Beyond Dream Press, Publisher of Slash fiction
This was the website for Beyond Dream Press a site that published Slash fiction.
According to thefullwiki.com: Slash fiction is a genre of fan fiction that focuses on the depiction of romantic or sexual relationships between fictional characters, even if you are needing best male masturbator. While the term was originally restricted to stories in which male media characters were involved in an explicit adult relationship as a primary plot element, it is now often used to refer to any fan story containing a pairing between same-sex characters.
Content is from the site's 2008 archived pages.
Beyond Dreams Press
The home of award-winning Kirk/Spock zines
edited by Jenna Sinclair and D'Anne
K/S zines filled with excellent stories, breathtaking artwork, and unforgettable poetry, all presented by two obsessive-compulsive editors who are committed to excellence in all things K/S.
You must be eighteen years of age or older to view the material on this site. If you are offended by adult, same-sex material, you are at the wrong location. Please don't look any further. By clicking, you certify that you are of age and that you don't mind the idea of homosexual erotica.
Legacy Volume 1
First Published July 2007
Four interviewsDiane Marchant
Cover by Virginia Sky
Interior art by Shelley Butler, Liz, Acidqueen, Deeb, Ivy Hill
Managing Editor: Jenna Sinclair
Associate Managing Editor: Kathleen Resch
Associate Editor for Art—Liz
Associate Editor for CD Database—Linda W.
Associate Editor for Conventions—Robin Hood
Associate Editors for Fiction—Jenna Sinclair and D’Anne
Associate Editor for the Internet—Lyrastar
Associate Editor for Interviews—Kathleen Resch
Associate Editor for Letterzines—Dorothy Laoang
Associate Editor for Zines—Carolyn Spencer
Want to read some of the zine before you decide whether to buy it? Sort of like picking up a book in the bookstore and flipping through the pages, it's a good way to discover if this zine is the right one for you. Just click on the links below to be transported into the special K/S world created by that particular author….
SACRIFICES by Kathleen Resch
THUNDER AND LIGHTNINGby Dovya Blacque
STANDING DOWN by Addison Reed
GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS by Anne Elliot
ARTICLES (A SAMPLE)
ZINES: THE TIME OF THE BEGINNING: 1976-1985 by Carolyn Spencer
ART: DRIBBLING SCRIBBLING WOMEN by Liz
LETTERZINES: EARLY LETTERCOLS AND LETTERZINES by K.S. Langley
THE INTERNET: THE SOURCE OF THE MISSISSIPPI by Lyrastar
From Sacrifices by Kathleen Resch
Cool air drifted across Kirk’s skin. The contrast between the ferocious heat less than a meter away and the oasis where he now stood was like a knife-slice, shocking in its sudden delineation of boundary.
A breeze rustled through the waneti bush, separating some of the tiny white blossoms from their stems and strewing them on the ground. From where Kirk stood in the gazebo, which was nestled in the furthest curve of Amanda’s enclosed garden, he could see the thin branches ripple in the hot wind. He remained safe in the shadows, protected from the fierceness of the late morning Vulcan sun. The cool air soothing his skin wasn’t simply the result of the shade the arched ceiling provided. Rather, the ceiling contained a cooling unit, providing a welcome respite from the heat that had voraciously sucked moisture from his skin, his lips, his eyes.
The unrelenting heat had stolen his tears as well.
His past, destroyed. His future, sacrificed.
He had always lived in the present. It was habit to continue doing so, since all other options were gone.
Dry-eyed, he kept his gaze focused on the doorway to Amanda’s private office. A mosaic pathway, gleaming crystals embedded in the grey and sand-beige flagstones, snaked its way from that doorway to where he stood. The path wound its way artfully close to carefully-placed native plants, yet it remained a thing separate from the expanse of red bare earth surrounding it: as careful in its definition of what it was as what it was not. Artificial, built to dissipate heat, it contained its own cooling unit to allow the comfortable passage of humans, able to almost completely dispel the furnace-blast of Vulcan summer air. Here, in the cool and shade of the gazebo, he could have been standing in a garden on Earth.
Amanda, her trim form gleaming in the whiteness of her veil and robes, walked toward him, her small hands carrying a laden tray. She’d refused his earlier offer of help with the tray; she’d sent him ahead when the comm bell rang.
He had paused at the tutelage room on his way to the outer door, had listened as the computer quizzed Spock, had heard Spock’s dispassionate answers.
He had watched for long moments, but Spock had never acknowledged his presence, and, finally, he’d remembered his original goal and gone outside.
Amanda joined him in the shade. Another gust of wind scattered white waneti blossoms across the gazebo’s floor. They sifted and moved around Amanda’s feet as she walked toward the table. She glanced down, then over to the parent plant. “Lovely, aren’t they? I’m glad to be here at home while they’re in bloom. I wasn’t here the last time. They won’t blossom again for another decade.”
From Thunder and Lightning by Dovya Blacque
The storm front had moved in slowly, hadn’t been on any of the weather charts. In fact, at first glance, the clouds on the horizon had seemed a minor mar on the weather, certainly nothing that would cause the changes to come.
That there was weather at all on a starship didn’t seem to bother the ship’s surgeon; he was never one to argue with his own faculties. And his faculties, sharpened on the slate that was the best crew in the ’Fleet, were as sharp as they came and he’d be the first one to tell anyone who would listen about it. In detail.
So, when the storm approached, he was the only person on board to see it, to smell the ionized air and feel the tiny hairs on his arms rise up and take notice. He was the only one to see the light change as the sun was sporadically blotted out or feel the chill that grew more noticeable by the day. He was the only one to understand that this weather front, this a-brewin’ storm, could scuttle the ship if no one took proper action and took navigation into their own hands. His own hands, since no one else knew there was a storm at all. Or even that the weather had turned. It was so obvious to McCoy, he really couldn’t understand how no one else could sense it, smell it and taste it as the air shifted, mutated toward danger.
But then, McCoy told himself, he was the only one who really understood the thunder and the lightning; he understood them better than they did themselves. Even they—both scientists in their own right—didn’t fully understand just how connected one was to the other; thunder didn’t clap without lightning striking and, without the thunder to come, lightning had no purpose, no cause to flash. They were integral to one another, stronger together and unable to exist apart.
That didn’t make them any more willing to admit the facts of physics, no matter how logical those facts might be. Didn’t mean either stubborn cuss of them would turn to the other and ask what was wrong, would try to fix it. No, they’d just go about their business pretending nothing was amiss, that nothing was causing them to change their nature, thunder becoming a whimper and lightning a mere spark. It was a sorry sight and, when it came down to it, McCoy was kind of glad no one else could see the storm approaching, no one else sensed the signs.
But that left it in his hands and, as much as he loved them, as much as he cursed and growled at them, he sometimes grew weary of being the peacekeeper.
Oh hell, Bones, McCoy thought, just go beard that damned proud lion in his den already. This has gone on long enough.
With a heavy sigh, McCoy shook his head, standing and moving slowly from his office in sickbay. It was nearly an empty house tonight; two cases of food poisoning—when different species learned to stop trying other species’ native foods, McCoy suspected he’d be out of a job—one broken arm and one risky pregnancy. His staff had everything in hand, which he almost wished, for once, wasn’t the case. He could use something to delay his self-appointed task. But, no. Sickbay was quiet and his nurses were efficiently buzzing about. Chapel nodded to him and he smiled goodnight, not wanting to disturb anyone.
From Standing Down by Addison Reed
Unspoken words slammed against the side of his skull, threatening to split it open in their need to escape and be heard. It was too late for that. The press conference was over, the holovid lights shut down and the recorders packed away. He shook his head in denial of the shame and guilt that threatened to consume him. He’d behaved like a frazzled cadet facing his first review. There was an unaccustomed sense of weakness and ineptitude emanating from him, its stench clogging his throat and stinging his nostrils. He tried to shake off the feeling as he stepped from the light drizzle into the aircar parked in the slot marked for Captain James T. Kirk. He closed the hatch and pushed the throttle forward to maximum, entering the busy civilian airlanes without even considering what he was doing. A rapid, high-pitched alarm warned him he’d narrowly missed a metro shuttle.
“Shit!” He ran one hand absently through his hair as he reduced speed, looking around to get his bearings and realizing he wasn’t even aware he’d pulled into traffic. He tried to shake off the smothering sense of failure. The press conference had started as they all started, with inane questions about the retirement plans of the senior Enterprise crew. It was old news that they were due to stand down in three months, which was probably why the interrogation had taken such an unexpected turn. He’d never liked being queried about David—it always left him defensive and angry. What had made the reporter turn on him? His emotional state, or just his evasive answers? Was he shaking off the inquiry as unacceptable because the answers would open a door he didn’t want to go through?
The story was no doubt directed at a human-interest audience with nothing better to do than stand in judgment of another’s shortcomings.
“When did your son begin to show an interest in the sciences, Captain Kirk?”
The equally simple answer left him as stunned as if he’d been slapped in the face.
“I don’t know.”
Simple truth, but oh, how it hurt when the words left his lips. A father would have known the answer to that and a million other unimportant details of how an innocent child had grown into an accomplished scientist. He didn’t know when David Marcus—Marcus, not Kirk—had begun to show an aptitude for research. Didn’t know if he’d played sports in school or if he’d been a bookworm like his father. Had no idea if he’d ever had a broken bone or who his friends were.
He knew precisely when control tipped away from him and into the hands of the press, but he was helpless to alter it. He couldn’t remember all the allegations flung at him about the Klingons, he was too involved with the strange, dark serpent twisting deep inside him, but the man had the gall to tell Kirk he understood the kind of anger he felt.
No. You don’t.
It wasn’t just this last indignity, he finally admitted. Images from the day tumbled through his head: Starfleet’s newfound indifference to him, the reporters, rumblings about the Klingons that were silenced when he came near. Suddenly there was so much he didn’t know. Spock. He reached down deep for the strength to fight off the unaccustomed anxiety. He didn’t know where Spock was. Didn’t know what he was doing, if he was in danger or when he would come home.
He swung into a lane designated for slower traffic as he approached the townhouse he’d shared with the Vulcan since just after the V’ger crisis. The interviewer’s words battered at him again. What right did they have asking why Spock wasn’t with him? Where did they get off prying about whether the two of them had plans for the upcoming retired officers’ banquet? His personal life was his own business, for God’s sake.
And Starfleet seemed to have lost its collective senses as well. What were they thinking, forming committee after committee full of children who knew nothing of what they might face when they went on their first deep space mission? If they ever made it to their first real mission. HeBron was nothing but a glorified wedding planner—the closest thing to an alien encounter she’d had was with the Argelian chef at the last cadet awards banquet—and now she was in charge of the contact preparation team. It was inevitable, he supposed, when people with actual experience were standing down from active duty right and left under the new master plan for the fleet. Being brushed off like an offending gnat when he’d offered to meet with HeBron and her team hadn’t helped either. Why was he pissed off about it—he chastised himself not for the first time—he was stepping down. He wasn’t interested in what happened at Starfleet anymore, was he?
From Going Through the Motions by Anne Elliot
Although he sometimes complained that Starfleet was being invaded by management consultants, Kirk was not entirely unhappy that he had been ordered to attend another command seminar. As this session was focussed on the effective operation of established command teams, it would give him a whole nine days off the ship with Spock and, as an added bonus—if one were needed—the communications blackout for the duration of the course might even mean they would get away from the never-ending discussions about their wedding.
Well, he always thought of it as a wedding. Despite the fact that he had once translated Koon-ut-kal-if-fee as “the place of marriage or challenge,” Spock adamantly insisted that Vulcans did not marry, they bonded, and the ceremony was a formal recognition and completion of an existing bond.
Kirk had listened to this without comment, refraining from pointing out that if it looked like a duck, walked like a duck and quacked like a duck, it most definitely was a—wedding. After all, there was to be a ceremony in front of friends and family, there were vows, there was some sort of party afterwards, and there was a honeymoon. The fact that in many cases the ceremony took place when one of the parties was in the early stages of pon farr and the honeymoon was a biological necessity rather than a pleasant holiday was, as far as Kirk was concerned, neither here nor there.
Kirk had realised very rapidly that getting married to a Vulcan was not as simple as it might sound—but then nothing about Vulcans was ever as simple as it sounded. It had soon become very clear that Kirk wasn’t just taking on Spock, but also an enormous clan committed to several millennia of tradition and arcane ritual, all of which had to be followed exactly. Kirk wasn’t at all surprised to hear that most of the rituals had come down from the time of the beginning—they seemed to be taking aeons to organise.
Not that the Vulcans were the only ones with arcane ritual, of course. Amanda seemed to be slipping in quite a few western-tradition Terran ones as well. Take wedding rings, for instance. They were definitely not a Vulcan tradition and Kirk had absolutely no recollection of having agreed to wear one, but it seemed that he was going to. He thought he had finally settled on a plain gold band but he couldn’t be entirely sure. He had rather lost the plot, not to mention his patience, halfway through the fourth catalogue. Oh, well, no doubt it would be a nice surprise on the day.
The amount of organisation involved in the binding together of two beings was, frankly, astonishing and it had quite taken over their lives. No sooner did they have a few moments alone together than Spock would say in a tone Kirk had come to recognise and dread, “Jim, I need to talk to you about something.”
From Zines: The Time of the Beginning: 1976-1985 by Carolyn Spencer
Back in the days of the mist-shrouded past, back when the local Xerox was a hand-cranked mimeo machine, back before internet communication was even a gleam in a dreamer’s eye, a woman pressed a handful of typed pages into another woman’s hand, leaned close, and whispered, “Check out the scene on page 34.” In fact, I have no doubt that lady caveperson Oga once fantasized about those two dashing and divinely handsome dudes Grog and Phlog doing it down and dirty in a dark hidden corner of the cave. Why think of just one gorgeous man when you can think of two? And “slash” was born.
Slash denotes a written or drawn sexual relationship primarily, but not exclusively, between two men. It is written primarily, but not exclusively, by and for women, the majority of whom are heterosexual. The men in these stories are recognizable media heroes with a plethora of admirable traits, usually larger than life, and certainly capable of the intimacy most women want in their own relationships. Today there are many slash fandoms available to readers. You can thrill to Bodie and Doyle getting it on, feel your heart palpitate along with Starsky and Hutch, or even pant along with Frodo and Sam. Well…different strokes for different folks, as we used to say. Good slash does far more than titillate, far more than serve prurient purposes, however. It is also about how we relate to each other; it’s about emotion and closeness and acceptance and the redeeming power of love. It was all there from the beginning. The best slash fandom was also the first slash fandom. Let me tell you about K/S.
K/S, shorthand for a sexual relationship between Captain James T. Kirk and his half-human science officer Spock, has been explored in over five hundred fanzines (short for fan magazines) to date. But before K/S existed at least in written form, there was K & S, stories of their relationship as friends and fellow officers in what are called “gen” zines, or zines suitable for reading by a general audience. These are mostly action-adventure stories, many of which rely heavily on hurt/comfort to drive the plot. Kirk is wounded on a mission, and Spock needs to care for him under terribly dangerous circumstances proving his loyalty and love for his captain…or vice versa. Two men from different worlds, different cultures, become as close as brothers. These stories first appeared in the late sixties and were included in anthology zines such as Tricorder Readings, Interphase and Stardate: Unknown from the early ‘70s. And Contact, perhaps the most influential of all K & S relationship zines. [See the article in this volume of Legacy for more information about the birth of Contact from Nancy Kippax, one of the zine’s editors.]
Although Gerry Downes’ Alternative: the Epilog to Orion is the first-stand alone K/S zine ever published (1976), fans had noticed and imagined that a more intimate relationship existed between James T. Kirk and Spock of Vulcan almost from the very first aired episode of Star Trek. It certainly wasn’t long before K/S stories were being written, mimeoed and quietly passed around from hand to hand. Very quietly.
From Art: Dribbling Scribbling Women by Liz
When K/S fans were compared to “scribbling women,” Constance Penley was talking about our fan fiction, but we have also been busy scribbling away with pencils, pens and paints to create some beautiful pictures of Kirk and Spock. Over the past thirty years of K/S fandom we have produced an incredible amount of art. I have no idea exactly how much, but from 1976 to 1998 we drew at least 1,661 pictures. This is the amazing total of drawings recorded, catalogued and analyzed by my dedicated data handling team! Chief of my cataloguers is the amazing Linda W.—without whose patience in sifting through zines and detailing each and every picture this project would never have been possible. Linda, let me take this opportunity to publicly salute you, you had by far the hardest part of this job.
The history of our art is as long and as fascinating as that of our zines, and it amazes me how little we actually know about it, despite the awe in which we K/S fans hold our best artists and the staggering prices we have been known to pay for the art itself. You don’t need to be a K/S fan for long before you know who Gayle F. is, and you don’t go to a K/S art auction without coming away amazed at the passion we clearly have for pictorial representations of our favourite duo. It seems to me that we have always been as interested in drawing Kirk and Spock as writing about them. Indeed, the first ever piece of K/S art was published alongside the first ever K/S story (“A Fragment Out of Time” published in Grup 3 in 1974). This picture was drawn by Diane Merchant, the author of the story, and here it is.
Interestingly, the story itself is slightly ambiguous about the identities of the two people involved, however, given the picture there can have been no doubt they were Kirk and Spock. If we take the first K/S zine, as opposed to the first story, as the beginning of K/S, then the link between fiction and illustration is just as close. The first K/S zine, Alternative: Epilog to Orion, published in 1976, included what must have been stunningly suggestive artwork showing that we were never shy about drawing Kirk and Spock together. These pictures were either drawn by the editor Gerry Downes or they were un-credited. Here is one of the more erotic pictures.
From Letterzines: The Sound and the Fury: Early Lettercols and Letterzines compiled by K.S. Langley
The debate over K/S raged furiously through the seventies, and it spilled over into letter columns in zines and in letterzines. In this article, that debate is traced through several early Star Trek publications: Halkan Council, Implosion, Warped Space, Obsc’zine, Menagerie, R&R, Enterprise Incidents, and Trekism at Length. Excerpts are quoted in part, not in whole; they are not reproduced in their entirety. They are not copyedited; they stand as written. Notes from the author or editor are in brackets [ ].
HALKAN COUNCIL began publication 12/1/74 and ended with #26/27 on 9/1/77.
It was edited by Shirley H. and Sandy Y.
HALKAN COUNCIL #12—November 1, 1975
In a review of GRUP IV by C. F:
“Diane Marchant wrote an article on the Kirk/Spock homosexual love affair premise that’s been buzzing around fannish conversations for at least a year. The idea is an interesting permutation, but Diane’s argument fails to convince because she failed to document her evidence thoroughly, and there’s a tone of ‘dirty old broad getting her rocks off, heh heh’ that distracts from the argument and debases the premise.”
HALKAN COUNCIL #13—December 1, 1975
LoC from the late Gerry Downes stated:
“Re: the possible homosexual involvement in the Kirk/Spock relationship…one of the nicest things in ST was its portrayal of a love relationship between two men without implying that they were gay. Make no mistake about it, friends, these two men love each other, and also make no mistake, their feelings do not find expression in sex.”
HALKAN COUNCIL #20/21—August 1, 1976
Gerry Downes revisited the topic:
“This is in response to 1) Jean L.’s question (HC #17) why is it that women write about close relationships between men instead of women, 2) Nancy K.’s question what if Spock went into pon farr and no one was near but Jim Kirk (HC #17), and 3) Lisa W.’s question (HC #18) what if ‘Amok Time’ and ‘Turnabout Intruder’ occurred simultaneously…. Spock is vulnerable in pon farr, but he is intensely masculine at this time. And Jim Kirk is a dynamic male figure all the time. Does this make for an unresolvable conflict? There are a lot of underground stories circulating right now (even in Alaska I’ve seen some!) attempting to deal with this question. They usually involve a near-rape situation for Jim Kirk and his either forgiving Spock and forgetting about it, or his wanting to continue the relationship…. In ‘Turnabout Intruder,’ Jim’s identity is transferred to a female body. Yet at no time does Spock step out of his supportive subordinate role. He is used to relating to Jim as a male figure, and he continues to do so even in this situation. In speculating about pon farr in this connection, the question Lisa W. is really asking is “is it necessary for Jim to be female for Spock to want him?” and I believe the answer to this is NO. Spock already loves Jim and switching roles wasn’t necessary for this to develop…. In our explorations of these two characters we have allowed them to grow beyond what we saw on television. An author always puts himself into his work, yet if we project our sex-role stereotypes onto these two men, we are not seeing the situation as Kirk and Spock would handle it, but as twentieth-century females would handle it. Perhaps we ought to speculate along these lines with a bit more care and try to understand how Jim and Spock really feel instead of simply putting ourselves inside them.
[At the end of this LoC Gerry announced that she was doing a zine on the subject herself—Alternative: The Epilog To Orion.]
In this same issue, B. C. quoted from C.S. Lewis’ essay on friendship, “The Four Loves”:
“To say that every Friendship is consciously and explicitly homosexual would be too obviously false; the wiseacres take refuge in the less palpable charge that it is really—unconsciously, cryptically, in some Pickwickian sense—homosexual. And this, though it cannot be proved, can never of course be refuted…The very lack of evidence is thus treated as evidence: the absence of smoke proves that the fire is very carefully hidden. Yes—if it exists at all. But we must first prove its existence…Those who cannot conceive Friendship as a substantive love but only as a disguise or elaboration of Eros betray the fact that they have never had a Friend.”
She went on to state: “I should say that I am not opposed to the speculation on possible homosexuality within Kirk and Spock’s relationship, just that it’s sheer speculation, because there is no evidence that they have anything but a friendship, albeit a very deep one…“
From The Internet: The Source of the Mississippi by Lyrastar
What was the first Kirk/Spock fiction to be published online? Like the quest for the source of the Mississippi, there are a couple different possible answers depending upon one’s view. Your humble Internet associate editor would vote for “A Job for the Young,” which was chronologically first.
On January 24, 1995, a member of the Usenet newsgroup alt.sex.fetish.startrek announced that she had found a Kirk/Spock story—the first she had ever seen—somewhere in the public access files of a server, but couldn’t remember the details of where, or who the author was. With apologies for not being able to give proper credit, she copied it and sent it out to the group, which up until then had been largely focused on The Next Generation.
That story was “A Job for the Young.” Although a bit roughly put together, it is fairly classic K/S with Kirk saving Spock from pon farr, Spock saving Kirk from other perils, an intense sex scene, and an up-beat ending. But questions as to its origin, as well as the intentions of the author in leaving it uploaded but (apparently) unannounced, muddy the waters and discount it in some people’s opinions.
Next up for consideration as first is the short and humorous “Trompe L’Oeil” by Susan Leg/Legge a.k.a UK Jess, posted to alt.startrek.creative on August 19, 1995. The catch here is that although written with the intent of appealing to K/S minded readers, the tease referred to in the title is that in final content, it doesn’t end up being a K/S story at all! Phooey! Apparently it worked as K/S for a significant chunk of the readership, though, for despite its face-value innocence, it was placed in the adult directory for its racy innuendo. The original post has been taken down, but the story lives on at the K/S archive. Says Jess, a K/Ser at heart who had previously published K&S gen in zines, “It was just a daft idea I had in the bath, and I wanted to share it.”
The story which is generally thought of as having started the rush of K/S online is “Turning Point” by Killashandra, or Killa as she has now come to be known, initially published one chapter at a time in late 1995 on alt.sex.fetish.startrek and completed in January 1996, making it the third piece to be presented as K/S to online readers, but without the caveats of the other two contenders for first.