More than 25 millennia ago, mankind began the first tentative steps towards the stars, slowly, blindly, making his way to the nearest systems outside his own. Generations lived and died on the long interstellar voyages; the first humans to set foot on another planet had never seen earth, or their parents, or their parents' parents. The first colonies were completely on their own, cut off by untold and uncounted miles from any assistance. Most colonies died alone and unlamented; a scattered few survived and prospered. And the exodus continued.

With the discovery of warp drive came the Great Expansion, as what was once a journey of several centuries became a journey of several days. Soon mankind was exploring all of the nearby stars. The galaxy itself contains two hundred billion stars. Of these, only a fraction are orbited by planets which are habitable or are within the capability of human engineering to make habitable. And of these few, fewer still have been investigated and settled by humans. This 'few' however, numbers millions of worlds. This story begins in a building on a small moon.

The building was a large, brutalist slab, cubic, nestled in rock, tucked away on a particularly unobtrusive moon in a neglected part of the furthest co-ordinates of space. It was the galactic home of an agency known only as the Agency, a well-funded but secretive interstellar organisation which engaged in intelligence, surveillance and espionage work.

Inside the building, a woman waited in a conference room.

'Ah, agent Knox, sorry to have kept you.'

'Good morning, sir.'

Special Agent Anderson crossed the briefing room and settled into the chair at the far end of the long conference desk. It was mahogany, real wood, which was expensive, but the Agency could afford it. Anderson, a greying, fiftyish man with a relaxed, unruffled demeanour, briskly snapped open the file that he carried with him and mused on the contents of the first page. He did not look up, across the table.

Seated there, with her legs crossed and her posture relaxed, but alert, was a luminously beautiful and captivatingly sexy woman. She was wearing professional attire befitting a member of the Agency, though customised more than a little in the direction of beyond the boundaries of decency. Clad in a pure white and absolutely skintight bodysuit, one which shone and glistened in the strip-lighting of the room, it clasped her sublime and astonishing curves as if moulded to her flesh. Other than a couple of discreet pockets and sashes to hold important items about her person, the suit was largely undecorated, the woman favouring a pair of white stiletto heeled ankle boots on her feet. There was a standard Agency-issue sidearm fitted into a holster clasped to her right leg.

The only flesh which could be seen was the tip of the woman's shoulders, which the suit was turned up against, revealing deeply tanned, shiny skin. Slender metal flexible sheaths, segmented into different parts, ran down both of the woman's arms, which looked a little like customised, arm-length gloves. In fact these arm-coverings, a little like long metallic bracers, held a great deal of instrumentation and equipment. The woman wore shiny white fingerless gloves so that a couple of rings could be observed on her slender fingers. The rings were weapons, one a laser device, the other a needle projectile capable of delivering a monomolecular cord of wire short distances.

Her stomach muscles could be easily observed, seeing as the suit which she wore was little more than a no-more than millimetre thick, shiny film flush against her flesh. This made it impossible to ignore the astounding definition of her sculptured abdominal muscles, her slender, waspish torso, a deep groove running down the middle of her abdomen which was bisected by smooth ranks of rock hard bulges of stomach muscles. However, the woman's most arresting feature was the pair of gargantuan breasts that projected from her chest, a striking disjunction formed between the perfectly flat proportions of her ripped abs and the two huge mounds that sprung out of the top of them. The woman was beyond stacked. Her boobs were epic globes that stuck out from her chest easily more than half a foot, each much larger than her head in size. The two orbs were very obviously impossibly solid and firm, projecting in front of her in almost perfect spheres. The material of her suit cleaved to them perfectly to the point where every definition of her small, neat, nipples could be seen with absolute clarity. Her face was totally perfect, beyond description, a dream. To look at it was to enter a state of unfulfillable longing, a permanent state of emergency that destroyed all small pleasures. She was, at the moment, blonde, but could with a swift decision, change to whatever colour she chose, such had cosmetic procedures improved.

Currently, her legs were crossed, but had she chosen to open them, the skintight material would transparently reveal her slit.

'This is good,' mused Anderson, still looking at the file, 'a good clean mission.'

'Clean' wasn't the word that Gina would have chosen to describe her previous mission, the gorgeous woman reflecting on the amount of times during her escapades that she had been blasted with epic loads of cum, almost wincing at the memory of each cannonade of hot, creamy sperm smacking directly into her face. Since this had occurred, during a two-week mission, several hundred times, quite a number of memories came back to her.

'Thank you sir,' Gina said.

'No, I mean it, Knox. You got in there, you did your job, and you got out. I hate to see messy work.'

Gina didn't mind messy work so much, having, for a large portion of the mission, spent a great deal of time with ropes of jizz dangling from her chin or the undersides of her enormous tits. Gina loved nothing more than being shameless and debauched than being seen to be shameless and debauched, and as much of her previous mission as possible had been conducted with thick loads of semen caked across her face, ropes of it hanging in her hair, and gluing her eyes half shut. Of course, at the Agency, going around in such a state was grounds for instant dismissal, and for today's debriefing she had cleaned up her face somewhat if not her act. The thought of this began to make her pussy juice, and she suppressed a shudder as she put her hands in her lap.

'How was your contact on the planet' We set you up with one of our best operatives there.'

Gina suppressed a smile. Now that had been quite a de-brief in itself. The Agency had put her into contact with a sixteen-inch cocked stud on the mission, and Gina found this more than quite appealing. In an era of affordable beauty, penile extensions were no longer a rarity, though even the most talented doctors encountered difficulties pushing men past the fourteen inch range. A sixteen inch dick was something that Gina like very much, and had demonstrated this on many occasions by having this stud shove this monstrous schlong in her asshole over and over again. The contact, stuck on a secluded world halfway across the galaxy, couldn't believe his luck when Gina had arrived on the planet and contacted him. The amount of sperm he had pumped over her over the course of the two weeks could have filled a modestly-sized swimming-pool. When Gina wasn't wearing it, she was gulping it down. As a farewell gift to commemorate their tryst, Gina had coaxed the stud into filling a suitably large capsule with his cum, which she then enjoyed herself by slurping with a straw on the voyage home. Gina had certain casks and containers which could keep whatever was placed in them indefinitely fresh; on this occasion she was pleased that she had one of sufficient volume.

'Any problems with your cover?' Anderson said.

'None at all, sir.'

Gina had posed as a high-class hooker to gain access to a governmental official on a word called Garavast. There had been an amount of fucking and sucking involved in order for Gina to convince those hiring her that she was the real deal, but possibly the most exhilarating aspect of the mission had been fucking her way through the mark's bodyguards, performing for the minister, who liked to 'watch', as she sustained a six-hour orgy with his entourage of ten escorts, until they were piled in the floor around her feet, a plateau of muscles and cum, leaving her free for some 'alone time' with the minister.

'There are, I must admit, some fairly lurid accounts of what you had to do in your report,' Anderson said. 'I hope they weren't too distressing.'

'Anything for the Agency,' Gina said. She uncrossed and crossed her legs. Either Anderson was of the persuasion not interested in women, or his careful studying of the post-operation file was in order to restrain himself from ogling Gina too directly.

'Good,' said Anderson briskly, shutting the case and looking at her for the first time, 'because we have another mission for you. Immediately, if you want to accept it.'

Gina sat up again, snapping her hands from her lap, suddenly interested again.

Anderson pressed a button and a section of the desk slid away, allowing for a graphical representation of a planetoid to appear in holographic form between them.

'This is Darvon,' Anderson began, 'you won't have heard of it, but there's a pretty large population there. Temperate, mainly inhabitable jungle, but otherwise liveable and host to a number of hive-cities, each with about half a billion inhabitants. We think there's something in the process of occurring politically there and we want you to go and keep an eye on it.'

'Darvon is built around a caste system, and it seems like the tide might be turning against the ruling oligarchy. For years they've controlled the planet on a mix of divine right justification which has eventually been watered down into a system of rights and laws.'

'What kind of thing politically?'

'Lots of laws for the poor, not so many for the rich?'

'Along those lines. You'll have time to study the details enroute. It looks like there's either an insurrection in the offing or full-scale civil war. Either way, Interplanetary Administration has put a stop on all travel to and from the planet.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'There's a delicate balance of power, not just on that world, but in the surrounding solar system. Other planets are worried about a domino effect. They're founded on similar political systems. We want you to get on the surface and keep an eye on things. Find out what's happening and give us reports. You can take off now in your own ship. Our people on the inside can get your ship clearance to the surface of the planet.'

'How is that going to happen?' Gina asked.

'You're to dock at Spaceport IV orbiting Darvon,' Anderson said. 'As I said, Interplanetary Admin has put a stop on all travel, but we've got a couple of people friendly to the Agency inside that particular port.'

Spaceports were huge vessels that orbited planets, some staffed and manned by as many as tens of thousands of people. All colonised planets had a number of spaceports orbiting them, and the huge centres proved useful in providing goods and services for travellers, eliminating the necessity of having to land on the planets themselves. The spaceports were never named, and were only ever referred to by their numeral. Interplanetary Administration stepped in to put a hold on space travel around the immediate vicinity of a planet's orbit in situations of political instability in case the planet's anti-space weaponry fell into aggressive hands. Yet during travel embargoes surface-to-orbit movement did occur, and the way to do it was by bribes to get onboard official ships or to take a chance on unregistered flights. No-one ever really considered the possibility of anti-space weaponry being used to be credible, certainly not indiscriminately on random ships. The hold on travel was more of a resort that was imposed in name only, but there were not many that took exemplary notice of it. An operative of Gina's ability would have negligible difficulty in getting down to the surface from the spaceport. Nevertheless, it was nice to have a friend or two on the port itself.

'What do you want me to do when I get onto the planet?' Gina asked.

'At the moment we just want you to observe what happens. If a genuinely revolutionary situation develops, we need to be on top of it. Go and get us some current intel. Find out what sort of movement are being formed politically and if there's anyone at the head of them.'

'Doesn't sound too difficult, sir.'

'Consider it a holiday after your good work on the previous mission,' Anderson said, snapping the file closed.

**

Even by the standards of ships that could set down upon the surfaces of worlds, Gina's ship, a regulation Agency Kestrel, was singularly sleep and streamlined for rapid departure or arrival through atmosphere. Only warp engines jutted notably from the hull, and they were contoured cleverly as wings. Gina noted that the ship's supplies had already been restocked, despite the fact that she had been out of the hatch no less than two hours before her return. Either the Agency were surpassing themselves with their deserved reputation for efficiency, or Anderson knew that she would accept the mission and had personally instructed that her ship be made immediately operational for swift departure.

Actually, Gina noted with a little smile to herself, the efficiency wasn't perhaps all it could have been. At the foot of one of her ship's landing struts, she spied a mechanic tinkering with some controls, a panel open in the side of the smooth metal, a clunky box of tools open on the floor beside him.

'Now that's a big, bulging toolbox,' she said, after closing soundlessly behind the mechanic, putting on her most succulent, sensual voice.

The mechanic, a broad-shouldered man in overalls, turned. Gina smiled at a face she recognised.

'Paul!'

'Hi Gina,' the mechanic said. He was a muscular, good looking young man with short-cropped blonde hair. Though he hadn't told Gina, Paul had discovered that her ship was docking that day and had cleared his schedule to come down to the bay and see if he could catch sight of her. Paul, like every single person who worked at the Agency, had an unfathomably deep crush on Gina and had run into her a couple of times in the past during her various briefs and debriefs at the station. There were pictures of Gina, some in tasteful magazine poses, say dappled in sweat and straining at a gym-machine, bending over a hover-bike or provocatively hefting plasma-weapons (with the phrase 'It'll blow a man to heaven' written alongside) all around the more blue-collar sections of Agency HQ, and to the people that made the place run she was something of a living legend. Paul was one of these people and many of these images had been seared into his brain over the long, lonely stay in deep-space. The pictures had been taken as part of a more light-hearted and informal part of internal Agency policy, a policy that the more hardcore versions that Gina had taken part in around the base out of the goodness of her heart had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with. These featured Gina in poses such as sporting bulging, vein-ripped fourteen-inch cocks protruding from her asshole with her looking over her shoulder at the camera with her hand over her mouth and a look in her eyes as if she had been caught doing nothing so very immodest as being caught stealing stationary, or such as having two utterly spent footlong schlongs resting on top of her enormous mounds of titflesh, with cum smeared down the inside of her cleavage and hanging from her chin. The long and short of it was, Gina's visit to the station was something of a big deal. Especially for Paul, seeing as the last time she had come to the station he had finally got the guts to introduce himself to her.

'You remember me,' said Paul, genuinely surprised, immensely flattered, and totally tongue tied.

'Of course,' said Gina, frowning a little, smiling, as if it were impossible that she wouldn't have, 'do you remember me?'

'O-of course Agent Knox,' Paul said.

'Gina.'

'Gina.'

'Will she fly?' said Gina.

'She'd better,' said Paul, 'I checked the schedule and your launch is go in twelve minutes.'

'Hmmm,' said Gina, sliding closer to Paul, 'well seeing as it takes me five minutes to prep the ship, I hope you don't have too much left to do here.'

Paul gulped, reached a hand out and snapped the panel shut. 'Just finished,' he said.

'Good,' said Gina, before sliding to her knees in front of Paul and unzipping his overalls with her left hand, before pausing to spit into the palm of her right, 'then that leaves us seven minutes...'

Paul looked around furtively, astounded as Gina fished her stealthy hand around inside his overall before withdrawing his huge member into the cool air of the hanger. No-one was around, which was good, because he felt so hard that his massive, pulsing member would have been visible, ironically enough, from space.

'Fourteen inches,' whistled Gina, 'not bad...'

'How do you know just by looking at it?' Paul said.

'Practice,' said Gina, before sinking her lips forwards and engulfing the thick length in one go, before withdrawing and fisting the turgid monstercock in her right hand.

Paul groaned as Gina proceeded to jackhammer her head back and forwards the full-length of his rod, engulfing every inch of the monstrously sized shaft, enjoying the feeling of the hot, slick meat shunting through her moist mouth and penetrating her throat, the top-heavy, massive-titted slut filling her oesophagus with the throbbing tube. Withdrawing the gargantuan penis from her maw, Gina gazed wantonly at the meaty arrowhead that pointed directly at her face and spat a few frothy wads of saliva onto the shiny tip before once again entrenching it into her gullet.

'How about giving me a snack for a long space journey, Paul?' Gina said with a wink, looking upwards as Paul leaned backwards, the knuckles of his hands clasped white against the foot of the ship's landing strut. All the white her fingerless-gloved hands were a blur against the pillar of flesh that they were jacking.

Paul's entire body shuddered as he came, nothing but a strangulating whimper escaping his mouth as a jet of cum squirted from the tip of his cock and ejected out in a white beam from the bell-shaped head, the gluey rope firing out well over Gina's head to smack against the hull of she behind her. Another rope followed in the same trajectory, until Gina angled Paul's cock downwards with her right hand and squeezed his lurching testicles with her left, successfully allowing the next pulse of hot semen to smack directly between her eyes. Giggling, Gina kept jacking Paul's convulsing rod as three more shots blasted from the mechanic's dick to land in three diagonal stripes across her face, each one beginning in the hair on one side of her face and ending in the hair on the other, with the gooey lines plastered one across her forehead and over her right eye, tailing off into her right ear, the other across her forehead and over the bridge of her nose and the other across her left eye, over the tip of her nose and splashed across her mouth.

With Paul still gasping, Gina rose to her feet and blew him a cum-bubble kiss, checking her watch briskly. 'Done with two minutes to spare!' she said, 'now hurry up out of the dock, I'd hate to fry you with my rockets!'

Spinning on her heels, Gina turned, and for the first time saw where Paul's first two errant shots had been dispatched. Painted against the hull was a cartoon depiction of herself with her huge tits popping out of a latex bra in the style of fighter planes from several millennia ago. The image of Gina was one where her eye was closed in a saucy wink and her mouth was open and smiling. One almighty gob of cum was caked against the cartoon eye, and the other line was across the huge, bursting boobs of the hyperstencilled image.

Gina looked over her shoulder and then turned, replicating the pose on the side of her ship, cum in both her own eye and the eye of the cartoon image of her. Paul had no real time to process this image other than momentarily, before Gina turned again and fled, quickly skipping up the ramp of her ship.

Gina travelled naked whenever she could, and had tipped a glass full of cum from the stayfresh canisters into a cocktail glass directly after setting the co-ordinates for Darvon and shucking out of her white, skintight suit. Reclining in the control-centre chair, she selected one of her favourite dildos from a rack in the arm of the seat and kicked her mile long legs up, resting her heels on the panel in front of her. On her feet were a pair of fur-trimmed high-heeled slippers, and her eyes were hidden by a pair of shades.

With one hand Gina placed the broad-brimmed glass to her pouting lips and inclined it to take a long swallow of the creamy sperm, relishing the thick, warm liquid and coming away with a slender thread of the cum stretching from her bottom lip to the rim of the glass. Her other hand was well-employed, currently massaging the tightly clenched muscles of her asshole until she found it time to insert the huge dildo into her cinnamon ring. This she did, gasping as the tool entered her rectum and moving it in and out, before taking another sip of cum. Soon, after a few minutes of this she was furiously slamming the fake-cock into her butthole and wailing until her juicing pussy convulsed and squirted, spewing a fountain of her girlcum onto the console in front of her. The cocktail glass was in place, however, and Gina found that her copious ejaculate had filled it to overfilling, a miniature galaxy of sperm now rotating in the ocean of her fluids, which she raised to her lips and drank down.

About an hour or so after she'd gulped down a glass full of her favourite cocktail, Gina appeared from inside the small shower cubicle, emerging through the sliding door amidst a cloud of steam, beads of water and mist clinging to practically every inch of her curvaceous frame. Since she knew that the warp drive meant that the journey to Darvon's Spaceport IV wouldn't take more than a few hours, Gina had been quite efficient in how she'd first completed her daily workout, then had some food to provide her with some nourishment to supplement her largely cum-based diet, and rounding things off by taking a shower before proceeding to review and modify her appearance.

Stopping to admire her reflection in the full-sized mirror that was mounted onto her bathroom wall, Gina smiled at what she was seeing as she traced her hands up over the sharp contours of her fit midriff before cupping as much as she could of her firm, full breasts, the two ginormous orbs of lavishly tanned titflesh dwarfing her slender hands as she pushed them together to have her cleavage be transformed into nothing more than a thin line running down the middle of the vast expanse of her bulging breasts.

What Gina did next was to showcase her dexterity to no one in particular through the way in which she spun round to present her juicy ass to the mirror, though she averted her gaze from it long enough to let the dirty smile that she was sporting register before she went on to stare lustfully at her heart-shaped posterior as she moved her left hand in behind her and employed it to seize hold of the firm flesh of the left one of her perfectly rounded buttocks and force it aside so that she could reach in with her right hand as well.

Unleashing a long, horny moan that seemed as though it could very well go on forever, Gina slowly extracted the dildo from inside her ass, her legs twitching a little as the fake cock resisted her efforts to exit it through her distended cinnamon ring, a moan that then turned into a full-blown shriek of uninhibited delight when she fell victim to the temptation of letting her left hand let go of her asscheek and instead come back round to start toying with her clit, thereby causing a deluge of her clear girlcum to sprayed across the bathroom-floor.

Once her volatile orgasm was over, Gina finally allowed the rounded tip of the huge dildo to slip free of her ass, and she playfully patted her left hand against her foaming honeypot right up till the moment that she could instead start rubbing the dildo against it, twirling the fake cock around between her puffy labia until the whole length of it had been equipped with a thick, glossy layer of her orgasmic juices, at which point she brought it up to her lush lips and twirled it around once more as she rapidly fed it into her mouth until her lips were clamped against its base as she stood with her smooth cheeks having sunk in a little and her nose aimed at the ceiling.

When Gina had pulled the dildo from her mouth, she held it up horizontally between herself and the mirror, observing for a moment or two how long tendrils of her saliva dangled off it, and considered sticking it between her huge boobs, where it could stay until she needed it again, but instead choosing to spear it through her ringpiece, with her reaction to having it inserted all the way to the hilt up her anal passage being to send forth cascading gushes of girlcum to splash across the mirror.

After she'd enjoyed how her recently projected girlcum served to distort her mirror image, Gina finally exited her bathroom, producing a largely uninterrupted cannonade of gasps and moans as she sashayed her way a short distance down the main corridor that ran down the spine of her sleek ship before darting into her dressing room and heading straight for the slightly ominous-looking chair that stood in the middle of it.

Equipped with black padding and an adjustable back and seat, the chair was flanked on all sides by screens and thick wiring, with a keyboard and a large screen mounted on a swivelling arm that was placed directly in front of the right-side armrest, and Gina let out another horny gasp as she first pushed a few inches of the dildo out through her widened sphincter and then took a seat in the chair.

At first activating the interface on her right side, Gina then leaned over to her left and retrieved a small tube of lube from inside the compartment that was built into the chair, rapidly unscrewing its top as the large screen in front of her projected images of her front, back and sides, choosing 'Delete' from the menu that took up the far-left side of the screen, and then cooed as she applied the cool lube to her pelvis, rubbing it all over the black star that she had had tattooed there before the last mission.

She then picked up the small scanner that was mounted in a holster on the outside of the right armrest, and ran it up over the lubed-up area so that the blue light being emitted from it washed over the tattoo until it and the gel had disappeared altogether, leaving no traces behind as they vanished into thin air. Gina then quickly repeated the process until every last one of her tattoos had been gotten rid off, after which she rewarded herself for a job well done by leaning back in the chair and spreading her legs so that she could easily and quickly plunge the dildo in and out of her bunghole until thick sprays of her juices shot across the room and she was left to quiver and buck in her seat.

Gina then retrieved the couple of scanners which would be required to equip her with new tattoos, and scrolled through her archive to see if anything caught her eye. The first tattoo that she settled for was an old classic, and soon she had a stretch of stylized black barb wire running round her right arm, a few inches below the armpit.

'Hmm, this one's a nice way of finding out literate and who isn't,' Gina decided as she came across an image of another one of her old favourites, and so she soon had the word 'Cumslut' emblazoned in fine black print across the top of her hairless vaginal mound.

Next, she had a pattern of swirling black lines tattooed onto her bronzed skin, running up over the outside and front of her left thigh before breaking up to stretch itself out across her stomach, crotch and the small of her back, with one them ending right at the top of the deep, narrow crack of her juicy ass.

Satisfied with her choice of tattoos, Gina leaned back and resumed seesawing the dildo in and out of her ass, her legs spread so that they were dangling over the armrests of the chair as she considered whether or not she should do something about her hair, though her thoughts on the matter were finally dissolved as she was rocked by another tremendously powerful anal orgasm that had her squirting out more of her juices.

Minutes later, Gina had reached a decision on the colour of her hair, and was now standing in front of one of her sleek metal wardrobes with each tress of her silky hair being either of a lustrous blonde variety or shimmering black, with her back arced a little and the fat base of the dildo from between her buttocks as she tried to come to a conclusion on what to wear. While the tight white bodysuit that she'd had on during her briefing a few hours earlier was definitely not something which she objected to, the circumstances during which she'd last worn it meant that she was now aching to put on a radically different sort of outfit, preferably one which left as much smooth, tanned skin exposed as possible.

To that end, she started off by picking out a pair of transparent stripper sandals, complete with long stiletto heels and a platform designed to raise her toes a few inches off the ground, and soon had her ginormous knockers rubbing against her thighs as she fixed the network of thin transparent straps which hugged her firm calves, with her position of standing with her back bent and her ass thrust upwards meaning that she just had to reach behind her and bite her lip and close her eyes as she forced the dildo deeper into her ass.

The insides of her thighs now soaked with a layer of her wetness that reached all the way down to just above her knees, Gina next picked out a skimpy thong that was made from black latex, slipped it up over her legs and enjoyed how it clung to her dripping wet snatch, and turned to face another full-sized mirror, the right side of her mouth curling itself upwards into a sluttish, contented smile at how the thin, gleaming straps of the thong came in over her hips and plunged down towards her crotch so that they formed a V, with the top of the front of it being low enough that anyone who dared look would not have any trouble spotting the tattoo that adorned the top of her vaginal mound.

Contemplating changing to a silk thong instead, as that would easily show off just how soaked her honeypot was, Gina opted to stay with the black latex one that she'd put on, after which she proceeded to have more of her wetness come seeping out of her bald, pink slit as she played with the thought of deciding that her outfit was complete like this, but then cast aside that idea and reached into the wardrobe to pull out a clothes hanger on which several of her favourite tops were placed.

The top that she had picked out before putting the hanger back in the wardrobe was also made from black latex, although with a very narrow pink border. The border needed to be extremely narrow, because the whole top was of a width would have made it appear quite thin if it was used as a belt. Suspended across Gina's huge tits, it looked downright obscene, which was precisely the look that she was going for, hence the decision to wear a top that was barely an inch wide, while the tiny, silvery buckle that was suspended over her cleavage was of a sort that ensured that all she had to do was to press a finger against it, and it would snap apart and release its hold of her perfect, spherical tits.

To that slutty ensemble, Gina added a pair of fingerless gloves, made from the same glossy material as her thong and 'top', and reaching up to just below her elbow.

Now the only thing that remained to do was to gather her equipment, and reach a decision on whether or not she should board Spaceport IV with her infinitely stretchable cinnamon ring still hugging the base of the thick, long dildo.

At length Gina decided that it would be best to remove the dildo from her anus, even though she was deriving a considerable amount of pleasure from the way the digitally enhanced chromium fuckstaff pulsed against her rectal passage. Extracting it slowly with the tip of her finger and thumb, she still decided that it may still be useful to her, and after popping the fake cock in her mouth and cleaning it of her delicious juices, she slid the slobber-coated instrument between her boobs, lodging the tube between the narrow crevice of her cleavage, the two huge mounds currently pushed together by the thin strap that was her top. Now her look was completed, the dildo shoved between her enormous knockers.

This final part of preparation completed, Gina was ready as soon as her sleek ship slid on autopilot into one of the stations of the docking bay and swooped into a letter-box shaped aperture in the side of the huge ship, whereupon it settled next to a row of different shaped vessels that were from each imaginable reach of the galaxy. As such, there was a broad array of shapes and sized of ships, though they were all personal transport vessels. Other, larger, trade freighters docked around the other side of the spaceport.

Gina's information on the spaceport she had docked at revealed it to have about fifteen thousand people, about a third of that staff and the rest visitors. Seeing as the planet below, however, currently had a transport embargo on it something of a bottleneck had occurred and there were rather more people than usual hanging around.

Gina appeared from the door in the side of her ship and her appearance drew a gasp from the mechanics, techs and attendants clustered around the landing bay, the stacked blonde taking an opportunity to pose at the top of the ramp while she got her bearings. Work stopped for a few seconds as everyone gawked at the gorgeous babe in the transcendently slutty attire, all the way from the bottom of the platform heels of the transparent stripper shoes that she wore, all the way up her slender, sinuously muscled legs, over her black PVC panties, up her incredible waist. Many awestruck glances got no further than her huge tits that were jutting out of her chest.

After a suitable time had passed and work around her had slowly and reluctantly resumed, Gina sauntered down the ramp. Automated robots buzzed around to run diagnostics on her ship. Sashaying across the docking bay, she approached the exit, which would take her into a turbolift and into the spaceport proper.

In front of the table was a customs desk, at which sat a man in the official uniform of the spaceport. There were a few people in the line, and Gina joined the back of it, as the customs official questioned people and them admitted them into the port.

Slowly, the queue went down, and people joined behind Gina. The person directly behind her was a young man who had beads of sweat standing out on his brow, and whose eyes were darting around everywhere except at Gina. Smiling to herself, Gina looked at him over her shoulder, and gave him a long, obvious stare, up and down his body.

'You look nervous,' she said, smiling.

'Well... I erm... yes,' said the man. 'No,' he corrected himself. 'Not nervous.'

'You don't seem sure,' said Gina.

At this point, the man made the mistake of looking at Gina and surveying her body, up and down. Immediately, he whimpered, and gulped, then resumed looking in the middle distance.

'Have you got anything to hide?' said Gina, beginning to enjoy her slight teasing of the young man.

'What do you mean?' said the man.

'Well, this is a customs line,' said Gina. 'You know, are you smuggling? Do you have anything concealed about your person? You know, like contraband?'

'N-no, not at all...' said the man, gulping once again, his eyes hovering around the region of Gina's huge tits.

'Oh, that's odd...' said Gina, 'because you certainly look suspicious.'

'How?' said the man.

'Sweating profusely...' Gina turned around. Immediately, her massive, firm knockers smacked into the man's chest. 'Distracted.... and what's this...?'

Gina slid her hand down the man's torso and pushed the flat of it firmly against his abdomen before moving it down his coverall, all the way over his groin, and down his trouser leg.

'Concealed weapon?' said Gina with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. 'You smuggling guns? But oh nooooo, honey, this thing seems to biiiig for that. This would have to be a shotgun...'

Suddenly, Gina stopped her fondling, abruptly, and looked the young guy square in the eye.

'Don't tell me that's your dick.'

Gina was stopped by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She turned around and saw that it was the man behind the customs desk. Shrugging her shoulders slightly at the guy behind her, she went forwards to the desk, giving the customs official more than an eyeful of her unbelievable body and outrageous attire.

'Name?' said the official.

'Gina Fox.'

'Business in Darvon Spaceport?'

'Cock.'

The official blinked. 'Excuse me?'

'I've been in space for a long time and I need some cock. This was the closest place. You do have cock, don't you?'

'Ah, yes Miss, we do.'

'Good, because I'm going to need a hell of a lot of inches. That's why I came to this very desk.'

'Urm. Yes. What?'

'That's what it says on the desk. CUMSTORMS. I thought you might be able to give me one.'

'Ah, Miss, that says 'CUSTOMS''.

'Oh, silly me,' said Gina. 'It does look like 'cumstorms' though.'

'Now do you have any identification?' said the man, moving swiftly on.

'Yes,' said Gina, 'here'.

Pointing at the newly-styled tattoo that had been hyperstencilled onto her public mound, Gina stood a step closer so that the official could get a better view at the word ?CUMSLUT? emblazoned there. After he saw this, Gina could sense that by this point the man was in severe danger of premature ejaculation.

'Anything to declare?' the man finally managed.

'I just have,' Gina responded, 'I'm a cumslut!'

'No, no...' said the man, 'I mean, have you brought anything with you. Anything you have to declare.'

'No,' Gina said, I'm travelling pretty light as you can see. But if you want you can look up my asshole!'