Message-ID: <57749asstr$1213650601@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-AntiAbuse: This header was added to track abuse, please include it with any abuse report X-AntiAbuse: ID = d321073a33f58332cddb2c0cf501aa56 Reply-to: rivyavtry@myway.com From: "Riv"<rivyavtry@myway.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Original-Message-ID: <20080616150544.DB2EC23401@mprdmxin.myway.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2008 11:05:44 -0400 (EDT) Subject: {ASSM} After The Varg {RivYavtry} (Mg, Mfg, preg, sci-fi) Lines: 972 Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2008 17:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2008/57749> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, emigabe _______________________________________________ No banners. No pop-ups. No kidding. Make My Way your home on the Web - http://www.myway.com <1st attachment, "prvarg.txt" begin> Usual disclaimers about this being a work of imagination, with no relationship to real people or events. Many thanks to the people who read the story and commented on it before its release here. All feedback welcome. (You can comment anonymously via the feedback form on my asstr site - http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rivyavtry/www/) Riv Yavtry <1st attachment end> <2nd attachment, "varg.txt" begin> I was ready, or as ready as I was likely to be. I pressed the button on the intercom. "Next please," I requested in a matter-of-fact voice. A few moments later the door slid open. I couldn't have done better if I'd chosen the girl myself; Caucasian, slim, chestnut hair, hazel eyes, flat chest and bald pussy. At first the girls wore clothes, but now they turned up naked to save time. Despite its recent service, my cock sprang to attention. On seeing it, the girl looked like a rabbit trapped in headlights. "What's your name?" I asked. It didn't really matter. There had been so many that I'd never remember, but I wasn't a complete monster and I found a little conversation first helped the girls relax. "Zoe," she replied. "Do you know why you're here?" "You're going to make me pregnant." Gentle questioning of earlier subjects had elicited that parents were desperate to offer their daughters, even prepared to pay large bribes to the authorities, to have them sent to me for impregnation. On acceptance, the girls had their hymens surgically removed to make things easier, then they were given a crash course in sex education followed by hormone treatments to cause premature ovulation. There were rules, of course. I could have a blowjob, but only if I needed help to get hard, and I wasn't allowed to cum that way. Anal sex was a complete no-no. And I wasn't allowed to distress the subjects more than necessary, not that they could have done anything about it. The only others present were a handful of female medical staff to look after the subjects' health. That was a sensible precaution. I was the most hated human being of all time, and I couldn't risk someone deciding to give me what they thought I deserved. "And you're okay with that?" "I'm cool. I'll be the first in my class to have sex, and I'm the first in my class to visit space." A virgin, like most of the girls. And despite the advances in artificial gravity, it was impossible to stop irreplaceable calcium leaching from the bones of children during inevitable periods of weightlessness. So children were banned from space. Apart from this situation. "Hop onto the bed then and we'll get down to business." Zoe crawled onto the bed and lay on her back in the middle. I knelt on the foot of the bed, lubing my cock. "Open your legs wide," I instructed. Zoe was a beauty, with gorgeous puffy labia showing pink in the middle. With the first few girls I had tried extended foreplay, including licking their cunnies and playing with their clits. I had stimulated one girl to orgasm and spent half a day with her, something humanity could ill afford. A few others had become slightly moist but mostly it was a waste of time. I moved between the girl's legs. This one was special, like so many, and I would have liked to indulge in foreplay with her, but I was so tired. I settled for giving her a short, gentle rub between the legs. She started when I first touched her, then relaxed and even seemed to get some enjoyment from it. I parted the lips of Zoe's cunny. "Here I come," I warned. "Will it hurt?" she asked. "I'm afraid the first time is usually not much fun. I'll try to get it over with quickly." I thrust in hard, as deep as I could go, which was only about halfway before I hit her cervix. Zoe was hot and tight and I knew that I wasn't going to last long. Zoe grimaced. She wasn't ready for me, but they never are. "I'm sorry, I'll try to be gentle." Zoe nodded her head as though giving her assent for me to continue. Her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes moist, and I knew she couldn't speak or she'd start to cry. I started thrusting in and out of Zoe's cunny, jolting her small body every time. **** The scientists named it homoetherisation. As a child on earth you quickly learn there's an up and a down, due to gravity. Later you learn there's a North and a South, thanks to magnetism. Scientists discovered that the ether also contains an inbuilt set of coordinates. The reasons aren't completely understood, but using colossal amounts of energy it's possible to make a piece of space think it's somewhere else, and hey presto, somehow it is. The discovery of this loophole in the laws of physics meant that people could travel almost anywhere instantaneously, and it fired the imagination of every boy on earth. Like millions of others, I desperately wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up. Experiments taught us that this opportunity had to be handled extremely carefully because there were so many things that could and did go wrong. Humanity built one exceedingly expensive facility out beyond the asteroid belt. A space ship would navigate to a particular region of space near the middle of the facility, massive generators surrounding the region would fire up, the ether would think it was somewhere else and the space ship would propel itself out of the region of space into the unknown. At an agreed time later, usually six months or a year, the generators would fire up again and if the space ship had returned to the region of space being replicated, it would find itself back in the solar system. If the ship didn't make it on time, the generators would fire up again three months later. If the ship didn't make it the second time, the mission was written off as lost. On my eleventh birthday, like every child on the planet, I underwent my mandatory psyche evaluation. It showed that I wouldn't become an alcoholic or drug addict, I wouldn't become a reckless gambler, and I was well suited to the space program. It also said something I didn't understand at the time; it said I would become a pedophile. I looked up the word, but the practical ramifications didn't sink in till much later. It meant that I wouldn't be visiting distant worlds and meeting new civilisations. Instead, I ended up as a uranium miner in the Kuiper Belt, a lonely and dangerous job. Regulations stipulated that everyone who worked off-planet was entitled to three months on earth for every six months away, but since my time on earth was spent in enforced isolation because of my condition, I often went much longer without claiming my due. Exploration found that the universe is a very empty place, and those advanced civilisations we did encounter were generally unwelcoming. The Varg seemed like a rare exception, friendly and welcoming. They even looked a little like us. From my lonely isolation in the Kuiper Belt, I followed the story via internet news broadcasts from earth. At first scientists didn't know the origins of the virus that attacked the human race. It turned out that the Varg had irretrievably damaged their own planet like we nearly did at the end of the twenty-first century, and saw our arrival as an opportunity to use our technology to conquer earth and claim it for themselves. When the penny dropped, we expelled the Varg 'ambassadors' and sent them back to Varga on a ship packed with nukes. As my tour of duty wore on, the horrendous legacy of the Varg virus became apparent - every male primate on earth had been rendered infertile. Earth was quarantined, and everyone still in space was barred from returning. That didn't worry me, as I had little to return for. The transmission method of the virus had not been determined, but scientists had managed to create clean rooms and impregnate women with sperm samples taken from before the attack. Scientists calculated that this would be insufficient to keep the population of earth large enough to sustain its current level of technological civilisation. After several months, scientists worked out that the virus was airborne. Massive filtration complexes were set up to cleanse the earth's air, and after a year the planet was declared safe and space travellers were allowed to return home. Three months later the horrendous miscalculation became apparent. Plants fixed the active virus in their cells and although it was destroyed by cooking, anyone who ate a salad or fresh fruit would be infected. One of the things astronauts most missed when in space was a nice crisp apple, or a fresh, juicy orange. All the returning astronauts became infected and infertile. A couple more years passed. The situation on earth became desperate. The problem with the virus in plants was under control and being fixed a little at a time, but birth rates were down to a handful per year. I had been forgotten about, and I didn't really care. It's only when all the uranium ore collection hoppers were full that I realised I was serving no purpose out in the Kuiper Belt and I set off for home. Earth Defence radar was still working, and I was challenged when I came within range. I gave my details and waited. After a few minutes another voice came on air. "This is General Ivan Bordinov of the United Nations Security Council. How long have you been in space?" I quickly totted it up in my head. "About five years." "And you've had no contact with other humans in that time." "No." "Do you know about the situation on earth?" "Yes, I've kept in touch with the news." "Are you still fertile?" "Yes." I had tested my sperm using the space ship's lab facilities because I expected to be asked this question. I recited my sperm count and heard whoops of celebration in the background. "We're preparing a quarantined landing site for you. You will be giving a lot of sperm samples when you're back on earth. There are an awful lot of women requiring artificial insemination." I thought for a while. It belatedly occurred to me that I might well turn out to be the saviour of the human race, and I was in a strong bargaining position. "No." "What?" The general lost his composure. "It's your duty to humanity. If you don't do as we say, we'll force you," he barked. "You've read my file?" I asked. "Yes." "It seems to me that humanity owes me something after shunning me all these years. I'll tell you what I want and either you agree or I'll just fly back where I came from. There are enough supplies still out there to last me a lifetime and you'll never find me." "Damn you to hell," the general shouted back. The connection went dead. Time passed. One hour, then two then three. I pondered my situation and formulated and refined a set of demands. I was pretty sure I had assessed the situation correctly and they would be desperate for my services. Eventually the radio burst into life again. "Hello, are you still there?" A stupid question, since they could see me on the radar. The voice was mellow and female. "Yes, I'm still here. "My name is Lucinda Whitely. I've been authorised to negotiate on behalf of the UN. Can you let me know what you want? I may be able to accept some conditions immediately, others I'll have to refer to the Security Council." "You know I'm a pedophile, don't you?" "Yes." She disguised any distaste extremely well. "I want a self-contained space station orbiting the earth with the latest artificial gravity devices. You will send subjects up to the space station and I will impregnate them for you. All preteen, good looking, slim, no pubic hair and AA cup maximum." "You realise that very few girls are fertile at that age?" "You can fix that with hormones, can't you?" "I'll look into it. I suppose they all have to be virgins with intact hymens?" "No, in fact it would be easier on the girls if they weren't." I could tell that Lucinda was surprised by that, but I try not to be the monster that everyone expects me to be. We discussed a few more conditions and Lucinda even suggested a few herself. The one about no men on board the space station was her idea since I was an asset that needed protection. Eventually we finished the list and Lucinda said she would go away and propose to the Security Council that they accept. Two days later the Security Council accepted in full. Six months later I had my space station, and they did me proud. Compared to my humble space ship, it seemed the last word in luxury. At first people were disgusted at the idea of sending their preteen daughters to me, but as the earth's plight became more and more apparent, the tide of opinion changed and suddenly everyone wanted to send their daughters. The first few were the most difficult. I'm not a complete monster and I tried to seduce the little beauties. I quickly realised that most of the girls had not yet developed sexual feelings and that spending time on seduction was just a waste. The girls stayed on the station until they were confirmed as pregnant. The hormone treatment meant that the girls often produced multiple eggs, and multiple fertilisation was common. My record so far is nine fertilised embryos growing inside the womb of an eleven- year-old-girl. The girls are far too young to carry to term so back on earth the embryos are extracted when large enough, and re- implanted into surrogate mothers. The girls' mother or a close relative gets the first, the others are allocated by lots from a pool of healthy women deemed likely to be good parents and of the same racial type as the girl. If the girls go two cycles without getting pregnant, they are shipped back to earth as failures. The quality of the girls they send is beyond my wildest dreams, including all races and skin colours. I thought I detected one or two who had cheated and shaved, but provided they look young enough and have undeveloped breasts, I don't complain. **** I felt my groin tighten and my sap start to rise. I speeded up my thrusts into Zoe's tender young body. "Here it comes," I warned her. Suddenly my cock started throbbing and spewing my baby juice into Zoe's unprotected cunny. I kept thrusting until the throbbing died away, then my cock lost its stiffness and slid out. I saw Zoe was still on the point of crying, so I took her in my arms and cuddled her. "It's over now. Thank you. It was a pleasure and I enjoyed your company." At that, Zoe seemed to cheer up a bit. "What do I do now?" she asked. "I can't service another girl for half an hour or so, so we can lie here and rest if you want. Or you can go back to your cabin. There's a refreshment server in the anteroom if you're hungry or thirsty. The medics should be able to tell within a week if it worked. If not we can have another go." "May I stay with you for a while? It feels nice, lying here like this. Some people made you out to be a monster, but you're quite ordinary really." Apart from impregnating thousands of pre-teen girls, that is. "Do you know who will carry the baby?" "My mother." "So you're going to have a brother or sister? Do you mind which?" "It would be nice to have a sister so we could share things, but I'd like a brother too because the human race needs fertile men." Zoe fell asleep in my arms. I cradled her tenderly, gazing at her innocent face. She smelled delicious, the fresh clean scent that only little girls have, and I was tempted to fuck the child again. My cock twitched with anticipation. That set off the alarm bells. I reluctantly shook Zoe awake. "I'm sorry, but it's time for you to go. It's time for my next appointment." "Oh. Okay, and thank you." "No, I thank you." I hugged Zoe tightly then kissed her lightly on the forehead. She reluctantly got off the bed and left through the door barely half an hour after entering, her thighs glistening where my cum had leaked out and dried. I gently washed my cock and patted it dry. With the amount of service it saw, it got sore very easily. I replaced the bed cover and ran the air filter for a couple of minutes to suck away the smell of sex. Then I pushed the button on the intercom. "Next please!" **** The girl who walked through the door was the archetypal teenage boy and middle-aged man's wet dream. Blonde hair, green eyes, pretty face, superb figure. She was well into her teens and filled her white bra and panties quite spectacularly. Certainly bigger than an A cup size, she was not my cup of tea at all. "How did you pass the selection process?" I asked her. "My mother knows a few people." "I'm sorry, but you're far too old for me." "Hasn't my mother spoken to you?" The medics on my space station were excellent, taking good care of the girls and looking after my own occasional health needs. They disguised their distaste for me rather poorly so I tended to avoid them and I certainly didn't socialise with them. The thought that one of them had abused her position to slip her daughter through the selection process annoyed me and I resolved to do something about it. "Who is your mother?" "Lucinda Whitely. I'm Camilla." I didn't recognise the name as belonging to one of the medics, then it suddenly dawned on me. The UN negotiator. I was well aware how much I owed her. I had talked to her a lot in the months following my initial blackmail demand. I was impressed by her professionalism, her calm manner and non-judgementalism. At times, I even wondered if she was somehow on my side. "I haven't spoken to your mother for quite a while," I informed her. Camilla's face dropped despairingly. It really shook me that one of the most well-balanced rational women on the planet was prepared to send her underage daughter to me for impregnation. "Do you know what I am?" I continued. "Yes, mum warned me. She told me you couldn't help yourself and that I shouldn't hate you as a person." I thought for a few moments. "Look, Camilla, I need to talk to your mother. Can you go back to your cabin, and I'll come and see you later." Each girl had her own private cabin while on the space station, that was one of Lucinda's recommendations. I could patch a comm link to the UN from this cabin, but I didn't want to do it in front of Camilla and I needed additional privacy. Camilla told me her cabin number then left with a slight glimmer of hope back in her eyes. I donned a pair of boxer shorts before leaving what I call 'the breeding room'. There's little privacy in space and most people quickly realise there's no point in wearing clothes. Even my basic mining ship had climate control and I habitually went naked. However I had adopted the convention of keeping some modesty in public on the space station so as not to offend the sensibilities of the medics or the girls. I made my way to the space station's comms centre and secured the door behind me. I activated the UN videolink hotline, installation of which had been another of Lucinda's suggestions. "Hi, is there a problem?" I recognised the Afro-Caribbean features of Akindele Bwanda, one of the permanent undersecretaries, and one of the few UN staff who didn't obviously despise me. "No problem, but I need to talk to Lucinda Whitely on a personal matter." "I'll try to track her down, but it might take a while. Shall I ask her to call you?" "I'll wait, thanks." The screen went blank. It was some considerable time before Lucinda appeared on the videolink, and from the buildings in the background she was definitely not at UN Headquarters. The family resemblance to Camilla was obvious. "Hi, it's been a while. How are you keeping?" she asked. I hadn't worked out what to say, so I just said the obvious and watched for the reaction. "Your daughter's on my space station." That was the first time I had ever seen Lucinda rattled. She looked around nervously, checking that nobody could overhear. "She wasn't supposed to arrive for another fortnight, and only if I got your agreement first. I should have called you before now but this Middle East crisis has occupied my full attention. I'm sorry, she must have changed the date on her travel permit. What have you done with her?" Lucinda was gabbling nervously. "Take it easy, your daughter's okay, I sent her back to her cabin until I'd had a chance to talk to you. There's obviously a reason for her coming here, so why don't you talk me through it. And what's happening in the Middle East?" It was hugely ironic that I was more up-to-date with world affairs during my isolation in the Kuiper Belt than I was while hovering a few miles above the earth. "Three major religions are centred here. Each think they are God's chosen people and deserve preferential access to your services. There is continuous rioting and it's all we can do to stop them starting a full-scale war." That was more like the in-control Lucinda I was familiar with, but now she hesitated. I saw her upper lip quiver and her eyes moisten. "There's no easy way to say this." Lucinda spoke in short stacatto sentences as she bared her emotions. "I'm dying of cancer. The latest drugs are slowing its progress, but I've got a year at most. Camilla knows. She asked me what my dying wish would be. I said I'd love to see a grandchild. Camilla is focussed and driven, like me. It was her idea to come to you, and I used my influence to gatecrash the system. I expect I'll lose my job for this, but I don't mind. I'm tired. The job has taken my marriage, my husband and most of my life. Is it too selfish of me to ask for a little in return?" My mind was reeling with the ramifications. I was going to lose the one person in the world I could trust. "No. I owe you big time." "Will you do it for me and Camilla?" "It won't be easy but I'll give it my best shot." "Thank you, that would make me very happy." Something exploded in the background, and people started shouting urgently. Lucinda turned away from the screen while someone spoke to her. When she turned back, professional Lucinda had returned. "I have to go. We're being evacuated because they can't guarantee our safety. I'll call you when I can." The screen went blank. I sat and thought for a while. I didn't want to, but I had to go and face Camilla. I made my way to her cabin and knocked on the door. It was ironic that I was seeking permission to enter since it was my space station. "Come in," Camilla invited via the doorcom. The door slid open. Camilla was sitting on her bed, still in bra and panties. When she saw me, the look of combined hope and desperation again haunted her pretty face. "I've spoken to your mother. She says you weren't due for another fortnight, and then only with my agreement." "She told you about the cancer, and how long she's got left?" "Yes." "I'm right in the middle of my fertile period. Another fortnight would have meant a month's delay." I could see her point, and I grudgingly admired her initiative. "I owe your mother a lot, and I've agreed to help you," I admitted At this revelation, Camilla's face broke into a huge grin. She leapt off the bed and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek and grinding her lightly-clad breasts into my chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." I gently pushed her away. "Look, you know my selection criteria. It's not going to be easy. We might have to resort to artificial insemination, but I'm willing to try the natural way first." "I'd like that. I'd like to sleep with the father of my child." I suppose we could have tried there and then, but instead I delayed the moment of truth. "I guess I owe the world a few more clients today. When I've finished, let's get some food from the refectory and take it back to my private quarters so we can talk." Camilla nodded her agreement, and I made my way back to the 'breeding room'. **** I serviced three more girls. My mind was elsewhere, but my body functioned on autopilot. I have absolutely no memory of the girls, or how they endured the process. Afterwards I met up with Camilla and we went to the refectory. There were no set mealtimes and people tended to eat when they felt like it. There was a handful of girls in the refectory but but no medics. I deliberately avoided looking at the girls in case I recognised them. All conversation stopped when we entered, and I sensed the eyes watching us. Most food on earth is grown in huge protein vats. They produce a nutritious substance that contains everything a human body needs. A simple space ship like my mining vessel was provided with a supply of the basic protein. It's a greyish-green solid without much taste. The substance can be diluted with lots of water to make a sort of soup, a little water to make something with the consistency of porridge, or even chewed dry provided it's well masticated before swallowing. The protein is stored and issued by an auto-chef machine, which can add flavourings like chilli (my favourite) or tomato sauce. I have such a machine in my private quarters so I don't have to meet other people if I choose not to. Protein vats can be seeded with DNA to produce, for example, beef protein. Cows are only found in zoos these days. The auto-chef in the refectory is very sophisticated (thanks to Lucinda) and filled monthly with constantly changing protein types and the appropriate menu programmes to accompany them, and provides a surprisingly wide range of experiences. Last month there was an African theme, including lion, hippopotamus and giraffe protein. I chose steak and chips and Camilla chose chicken curry, and we beat a hasty retreat to my private quarters. As we sat down and started to eat, I initiated the conversation. "How old are you?" "Fourteen three months ago." "If you get pregnant, who's going to carry the baby to term?" "I am." The shocked expression on my face must have been obvious, because Camilla felt the need to explain. "I'm healthy and well developed for my age, and I'll have turned fifteen by the time the baby's due." "Surely the authorities won't let you? You're not here legally and the planetary age of consent is eighteen so they'll extract the embryo when you return to earth." "I was hoping to stay here until the baby's born. The baby will be okay because it's in a weightless environment in the womb anyway. I should be okay too because Mum really went to town with the gravity devices. The ones installed here are so new they aren't commercially available yet, and they're passing tests of suitability for children. I don't mind living in a child cabin." The little minx had certainly thought everything through, including not seeing her mother for nine months. Her hips looked as though they would be wide enough to pass a baby, and even if not, the medics would be capable of performing a C-section. "What if multiple embryos get fertilised?" "I haven't had the hormone treatment!" I guess I should have seen that coming. The girls' fertile periods are altered by the hormone treatments so they reach me at exactly the right time. The fact that Camilla had expedited her arrival by a fortnight implied that she hadn't had the hormone treatments. After that bombshell, the conversation for the rest of the meal was mere trivia related to the operation of the space station. As we sipped our drinks to wash the meal down, I could feel the tension rising as the moment of truth drew near. When I could no longer pretend that my empty beaker held any liquid, I came out with what must rank as one of the worst seduction lines in history. "I guess we'd better get down to making the baby." "What do you want me to do?" "Take your clothes off and lie on the bed." Camilla unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, revealing her firm young breasts in all their glory. Then she peeled her panties down and kicked them over to join her bra. She had a light thatch of blonde hair on her pussy. Damn, I should have asked her to shave but it was too late now. Gracefully Camilla walked to the bed and lay down with her legs apart. I peeled off my boxers and kicked them over to join Camilla's underwear. Another damn, as my lifeless cock dangled uselessly. I crawled onto the bed between Camilla's legs. Although her nubile body was doing nothing for me, at least I could try to make things more pleasant for her. I planted butterfly kisses on the inside of her ankles, then gently worked my way up the insides of her legs. Camilla relaxed and I could feel some of the tension in the air dissipate. I ignored Camilla's pussy for the moment, and kissed my way up her belly, licking her belly button, then up to her breasts. I took one nipple into my mouth while gently squeezing the other. I groped the other breast, squeezing it tenderly so as not to hurt Camilla. I didn't really know what to do with breasts since my usual partners didn't have any. "Let me know if I hurt you." "That's good. Harder, harder," urged Camilla in a husky voice. I used both hands to knead both breasts violently, until they became suffused with angry red streaks and I judged it was time to pay some attention to Camilla's pussy. I rubbed it while probing gently with a finger. Camilla was quite moist. Holding the pussy hair at bay, I parted her labia and lowered my head. I licked the length of her cunny ending at her tiny erect little button. Camilla moaned with pleasure. I tested Camilla's cunny with a finger and found a surprise - her hymen was intact! Camilla was a virgin, and not having passed through the selection process she hadn't had her hymen surgically removed. I should have guessed. I continued to lick Camilla's cunny and tease her clit. Her breathing became shallower and more rapid and I tried to keep pace. Suddenly every muscle seemed to clench and she let out a squeal. She pressed her cunny into my face and I could feel the throbbing as orgasm swept over her. I continued to lick and tease, prolonging the orgasm as long as I could, but eventually it died away and Camilla relaxed again. "God, that was amazing," she said in a quiet voice. "Your face is wet!" Camilla's juices were dripping off my chin. I wiped myself dry. "You did that," I accused light-heartedly. "Are you going to fuck me now?" "We have a problem," I admitted. My cock was dangling flaccidly between my legs. "I may be able to help with that." Camilla got on her hands and knees, took the head of my cock in her mouth and started sucking. She grasped the shaft with one hand and started pumping. Slowly my cock struggled to life. "How did you learn to do that?" I asked delightedly. Camilla let the head of my cock slip out of her mouth but continued pumping the shaft. "I studied some porn movies before I set off, just in case." Camilla then licked the underside of my shaft right down to the balls, causing me to shiver. "Oh God, yes," I encouraged her. Camilla resumed sucking the head of my cock and pumping the shaft. She cupped my balls with her spare hand and massaged them with a featherlight touch. I felt my groin start to tighten and I pushed her away. She looked crestfallen. "Sorry, was I doing it wrong?" "No, you were doing it too well. I nearly came in your mouth. I think I'm ready for you now." My cock was rock hard and precum was seeping from the eye. Camilla lay back down on the bed with her legs wide open. I knelt between them and manoeuvred into position. Already I could feel my hard-on subsiding. I looked at Camilla's flared hips, the tuft of blonde pubic hair, the ripe young breasts. Then I smelt her womanly scent and I was lost. My cock was now only half erect, not capable of penetrating Camilla's hymen. I pulled away. "I'm sorry," I admitted, ashamed, "I just can't do this. We'll have to use artificial insemination." I got off the bed, selected a clean beaker and started to rub my flaccid cock. Camilla was watching me carefully. This was turning into a nightmare, now I couldn't even masturbate. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something other than Camilla watching me. Suddenly I remembered Zoe, the really cute child from earlier that day with the delicious scent. My cock stirred to life and grew hard. As I pumped my shaft, I used my mind to replay the experience of Zoe's slender thighs and tight little cunny. My cock was now rock hard and I knew I wasn't far away. Camilla broke my concentration with an insightful observation. "You're fantasising, aren't you." I awoke from my reverie and released my cock, the magic broken. A drop of precum seeped from the tip. "Yes," I admitted ruefully. "Do I know her?" Camilla hadn't judged me so far, so I decided to risk telling her. "One of my appointments today, a girl called Zoe." "I've met her!" exclaimed Camilla with a note of childish excitement in her voice. "She's really pretty and lovely person too. You made a good choice." My cock was shrinking rapidly now, and Camilla realised what she'd done by interrupting me. But then, without a hint of jealousy, she came up with an extraordinary suggestion. "Do you think you could fantasise about Zoe while fucking me?" I thought for a while. "We might be able to make it work. The problem is that Zoe has a unique scent that really turns me on. If she were here in the room with us so I could smell her instead of you, I think I could do it." In retrospect, Camilla could easily have taken offence at this slight against her natural scent, but she had her mother's focussed practical attitude. She alighted from the bed and put her bra and panties back on. "I'll fetch her. I know which cabin she's in." Camilla left my quarters with a spring in her step. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. "We're here," Camilla called through the doorcom, and I let them in. I smirked involuntarily at the wet patch on the crotch of Camilla's panties. She saw where I was looking and blushed. "Oh God, I wonder how many people saw that!" Zoe saw too and tried to stifle a giggle. This time Zoe was dressed in a pink t-shirt a blue shorts. "Right, everyone take their clothes off," ordered Camilla. I was still naked, but Camilla quickly slipped out of her bra and sex- stained panties. I watched Zoe take slightly longer to shed her t- shirt and shorts. When I saw her prepubescent beauty in all its glory, my cock twitched back to life. "How do you want to do this?" asked Camilla. I thought for a while. "I can't be on top of you and I can't be behind you. I think I'll have to be lying with you sitting on me. And Zoe, since you have to be closer to my nose than Camilla, you'll have to sit on my face. Are you happy with that?" Funny, earlier that day Zoe had had no choice while I fucked her. Now I was asking her permission to use her. "If that's okay with Camilla." I saw why Camilla liked Zoe so much. She was in a situation that no- one could ever have prepared her for and yet her first consideration was for others. I laid on the bed, my cock flaccid again. Camilla came and knelt over my groin and I felt the heat of her thighs on my hips. Zoe came and knelt over my head so I could smell her delicious scent. "Move forwards a bit. Now lower yourself," I instructed her. Zoe's beautiful bald pussy was now directly over my mouth. I parted her labia and started to lick inside. Although Zoe's body blocked my view, I felt Camilla suck my cock into her mouth. Zoe smelt clean and fresh outside but there was slightly bitter salty taste inside so although she'd showered after I'd fucked her, she'd been careful not to clean my baby juice from her cunny. I was fully hard now, so Camilla released my cock from her mouth. I felt her shift position so that my cock was at the entrance to her cunny. I was licking Zoe's cunny with a vengeance, and I was rewarded with a little moistness. Camilla pushed down gently, but the head of my cock reached her hymen and wouldn't go any further. I broke off from twirling Zoe's cute little button with my tongue. "Thrust down hard," I shouted. I pushed my tongue into Zoe's cunny just as Camilla thrust down hard on my cock. Zoe squealed with pleasure while Camilla grunted with pain when my cock burst through her hymen and plunged deep inside her. I licked the length of Zoe's cunny while Camilla held herself completely still to let the pain subside. At last Camilla started fucking me, raising and lowering herself on my cock. Her cunny was hot and tight and she was able to take almost the whole of my length, but I still preferred Zoe. I took a deep breath to savour Zoe's delicious little girl scent while imagining it was her cunt that was fucking me. I felt my groin tighten, and I knew this was going to work. As my cock throbbed its first spurt of baby- juice into Camilla, I sucked Zoe's clit into my mouth and gently nipped it with my teeth. Zoe squealed and gripped my head tightly between her thighs as she reached orgasm, pushing her cunny down hard on my mouth. I took another deep breath of her irresistible scent and kept on spurting. Suddenly Camilla's body responded in kind as she too reached orgasm, her pulsating cunny milking the baby-juice from my cock and prolonging my orgasm. At last we all collapsed in a post orgasmic heap. This time it was Zoe's juices I had to wipe from my chin. "Wow!" was all any of us could say at first. Zoe noticed the bloodstained cum seeping from Camilla's cunny. She swiped it up onto her index finger which she then inserted them into her own cunny. "No point in wasting it," she observed. **** Two years have passed since that fateful day. I only ever fucked Camilla that one occasion and she struck lucky first time. General Bordinov tried to order the space station to be blasted out of the sky when he discovered that I had Lucinda's pregnant daughter on board. Lucinda is dead now but she got her wish to see a grandchild, our son Daniel. It was considered too dangerous for me to go to earth for the funeral so it was held in space, Lucinda's ashes being blasted into space. Before she died, Lucinda completely renegotiated my treaty with the UN for me. My space station is now a sovereign state, with Camilla, now sixteen, my ambassador to the UN. She spends most of her time on earth with Daniel and I think she's rather keen on Arima, the eighteen year old son of Akindele Bwanda. I've met him and he's a nice lad so I'm happy for her, but she insists she's too young to settle down. Zoe produced five viable embryos, all successfully carried to term by surrogate mothers. Zoe, now thirteen, is my wife. The return of Zoe to the space station, with her full and delighted consent, was arranged by Lucinda. Zoe's well into puberty now with rapidly growing breasts and widening hips. Somehow it doesn't matter, she smells the same and I just can't get enough of her. Her only concession is to shave her pussy for me. We have lots and lots of sex but we're not going to have any more children until she's fully mature. Can a pedophile ever be "cured"? I don't know, but if anyone can cure me it's Zoe. I no longer take children for impregnation. Instead I supply sperm samples and ship them down to earth for artificial insemination. That way the authorities can impregnate far more subjects, and it's beginning to look as though civilisation on earth will survive. Zoe helps me produce the sperm samples, as does Camilla when she's here. Camilla still does an irresistible blow-job, pulling her mouth away just as I start to spurt. My kids with Zoe now live with us on the space station after the surrogate mothers were given cash compensation plus artificial insemination so that they could bear biologically-related children. The kids have just started to toddle and are proving quite a handful so I'm grateful Lucinda negotiated for some of the medics to stay and help look after them. The medics are keeping a close eye on their health and so far they're developing normally despite the artificial gravity. The medics still don't like me, but they love Zoe and treat her like a daughter. In about ten years time my male offspring should start to produce their own sperm and make me redundant. Thanks to Lucinda I have the rights to the mined Uranium ore awaiting collection from the Kuiper Belt, so money should never be a problem. Who knows what the future holds? But right now, life is good. <2nd attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+