Thursday, February 14, 2013

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter V Part 3: Warning for Sexual Content

‘Tis Charity to Show
Chapter V
Part 3

Rand’s anger was diffused considerably after a long, hot shower.  The water jets did much to erase the knots and kinks in her body that had threatened to undo her after that pointless impromptu night search.

“Thank God that foolishness is over,” she thought in glorious relief while she revealed in the moist warmth of her freshly-washed skin.

The heat in the building kept the chill of the night desert air at bay, allowing Rand to wear only a towel around her body, one wrapping her hair, and rubber thong sandals as she walked down the hall.

“Gotta love that Scotty,” she mused.

She wasn’t feeling much love for Mr.Spock, however.  His behavior since landing on this planet was becoming more intolerable the longer they stayed here.

“What the hell’s coming over Spock, anyway?  This superiority complex is enough to give anyone the Antebellum willies,” she thought, turning the corner to her room.

When she reached her door she turned the knob and let herself in, walked into her room, turned to close the door behind her and tossed her toiletries purse onto her bed.

Rand turned away from the door and looked up, letting out a small startled cry.

Khobran was leaning against the table by the right side of the window looking over Rand’s bed.  He was wearing the same jumpsuit everyone else was on this mission, now camouflaged a lifeless ashen brown like the color of her room.

“Khobran! Oh, My God! When did you get here? No one told me you were coming!”

Rand could hardly contain her elation, seeing her young lover standing in her bedroom.  Was he sent down to be a part of this mission?  She felt a bright smile burst forth on her face and   her eyes stretch wide with surprise.

Khobran didn’t seem to return her joy.  He simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I just got here.  The captain sent me down because Scotty needed the help, so I was told.” His voice was nonchalant and light in its tone.

“So, you’re part of this mission?”

He smiled and nodded.  “It looks that way.”

Khobran leaned further onto the table, giving Rand a fuller view of his strong muscular physique filling out and molding his mission jumpsuit.  His presence in her room made Rand giddily hopeful; after all, him being in her room, near the foot of her bed, no less, must mean that everything was square with them again!

Khobran’s eyes traveled over the length of Rand’s scantly-shrouded body.  There was the faintest hint of a smile that grew slowly until it curved jauntily, at the upper corner of his full lips.

Oh, shit yes!

Rand went to Khobran and threw her arms around his neck with abandon, latching herself onto him.

“God, I’m sorry! So sorry! I can’t seem to control my stupid, stupid insecurities, but that’s all they were! You gotta believe me! Racism had nothing to do with it! You know me! I can be such an asshole sometimes! Can you forgive me? Can we make us right again?”

Her words fell out of her mouth in a tumble while she pressed herself along the musculature of Khobran’s sturdy, large frame like a woman holding on for her life.  She wanted to be enfolded in his strong protective arms, but Khobran didn’t return her embrace, but kept them braced on the edge of the table.

“I wanted to make sure that were strong, that our relationship was good!”

When Rand apology didn’t get any acknowledgement she looked up, worried, at Khobran, searching into those eyes she loved so much, to try to find whether there was any forgiveness in them. 

There was no vulnerability in those eyes or that face, but a cockiness that rather caught her off guard, though it wasn’t exactly a turn-off.

Khobran leaned his head close enough so that the tip of his nose touched hers.  “If you really want to apologize to me, the best way you can do that is to blow me off,” he said with a deep richness that glided off his tongue.

Rand could feel her body become tingly, charged, and sensitive as the two of them held one another with their eyes.  Khobran’s nimble fingers wrapped themselves around the meeting corners of Rand’s towel and deftly tugged them apart, unraveling the towel open so that it fell to her feet, revealing her nakedness.

Khobran swept his hands down her shoulders, made a detour to her firm breasts and squeezed them firmly, causing a gasp to escape Rand’s throat, before they traveled down her ribcage and then finally to her tiny waist, enclosed them there. He pulled her very close to him and kissed her.  His lips pressed down on hers as her tongue made its way up his mouth, pushing and probing inside.

Rand’s body surged with heat as she reached with both arms to pull at the fabric of Khobran’s crewneck. She stretched, yanked and pulled at it, peeling the jumpsuit down frantically, kissing at every exposed inch of his emerald skin while the fabric was pulled lower and lower with trembling, slender hands. Her lips kissed, the tongue explored, her teeth pinched.

“Oh, Khobran! I missed you! I missed this!” Her voice was gravelly, heightened in her excitement, her blissful loss of control.  She could feel his taunt abdominal muscles curl and flatten underneath her frisky, wanting mouth.

“That’s right! Squat down just like that! Part those incredible thighs while you take me in your mouth!” Khobran’s voice was horse with his own excitement as he hastily unwrapped the towel from Rand’s long wet hair, freeing the strands to fall and stick down her back.

She continued to peel past the narrow waist, the smooth pelvis, the thick narrow hips, until it was unveiled to her between powerful meeting inner thighs, fully erect, engorged, upswept.  The wetness between her legs started to build and spread, petaling outward as she ran her hand along his buoyant testicles and cupped them in her palm, squeezing them firmly.  She ran her other hand along the length of his shaft until she reached the foreskin and unrolled its sides, tugging at it.  Khobran’s gasp was deep and throaty, his strong hands gathering and twisting her hair up in his fingers, like a rope.

Glorying in the strength of his pull, Rand licked hungrily along the shaft of his manhood, the salt of his Orion skin hitting the pliable wall of her palete while the scent of his musk entered her nostrils, the heady combination overtaking her in an intoxicating carnal brew.

She moaned as she continues to snake her tongue towards his tip, her hands manipulating his penis at the foreskin, the testicles.  When her mouth reached their destination, Rand opened her mouth wide and engulfed his largeness, or some of him.  Her mouth was wide but certainly not wide enough to take in all of him. What she was able to take in, she sucked greedily, her head thumping back and forth while her hand encircled itself around the shaft. 

Khobran’s hips thrusted, bucked; his hands pulling at Rand’s hair harder while her other hand cupped and pushed at his balls.

“Get up, Janice! I want to fuck you, now,” he growled.

She took one last lingering suck before she released him, and hoisted herself up from her squatting position.  Khobran picked Rand up by her waist and brought her to the table, sitting her down so that she faced him.  She grabbed the rim of the table and held on while Khobran stood in front of her, his jumpsuit down to his knees, his magnificent body displayed.

Looking straight into her eyes, he brought his hands between her thighs and parted them, pushing one leg up and gently against it.  Rand’s hands gripped at the table’s edge, her body flushed while she felt the walls of her vagina become sensitive. Her body was his for the taking.

Their eyes were locked, they breathed as one unit as Khobran pushed himself into her, filling her up completely, his hand pushing her raised thigh harder, causing a delicious friction while she contracted around him tightly.  He brought her leg over his shoulder and placed his hands in her hips. Her leg pushed into his upper back while she met his powerful thrusts.


Rand wobbled and fell, rolling off the side of the table and landing hard on her side against the floor, the force of the landing knocking a howl of pain out of her throat.  She scrambled to sit up and looked around, disoriented.

“Khobran,” she called out in a small, frightened voice.

He wasn’t there.

Where did he go?

She turned to see if she could spot Khobran’s jumpsuit anywhere on the floor, if he’d left it there under the table in a heap.

No. The jumpsuit wasn’t there, either.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lower lip in a childish attempt at fighting them back.

She was alone.


Khobran was never here.

There was a sudden chill in the air that swooped around Rand’s naked body, grazing her skin with a touch of ice that hung within the silence of these lonely walls.

Her lips trembling, Rand pushed herself off the floor and ran to her bed, scrambling under the covers and pulling them around her, too afraid to untie herself from the fetal knot that she’d position herself in.



Saturday, February 2, 2013

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter V Part 2

‘Tis Charity to Show
Chapter V
Part 2

“Utter nonsense!”  Those were the two words that went through Rand’s head as she peered through her goggles into the inky-blackness of the night.  The desert landscape was cast a washy florescent green by the special magnifying light of the eye gear, giving the planet a ghostly cast, almost like an alternate reality.  Pebbles and rocks popped out at her, looking like glowing warts of a mythical beast.

Or did they look like boogers, Rand thought with contempt.

She looked across the way where Spock was deeply involved in the search, gazing intently into his tricorder.

Why the hell were we doing this?

The night search was an all-out blow to sensibility, as far as Rand was concerned.  There was no pressing situation here that required a night search.  A search such as this was done in situations where an incident happened at night, and a search party was sent out immediately after, as time was of the essence.  This situation was almost a cold case, so even the best night equipment was no substitute for broad daylight, especially when evidence became a lot less reliable with the passage of time. 

But there was something else about this night search that really burned in Rand’s brain, stoked her.

“Mr. Spock.  Is there any reason why we’re searching in the same exact spots that were searched this morning?  Exactly what do you think the night goggles will pick up that the sun couldn’t?  I mean, help me out here.”

Spock put down his tricorder and walked over to where Rand was.  He removed his goggles slowly and stood in front of her, peering into her eyes in that disconcerting way of his.  Rand didn’t remove her goggles but peered right back at him, unflinchingly.  Her earlier fear of Spock was gone, something that came as a rather pleasant surprise to Rand.

Or maybe it was the goggles that made her feel safe.

“Might there be a problem, Yeoman?” he said, more as a statement than a question, his voice quietly condescending.

“I just told you the problem, Mr. Spock!  If we couldn’t find anything in these parts under daylight, how are we going to suddenly find anything when it’s dark?”

Not only was Rand no longer afraid, she was downright irritated!

“One never knows what one can find with measured diligence, utmost attention to detail, and the most important element of all: logic.  This is regardless of the particular time in which the search is being conducted.”

“Measured diligence and utmost attention to detail means nothing, sir, if our visions are obstructed by the night’s darkness.”  She made sure her tone was delivered in the same clipped fashion that Spock delivered his words.  “And there’s not much ‘intelligence’ in searching at night in a case like this.”

Spock’s gaze was steely, biting.  “You are not in command here, Yeoman.  I am the one who decides what is to be done pertaining to this search here.”

Rand opened her mouth to say something when Spock’s communicator went off.  He pulled it from its holster and flipped open the top.

“Spock here.”

“Riley here, sir.  We’ve search the area with a fine-tooth comb.  There’s nothing here.”

“You have not searched for that long a duration of time, Mr. Riley.”

“Look, Mr. Spock.  Me and Scotty searched long enough to know that nothing’s here!  There’s no leads.  Just like there were no leads this morning!”

Rand interjected.  “Mr. Spock, can’t we just call it an evening and go back inside?  I’m frankly tired, and I have a lot of work to do.  I still have to get through the Ellis logs.”

Spock’s body went stiff, rigid.  His lips drew into a tight indignant line before he spoke into his communicator again.

“We are continuing with this search until I give the word to end it.  Spock out.”

“But, sir…”

Spock snapped his communicating device closed, effectively cutting Mr. Riley off mid-sentence.  He was clearly a man who couldn’t be bothered.  But just then, to Rand’s smug delight, his communicator went off again. 

At first, Spock held the communicator and simply looked at it, not taking any initiative to open it while it beeped in his hand.

“Aren’t you going to answer that, Mr. Spock?”

Beep.  Beep.

Rand was loving this.

Spock opened his communicator, albeit with hesitation.  “Spock here.”

“Dr. Begay here, sir.”

Rand tried to curb the smile that was forming at the corners of her mouth.

Here it comes.

“Nothing’s here, sir.  No leads, no physical evidence.  Just the same results we got this morning.”

 Nothing’s here, just like this morning.

“The duration of time in your search has not been long enough to come up with any substantial find, Doctor.”

“With all due respect, it was.  I just had a communication with Riley and Scotty and I’ve spoken to Nurse Rose.  We’re all in agreement that this night search needs to wrap up, sir.  We’re all pretty tired.”

“The fatigue of the landing party is not of my concern, Dr. Begay.  However, if it proves to be an issue, you can always administer yourself and the others with stimulants.  I will allow a few minutes for you to meet with the others for this.”

He’s got to be fuckin’ kidding me!

Rand felt herself grow hot in her cheeks as her anger mounted.

“Sir,” began Dr. Begay, the shaky resolve edging in a voice trying heroically to stay level.  “I could perhaps understand if we were searching in parts not previously searched, but we’ve been through these areas with fine-tooth combs earlier in the day and we’ve found nothing.  Nothing, sir!  No amount of stimulants pumped into bodies that would do better with rest will be able to get the results you want from us!”
“I observe how you and Mr. Riley use the term ‘fine-tooth comb’ in expressing the amount of work that you believe you put into this search.  Fascinating.  If indeed the areas have been searched with a ‘fine-tooth comb’ then you would have, no doubt, discovered something.  May I suggest in the future not to use such a term if it does not reflect the end result.  Doing so is most illogical.”

Rand shook her head contemptuously at the Vulcan.  She was about to go against orders by picking up her equipment and walking back to camp at this point. 

“Sir, if I may be so bold,” said Begay in a low steady voice that suggested challenge.  “Have you asked Yeoman Rand about how she feels about the search?”

There was a silence from Spock that spoke volumes.  He turned slowly to Rand, the communicator still open in the palm of his hand. 

For an uneasy moment, Rand thought she saw a glint of the ancient warlike predecessor in Spock’s eyes, a door into Vulcan’s violent past.

Rand stood there crossing her arms, staring right back at him.  She was a little frightened now, but she thought she hid it well.  Besides, even Vulcans are not immune from a shot of the ol’ phaser if self-defense became necessary.  She pursed her lips defiantly and cocked her head.  The Vulcan was clearly outnumbered.

But he was still in command.

So what?

The anger in Spock’s eyes was gone almost as quickly as it came.  He raised his communicator to his lips again.  “Perhaps, Doctor, the difference between humans and Vulcans may very well be stamina, determination and logic.  We Vulcans, possessing all three of these traits, usually end up with far better results in whatever we endeavor.”

Now the communicator on Begay’s side fell silent, but Rand did not.  She felt her rage bubble to the surface like a steaming pot of water, pushing itself out and spilling over.

“Excuse me, Mr. Spock, can I ask you a question?  Have your ‘superior abilities’ been able to come up with any leads tonight, or earlier in the day for that matter?  As a pairing, coupled with your ‘superior abilities’ you and I should be rolling in physical evidence by now, right?  Oh, now wait a minute—wasn’t it Riley and Scotty, not one--but two lowly humans, who found those log entries, and not you?!”

When she was finished Rand stood there, shaking in her indignation, nervous but defiant. 

“There! I said it,” she thought.

The two stood there, facing each other.  Spock’s eyes bore into Rand while she returned the favor with equal fervor.  The winds of the desert whipped and flapped around and between them like careening vehicles, their deep scratchy bellows reverberating through the abandoned structures and dark wasteland. 

Finally, Spock broke eye contact, lowered his gaze to the ground, and took a long defeated breath; a white flag moment to put an end to the staring down.

“Dr. Begay, please contact the others to alert them that the search is to be wrapped up for the evening.  We will resume tomorrow.”

“Very good, sir.”

Spock quietly closed his communicator and replaced it back in its pouch.

 Rand took a relieved breath herself and gathered her equipment.  When she was finished collecting her things, she did what she had done after that first search. 

She slung her knapsack on her back and walked ahead of Mr. Spock without looking over her shoulder.