Monday, July 5, 2010

Scene 1 (Random Andromeda Fic)

Disclaimer—Gene Rodenberry’s Andromeda is the property of Tribune Entertainment et al; this is
a recreational endeavor, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is

This material is copyrighted and may not be used and/or recreated in whole or
in part without my expressed written consent and/or permission.

Please feel free 2 give feedback! My Email is or ; I need all the help I can get! Enjoy! 

Scene 1

Dylan at heavily on the over-sized plush loveseat. Trance hadn’t been lying. He still felt the flush as he was unable exorcise images from his mind regarding the proof he’d overheard in Chancellor Morlin’s office as to Trance’s whereabouts—why Rhade risked so much to come to him and profess her innocence in Ambassador Aries’ assassination—why Trance had kept silent when questioned as to an alibi.
“It’s me this time Geheris.” Dylan spoke softly to the Nietzschean who now stood before him.
“How is…” Rhade caught himself, almost calling the name he’d given her.
“Trance.” Dylan finished the question. “She’s fine.”
Rhade nodded. “And innocent.”
“Indeed.” Dylan conceded. Be swift about hearing, slow about speaking, slow about wrath… Rhade’s words rang in his mind. He was happy he obeyed.
The silence was tense and awkward. Their eyes locked. It was as if 300 years, betrayal, a couple of time shifts and a little thing called death never happened. Their closeness was still as intimate as it was painful.
“Why am I being lied to Geheris?”
The raven-haired Nietzschean raised his eyebrows.
“A request was made I couldn’t deny.”
Dylan leaned back, his gaze softened but unwavering. Rhade would say no more.
“And Chancellor Morlin?”
Rhade’s thoughtful gaze narrowed. The unspoken inquiry in the action itself.
“He told me that while Trance’s alibi couldn’t be substantiated, he had uncovered irrefutable proof confirming that Trance couldn’t’ve been present at the time of the Ambassador’s assassination.” Dylan watched carefully intrigued by Rhade’s silence, the change being in his eyes rather than his expression.
“I’m not sure I’m clear as to what you want from me.” Rhade words were calm but careful.
“Are you Trance’s alibi?” Dylan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. It was he who now needed caution, as Rhade’s evasiveness had to do with the certainty with which he professed her innocence.
Rhade’s flush was involuntarily. “Yes.”
Dylan blinked. The truthfulness of the simple and straightforward answer shocked him.
“No one has lied to you. Trance was with me at the time of Aries’ assassination. We weren’t in the system.”
Dylan shook his head. “The request you couldn’t deny.”
“Yes.” Rhade looked at Dylan. Far more had been uncovered than he anticipated outside of the eyewitness he’d forced to come forward placing them two systems away in the forbidden zone. Rhade would also keep to himself that the Gilderian council liked him for masterminding the conspiracy uncovered as to Aries’ death.
“I need to know the nature of that request.” Dylan said.
Rhade recoiled, his expression placid. “Now I’m being lied to.”
Dylan stared.
“In what way is the Gilderian council either still a threat to her or you don’t trust the Chancellor’s proof that you’ve summoned me?”
Dylan’s silence was involuntary. Rhade’s intellect was laser sharp as always.
“I don’t know—“
“And he’s not to be trusted.” Rhade understood. Somehow the Chancellor had found out the nature of their union.
That situation would have to be rectified while maintaining Trance’s rightful innocence—and keep Dylan in the dark. Rhade knew Dylan saw the wheels turning and knew he’d need Dylan to help him avoid risking Trance any more than necessary.
“No pressure.” Dylan said as both chuckled.
“What is it about the situation with Morlin that makes you leery?”
Dylan gave it up. He knew Rhade wanted facts and whatever intuition Dylan had.
“What he didn’t say.”
Enough said. Rhade now knew that Dylan had all but figured out what he himself and Morlin already knew as to the nature of he and Trance’s being together.
Dylan wanted to know his intentions.
“I’ll find out what I can.”
The silence between them was charged. Dylan knew this was a mental game of keep away, and a potentially lethal political scandal if Morlin’s intention was less than honorable—which neither man doubted.
“How do you intend to proceed?” Dylan’s words stopped Rhade as he went to leave.
Rhade looked at him.
“Surely you have a plan—“
“What…keeping me ignorant while maintaining Trance’s innocence, eliciting whatever additional information I acquire while establishing a covert means of contacting Trance without my knowing about it, locating and eradicating the source that supplied whatever additional information that Morlin wasn’t supposed to know…”
“That was unnecessary.”
“That is your intention Geheris…” Dylan paused, the emotion in his voice surprising.
Rhade sat next to Dylan and looked him, amber on blue.
“My intention Captain, is to prevent a devious man from using an innocent woman to pull the deadliest political coup of its kind by not just discrediting the Commonwealth but its chief representative.”
Dylan’s blood ran cold. Trance was right again; the picture was larger, the intent much different.
“As in I’m that na├»ve.”
Rhade’s gaze softened. “As in let’s hope the Chancellor realizes all too late that you’re smarter than you look.”

Trance wanted to run away screaming but she couldn’t. She knew Morlin was up to something. A little Nietzschean nookie in the forbidden zone was hardly a political coup—but throw in an ambassador’s assassination…
Trance felt hands on her shoulders. Dylan’s hands.
“Expecting someone else?” He felt the tension in her shoulders.
“No one else.” She turned to face him. Something had happened. It was in his eyes.
Dylan took a deep breath.
“I’m innocent Dylan.” Trance said. “I wasn’t anywhere near Ryosan 4 when Aries was killed…”
“But you and Rhade were together.” Dylan looked at Trace, the air suddenly charged. It wasn’t the omission of fact, but rather the need he heard in her voice that flushed him so deeply.
“Yes.” Trance started to step away but Dylan stayed her with a gentle but firm grip.
Dylan could damn near feel her need. Without a word, Trance had confirmed her reason for keeping silent—the nature of the request made of Rhade he couldn’t deny—
“Please believe me…one has nothing to do with the other.”
Dylan drew a breath. “Trance…”
“I would never willingly or knowingly do anything to bring reproach upon you or the Commonwealth.”
Dylan’s heart stopped.
“The two occurrences are mutually exclusive.”
“I never doubted.”

Tyr looked at Dylan speculatively at first, then leveled his gaze as he explained the nature of his quandary.
“A Nietzschean male?”
Dylan looked at Tyr; it was the third time he’d referenced the point. “Explain the significance I’m missing.”
Tyr took a deep breath. Beka was right. Some things Dylan just ought not know about; but this was a necessary evil. Tyr made a mental note to ponder why he was always the one who had to reveal such evils to Dylan.
“The name itself is self explanatory; but…” Tyr didn’t know how to explain. Delicacy was required. Dylan’s mind was much too pure for such things.
“Say it.”
“Nietzschean males are somewhat of a…sought after commodity.”
Dylan blinked. “Go on.” He got that achy feeling.
“Depending upon one’s tastes…” Tyr took another deep breath as he rose and started to pace.
Dylan leveled a thoughtful gaze at Tyr, his head cocked to one side. The feeling in his stomach intensified. Tyr was on a protective thing again.
“Go back to the name being ‘self explanatory’.”
Tyr stopped pacing. “All things forbidden—hence the name.”
Dylan drew a breath, the significance dawning. “The whole system?” This was more a statement than a question.
Tyr nodded. “All eight planets.”
“How does that connect with a needy woman?” Dylan flushed hard letting his head drop as he said this.
“Depends on the nature of her needs.”
Dylan looked up at Tyr. Like Rhade, he’d say no more. Tyr had answered Dylan’s question as much as he dared. It was like a conspiracy of protective silence—in the worst way.

Opus 3 was the fifth of the eight planets in the forbidden zone. It had some of the most beautiful gardens in the system. This particular garden contained the exotic flowers—the rarities. Trance felt at home and peaceful. The setting suns with the simultaneous moon rising made it all the more majestic against the sky’s jewel tone hues.
“There isn’t much time Geheris.” Trance turned to the raven-haired Nietzschean. “What in hell is Morlin up to?”
Rhade shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s not just damaging to the Commonwealth, but deadlier to our Captain—who’s growing a brain.”
Trance smiled in spite of herself. “The lesser of two evils.”
“Indeed.” Rhade stepped beside her taking her hand. “Dylan paid me a visit.”
Trance stared at him. “What?”
“That’s not our immediate problem.” Rhade rubbed Trance’s hand reassuringly. “Morlin’s intent with our information is.”
“He’ll use us to uproot the Commonwealth.”
“Or sow powerful seeds of doubt.”
Trance agreed. “The Commonwealth is one thing—Dylan is another.”
“And there lies our problem.”
Trance sighed. It was the same problem. “How was he?”
“He wanted answers. Some I had, some I need to find out.” Rhade looked at Trance. “This wasn’t a good thing…”
Trance put a finger to his lips. “It was the only thing. I know which way Morlin’s going and so do you—“
“Which make’s Dylan more vulnerable than ever.” Rhade kissed and nuzzled her delicate hand. “He’s not going to make it easy. In fact, he’ll make it damn near impossible.” He drew Trance to him.
But it could be done. Both knew that. Two things were their advantage: Interplanetary law—written and unwritten; Dylan was smarter than he looked. Trance though, had an additional advantage. The situation that brought her to this place to begin with.
“What did you tell Dylan?”
Their eyes locked. Rhade felt his saturation point. “The truth. A request was made I couldn’t deny.”

The trap was set. Beka and Rommie knew what to do. All they needed was Tyr. It was the only way to smoke out Morlin’s intentions—bait the trump—his wife Merril. This portion of the plan wasn’t discussed with Dylan; he’d be protected either way. Especially if what she and Rhade were right and Morlin’s intent was to use Dylan to discredit the Commonwealth.
“I just don’t get it.” Beka shook her head. “A little Nietzschean nookie never hurt anyone.”
“At least not in this sector.” Rommie deadpanned.
Trance stared trying not to laugh. She’d forgotten who she was dealing with there was no sense in denying anything.
“But it’s so good for you…” Beka poked out her lip.
“I’m giving you away.” Rommie’s hologram disappeared.

Merril Morlin stared. They had been sparring—the large locsman and the lean blonde woman. She’d wriggle from his grasp every time. She’d also come close to staying the mighty and muscular man. Their sparring had been as interesting as it was intense. It came with all the appropriated teasing and camaraderie befitting the soldiers and/or shipmates they obviously were.
Then it happened. She’d only stepped away for a moment. When she returned she witnessed a sparring of a different kind. The passionate kind. Her hunger was evident—but the locsman was a Nietzschean. The woman was obviously some kind of humanoid if not authentically human. Bone blades or no, Merril knew passion—and this was Nietzschean style passion. Something in the way he obliged her; allowed her to taste and feel and indulge greedily and deeply with impunity. The majesty in his surrender.
“Can I help you?”
The blonde woman’s snapped Merril back to reality. She was slightly annoyed, as woman would be. Merril was sure she matched the blonde’s flush at this point.
“You can’t do that here…” She looked around quickly. It was just the three of them. “Come with me…”
Tyr and Beka looked at each other, then the woman. She had all but confirmed Tyr’s earlier suspicions that they were being followed or watched at the very least.

In the two days after, the trap sprung hard and tight, setting off shock waves beyond the anticipated. Trance and Rhade couldn’t’ve been more right—in the scariest of ways. A hearing had been convened. Trance, Beka, Tyr and Dylan summoned. A warrant issued for Rhade. The charges were made.
“Illicit activities?” Dylan was indignant. “I’m being charged with illicit activity?”
No one spoke. The actual charge was the facilitation of illicit activity. Reading the warrant itself made it worse. Fraternizing with Nietzscheans in particular was strictly prohibited along with all other forms of public displays of affection or any activity that could be remotely construed as sexual behavior…
“…between consenting adults.” Dylan all but exploded. “What the—” he caught himself. The significance dawned on him. This was Morlin’s plan! Use the insane social laws to uproot the positive aspects of the Commonwealth, leaving him to implement God only knew whatever personal agenda he had.
“The deviant bastard…” Dylan said softly. He turned to face Trance. “You knew about this didn’t you?”
“Only suspicions.” Trance sat on the couch. “I’m still not sure the two are related. But one does fuel the other if discrediting the Commonwealth is the goal.”
“It’s more than that.” Tyr said. “If you take Trance’s case alone, it’s like…”
“It’s personal.” Rommie and Beka spoke at once.
The next few hours were tense. Trance paced the obs deck and tried to find a way to ease the tension of Rhade’s presence. That didn’t even cover keeping herself in check. What happened in the forbidden zone should stay there—the eyewitness’ statement should’ve been enough. Beka and Tyr’s escapade confirmed her worst fears. There had to be a way and she’d find it!
“There will be complications.” Dylan’s voice was soft.
Trance sighed. “Agreed. Morlin will try to involve the surrounding planets.”
“May I?” Dylan hesitantly raised a hand. He’d gotten a good look at Trance’s back for the first time since the Arielian inauguration. The lashes weren’t completely healed.
Trance blinked. “Oh…of course.” She turned her back moving her hair to one side.
The seduction of the movement alarmed Dylan. “Looks painful.” He was careful not to touch but let his fingers strum the area. They had a purplish gold hue to them.
“I’ve made arrangements with the pain.”
Dylan chuckled. He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger. Trance had transformed yet again—a sort of death really. Peaches and cream replaced the former gold, giving her features a soft and sumptuous appearance. Her deep wavy titalian hair stopped short of her waist. There was a sensuality about her—a raw femininity that was as magnetic as it was bewitching. Especially when she flushed—which brought Dylan back to reality.
“Sorry.” He looked sheepish.
Trance smiled sweetly. “Was there anything else Captain?”

Trance woke up to Rommie’s hologram. There was a not at the pit of her stomach.
“My Commander’s been captured…and he is alive.”
“Had Dylan been notified?”
“As soon as you reach the surface.”

Morlin looked at Trance wryly. His disdain for her request was obvious, but the point about Rhade’s safety was valid. The last thing he needed was to be foiled by legitimate law.
“I can notify Captain Hunt if you wish…” Trance honed wide brown eyes on Morlin. “In light of your recent accusations he’ll find your request to keep Rhade intriguing.”
Morlin blinked. Trance had him and he knew it. Flight wasn’t an issue because Hunt wouldn’t allow it. But this woman—she was something completely different. He hadn’t anticipated her having a separate agenda where the Nietzschean was concerned.
“Granted.” He smiled weakly under Trance’s intense gaze.
“Shall I accompany your men or shall I wait here for the prisoner?” Trance’s tone was serene.
Morlin nearly exploded. The bait taken. “It’ll take more than t & a for that request…”
“I hope my presence is sufficient.” Dylan made no attempt to hide his irritable disposition.
The blood sank to Morlin’s feet, his skin now pale. He nodded to the two guards who made haste. The guards returned a short time later.
It wasn’t as bad as Trance thought, but it wasn’t as good as it should’ve been. Rhade had bruises and was obviously subjected to some form of intense physical abuse. But he could function. Trance did a quick but thorough glance over Rhade, which didn’t go unnoticed by Dylan—or the wheels turning inside her.
“At your leisure Captain.” Trance turned to face Dylan. She had Rhade in a firm but gentle grasp.
“We’ll be in touch.” Dylan nodded. He got a bad feeling. He made and ushering gesture toward the exit. Something in the way she touched him…

Two broken ribs, temporal abrasions, two cracked bone blades and lots of bruises—in all the wrong places. Rhade watched Trance. He could feel the heat of her rage. The two small machines in the corner began beeping with different tones. There was no sign that parasites or poisons had been introduced to his system. He had all his parts and their appropriate fluids. His DNA had been verified. Rhade was impressed.
“Is my lady satisfied as to my survival?”
Trance gave a more appreciative once over to the battered but well muscled nude man before her. “It’ll do…” Trance took a deep breath to calm herself. “But you need rest—you’ll need your strength.”
Rommie’s hologram appeared announcing her avatar’s impending arrival. The avatar entered smirking at the smile creeping across Trance’s lips. She was covering his nakedness.
“Yes it’s me.” She handed Trance a uniform.
“It still fits Andromeda.” Rhade said. “Trust me.” The twin flush didn’t go unnoticed.
“Very good Commander.” Rommie exited the medlab trying not to look pleased.
Meanwhile, Trance was fighting the good fight. It took all of her to keep from jumping Rhade. Her struggle didn’t go unnoticed. He paused before putting on his shirt.
“Would my nakedness suit you better?” Rhade spoke softly. He was serious and he knew Trance knew it.

Andromeda Fic

Disclaimer—Gene Rodenberry’s Andromeda is the property of Tribune Entertainment et al; this is a recreational endeavor, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Attention/Warning: This material is copyrighted and may not be used and/or recreated in whole or in part without my expressed written consent and/or permission.

Please feel free 2 give feedback! My Email is or ; I need all the help I can get! Enjoy! 

I got this Idea while re-viewing “Forced Prospective”. For all of you who’d like 2 C Beka get hers, this you’ll love this! It does, however contain strong content (nothing hard-core though). Well, here goes…


Dylan had had it. Beka’s constant second-guessing and objections were bad enough. He still hadn’t gotten over that little stunt she pulled with Tyr during the Restor attack. And that was in private! But this…this was it. The conference with the Gilderian council was supposed to be a summit of ideas. They’d contacted Dylan through former Mobius ruler Venitri, now happily rebuilding in the Halcion system. They needed a treaty with the Than in that sector because of the tense trade issue. Instead, while the conference did go well and the goal was accomplished (thanks to substituting Rommie for the second round of talks), Dylan found himself looking less than a leader due to Beka’s constant objections and opinions. He should’ve gone without Beka; he should’ve followed his first mind and taken Rommie. He’d know for next time; but it was this time and his not being able to completely save face (especially with their view of women) that irked him. He had been embarrassed, not to mention feeling even more humiliated by their patronizing him when referring to the things they did agree on.

Dylan sat back in his chair. Maybe the Gilderian councilman had a point. Maybe he’d been doing too much talking with Beka, and not enough action. The Gilderians’ body language told him that he’d lost more than face. He’d lost respect. They considered him too lenient with what they considered to be a lawless, undisciplined female who showed her contempt and lack of respect through bitchy insolence and sarcasm. In short, as the councilman had said, there are ways for objections and opinions to be stated. Women had a tendency to forget themselves and their place. A little power, like knowledge, for a woman and her superior could be deadly. Dylan suspected this was the very reason there were no female members. Dylan chuckled. He found the Gilderian logic and reasoning regarding women to be sexist and offensive; still, as regards to Beka, some of the councilman’s words did ring true. Even Tyr had mentioned this to him before. Dylan’s smile widened. He thought of Rhade knowing he’d’ve nipped the ‘insolent bitch’---as he would’ve called her---in the bud at the first occurrence of insubordination. He would’ve returned injury for injury; making her feel what he felt---and to add insult to that injury, he would give her the decency of privacy.

“I really think I should speak with Dylan.” Beka said to Rommie, who only looked at her as she paced.
“When Dylan wants to talk to you, he’ll let you know.” Rommie dead panned. She knew why Beka was so antsy. The tension between them and Dylan’s anger practically blew her away when they returned from Gilder.
“Thanks for the support.” Beka stopped pacing and faced Rommie, who made no attempt to hide her lack of sympathy.
News of Beka’s antics with Dylan and the Gilderian council were all over the women’s pages. They debate wasn’t so much on making Dylan look good or bad, but the effects of Beka’s presence; some hailed Beka for her militancy, spitfire spirit, and saucy no-nonsense delivery. There were others who recognized Dylan’s genuine respect for women that ripped Beka for her arrogance and cited her as one more male-inspired poster child for keeping women out of office and oppressed. Personally, Rommie still failed to see why it was so difficult for Beka to just keep her mouth shut; or at the very least, express her opinions or objections in private.
The two women occupied the obs deck in silence. Beka still fumed. What made Rommie such a suitable replacement? Why did she have to be replaced at all?
“Why do you always take his side?” Beka pivoted and faced Rommie. “Dylan’s personal go-bot!”
“You’re inability to display the mental discipline required to display tact and self-control doesn’t make it my fault you have no common sense.”
Beka stared.
Rommie made her point. “Even if you had an objection with a process, idea or procedure, there is a time, a place and a way to express such things.”
This is why Dylan won’t repeat the mistake of considering you to accompany him again should the need arise. Beka heard the unspoken words loud and clear; she didn’t realize her mouth was open until she went to leave, and that’s when Dylan entered.
“Can we…?” Dylan pointed outside the doors.
Beka nodded as they exited. “You’re not gonna throw me out of an airlock are you?” They paused midway.
Dylan chuckled. “I have considered it…but no; I’ve cooled sufficiently to at least attempt a conversation. “
Beka looked quizzically. She wasn’t so sure she liked the sound of that. “You said…”
“I said I’d cooled off; I didn’t say I was over it.” He paused again letting Beka enter first. Dylan shook his head at Beka’s cautious glances about the office. It was like she expected death at any moment.
“I don’t like the way I was discarded in favor of your android.” Beka got to the point.
“Well, let’s talk about the incident that made that made the substitution necessary.” Dylan motioned to one of the chairs.
Beka crossed her arms and remained standing. “This is about ego!” She took two steps and glared at him.
“This is about the old saying about what you do at home being what you do in public.”
“What?” The meaning set in as Beka was yet saying this. “You expect me to be silent, passive and submissive?”
“I expect you to have respect, use tact and have some common sense.” Dylan’s tone was even. “Did you read the brief I gave…?”
Oh so now I’m stupid. Beka raised an eyebrow.
Dylan read the gesture perfectly. “I wish you’d’ve had that reaction during the conference.”
“This is about your ego.” Beka shook her head.
“This is about your lack of respect.” Dylan corrected her. “You’ve shown none since you’ve been here. The more I try and be fair and reasonable, the more you slap me with disrespect and undermine me. And I’m sick of it.”
Beka blinked. “What if maybe you actually did something to earn my respect?”
There was a long awkward pause.
“So this is where I go to the brig?” Beka looked at Dylan. She remembered him saying the next time she countered him in public, he’d throw her in the brig to rot. Right.
“No, this is where I play patty cake.” Dylan was up and moving.
By the time Beka gasped, and attempted to flee, she found herself across Dylan’s lap. And realizing what he had in mind!
“You wouldn’t dare!” Beka squirmed. Dylan’s grip was like liquid.
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” He secured her so as to have maximum access without being hindered by her squirming.
“Dylan---!” She was cut short by the whack on her tender round bottom.
“You were saying?” Dylan’s tone remained even. He administered a blitz of whacks amid Beka’s threats, grunts and wails.
“I’m not sorry!” Beka whimpered amidst another stinging slap. She could swear her butt was numb. His hand had to hurt!
“Glad to hear it.” Dylan swatted the back of her thighs. “I’m actually enjoying this.”
There were more whimpers, gasps, grunts, and…to Dylan’s relief, sobs. This let him know he was making headway. He was beginning to wonder.
“I hate you---ouch!” Beka shouted. “I hate you bunches!”
Dylan almost laughed. “Bunches? You hate me bunches.” He flipped her easily onto her back, bringing her legs upward to a ninety-degree angle. Still no let up. Beka realized that her butt wasn’t numb at all. It was on fire! It seemed that during the initial struggle, she’d popped a few buttons on her pants. Feeling the breeze (and Dylan’s hand on almost bare flesh) made her painfully aware of this.
“You brute!” Beka whined. She wouldn’t last much longer. She felt the sting of tears and Dylan’s smoothing her scantily clad behind.
“At least you’ll think twice the next time.” Dylan started another blitz of “strokes”; this time with a hairbrush. By the time Dylan got to yet the third position, Beka was on her stomach, torso on the floor facing forward, and her blazed bottom resembled and upside-down bowl on Dylan’s lap; he was wearing out a leather strap----and Beka’s lungs. She still wasn’t sorry and how dare he. She was gonna get him.
“I can’t wait.” Dylan gave the last smack. In this position he could admire his work. And Beka’s glowing meaty globes. Perfect symmetry and nothing outside the lines or “zone”. He admired the panties---cobalt lacy silk---more than a thong, but far less than a panty. Very nice indeed. She was wearing down. He could hear it when she howled at a cool rub with wet hands. Stimulating indeed.
Beka felt herself quiver and jiggle. She was seeing threes of everything, and she was drooling for lack of let up and forgetting to swallow. Last chance. Beka went for it, pushing off his lap, but Dylan was ready for her.
“Oh no you don’t…” He’d already hooked a finger on her panties and pulled them to her juicy spot so he could start another assault; Dylan gave a swat so her legs faltered, then stood up, lifting her to a bent over position with one arm tucked under her waist. He snatched the nearby paddle for the home stretch. Here we go.
“Oh! Oh! Okay-okay-okay-okayeeee….” Beka was ballin’ full-blown. “I’m sorry…I-I-oooooo…” She pleaded, now bare-bottomed.
“I don’t know Beka…” Dylan blitzed her moist inner thighs to keep her in position.
Beka was really really sorry; she respected him… “Dylan please…Mahahhaaaa!” She balled like a baby as she bounced, quivered, jiggled and damn near slipped from Dylan’s grasp with each smack. “I-I-I be goooodddd.” She would never sit again.
Dylan still wasn’t buying it. Beka would do it again, she always did. They were back the way they started, him sitting and her over his knee. And back to tenderizing her cheeks.
“I think that’ll do it for now.” Dylan gave it a rest. He stood, easing Beka with him.
“I wi-I will.” Beka sniffled, daring not to touch her seared bottom. She just knew she could fry something on her butt. Beka stuck her tongue out at Dylan from a tear-stained face then hurried away when he gave her a look.
“Like I said, at least next time you’ll think twice.”


Promised Writings @ Last...

Hiya (4 the 2 of u who actually look @ my blog),

Here @ long last are a couple of fanfics I wrote awhile ago. As for my original writings, Chapter 1 of "The Great Portrait Caper" should be up by next friday @ I just started it 2 days ago. U can check my blog @ 4 more info.

Once again, thank U (both of u or the one of u) for your patience and if u like this sampling of wut u read, please follow! So now w/out further adoo...

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Where the Writings Are (or aren't)

PLEASE be patient w/me.  I'm still having posting problems.  Myspace won't let me post but think reformatting for this site might work.  I'm not pulling your leg and for both of you actually following me, thank you....