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STRANGER THAN FICTION - Shelley Butler/Kathy Stanis

Stardate 8345. Personal log, Loran Oaks, Lt.(j.g.)-Engineering.

I don't know why I keep recording all this in my personal log. I'll probably just delete it again.

I should get a personal compad like Vita has. I wouldn't mind checking out my feelings with someone, but except for Vita, I haven't gotten that kind of close to anyone on the ship. Not the people I used to hang out with when I was in Engineering, and it's not like I've made any real friends on the bridge on Alpha shift yet, even though Lieutenant Uhura has been going out of her way for me, so at least it's not intimidating like it was at first. It's so charged up there, I can't help being drawn right into it. I've never felt so energetic and proficient. The chemistry going on there it pulls my best out of me. It's the most challenging and fulfilling position I could have hoped for. And I have to admit I've become an avid Kirk-and-Spock-watcher. How can I help

it?

THE STORYTELLER - Kate Sheridan

"Damn," McCoy groaned, tugging at his briefs through his uniform pants. The erection he'd sprung at the beginning of the story had only grown more demanding and now was actually painful in its tight restraints. He took another large swallow of his drink.

So hot, so tight, the muscles dancing, gripping . . . ," the words continued, the sensuous voice now slightly tremulous from its owner's own arousal. Eyes slitted, the doctor's blue gaze peered out from between the narrow space framed by narrowed lids. "Ah, Jim, I think you'd better wrap it up . . . if you don't want to get raped. It's been a long time since the last shore leave."

Kirk laughed. That deep, throaty, sensuous sound he only produced when highly aroused and not a little drunk. "You wouldn't do that Bones," he chided, tugging at his own crotch.

LOVE SONG - Karla Kelly

The black-gray fog roiled and flowed, completely surrounding Spock. He had enough consciousness left to wonder where he was, but no will to pursue the thought. Not entirely uncomfortable, he relaxed into the mist.

"Spock! Spock!

Music intruded into the silence and his consciousness drifted toward it. Somewhere his mind acknowledged the sounds as words,but they held no meaning for him. The sounds were melodious, pleasant.

"You can't die, Spock. Not now. Not before I tell you . . . . I have to tell you . . . ."

DANCE OF THE LE MATYA - Erica Bulsara

All was midnight black, silent as the void of space. The startling white of a spotlight snapped on, shining its beam onto the bare boards of the stage. It panned across, seeking the lone occupant who lay curled and still in a far corner. The starkly lit figure began to move. With infinite slowness an arm stretched out, long and lean, the pliant fingers flexing. The dancer rose fluidly to his knees and reached forward until both arms and forehead rested on the floor in a pose of supplication.

A haunting melody began to play, the soaring notes sending shivers down the backs of the rapt audience. With feline grace the figure twisted his head and began to sensually lick and nuzzle his arms from shoulders to fingers, grooming the fantasy pelt with a swathe of a pointed tongue. A moistened 'paw' worked its way around ears and 'whiskers' stroking to cleanliness.

Rolling and undulating his elastic form, the tall, slim, humanoid ran his expressive hands over every inch of his body, caressing himself as he would a lover.

WORDS - Penny Wise

He touched the long, dark, silky hair, ran his fingertips over the rounded ear, teased the lobes with his tongue. She was beautiful. His head dropped to kiss luscious, sensuous lips, ripe and passionate against his. The lips brushed his cheeks, his eyes, the brows.

"I love you, Jim", came the deep voice. A startled Kirk jerked his head away from the kiss, his eyes widening as he saw the familiar angular features, the elegant, pointed ears.

"SSSSpock!" he stammered, as he roused part way from his dream.

SECRET ADMIRER - Ciana Mitchell

Admiral James T. Kirk's eyes latched onto the wall chronometer wondering how much longer his bi-annual physical would last. This wasn't exactly how he had visualized spending part of his birthday. But regulations were regulations, no exceptions. Or as the doctor, presently administering the physical, had so delicately put it. "You'd better get your ass in this office by 1400, Jim or I'll have Security carry you in." Of course, Bones was just kidding about the security . . . or at least Kirk thought he was. Either way, the admiral just wanted to get it over with. His eyes flicked to a diabolical looking machine in a corner of the office.

"Don't get nervous," McCoy grinned. "It's just my new sterile field unit."

Poetry by:

Art

Covers

December 1995