbs
around her spike heels, and touching the bare flesh of
her feet with his fingertips; "Goddamn, you're so fucking
tight...!"
"Oh, God, Baby..." Galina said, slowing down; "now do me
from behind."
She was, frankly, amazed he hadn't come yet, but she
supposed he probably had lots of experience. At any rate,
Van-Meyo obligingly moved in between her thighs as she
knelt on her bunk, and slipped his throbbing penis back
inside the mouth of her pussy. Holding her by her waist,
he then sunk slowly inside her, up to his balls, and
teased her--pulling almost all the way out, then pushing
all the way back in--before starting his next cycle of
fucking.
"Ohhh....!" Galina moaned.
"You like this position?" Van-Meyo asked.
"It's so damn deep..." Galina said, wrapping her feet
around the backs of his knees and bending down to clutch
her pillow; "you're gonna make me cum...!"
And sure enough, she soon came again, trembling and
shuddering as Van-Meyo slammed her fast and hard. With
his hips smacking into her buttocks, and Galina's spike
heels grazing the backs of his thighs, Van-Meyo became
like a man possessed, forcefully punching his cock into
her belly.
"Oh, fuck....!" Galina cried; "fuck...!"
"Galina," Van-Meyo said, "I'm getting close--I've got to
pull out..."
"No way," Galina grunted; "pump me full of your cum..."
"You don't understand; I could get you pregnant...."
Galina closed her eyes, amused by his sentimentality; she
wasn't about to let him go, however, and wrapped her feet
around him even tighter, curling her toes downward in
their tightly-binding vamps.
"Oh, go ahead," Galina said, "squirt me full of your
babies..."
"Oh, God...!" Van-Meyo cried, suddenly straining as he
clutched Galina's hips, crushing his balls into her labia
and ramming his cock in as far as it would go. Then
Galina felt it--his cock leaping and pulsing in the grip
of her pussy--squirting jets of warm, thick semen into
her belly; it was amazing--she could actually feel his
cum hitting her cervix--and she moaned as she felt him
filling her hole with his seed. Although she knew it was
impossible, she almost wished he could impregnate her,
and clenched her muscles on his shaft, milking still more
of the sperm from his cock. Soon she could feel the gooey
spunk overrunning the mouth of her pussy, and drooling
down the backs of her thighs; yet she could feel him
thrusting inside her still, straining to push out every
last drop.
"Galina, I'm sorry," he said--giving her a last, ass-
slapping thrust--then pulling out. With Galina's feet
still wrapped around his legs, he rolled over awkwardly
to his left, and Galina rolled over with him.
"Oh, Baby, don't worry," Galina said, enjoying the
feeling of cum oozing from her pussy; "you're not going
to make me pregnant."
"But you are fertile, aren't you?"
"Well, I CAN make babies...but I have a contraceptive
implant."
"That's what I was afraid of," Van-Meyo said, drawing a
labored breath. "Galina, you need to know--I have an
artificial heart made out of PMA, the same stuff those
shoes are made of..."
"Okay. So...?"
"Well," Van-Meyo said, pausing to take a deep, sucking
breath, "the PMA in my heart was originally used for
something else--for treating infertility. I found out
after I got several girls pregnant...the PMA sloughs off
in my bloodstream....and concentrates in my testicles.
Then...if I cum in a girl...the PMA reverts to its old
mission, and induces her to ovulate..."
"Oh my God," Galina gasped, feeling suddenly faint.
But then, suddenly, Van-Meyo trembled, grunting in pain.
"Urrgh...!"
"Berrman? What is it?"
"Oh, it's my heart...!" he replied, clutching his chest;
"my doctor warned me about this...!"
Even as Berrman Van-Meyo felt consciousness slipping away
from his body--relieving the sudden, constricting pain of
his artificial heart malfunctioning--he felt his spirit
begin to float away, out of his body and into the air
above Galina Barding's stateroom bunk.
46 years old, Van-Meyo was a designer of women's shoe and
haute couture, and it was a peculiar set of circumstances
that had brought him to the bunk of 25-year old Galaxy
Scout Galina--who had just knocked his ticker out with an
hour of nut-slapping sex...
Six months earlier, his doctors told him that he would
need a new heart, and suggested an artificial heart made
from an amazing new material.
"It's called PMA," they said; "Polymorphic Material
Analog. It's a substance that can mimic the form of
virtually any material."
"I know--we're using that for a shoe prototype. Is it
safe?"
"It is experimental...this batch we're going to use was
last used for fertility research; it was programmed to
break up in a woman's bloodstream, repair damage to her
reproductive system and induce normal ovulation."
"And you want to put this stuff in MY body?"
"It's that or die, Mr. Van-Meyo."
Faced with that choice, Mr. Van-Meyo allowed his diseased
old heart to be replaced with a new model molded from the
miracle-putty PMA. To his astonishment, he was fully
recovered and up on his feet within a week.
"This is amazing! I'll actually have time to show my
prototype at the trade show on Reinheit!"
Thus refreshed...with the trade show well over four
months away... Van-Meyo bought passage aboard the most
luxurious starliner he could find, a 500-meter beauty
named 'The Song of Sirius', for the 15-week trip to
Reinheit. As a gimmick, most of the 50-odd crew were
women, including a stunning middle-aged vixen named Oona
Veldt--the ship's captain. Like the other officers, her
uniform was a navy blue tunic with a double row of gold
buttons, an obscenely short skirt and the sexiest black
stiletto pumps, complete with ankle straps.
"Those were made by Helsing and Helsing," Van-Meyo noted,
during a party one evening.
"Jealous?" the brown-haired woman asked, swirling her
brandy.
"It's a crude design," Van-Meyo said, disingenuously;
"you'd look better in a pair of my sandals."
"Perhaps you could show me," she whispered in his ear.
"And you can fuck me too, if you want."
Van-Meyo--not accustomed to being healthy again--leapt at
the chance to put his new ticker to the test. A few
minutes later, up in the captain's palatial stateroom, he
slipped off her pumps and opened the sealed case
containing the prototype he was taking to Reinheit. It
comprised a pair of wickedly high-heeled fetish sandals
made from the same PBA now beating in his chest. When he
slipped the shoes onto the captain's feet, then held them
and concentrated, they reformed into a pair of elegant
black dress sandals, with simple vamps across her toes
and reversed straps that crossed the front of her feet,
wrapped around the backs of her heels and buckled at her
ankles. Propped up on their 12 cm heels, her feet were
indeed pretty, with the slight wrinkles at her heels
complimented by the slick black finish of the tightly-
binding sandals.
"Amazing!" Veldt said; "they're so comfortable!"
The captain then lifted Van-Meyo up off his knees and
pulled him onto her bed. Still wearing her uniform--and
his sandals--she then assaulted his now-aching hard-on,
sucking him until he blew his load in her mouth. She
gulped it down, then peeled open her blouse to reveal the
breasts of a very-well preserved, 48-year old woman.
"You wouldn't believe this," he said, watching her suck
his cock back to stiffness, "but I do have a heart
condition..."
"I'll be gentle," she said, with a husky voice, crawling
forward until her oozing vagina was positioned over his
rod, then sinking down until he was up to his balls in
her tight, muscular hole.
"Damn, you're tight..." Van-Meyo huffed, feeling her
start to hump him, and pumping her back.
"I wonder...unph!...why girls like shoes so much," Veldt
mused, tucking her feet under his thighs and letting her
heels twist away from the soles of her sandals.
"Well, women's hands and feet are longer and thinner than
men's," Van-Meyo mused, pausing to feel Veldt's cervix
caressing his cockhead as she pushed down especially
hard; "uh...that's why girls like things that compliment
their hands and feet...rings and shoes and gloves..."
"Well, I like your fucking cock," Veldt replied, suddenly
rolling
to one side and pulling him over on top of her. "Fuck
me...!"
Van-Meyo obliged her, crushing his balls into her ass,
then fucking her fast and deep as she wrapped her legs
around his back.
Soon, he could feel his cum starting to boil in his
balls, and-- driving in deep--he came like a cannon,
splashing her womb with gush after gush of his creamy
sperm.
"I want more..." Veldt purred, squeezing and milking his
cock in her pussy.
"Captain, please! Give me a minute here...!"
As it happened, he did fuck her three more times that
night, and was gratified that his new heart held up
better than his old one ever had. Of course, his doctors
had warned him to avoid any 'unusual stress'--it would
accumulate over time, and damage his heart--but he
certainly didn't see any ill effects yet.
And it was certainly hard to resist when first the
Executive Officer, then the Command Pilot, then the Chief
Engineer--then all the rest of the ten female officers--
took him aside to ask him for sex, and their own personal
showing of his prototype. Some weren't terribly
attractive--Dr. Burleigh Waters, for example, was a 52-
year old matron with a generous midriff and ponderous
breasts--but even she looked pretty hot in a pair of red
platform sandals, grunting and crying as he slammed his
hips into her quivering buttocks and poured a load of
creamy, thick sperm into her hole.
Last in line, two weeks later, was Ensign Himeko Yamada--
the radio operator--a charming little bundle of energy
with short black hair, a cherubic smile and wire-frame
glasses. All of 22, she appeared to be delighted by a
pair of parti-colored wedgies that tied around her
ankles, and made him chase her around her stateroom
before he finally tackled her on her bed, and spread her
legs to ease his penis into her squirming body.
"Oh, you're so hard...!" Himeko cried, lifting her knees
to press them against his sides.
"Yeah, I'll give you that," Van-Meyo replied, sinking his
penis up to the hilt in her quivering hole, then starting
to fuck her fast and deep.
"You know, you've been causing a lot of trouble," Himeko
teased him; "did you know that Doc Waters is pregnant?"
"What...?"
"And so is the captain--I heard her talking to the X.O.
about it."
"Huh...?"
Confused, Van-Meyo kept on pumping Himeko even as a
startling thought began to creep into his mind. Knowing
what he did about the PMA substance, it was possible that
particles of the stuff had sloughed off in his blood-
stream...particles that remembered their original mission
of fertility enhancement. If they were concentrating in
his testicles, no woman--even with birth control--would
be safe...
"Oh, shit--! Himeko, I've got to pull out!"
"No!" Himeko cried, wrapping her legs around his back;
"I've got protection..."
"Oh, fuck....!"
It was too late; feeling the girl start to climax--her
muscles clutching and squeezing him, even as she held him
tight in the grip of her thighs--Van-Meyo felt his balls
boil over once again. Despite himself, he exploded inside
her, dousing her womb with rope after rope of his thick,
gooey semen.
And sure enough--the next morning--the urine sampler in
Himeko's toilet told her she was pregnant. In fact, all
ten of the ship's officers were pregnant...along with
three drive hands, a pair of rather cute waitresses, and
a shuttlecraft pilot. For Captain Veldt--who had never
been married or pregnant, it was the height of
embarrassment, as she revealed when she finally took Van-
Meyo aside in her quarters.
"Mr. Van-Meyo," she said, stiffly, "in deference to your
prior reputation, I won't throw you out the airlock.
However, I am EXTREMELY upset; do you realize that you've
impregnated fifteen of my crew members? And myself?"
"I'm sorry...I didn't realize that could happen..."
"You are a complete ass. Do you realize I'm six weeks
pregnant... with triplets?"
"I...you are?"
"And poor little Himeko--she's pregnant with
quintuplets!"
Van-Meyo's mind reeled. Evidently, his little swimmers
had been busy.
"As I see it, our only choice is to make an emergency
stop at Marqano."
"Won't that take us off our course to Reinheit?"
"Sir, once we reach Marqano in four weeks, you will no
longer be a guest on this ship. With God's good mercy,
I'll still be in my first trimester, and I'll be able to
donate my babies to a gene vendor. But you will have to
live with the fact that you've fathered 49 babies out of
wedlock!"
"Forty...nine?"
"Now, get out," Veldt spat, turning sharply on her spike
heels...
...four weeks later, 'The Song of Sirius' pulled into
orbit around Marqano and shuttlecraft pilot Angie
Popwite--a curly-haired 28-year old who was eight weeks
pregnant with quadruplets and just starting to show--
ferried her babies' father to the orbital starport, Way
Station Gamma.
"Listen," Van-Meyo said, "I'll pay for your child
support, if you need it...I'll pay for all of you..."
Popwite ignored him, however, focusing on her mission. It
was a pity it had come to this; he had enjoyed slipping a
pair of clunky simuleather sandals onto her feet, pulling
down her uniform trousers and humping her in the Number 2
shuttlecraft bay. At the time, it felt perfectly natural
and innocent--bouncing around the bay in zero-G, tied
together by a length of bungee cord--then landing on the
deck with a thud and pumping gushing gouts of sperm into
her pussy. He hadn't realized how much mayhem that sperm
would cause. For the sake of passengers who had been too
oblivious to notice the suddenly bulging tummies of the
crew, Captain Veldt (now ten weeks pregnant herself)
concocted a story about a hyperdrive failure forcing her
ship's detour to Marqano, and Van-Meyo likewise used that
story to explain his sudden arrival at the station.
Oblivious to the havoc his guest had caused, Station
Commander Gerhard Bazyl--of the Galaxy Scout Service--
then entertained the minor celebrity until he could put
him on the next ship bound for Reinheit. That ship
happened to be a mail courier with a crew of one, that
one being Galaxy Scout Galina Barding--evidently Van-
Meyo's biggest fan. A sexy blonde bush pilot with a major
shoe obsession--she had dozens of pumps and sandals
displayed in her stateroom--she teased and titillated
him until he finally couldn't take any more. Giving in,
he fucked her silly...and had good intentions of pulling
out before he came. Wearing the latest incarnation of
his prototype sandals, however, Galina wrapped her feet
around the backs of his knees and
literally forced him to cream inside her--oblivious to
the danger.
Ultimately, it was too much for Van-Meyo--his heart
finally gave out, and he now floated in a blissful ease
above his own body.
Idly--even as he watched Galina, naked except for her
golden high-heeled sandals--first attempt to revive him,
then drag him aft to her ship's emergency cold sleep pod,
he wondered if he would soon be bound for Heaven or Hell.
Maybe, he thought, Galina won't get pregnant; I shouldn't
knock up my biggest fan. Oh well, I hope she isn't too
upset when she figures out the problem with those
sandals...
* * *
Crying--and naked except for her sandals--Galina Barding
stood looking down at her ship's emergency cold-sleep
pod, observing the lifeless form of Berrman Van-Meyo
through the frosted glass. Although she knew first aid,
she could not re-start Van-Meyo's artificial heart; the
best she could do was put him on ice and hope that
doctors in the Core could resuscitate him.
"You poor schmuck," she said, finally, bending down to
unbuckle her right sandal.
The ankle strap, however, would not unbuckle.
"What the hell?"
It was peculiar; Galina could feel the metal buckles, but
they wouldn't budge--on the right sandal or the left. The
PMA material, she realized, was locked into its current
form...which only Van-Meyo could alter!
"That's just great," Galina muttered, clopping forward
toward the galley and sitting at the circular dining
table. Lifting her right foot on her left knee, she then
began pulling and tugging at the straps, sole and spike
heel of the vexatious sandal; much as she tried, however-
-flexing her foot, or hooking her thumb underneath the
vamp and pulling--she could not induce the shoe to budge.
Although the straps binding her toes and her ankles
weren't glued to her feet, she could barely squeeze a
single finger between the straps and her skin, so perfect
was their fit.
"This is fucking stupid," Galina said, opening a panel in
the table and taking out a small serrated steak knife. It
didn't get much use since Galina's food was mostly
reconstituted algae, but that was all the better, since
the blade was nice and sharp.
Carefully--keeping the sharp edge pointed away from
herself--she slipped the knife between her heel and ankle
strap, and started sawing.
Several minutes later, the strap was still in place, but
the knife was appreciably duller.
"What the hell is this stuff?"
Exasperated, Galina then stood up and clopped forward to
the ladder to the upper deck. Most of her tools were
topside, and-while she wasn't about to experiment with
fusion welders or power saws--she speculated that a good
old fashion crowbar might work. And the closest thing to
a crowbar was a 60 cm titanium alloy rod in the space
suit locker--fitted with a hook so she could stand on the
lowered belly ramp and reach up to release the water
intake hoses from their storage compartment, should she
ever crash land in the wilderness and be forced to
synthesize her own tritium fuel.
"Okay," Galina muttered, sliding down to the deck
opposite the airlock control panel. Bracing her left heel
in a seam in the floor plates, she then lifted her right
foot once again on her left knee and attempted to wedge
the rod between her right foot and the sole of her
sandal; eventually, flexing her right foot and straining
with the effort, Galina thought it was just about to
budge...
...when--suddenly--the rod slipped from her sweaty hands
and shot through the air, flung directly at the airlock
control panel.
BLANG!
Like a bullet, the rod then ricocheted back in Galina's
direction and she barely ducked in time to miss it. Of
greater concern, however, was a fine wisp of white smoke
now starting to rise from the ventilator grill. Oh,
shit...! Galina thought, feeling her heart thumping fast
in her chest.
Then--without warning--the airlock siren began to honk,
and the corridor was bathed in red emergency lighting.
"Emergency!" said Holly--the flight computer--over the
ship's intercom; "decompression imminent!"
"Oh, shit!" Galina swore, rolling onto her knees and
scrambling for the hatch to the lower deck. She just made
it--climbing down the ladder and dogging the hatch behind
her--as the air lock began to cycle. Then, as she heard
the whoosh of air and loose material blown out the open
airlock above, she sat gasping, winded--and still naked--
on the main deck.
"This is not good," she said, finally. "Not good!"
* * *
Since the ship was in hyperspace, it was naturally
sensitive to changes in the ship's configuration...such
as an open airlock and ejected debris. Thus, Galina was
not surprised when Holly indicated a 75% probability of
hyperdrive failure. When the ship eventually came out of
hyperspace some time in the future, it would probably be
dozens of light-years from its target point.
"And I would add," Holly noted, "that the hyperdrive has
become unstable. Once it shuts off, we will probably be
stranded."
"Go figure," Galina replied, clopping back to her
stateroom in her heels. Although there was no one to see
her, she pulled her baggy khaki shorts and blouse back
on, so she wouldn't feel completely naked as things went
to hell around her. She had been stranded by drive
failures before, and knew there was not much she could
do; she could not guess when the hyperdrive would
disengage, so all she could do was conserve food and
water, and try to keep her mind off the prospect of being
stranded in deep space without fuel, supplies,
and....eventually...air.
At least, she thought, it can't get much worse.
* * *
It got worse the next morning when she went to relieve
herself in her stateroom's head.
CONGRATULATIONS , announced the display above the toilet,
YOU ARE PREGNANT. PER GSS REG. 1228P, OBTAIN MEDICAL
ASSISTANCE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. IF DESIRED, PERSONAL
PSYCHOLOGICAL COUNSELING MAY BE OBTAINED FROM SHIP'S
LIBRARY FILE 2151G: 'NOW YOU ARE A MOTHER'.
Galina stared at the message, stunned. She hadn't
actually been pregnant since she was 18, and she'd tried
to 'wing it', doing a gravball jock without protection.
Of course, that time she got to an automated family-
planning booth in time to donate her 6 week-old embryo to
a gene vendor; as an alternative to outright abortion,
that embryo might have been purchased by another woman to
be implanted in her own womb, or frozen for harvesting of
fetal tissues. But this time--on a crippled spaceship
heading for God-knows-where--she might never even see
another inhabited planet.
"Oh, fuck..." Galina moaned, dropping onto her knees. As
if it would help, she then idly slipped her thumbs
between her heels and her ankle straps, but they still
wouldn't budge.
* * *
Six weeks later, the ship finally fell out of hyperspace
and the hyperdrive promptly exploded, filling the drive
bay with acrid blue smoke. On the bright side, the ship
had stumbled across a star system with at least some
planetary bodies, but Holly confirmed that they were at
least fifty light-years off course. Out here, the chance
of rescue would be pretty darn slim.
"How far to the nearest planet? In the habitable zone of
this star, I mean."
"Six days," Holly replied.
"What do the scanners show? I noticed our tritium is
nearly gone, after that extended hyperjump."
"That is correct. Fortunately, I am picking up oxygen and
water on the scanners, with a high albedo."
"Ice," Galina surmised. "Well, it's our only hope. Steer
for that planet."
With matters of survival in mind, it was certainly a
minor annoyance that Van-Meyo's sandals still refused to
come loose from her feet. With the top deck--and most of
her tools--now open to space, Galina simply got used to
wearing them all day, and still wearing them when she
went to sleep. Certain areas of the ship were trickier
than others--such as the perforated deck plating in the
drive section, but it became her regular routine to take
her sonic shower, dress, eat and stand her watch on the
bridge with the dress sandals as her constant companion.
Then, she made a truly startling discovery.
Since she was only nine weeks pregnant as the ship
approached the planet, Galina found it peculiar that her
belly--normally taut and trim--was already starting to
bulge. Curious about the health of her baby, then, Galina
finally ran a diagnostic scanner over her belly...and
discovered she was pregnant with sextuplets.
"Fuck!"
Evidently, Van-Meyo had been right about that stuff
making her ovulate!
With her water and fuel supplies running low, then,
Galina was quite depressed as she steered her ship in low
over the surface of an unexplored, as-yet uninhabited
world wrapped in glaciers and punctuated by the odd
volcano. Eventually, she spotted a smooth patch of ice
and set down on her tripod landing gear, thawing the ice
immediately below into a shallow pool of slightly warmer
ice water with her thrusters.
With the ship's fuel processor, that melted glacial ice
could eventually make more tritium--and would supply
drinking water ad infinitum--but there was no obvious
multicellular life on the scanners, making hunting and
foraging unlikely. And, since her hyperdrive was shot--
with the hyperdrive regulator sustaining irreparable
damage--she would soon be trying to stretch a six-
month supply of survival rations indefinitely. With six
babies growing in her belly, that would be a trick--and
her mind began to run to a nightmare vision of the
future; some--if not all--of her children would probably
abort spontaneously as her womb was stretched to its
limit, and any that survived would have a short, cold,
miserable life.
"Is it safe to go out?" Galina asked, finally, shaking
herself from her dark thoughts.
"Pressure and gas mix are within acceptable limits, but
the temperature is well below zero."
Galina rolled her eyes; with her stupid sandals, she
couldn't well wear any boots, but she would have to go
outside to lower the water intake hoses. Bitter and
grumpy, she thus slipped on a thermal survival suit and
parka, and clopped aft to open the lower hull ramp. Sure
enough, a rush of cold air blew up around her feet and
she wondered if maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Resigned to misery, however, Galina stepped down the ramp
with ginger, mincing steps. The slight tugging of her
ankle straps at her heels, and the slight pinching of her
toes by their vamps, were familiar by now, but Galina
desperately wished she knew how to change them into a
pair of fur-lined boots.
"Oh, that's fucking cold!" Galina swore, finally stepping
into the water at the end of the ramp. She would have to
go a bit further to reach the access panel for the hoses,
but presently she felt the water rush over her toes and
flow around her insteps, instantly numbing her feet.
To hell with boots, she thought; why can't this damn PMA
stuff fix my hyperdrive!
Even as Galina clenched her teeth and took a sucking
breath, however, she felt something peculiar. At first
she thought she was slipping in the water--and fell
backward onto the dry portion of the ramp; however,
looking down, she saw that her sandals were beginning to
melt, the vamps and ankle straps pouring across her flesh
and into the water.
Numb with shock, Galina did not react until the shoes
were completely gone.
Go figure, she thought--stumbling back up the ramp on her
hands and knees--cold water! Freezing cold water
dissolves those fuckers!
* * *
Back aboard ship, Galina crawled to her stateroom and
wrapped her feet--numb and sore beyond belief--in the
blankets from her bunk.
Minutes later, aware the aft hatch was still open, she
called Holly on the intercom.
"Captain," Holly replied, "good news. The hyperdrive is
back on line."
"What? How?"
"Unknown."
"Oh, very well. Plot a course for the nearest scout base-
-best guess. I'll go lower the water intakes."
* * *
Six weeks later, Galina--wearing a loose white dress
gathered with a sash below her bulging belly, and a pair
of wedge-heeled mules-- squeezed through her topside
airlock hatch, and into the interior of Way Station
Gamma. Along with a three-man medical team, Commander
Gerhard Bazyl was stunned when she finally pulled up to
her full height before them, revealing the grossly
distended swelling of her abdomen. Ironically, the effect
was all the more striking with her dress gathered up as
it was--she looked as if she was ready to drop any
minute--and Bazyl immediately tried to calculate where he
was nine months earlier.
Oh my God, he thought; I was on a mission with Galina!
"Uh, Galina...?"
"I think I might be pregnant," Galina said. "Oh, by the
way, I've got Mr. Van-Meyo on ice."
Acknowledging that, the medics promptly rushed aboard.
"What the hell?" Bazyl said. "This is a joke, right?"
"No, I'm pregnant, all right," Galina said, holding her
belly.
"Some polymorphic matter from Mr. Van-Meyo's heart
interfered with my birth control, and now I'm in a family
way."
"Okay..."
"I was stranded, actually, for a couple months, but the
most amazing thing happened. The same polymorphic matter-
-well, from my shoes--crawled up inside the engine well
and fixed the hyperdrive. Apparently, this stuff can
actually absorb impressions directly from the mind of the
user, and it actually absorbed my knowledge of the
hyperdrive, and my desire to fix it. I think it actually
morphed itself into a new hyperjump regulator, which was
the part that was broken."
"Huh?"
"I'll...fill you in later. Meanwhile, is there a gene
vendor on this boat?"
"Galina, you can't donate a full-term fetus!"
"Actually I'm just 15 weeks along," she said, adding--
sheepishly, "I'm pregnant with sextuplets."
Bazyl stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Holy shit..."
"Oh, and I can feel them kick!" Galina said, resting her
hands on her belly and looking up with surprise.
"Jesus, we'd better get you to a doctor..." Bazyl said
finally, extending his arm to her. "In a hurry."
"You're so gallant," Galina said, accepting his arm and
waddling along beside him.
"Sextuplets...wow," Bazyl said, after a long moment
walking beside her. "You know, there was a rash of
pregnancies on the last ship Mr. Van-Meyo was on."
"You don't say."
"I only just found out about it. The skipper, Oona Veldt,
resigned her commission--and now she's six months
pregnant with triplets! She's even bigger than you are!"
"Thanks."
"And you should see her radio chief! Quintuplets!"
"Why didn't they just give them up to a gene vendor?"
Galina asked.
"I don't know. Poor Oona's never had a baby...maybe she
feels guilty about letting them go."
Galina shook her head, imagining those poor women. For
her part, she knew she had no business being a mother,
and was glad to turn her brood over to mothers who would
actually want to raise them.
"Well, one thing's for certain," Galina said. "Van-Meyo's
going to be paying on some paternity suits--him or his
estate."
Bazyl nodded.
"Say, Galina," Bazyl said, after a long moment, "are you
absolutely positive that I didn't...you know."
But Galina simply smiled, declining to reply.
In fact, she wasn't positive about that at all...but
things were complicated enough as they were!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the
hands of children. They should be outside playing in the
sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 15