Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Just Want to Get Something Off My Chest...

Dear Reader,

No, I didn't finish that story yet.

I'm working on it, though.

I just wanted to take the time to get something off my chest, as it's really been nagging at me for quite some time.

First off, I want to say that I love following blogs, and I love reading other people's stories on various internet sites.

I also love leaving comments on these sites, in order to show the creator my appreciation of the work that they do.

But, there's one thing that really annoys me.

I don't like it when my comments are not acknowledged.

I really don't understand why comments from admirers go unanswered.  I tell you how much I enjoy your work, and you don't reply.  It gives a message to the commenter that the creator doesn't give a damn about their 'fan base,' if you will.  It makes the creator look, frankly, arrogant.

It's a 'fuck you' to the reader!

I'm not going to take the time here to single out the bloggers and writers who ignore comments, because it seems to be most of them, unfortunately.

I would love to get more comments from my readers! I would love to connect with them! What blogger or writer wouldn't?

Apparently, many of them don't want that connection.  Perhaps that's why most comment sections I see  on many sites go blank.  Why waste your time, or gushing train of thought?

Am I right, or am I being a bit sensitive?  After all, it doesn't just happen to me. It happens to most commenters
 on these blogs and sites.

Now, don't get me wrong here.  I can understand if you have hundreds of comments, and you simply are unable to get to them all.  But, most of these site don't have so many comments that the blogger or writer can't take the time to acknowledge them, even if it's a matter of typing a simple 'thank you for your kind words' at the bottom of all the comments.

That's how I would do it.

I would do that if I got more comments on my blog.

Just saying.

Well, dear reader, I just want to thank you for letting me say my peace.  Please keep this site in your thoughts.  I will finish that story as soon as I can.

And please, leave a comment.  If it's a constructive comment, I will post it and answer it.

Take care,

ProvidenceMine.






Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Just checking in...

Hello, Dear Reader!

I just want to thank you for reading my story 'Tis Charity to Show, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it!

I also hope you enjoyed my little rant on social media! Writing that was certainly a lot of fun!

I just want to let you know that I am starting the preliminary notes on a new story staring Star Trek's resident blonde bombshell.  I'm very excited about this particular story, and I'm counting on it to turn out well.

However, I need to give you a heads up on something.

This story might take a little while to develop.

As you know, I'm not one to rush on a story.  So, it may be a few weeks before it shows up on this blog.

Couple that with
a few challenging things that are happening in my life right now, time will certainly be something I'll need on my side.

So, here's hoping that you'll keep me in mind until my next Rand adventure appears on this page!

Thank you,

ProvidenceMine.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Why I Finally Took That Dump and Relieved Myself of both Twitter and Facebook!


Why I Finally Took That Dump and Relieved Myself of both Twitter and Facebook!


Author:  ProvidenceMine



You’re a new fan fiction writer.  You’ve just finished building your website/blog on a place like Blogger.com, Wordpress, or Tripod.  You’ve uploaded some of your stories and topped them all off with a little introduction about yourself, and the type of stories that you do. 

Now, all that’s left is to build a readership.

Of course, the logical thing is to continue working on your site, posting as much as you can, and maybe try to get your website/blog listed in one of those fan fiction directories.  That could take awhile though, trying to build your audience that way.

Hey, what about social media?  You know, Facebook and Twitter?  People seem to swear by them, claiming that these tools were responsible for the success of their blog, website, business or career!  Social media is supposed to get the word out on your product in a much shorter time period, right?   Why, you could get hundreds of ‘likes’ on your Facebook fan page and hundreds of followers on Twitter, which would surely equal hundreds of readers to your site, right?  All those people who follow you could be potential readers, equaling hundreds of hits to your blog, right?

Eh, not really.

Social media wasn’t the magic bullet that everyone made it out to be.

It was more like shooting blanks.

That’s not to say that my audience never grew.  It did.  Just not through any social media tools.  That’s why I dumped both my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

I didn’t need them, and I have no intention of giving any other brand of social media a try.

Dear Reader, let me take you on my own journey through social media, so that you may see exactly why I think social media is something that you can ultimately do without.

In May of last year, I opened a Twitter account on the emphatic advice of a relative who swore by her blog success through this particular tool.  I was a little hesitant, but excited nevertheless. 

Now, according to the founders of Twitter, one must tweet at least three times a day, because that’s supposed to be the best way to get a lot of followers.  So, that’s what I did.  I would sit at my computer, pad and pen handy, and brainstorm flights of wit in 140 characters or less.  I would even find things on the internet to retweet  (clicking the Twitter button under an article, picture or video on the web) back to my account, if I thought it was something that might be of interest to present and future followers.  Well, it took a little while, but it did pay off, having built a Twitter following of around 750 (I can’t remember the exact number anymore).  I even developed relationships—if you can call them that—with some of my followers.  At times, it could be fun.  I’ll admit it.  The only problem was that, for all the times I spent trying to build a Twitter following, I could have been doing a lot more writing for my blog.  In the false belief that Twitter would help build an audience for my blog, it became a preoccupation that, at times, took me away from what really mattered, and that was my writing.  In short, Twitter was time consuming.

Twitter was also lacking in results.  Eventually, I was able to obtain around 750 followers, give or take.  Now, I suppose I should have been proud of this achievement, especially since there were Twitter accounts that had been established before mine, but with a lot less followers.  I also should have been excited, as over 700 followers could potentially equal around 700 new readers.

Let me tell you all about the results of my hard work (LOL), laboriously tweeting and retweeting on my account.  Out of the approximate 750 followers I had on Twitter, I had obtained—guess how many of them became readers to my blog.

Three.

Three is a pretty measly number when you’re trying to build your readership, isn’t it.

 What can I tell you?   I followed the Twitter rules, and they didn’t deliver.  Needless to say, I was growing more suspicious about this whole ‘Twitter phenomena.’  Indeed, I was becoming really skeptical of social media in general, as Facebook was proving to be an empty promise, too.

I already had a personal Facebook account, so it was fairly easy to start a fan page for my blog, putting aside some of the technical glitches I had to endure.  According to the administration on Facebook, you had to receive 30 ‘likes’ in order to get access to your statistics, like the amount of visitors to your page.  Well, I must have been on this social media tool for over a year before I received 25 ‘likes’!  Believe it.  The difficulty I had in getting just 25 ‘likes’ was absolutely mind-boggling to me!  So, you can imagine how I disgusted I was when someone decided to ‘unlike’ my page, bringing me back down to 24.  Oh, dear.  It would probably be another five months before I reached 25 again.

Seriously, you’ve got to be kidding me.
I felt like a prisoner drawing tally sticks on my cell wall.  That’s a pretty good idea, I think, of how it’s like ( no pun intended) to be on Facebook.  Never mind the difficulty of trying to get my ‘Facebook friends’ to support my page by simply clinking on the ‘like’ button.  Out of the 56 ‘friends’ from my personal account (which, I’m proud to say, I dropped also), only 19 of them ‘liked’ my fan page.  And what cracked me up was the fact that some of the ‘friends’ who didn’t ‘like’ my fan page actually had the audacity to send me stuff that they wanted me to ‘like,’ or participate in, or sign.

Why, the nerve of some ‘friends,’ huh?

Now, maybe if I was able to bring readers to my blog through my fan page, then maybe all the trouble would have been worth it in the long run, except that the amount of visitors who actually came to my blog through Facebook, out of the 25( or 24) people who ‘liked’ my page was…

Can you make a guess?

ZERO!

Did they ‘like’ me?  Did they really ‘like’ me?

With ‘likes’ like these, who needs the ol’ kick in the ribs?

However, there was something that I found quite curious during my time on Facebook.  Many of the fan pages of independent writers would have as much as 300 ‘likes,’ but yet, when I actually looked at the activity on their page—the ‘likes’ to uploads, comments, conversations—these fan pages were like digital deserts!  Some fan pages had a little activity, but most had none.

Zip.  Nada. 

These fan pages earned a place of honor in the null set.

Remember your high school math, folks?

So, I started to wonder whether or not the amount of ‘likes’ one received on their fan page actually made any difference at all in drawing an audience to one’s site/blog.

Ain’t ‘likes’ grand!  Apparently, not these ‘likes.’

As for grand, it’s more like a grand illusion.

Meanwhile, back at the blog, my readership was indeed building.  While I never actually went viral, I did receive as many as 145 visitors, usually with a new posting, of course.  Sometimes, though, I could get that much when I didn’t have a new posting, which was always a pleasant surprise when I would logged in to check my stats.  While I didn’t always get that many readers to my blog, my readership was growing quite nicely.

So, what was going on?  What was the catch?

The catch was that they weren’t coming from social media!  They came from Google, Yahoo, Bing, and various links.

But not Facebook or Twitter.

Social media didn’t even enter into the equation.

So, what was the bottom line?

I didn’t need my Facebook or Twitter accounts.

Period.

However, I had a little problem.  I was hesitant to drop my accounts.  I was still stuck on the idea that social media was supposed to help me get a readership.  I thought that, perhaps, while it wasn’t helping me right now, that it would pay off in the long run.

But, wait a minute!  Social media was supposed to bring me an audience in much faster time than any ‘long run’ method, like networking, guest blogging, posting in fan fiction archives, or putting one’s web address in a fan fiction online directory.

Oh, boy.

Now, I was torn.

To drop, or not to drop my social media accounts?  That was the question, and an irritating one at that!

So, I started to do some research to see if anyone in that Vast Wonderland of Internet had come to the same conclusion I had.

Most of the articles that showed up in my search were, unfortunately, singing the praises of social media, and how to try to work without it would leave you behind in the dust.

Give me a break.

Then, as I was playing with more entries, this curious phrase, ‘social media is bullshit,’ popped right up.

Social media is bullshit?

I decided to check it out, not really expecting much, as leads like ‘social media is useless’ would come up with articles that were titled “Is Social Media Useless?”
Of course, the article would always end up telling the reader that it was the best thing since electric nostril hair clippers.

However, things were different this time around.  This time, I got more than some article or commentary. 

I got a whole damn book!

Social Media is Bullshit, written by a young man named B.J. Mendelson. 

The author actually had a whole website devoted to his book.  I looked it over, and I was intrigued.  This young man seemed to be saying what I had suspected about this social media thing! 

That it was bullshit.

Hype.

Without clothing.

Excited, I went over to my favorite online haunt, Amazon.com, and read all the reviews to his work.

Man, did I feel vindicated, like a wrongly confined mental patient who was rescued and then detoxified off of all those hallucinogens. 

No, Alice.  You’re not crazy. 

Did I order that book, you ask?  Quoting a former contender from up north…

You betcha!

I didn’t stop there.  I went over to my second favorite online haunt, YouTube, to see if Mr. Mendelson had any videos on his work, and he did.  I watched three of his interviews, a review of his book, and two lectures that he gave at colleges.  While I will not get into detail about the things he revealed on these videos, what I will say here is that he brought a harsh, glaring light to the social media myth! 

Then, the book came in the mail.  I sat down and read it voraciously!  While the author focused mainly on business and not-for-profits, he did touch upon individuals in the arts who were trying to spread the word about themselves( of course, this didn’t include fan fiction writers, LOL).  Mr. Mendelson’s book, which went into even more details than his interviews and lectures, blew me away!  It served as the catalyst I needed to finally grow some balls and dump Facebook and Twitter!

I took that plunge and never looked back, nor have I joined any other kind of social media tool.  When I dropped those accounts, it was like a fat chain was sawed off my ankles!  It freed me to do more of what was most important to me—writing!

So, my humble advice to any fan fiction writer considering social media?  Well, if conversing with an audience you already have is what you want to do, then knock yourself out.  However, if you want to attract more readers, or gain a readership if your site doesn’t have one yet, then here are the things you should do:

1.     Keep on writing!
2.     Post as frequently as you can without compromising your work.  In other words—no rush jobs!
3.     Try to find a site where you can guest blog, maybe even review other fan fiction works.
4.     LOVE what you do!
5.     Don’t, DON’T waste your time with social media!
6.     And, if by chance you happen to be on social media, and you have the same sneaking suspicions that I had about it, then do yourself a favor and dump the damn thing!

I’m so very glad I did!
 










Friday, November 1, 2013

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter VIII Part 3




‘Tis Charity to Show
Chapter VIII
Part 3


It was the large, strong, warm enveloping of Rand’s hand that lifted her tenderly out of her prolonged lethargy.  She opened her lids slowly to the shock of fluorescent glare that pierced laser-like into her eyes. 

“Of course.  Sickbay,” she thought groggily.

Her body felt like one long sandbag, even turning her neck was a struggle as she tried to look into the face of the man who was holding her hand.


“Janice, honey.  How are you feeling?  Talk to me.” 

His voice was so gentle, like the strokes from his thumb gliding back and forth on the back of her hand.  Rand smiled when she saw Khobran’s face emerge from the harsh pool of light.  Even though she was still weak, that look of adoration on her young lover’s face, coupled with his hand wrapped around hers, fortified her.

“Khobran,” she whispered.

Her voice was thin, hoarse.   Khobran leaned in, reaching out with his free hand to stroke the lines of her jaw, her hairline.  She closed her eyes, rejoicing in how the tips of Khobran’s fingers made her skin tingle.  Tears started to brim behind her closed lids, and she took a long, deep breath of quiet exuberance.  Oh, how she had missed this!

“Oh, Janice! You have no idea, in this known universe, just how much you scared me!   You literally looked like death standing on that transporter platform!” 

Rand opened her eyes.  “I looked like death, huh.  Thanks for that,” she chuckled.  “God knows I felt like death.”

“Well, you look a lot better now.  It took a few days, but the medical staff was able to bring your color back.  You’re still a bit thin, but you’re filing out at least.  How do you feel?  Weak?”

“Like a lead paperweight.”

“Mm, you poor thing.  Don’t worry.  Dr. McCoy says you’re getting better.  You and the rest of the landing party.”  

“Even Riley?”

“Yeah.  They’re operating on his face now as we speak.  The damage was pretty miserable, but Dr. Truth is confident they’ll be able to rebuild it to its original appearance.  Spock really did a number on him.”

You ain’t kiddin’!  Thank God of Dr. Begay!  He prepped Riley up real well.  He’s a good doctor, and, unlike some other doctors I know, a real nice guy,” she quipped.

“Hey, Dr. McCoy had all of sickbay working overtime to get you all back up to speed, so lay off him,” Khobran chided gently with a light squeeze on her hand.

“I guess you can be a good doctor and an asshole, too,” Rand snorted.

They chuckled, Khobran’s being soft and deep, while Rand’s was a bit strained.  Afterwards, there was a silence that grew between them, though it wasn’t awkward.  The expression on Khobran’s face grew more serious.  

“It was really scary for me, Janice!  When the ship tried to make contact with the landing party, all we got was static!  The captain even sent a shuttlecraft down to Tijus after awhile when all attempts to reach you failed!  But, the strangest thing happened.  When the craft reached the planet’s atmosphere, there was some kind of force field blocking its way!  Some glassy, amber colored force field.  It was as if that planet, or something on that planet, was determined to keep you down there!  It was really creepy!  I can’t tell you how frightened I was!  I couldn’t think straight the whole time you were down there!”

Rand didn’t even bother to hold back the tears, letting them flow down her cheeks.

“I spoke to Mr. Spock in the other ward.  He told me what went on down there, or the basics anyway.  The basics were enough for me, quite frankly.  The very thought of you down on that forsaken planet, going through all that while that thing was feeding off you makes me ill!”

“It was pretty awful, Khobran.  I honestly didn’t think we were going to make it!  That thing held us prisoner, tormented us by hurling our unresolved issues in our faces…”  Rand choked up, unable to finish her sentence.

“I know.  Spock told me about that, but not in any real detail.”  Khobran hesitated for a bit.  Finally, he took a breath, preparing himself.  “You know I have to ask you this, Janice.  Was our argument among those ‘unresolved issues’ that came to the fore down there?  Be honest with me.”

Rand closed her eyes and nodded.

“So, it’s fairly safe to say that I was partly responsible for your ordeal,” he said, his voice slightly cracked.

His fault?!  Rand opened her eyes, his statement having a sobering affect on her.

“Your fault, Khobran?  I don’t understand…”

“Oh, come on Janice!  You and I know that if it wasn’t for the argument  I started…”

“Khobran!  Listen to me!  Listen very carefully!  You can’t blame yourself for what was happening to me on Tijus!  Don’t be ridiculous!  You weren’t even down there!”

“But…”

“Khobran, if it wasn’t our argument it would have been some other unresolved issue!  Do you know that I was a relentless nose picker as a child?  Could you imagine how my nose would have looked liked at the end of the mission?”

Khobran looked at Rand incredulously, as if not believing that his girlfriend could actually make a joke out of the ordeal.  Rand gave him her best deadpan expression and wriggled her nostrils, like a rabbit.  Khobran shook his head and laughed, in spite of himself.  Rand laughed too, a little more robust this time, but still weak.

“Seriously, though,” she said after the laughter subsided, and her tone grew more somber.  “It’s just as much my fault. Frankly, I should have trusted enough in our relationship to tell my family about you.  I was just too damn insecure from all those past relationships.  You have to believe me, it had nothing, and I repeat, nothing to do with any kind of shame…”

“Janice, I know,” said Khobran softly, tracing the thumb of his free hand along her lips.  “I had time to think while you were down there.  I know you, I know you too well to honestly think that you didn’t want your parents to know you were involved with an Orion.  I know about those jerks you’ve been involved with.  I can understand this need not to ‘jinx’ anything.”  Khobran cradled Rand’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.  “I really hate what they did to your trust.  If anyone’s to blame for our quarrel, it’s those losers!  I promise that you can trust me, Janice.  If that means I have to keep reassuring you of that fact, then I will!  I love you so much, Janice!  I’ll never let you down.”

Khobran stroked Rand’s lower lip with his thumb, his touch light, feathery, enticing her to pout it just a little.

“I love you too, Khobran,” she said, her voice quivering slightly as the tears began to peak again, for the third time.

Khobran leaned in and brushed his lips to hers, kissing her delicately before pulling away. 

“You’re still very weak, darling.  So, that means I’ll have to restrain myself for awhile.  I can’t wait until you’re in top riding condition again,” he said slyly with a cock of his brow. 

“Mm, good riding condition, huh?  Be careful what you wish you, big boy!  You’ll need an ice pack by the time I’m finished with you!”

“That can cut both ways, sweetheart!”

He leaned in for another soft kiss, but this time, he added a little tongue for good measure.

“Khobran, honey.  When I’m back in ‘top riding condition’, we can contact your parents so that I can apologize to them and explain my behavior.  Then, we can contact my parents so that I can introduce you to them, OK?”  she proposed between kisses.

 Khobran pulled away.  At first, he didn’t say anything, he just gazed at her, his large violet eyes swelling with tears that threatened to fall.  His smile was sweet, slightly crooked, boyish.

“Oh, Janice!  Thank you for that,” he said empathically.

He stroked under her chin, along the length of her neck with his fingers until he reached the hollow of her collarbone. 

“Get some sleep, Janice.  I’ll see you later, all right?  I want you to close your eyes now.”

And she did, as Khobran continued to stroke along the lines of her face until he reached her forehead, stroking it gently from one temple to the other, lulling her into the most peaceful, gratifying sleep that she’s had in days.



                                                  THE END


  BASIC OUTLINE:  Started on 2/21/12  
                                    Finished on 3/21/12


DETAILED OUTLINE:  Started on 6/12
                                            Finished on 8/7/12


DRAFT ZERO:  Started on 8/11/12
                             Finished on 11/1/13            


FINAL DRAFT:  Dates as chapters appeared on ProvidenceMine’s Star Trek Fanfic Site.







  






























Monday, October 21, 2013

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter VIII Part 2


‘Tis Charity to Show
Chapter VIII
Part 2


The landing party was ready to beam up.  Nothing was left to chance.  Their equipment was placed just a few feet away from where the crew positioned themselves for their final exit.  Lieutenant Riley, still unconscious, was already in his place, his stretcher propped upright by a fold-out metal stand under the foot of the gurney.  Standing behind his patient was Dr. Begay, and standing next to him was Scotty.   

The two men turned their attention away from the infirmed navigator when Rand entered the meeting room, looks of concern showing on their faces.  She was like an accident victim learning to walk all over again, her steps tepid, hesitant.  Nurse Rose had both hands placed on Rand’s shoulders to keep her steady as she whispered gentle encouragement to her.

“How is she, Nurse?” asked Spock, who was standing in his beam-up point in front of the others.

“She’ll be OK, Mr. Spock.  I’ve given her a concentrated vitamin shot, so she won’t collapse during beam-up.  She should be able to stand up on her own now.”
Rand didn’t speak.  She didn’t want to, she was so demoralized.  She had allowed that thing out there to get inside her, literally.  It had known how to lure her, to get inside her head, penetrated her flesh.  Allowed was actually too kind a word to use, and she knew it.   Truth of it was, she had blatantly offered herself to the beast, and didn’t care about what the circumstances entailed for her or the rest of the landing party.  If the crew was unable to get off this planet, she’d be the one responsible, and she didn’t think she was being too hard on herself. 

Rand took small, halting steps to her place up front, next to Mr. Spock, with Rose’s hand moving to the small of her back, guiding her.   When Rand got her bearings and was able to situate herself, she turned and nodded to Rose, letting her know she was fine, and so Rose moved to her own spot on Rand’s right hand side. 

“Very well.  Our plan is to beam up to the ship first, and then follow up with the equipment.  If the entity is to make our escape difficult, then we leave the equipment behind.  Is that understood?”

Everyone, except for Rand and Riley, followed with a resounding “Yes, sir!”

Rand could hear the eagerness and anxiety in their voices; high-pitched, rushed.  She could also hear how spent they all were, the thinly-veiled raspy tremor in their exclamations.  She turned to the others behind her, and they looked to her like they should have been laid on slabs, toe-tagged, but somehow managed to stay alive.  Rand knew she looked just as bad, and felt even worse.  She wondered if they were truly ever going to make it back to the Enterprise.

Spock pulled his communicator out of his belt, flipped open its hatch, took a long, deep breath, and then spoke into the receiver.  His brows were knitted, and Rand could tell that underneath his Vulcan exterior, he was anxious himself.   During this time, the landing party was so quiet, so still, that one could hear the sands in the desert wind brush along the compound.

“Spock to Enterprise.  Spock to Enterprise.  Can anyone read this message?”

“Mr. Spock!  Is that you, sir?!”

Rand ‘s heart leapt from her chest.  They were able to make contact!  And the voice that came from the ship was Khobran’s.  She reveled in its deepness, its beauty. 

“It is indeed, Lieutenant.  There is no time for explanations at the present moment.  What is important right now is that there have been no fatalities, and the whole landing party is accounted for and prepared for immediate beam-up.”

“I’ve already pinpointed your coordinates, Mr. Spock!  Please stand by!”

“Mr. Spock!  The light!  It’s returning!  Look!” 

Rand’s heart pounded as she looked in the direction to where Nurse Rose was pointing, to a corner of the meeting room where a pin of amber spark started to grow. 

“Lieutenant…”

“…We are beaming you up now, Mr. Spock!”

For Rand, it was like hearing a melody when the low, scrambling hum of the dematerialization began.

But, then it stopped.

“Oh, God,” she blurted out, holding her face in her hands. 

There was a chorus of outcries from the rest of the crew. 

“We must stay calm!  Stay in your places, please!  Do not panic!”

The whole floor of the meeting room was now submerged in crystal amber beams, bolting and fanning out mechanically, like searchlights.  They fluttered and strobed, and then froze.  Then, suddenly, the light started to rise, like floodwater.  There were more vociferations from everyone, even Spock had a look of wild-eyed panic.   Rand pressed her hands against her mouth and cried when her solid form was deconstructed, scrambling like a swarm of bees, and the meeting room fell away into a white-speckled blackness.






















Tuesday, October 8, 2013

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter VIII Part 1 Warning: Sexual Content



‘Tis Charity to Show
Chapter VIII
Part 1


To say it was a race against time was an understatement, not to mention a tad cliché, though one thing was certain; Rand did not relish the thought of being torn apart and ingested by that thing outside.

Rand stormed into the small, cramped office where she’d worked on Dr. Ellis’ logs, and rummaged through everything that was on the desk, until she spotted the leather pouch and grabbed it.  She looked at Dr. Ellis’ recorder and knew that she wouldn’t need it, so she left it there. 

Rand stood by the door and hastily gave the room one last final sweep with her eyes, to make sure that she didn’t need anything else, and then left, not even bothering to close the door behind her, as if doing so would perilously cost her precious time.

“One down, three more tasks to go until you reach that holy grail,” she thought.

While the Enterprise was hardly a goblet with mystical powers, it did offer refuge with its surrounding structure, weapons, and various levels of speed that would take her away to safety from this hellish place. 

Rand picked up her pace.  She simply would not feel better until she was in her room packing.  She saw the strip of hallway leading to her quarters up ahead, that strip of hallway that made her sigh with relief, the ‘light’ in the dark corridor.

“Almost there,” she thought.

Then, suddenly, in her anxiousness to reach her room, her legs collided together, causing her to lose her balance. 

Rand fell, hard, on her stomach and chest.  She grunted in pain, gritted her teeth, and cursed.

“What the fuck just happened here,” she whined out loud.

Undeterred, she hoisted herself up and realized that the logs were no longer in her hand.  She looked around and spotted the envelope just a few feet behind her, walked over and picked it up, and turned.

That’s when she saw him, standing right in the spot where she was headed, that part of the corridor that lead to her room.

Khobran.

Tall, strong, beautiful.

And quite naked.

His deep jade skin was cast with a soft, amber glow that surrounded him, like a halo.  Rand stood there, trembling.  She knew damn well that this man standing in front of her was not Khobran, not her lover.  This entity was pulling all the stops trying to keep the landing party on this planet.  What tricks had this thing performed to keep Dr. Ellis’ party here?  She looked at this imposter, her sexual and romantic longings stirring up inside her, like rising heat.

“No! No!”

Rand tensed her body, fighting against this urge to go to him, but the stronger the urge became, the more it stripped her of her willpower, her resolve, and she wondered if she and the rest of the crew were really going to make it off of Tijus.

Khobran’s lips formed into a strange smile that was both alluring and vacant, the same smile that he gave her back in the shower room.  He turned slowly in the direction of Rand’s quarters and started to walk there.  Rand’s throat tightened, for she knew what would happen next.

“No!  No!  I won’t go!  You can’t have me! I won’t let you touch me!”

Her hand gripped tightly around the leather envelope while her other hand pressed against her temple, but she couldn’t stop the hunger for Khobran in his naked, masculine beauty.   She felt her body being pulled, her legs moving with a life of their own, following her puppet master.  She tried to plant her feet to the floor, but she kept on robotically. 

God, she wanted him.  Badly. After a while, it felt like free will, and by the time they both entered her quarters, she was his.  She closed the door hastily behind her, almost closing the door on her fingers. 

Khobran moved to the edge of her bed and sat there, sinking into the mattress with his muscular weight.  Rand went over to him, situating herself between his open strong thighs. She tossed the envelope behind her, and then pulled off Begay's robe with abandon while Khobran watched silently. 

As Rand pulled off her nightshirt, Khobran traced his fingers along her exposed skin.   When the nightclothes were off and down her ankles, she kicked them away.

Rand felt different, strange, as she stood nude in front of Khobran. Something had changed.  
She looked down at her body, and saw that it was no longer the wan, wasting mess that it was before.  It was now restored gloriously to its lush, buoyant, toned physicality.    

She threw her head back joyously and pressed herself against Khobran’s large, exploring hands, reveling under his firm, roaming fingers.  Rand sighed and giggled.  She wanted this.  She needed this; his touch, his warmth, his intrusion, and she was going to avail herself to all of it, even if all of it was just an illusion. 

Her ripe body came alive under his hands as he scooped them under her full breasts and pressed them together.  He swept his thumbs up and along her globes until he reached the pink hardness of her nipples and traced them ever so lightly, the tickly sensation making Rand’s areolas rise and pucker.

Rand parted her lips and drew in her breath as she ran her own hands along the sides of Khobran’s arms, making a detour to his biceps and squeezing them.

As Rand’s ecstasy rose under the strokes of her lover, so did the light.  Its soft, amber crystal hues stretched out from behind Khobran and coated everything in the room.  She watched him, his full lips parted, his violet eyes darkly lit in the rays as he watched her, his beautiful, rugged features, the emerald color of his skin glazed and warmed in the soft sparkling effulgence. 

“God, even in all this fakery, he’s breathtaking,” she thought.

Khobran ran his hands up from Rand’s nipples, her breasts, along her shoulders, the nape of her neck, to the back of her head.  His fingers lacings through her thick, blond hair, he drew her head to his, and kissed her.  He sucked her lips, pried them open with his tongue and explored her mouth.  Rand threw her arms around Khobran’s neck and pressed forward, urging him by plunging her own tongue into his warm mouth and running it along his teeth, the roof of his mouth.  They were like this for a while until he pressed hard against her lips one last time. He pulled back a bit and softly bit and tugged on Rand’s lower lip, then kissed and nibbled along her chin, under her jaw, and down her neck.  Khobran continued to kiss down her body, reaching her breasts and nuzzling his nose, lips and chin along and around her full mounds, already aroused from his earlier thumb play.


With his tongue, he traced one of her nipples and then flicked it back and forth, making it even more erect before nipping it and pulling it gently with his teeth.  Rand pushed her breasts closer to Khobran, urging him on, tempting him, calling his name and sighing.  She reached with her fingers and gathered Khobran’s glossy, thick blue-black hair, bunching the strands into her fists.  As Khobran brought his mouth to her other nipple, he simultaneously swept his hands down her back and stomach until one gripped the bottom center of her taunt buttocks, and the other foraged through her pubic hair and found her clit, taking his middle finger and moving it up and down its length, slowly and firmly, while the fingers from his other hand  slipped under her resilient cheeks and spread open the swollen lips of her vagina from behind.

Rand jolted against Khobran and pulled his hair harder, whispering incoherently and saying yes yes yes right there!  She started to turn her hips while Khobran mercilessly worked her, back and forth, making her wetter and hotter with each stroke.  His other thick finger dipped in and out of her damp cunt, while she rocked her hips and ass ever so slowly.  
   
Khobran detached his mouth from Rand’s breast and gazed at her, licking the bottom of his lip.  He removed his hands from her vagina and grabbed her buttocks.  He kneaded them vigorously, cupping and rolling the firm glutes with worship.  Then, scooping his hands under her cheeks, he lifted her up and tossed her over his head.  Rand landed on the bed behind him with a yelp.

Rand reclined on the mattress, her hands gripping the sheets as Khobran prowled towards her.  He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her again, until she was suspended upside-down.  Carefully, he lowered himself onto the mattress while still holding her.  He opened his legs, propping his feet on the bed so that his knees were raised.  Then, he lowered Rand with care until she lay on top of him, the both of them having full access to each other’s genitalia.

Rand hungrily reached for Khobran’s testicles and ran her hand along its bigness, its buoyancy and strength.  With one hand, she cupped her fingers over his balls while she held his huge cock with the other, rubbing it against her lips while she ran her tongue over and up his engorged shaft, the veins protruding along its length.  Khobran moaned and grunted his approval while he pushed her legs wider until her vaginal lips parted and revealed her ripe pink clit.  Grabbing her ass, he pushed her down until her slit was pressing his mouth.  He licked along her raw, sensitive bud, first up and down, and then in circular motions while he inserted his middle and index finger deep inside, past her lips and into her cunt as his other hand clutched her buttock.  Rand let out a shuddering sigh as Khobran’s fingers slid in and out of her, pressing against her tightening wall.  She responded by wrapping her lips around his foreskin and pulling it in one continuous suction, while she clasped his firm balls greedily.  She wanted him to cum hard in her mouth, on her breasts and stomach as he screamed her name.  Khobran moaned louder, almost bellowing, and she smiled in smug satisfaction as she removed her mouth and started jerking her hand frantically along his member. 

“Spray all over me, you bastard,” she said heatedly.

Rand slid her finger between the crack of his ass while she continued to jerk him off, when suddenly, she found herself whirling and turning in the air until she landed on her back, her arms flung above her head.  Khobran was over her now, positioned on his knees, pushing her thighs up so that her own knees were over her shoulders.  She could feel herself tremble as he guided his huge, erect cock inside her in one swift push.

“KHOBRAN! OOOHHH SHIT YES!  FUCK ME!”

He entered her tight, wet snatch easily, and she responded by getting wetter, hotter, her walls closing and suctioning around him as he buried himself in her depths.  Rand’s legs were slung over his broad shoulders, slick and wet with his perspiration, which she could feel cling behind her knees.  She grabbed his biceps and squeezed them, urging him on as he probed   her relentlessly, his wideness stretching and rubbing the firm elastic walls, sensitive, raw, throbbing around him.  


Rand shook her head with abandon, her own body now drenched in sweat, strands of her hair stuck to the sides of her face and neck.  She shut her eyes tight and screamed her lover’s name, not giving a shit who else heard as he pounded into her.  She reveled in his alien invasion, his pushing, pulling, the feel of his testicles literally smothering her swollen lips when he grinded against her.

Rand felt herself whirling again, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself on top of Khobran, his magnificent, glistening body underneath her in the throes of passion while his hips rose, driving himself into her.  They were thrusting at one another like wild animals, her hands tightening onto Khobran’s chiseled pectorals while his hands gripped into the curves of her hips.  He reached further to her buttocks and pulled them apart so Rand’s anus was exposed and open to the light caress of the air in the room, and she responded by gyrating her hips frantically over his taunt, wet member. 

They bucked, writhed against each other, his cock pulling and pushing against her snug passage.  She closed in on him, her suctioning walls quickening, pulling him in deeper.  She gasped as the sensation between her legs mounted and vibrated, his manhood curving upward and straining as he pressed his pelvis against her.  They came long, hard in waves of cresting, engulfing moisture, he in jettison spurts that hit Rand in the far back wall of her cunt, adding to the intensity of her orgasm.  Khobran took his middle finger, drenched from his earlier exploration, and inserted it into her asshole, pushing against her passage, causing a delicious friction that, coupled with her orgasm, sent her through the roof.  She came in shuttering hits.  They cried out together until their orgasms ebbed away, and their bodies went limp and collapsed together, he on the mattress and she on top of him. 

The sweat of their bodies, the heaving of their spent breaths, mingled as they rested together, until Khobran gently pushed Rand off of him, picked her up, and positioned her on the head of the bed, so that she was on her hands and knees, her legs and arms spread low and wide, her tart little ass pointing up jauntily.  Rand could feel her clit straining out from under her hairs, droplets of sweat sliding down between her lips, hanging tauntingly off her erect bud.  Khobran’s hands caressed her buttocks and hips, sweeping upward until his hands met at the twin peaks, and then, in one clasping movement, pulled them open, stretching her like before.  Rand drew in her breath sharply in anticipation as he twirled his tongue around the rim of her anus in a light, fluttery motion, making her quiver.  He teased her like this for a time, but then plunged his tongue deep inside her ass.

“OH, GODYOUARESOFUCKINGFILTHY!!”

She pushed forcefully against his tongue, as if he couldn’t go in deep enough for her.  With his other hand he reached underneath her and found her wet bud and manipulated it with his middle finger.  Rand moaned and sobbed as her body continued to press back on Khobran’s mouth, her hands gripping the sheets on either side of her.  Her vaginal walls contracting from deep within, the sensation building in intensity and rising to her lips and clit.
  
“AAAH, KHOBRAN!!  OH,GOD YEEEESSSS…”

THRUMP…THRUMP…THRUMP!

The knocking was followed by the turning of the doorknob, startling Rand beyond reason.

“Yeoman! Yeoman! Open the door! I can not open it!”

“Wh-wha-what?!”

It is Mr. Spock, Yeoman!  We are all ready to beam up!  We were concerned when you were not accounted for…”

“Go away!  Just go away!”

Rand was not going to let Spock, or anyone else, get in the way of this hot bliss.  She was pleasure drunk, light in the head and burning between her legs, the tips of her breasts, inside her anus, her pores tingling at every corner of her skin.  Oh, God, make this last forever!  I can stay like this forever!

“Yeoman, we are not leaving without you, and time is not something we have in abundance!”

“Go away then!  Leave me!” 

“Exactly what is it that you are doing, Ms. Rand?”

“I’M GETTING RIMMED, MR. SPOCK!!”

She rocked her hips furiously while making loud, wordless noises, as if doing so would make the reality go away.

BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!
The door crashed wide open, its hinges splintering and flying apart.  Rand screamed, jumping headlong under the covers and tucking them around her, like a cocoon.

“NOOOOOOOO!  LEEEAAAVVVEEEE  MMMEEEE ALOOOOOONNNNEEEEEE!  FUCK YOU!”

“Nurse Rose!  We are in need of your assistance!  Please!”

Rand trembled under the blankets as she heard footsteps coming towards her. 

“I got this, Mr. Spock,” Rose said.

Rand felt the mattress sink beside her as Spock’s footsteps retreated out the room.

“Come on, Janice.  We have to get out of here.  Come on,” said the nurse gently, reaching under the tucked blankets and pulling it out slowly from under Rand, who was now shaking so uncontrollably that her grip on the covers had weakened. 

Rand was now laid bare, her pale, undernourished body huddled like a premature fetus. The light was gone, and all of its hypnotic illusions gone with it.  Her healthy, pink voluptuousness was gone.  Khobran was gone.  She was cold, and that cold seeped down past her skin, organs, and into her marrow.  Rand felt, for the first time, like she was dying.  And she was right.

They all were.