"BEDTIME BOOKENDS" ("Maternal Matrimony" #9) by the Crimson Kid F/m f/m

(All rights reserved. This story's setting is midevening, about seven hours following "EAVESDROPPING", at the McMichael residence in Yamamto on the planet Vladivost, mid-28th century.)

Sitting on his junior bed on an already-sore behind, Carlton fidgeted nervously as he awaited the arrival of his wife-turned-guardian. Freshly bathed and toileted for his bedtime and attired in a newly-purchased aquamarine 'Doctor Denton' sleeper outfit, the young rejuve thought back on how he'd managed to outsmart himself that afternoon...

His decision to eavesdrop on Rebecca's conversation with her I.S.S.S. sister, Portia Highsmith, had been motivated by his five-year-old's childish curiosity. The basic plan, sitting at the second-floor stairway landing where he could easily listen in without being observed, had been virtually perfect—but its execution had become fatally flawed when he'd fallen asleep there.

About thirty minutes into Carlton's supposed naptime his one-time wife had walked upstairs, intending to check on her spousal ward, only to find him sound asleep on the all-too-comfortable thick beige carpeting covering the landing by the hallway. Rebecca had immediately and accurately surmised the reason that Carlton had been dozing on the floor rather than on his bed, and to say that she had not been pleased was a considerable understatement.

She had in fact been quite displeased with her young charge's misbehavior, the result of said displeasure having been Carlton's receiving two sound bare-bottomed, over-the-lap spankings—one from Portia, applied via the flat back a wooden cooking spoon, for invading the guest's privacy by eavesdropping, followed by another from Rebecca, administered with her brand-spanking-new 'Mother's Helper' paddle, for disobeying maternal nap-taking instructions. The young rejuve had also twice been given ten minutes of corner time, once between the two chastisments and again after the second bottom-warming was concluded, to reflect upon his dual punishments and the reasons for his receiving them.

After Carlton's tearful apologies for his misconduct and "thank you's" for his being properly disciplined by the two women, he had received the requisite post-paddling comfort and forgiveness, demonstrated through soft words, tight hugs and light kisses, from both of them.

Carlton had just awakened from his correction-interrupted nap (the second part taken obediently on his bed) ninety minutes later when Portia had been concluding her visit. The young policewoman had seemed almost radiant when the rejuved child arrived to bid her farewell, for seeing him again had rekindled her earlier strong reaction to both spanking him and comforting him afterward—truthfully, she hadn't been sure which experience she'd found more gratifying.

"Do you have anything to tell Ms. Highsmith before she leaves us?" Rebecca had gently prompted her drowsy-looking ward.

"Bye, Ms. Highsmith," Carlton had said, groggily trying to concentrate. "I'm sorry for listening in on your talk with Mommy. Thank you for...ummm...spanking my bare bottom for my misbehavior...and then forgiving me for it, ma'am."

Ruffling his already sleep-touseled blond hair, Portia had grinned at the five-year-old's attempt to stifle a yawn.

"You're so polite, sweetie," she'd marveled, "And you're very welcome, of course." Acting on a sudden impulse, she had reached down and picked Carlton up in her strong arms. "I want to ask you a favor, Carltie dear," she had told him as her forearms formed a seat under his sore rump while he put his arms loosely around her neck.

"Uhhh...Yes ma'am, sure." The shy child had given the visitor a tentative half-smile.

"Even though your mommy's no longer an official Sorority member, I consider her my spiritual sister and mentor in the fem-dis Traditionalist lifestyle." Portia had flashed a grateful glance at her hostess, then continued. "What that means is that I'll be visiting your house a lot when your family is here on the planet."

"I'd like that, ma'am." Carlton's response had been more than mere politeness, since he'd found himself feeling genuinely fond of the young woman holding him in her arms—she smelled fresh and clean, she'd been willing to help discipline him when he'd deserved it and she'd been sweet to him afterward.

"The favor is this," the policewoman had explained, "I would like you to call me 'Aunt Portia' when you address me from now on. Is that all right with you?"

"Oh, yes ma'am, Ms. High—Aunt Portia." The five-year-old had turned his head to meet his guardian's gaze. "If that's okay with you, Mommy...?"

Rebecca had nodded approvingly. "That would be fine with me—it's both respectful and affectionate." She'd pushed aside a momentary regret that she would be administering a very sound bare-bottom strapping to her young ward that evening.

"Then I'll see you again soon, Carltie honey." After planting a quick kiss on each of the boy's cheeks, Portia had set him back down on his feet.

"Okay, Aunt Portia," Carlton had agreed drowsily.

Two minutes later, as the front door had slid open after Rebecca's palmprint released its magnalock, her guest had expressed her gratitude.

"Thanks for sharing your insights on fem-dis spousal spanking with me, Becca," the policewoman had told her marital-discipline mentor. "Now I might also need your help in applying for a parenting license."

"Parenting license?" Rebecca had sounded incredulous.

Portia had nodded slowly, looking past her hostess to where Carlton had been eagerly activating a simulgame on the living room holovision field.

"I think I might want to experience motherhood..."

Nantessa had arrived back home just before suppertime, carrying a few of her favorite clothing purchases—most of them would be arriving the following morning by minitube delivery—and bearing gifts.

After depositing several of the packages in her bedroom, the beaming teenager had returned to the living room with two small compwrapped bundles and a datadisk magazine.

"It's the first story of this week's SIGNAL TIME," she'd informed Rebecca, handing her mother the magadisk. "There are some good holoshots from the medical center and from the landslide location too—I checked it out on my pad during the tube trip home."

"Thank you, darling." Rebecca had placed the disk on the coffee table. "I'll look at it after supper."

Nantessa had then handed the two highly-compressed packages to Carlton.

"For you, little brother." She'd playfully ruffled his curly hair.

He had smiled shyly upon accepting the sisterly presents. "Thank you so much, Nannie."

Unwrapping the smaller package by awkwardly twisting its autorelease knob, the young rejuve had watched the item inside expand to normal size as the compwrap released and opened up—it had been a child-scaled but otherwise accurate model of a greenish-gray Wehrmacht field cap, made of light yet durable synwool.

"These hats are super-popular in Guderian," his older sibling had enthused, "Lots of young kids were wearing them at the outlet center." Sitting down next to Carlton on the couch, Nantessa had taken the soft, full-brimmed military cap and carelessly plopped it onto his head.

Rebecca had chuckled at her ward's sloppily-bemused appearance. "I'm not sure those twentieth-century soldiers wore them exactly like that."

With slight difficulty, Carlton had then autoreleased the ultratight wrapping of the somewhat larger bundle to reveal a comfy-looking aquamarine 'Doctor Denton' sleeper outfit, complete with footies and the classic three-button 'trap-door' seat flap.

"Is that your favorite color, Carltie?" Nantessa had asked him. "Turquoise is a bluish green, right?"

"Actually, it's aquamarine," her mother had interjected. "Turquoise is a greenish blue, dear."

The teenager had shrugged, looking perplexed. "Bluish green, greenish blue..."

"I love it anyway, Nannie," the five-year-old had gratefully told his sister, leaning into her side then turning to embrace her snugly. "That's why you asked me about my favorite color this morning, isn't it?"

Nantessa had grinned impishly. "You've got me there, cutie."

Ping! The kitchen multicooker's sensor had sounded at that point.

"Suppertime," Rebecca had announced, "Let's go eat, children."

At the gentle insistence of his guardian, Carlton had rather bashfully told his sister about his eavesdropping misadventure while at the supper table.

Upon being informed of the double smartly-smacking consequences that had befallen her younger brother's bare derriere, the teenager had expressed proper sisterly sympathy.

"Oh, double ouchie-stingy! I hope you're not too sore still, sweetie...?" The five-year-old had grimaced briefly. "A little still, yes."

Nantessa hadn't been able to keep from grinning ruefully. "You need to be smarter about your spying, baby brother, so you don't get caught from now on." After glancing toward her mother, she'd winked conspiratorially at Carlton. "I can give you some pointers later, Carltie...First of all, though, don't try listening in on anything when you're half asleep—you've got to be alert at all times to pull it off."

Rebecca had chuckled. "I think he's learned that lesson already, Nannie—Aunt Portia and I helped him internalize it fully."

(Playfully teasing about past spankings was a common practice in strict Traditionalist households, where such discipline occurred quite regularly. The lighthearted, almost-joking attitude served to demonstrate that there were no hard feelings or grudges held—by either spanker or spankee—once the chastisement was concluded.)

Two hours later Carlton had found himself being prepared for his bedtime, and the maternal bare-bottom strapping that would immediately precede it, by his loving older sister. Nantessa had washed his nude body completely during his bath, being almost caressingly careful while thoroughly soaping his still-tender behind, then she'd drained the bathtub and turned on the shower after setting it for a light, semi-misty spray.

While his body had been rinsing off, Carlton's hair had been shampooed and mildly scrubbed by his highly-efficient sibling.

"Close your eyes and mouth, honey," Nantessa had instructed him, "Then duck your head under the spray for a couple minutes to rinse out your hair." The stark-naked young rejuve had followed the sisterly instructions and had soon after finished up feeling refreshingly clean, being brisky toweled dry under his sister's caring hands.

Carlton had smiled wryly as his teenaged caregiver had dried his plumply-rounded bumcheeks with soft pats of the thick bath towel.

"I guess I'd better enjoy my bottom being treated nicely while I can," he'd remarked ironically, his remaining adult rationality momentarily asserting itself in his consciousness, "Because I don't expect Mommy's strap to be nearly so kind to it."

"I'm afraid not, sweetie," Nantessa had agreed, her voice compassionate. "There's an old Terran saying from way back—I think it first was about having sex, but it also applies to sneaking around Mom's rules of behavior."

"What's that?" the young Medicalos had asked, his five-year-old's body by then completely dried off.

"If you can't be good, be careful." His big sister had flashed him a ruefully sympathetic grin as she'd held up his spanking-new aquamarine pajama outfit. "Well, let's get you into this sleeper suit, baby brother..."

Click-clack click-clack click-clack click-clack click-clack...

Carlton's reflective reverie was broken by the approaching patent-leather footsteps on the hallway's ceramic-tiled floor, then Rebecca burst into her ward's bedroom. Wearing a royal blue Starfleet-issue bathrobe, the tall, black-haired admiral was gripping her short, snappy leather strap and carrying a small couch pillow as she addressed the apprehensive, quivering five-year-old.

"Carltie, it seems that we have some serious disciplinary business to transact now," she announced calmly, "Doesn't it?"

Staring down at the floor, the young rejuve nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Mommy..."

"I'd originally planned to give you only a half-and-half spanking tonight, which means applying the first part with my hand and then finishing up with the strap—it was going to be thirty swats to your bare buns with each." The admiral shook her head, maternal regret showing on her face and in her tone of voice.

"However, now you have to be punished for invading my privacy this afternoon, sweetheart. You've been properly paddled for disrespecting Aunt Portia and for disobeying me already, but I couldn't bring myself to administer a third chastisement right after those two."

"Th-Thank you for that, Mommy." Carlton's voice reflected the shame he felt at having disappointed his one-time wife by his childish eavesdropping.

"Don't be too grateful yet, little boy." Desperate to give her downcast ward some shred of comfort, Rebecca pocketed her strap then briefly ruffled his curly blond hair.

"I've decided not to give you a separate spanking for your disrespect to me, but instead I'm going to upgrade your bedtime fanny-tanning considerably—seven dozen strokes of the leather strap across your bare behind, all of them blistering hard."

Carlton swallowed hard, his small body shivering with dread.

"Whatever you think I deserve, Mommy..."

"Then let's get this bare-bottom strapping over with, honey." Turning and sitting, the strong-willed woman seated herself just to the left of her young ward.

After placing the small rectangular pillow on her right thigh, Rebecca smoothly lifted the five-year-old onto her lap and adjusted his position to optimally elevate his boyish rump—bent over the pillow, it projected invitingly upward to her right. She quickly unbuttoned the outfit's drop seat, lowering it to expose Carlton's compactly-rounded posterior.

"Just where I want you, young man." Reaching into her bathrobe's right pocket, the formidable woman withdrew the wickedly-flexible leather strap; raising it over her shoulder while tightly gripping its flexiform handle, she pressed firmly against the helpless child's waist with her left palm.

"Brace yourself, darling—it's time to pay the piper."

Carlton shuddered and then began to sob softly, even before the first leathering lick landed atop his naked backside. With steely resolve, his maternal disciplinarian forcefully snapped her short, supple strap downward...

CRACK!! THWACK!! SPLACK!! CRACK!! THWAP!! CRACK!! SPLACK!! THWACK!!

Swinging the sharply-cracking leather steadily and vigorously, Rebecca delivered a sizzling, stinging chastisement that blazed across the chubby bare nether cheeks of her hapless young spankee like an out-of-control brush fire—although she herself was totally controlled with an iron-hard self-discipline. The searing strokes of the strap, alternating rapidly-reddening asscheeks as targets with military precision, were heavily concentrated on Carlton's most openly-exposed area, the 'sit spot' at the base of his bare fanny. Those highly-sensitive plump undercheeks, already having been worked over earlier by the wooden spoon and the "Helper' paddle, quickly became a red-hot inferno of flaming intensity.

THWACK!! CRACK!! SPLACK!! THWAP!! CRACK!! THWACK!! SPLACK!! CRACK!!

Carlton's minimal self-control, already breaking down even before his spanking had started, completely vanished by the sixth fiery-hot crack of the stinging leather across his nakedly-vulnerable boyish buns. The young rejuve howled and bawled throughout the blistering-hard maternal chastisement, frantically kicking his legs and desperately but vainly twisting his hips as the leathering licks plastered his upturned 'spank spot' with clockwork regularity, making his childishly tender, brightly-glowing gluteal globes bounce buoyantly with each blistering impact from the wickedly-snapping implement of correction.

With a forced determination, Rebecca firmly held her wailing, blubbering spankee in position until the eighty-fourth and final stroke of the strap blazed blisteringly across his elevated, scarlet-striped seat and Carlton's last pitiful howl immediately followed its impact.

Then the five-year-old's punisher quickly became his comforter, pocketing her devilishly-effective strap while caressingly rubbing her piteously-weeping ward's back with her left hand.

"It's over, sweetheart...Oh, that wasn't easy for either of us, but it had to be done...I know that it's for the best in the long run, but it's hard on me to make you cry so much...Now I can give you some tender, caring attention, not that hot, stinging kind...That's my beautiful, sweet, brave little boy..."

After letting Carlton regain a modicum of self-control while she soothed him both physically and emotionally, Rebecca produced the tube of nanolotion and softly rubbed the cooling gel onto his thoroughly-striped derriere while keeping him over her lap—the elevation of his glowing-hot bottom allowing her ideal access to his 'sit spot,' which required extensive but delicate treatment.

Nantessa arrived with her sibling's cup of Siberoot tea just as the gentle nanolotion application was being finished. Two quick glances, one at her mother's subtlely-strained facial features and another at her brother's leather-ravaged rump, convinced the pretty teenager that the disciplinary session had been quite an ordeal for both of its participants.

"It looks like you really got it good, baby brother," Nantessa noted, trying to inject a little lightness into her deeply-sympathetic tone. "I sure hope the nanolotion has cooled your fanny off a little bit—though it still looks pretty scorched to me, honey."

Rebecca pulled the pajamas' seat flap up over Carlton's behind, then rebuttoned it in place. "Let's get you sitting up in bed, darling, so you can drink your tea." She easily turned his body over, scooped him up in her arms, kissed his tearstained face repeatedly and then turned around to carefully lower him onto his bed; Nantessa proved quick-witted enough to set down the cup and turn back the bedcovers for her brother to crawl under.

Then Carlton gingerly sat up on his somewhat-soothed seat and carefully drank the mildly-heated soporific liquid, which tasted quite good, while Nantessa sat down and turned to caressingly dab at his cheeks with an instaclean medicated pad After being fondly hugged and kissed by both his older sister and Rebecca, he was gently tucked under the covers by his loving spousal guardian; he embraced Esme, his female teddy bear, as the light was turned off.

As he dimly heard the two sets of feminine footsteps departing his bedroom, the five-year-old was vaguely aware that his sleep time was going to be 'bookended' by spankings since he faced a wake-up paddling from his teenaged sibling in the morning. How intensively and extensively Nantessa would chastise him was something that he couldn't project accurately, but he did have the reassurance of knowing that she would extend him affection and forgiveness afterward.

Still, Carlton told himself just before drifting off into a contented slumber, this could've been a much worse situation than it is—if he had to be a rejuved young boy in a strict Traditionalist family, it was very nice being treated caringly between his bare-bottomed wallopings.

Sitting in the kitchen's breakfast nook and sipping hot cocoa, his two loving caregivers were starting a serious mother-daughter conversation about their childlike charge while he was falling asleep...

"That strapping was pretty tough for you to give Carltie," Nantessa noted rather somberly, "Wasn't it, Mom?"

Rebecca sighed ruefully. "I figured it would be at least six weeks before I'd even be considering showing him some mercy—I was that upset over your father's having to be rejuved when he could have avoided it."

"Six WEEKS? I was figuring on six YEARS of walloping his bare bumcheeks without a second thought." The teenager grinned wryly. "I was happily paddling those chubby cheekies to a glowing dark red for two days—until..."

"Until I told you to give Carltie some comfort and forgiveness after his punishment, and you did." The admiral sipped her hot, sweet drink. "What happened then, sweetness?"

"Then he became my baby brother, instead of just a bare bottom to whack my frustrations out on." Nantessa stirred her cocoa with a spoon. "I suddenly saw a sobbing, sensitive little boy who needed caring and affection..."

"After you'd been brought up to be sweet and sympathetic, especially to people who are hurting," Rebecca added. "It was a test, Nannie, to see if you were able to start being forgiving toward your new brother—I was listening outside his bedroom." Her gaze met her daughter's. "If you had just gone through the motions of comforting Carltie, I'd have known that you weren't ready to be a loving big sister to him yet."

"I guess eavesdropping must be a family tradition." The thirteen-year-old grinned quickly, then bit her lip briefly. "Now that I'm feeling so sisterly toward Carltie, it's going to make it hard for me when I'm supposed to spank him—at least the wake-up paddlings, which aren't for any misbehavior on his part."

"There's a valid psychological reason for the scheduled spankings, darling—down deep, they're necessary for both your brother and for us in dealing with this situation." The admiral's determined expression relaxed slightly before she continued talking. "That being said, I'm strongly in favor of reducing both the frequency and severity of Carltie's regular morning-and-evening fanny-tannings. Of course, any bare-bottom blisterings that he earns through misconduct will still be very sound and quite lengthy."

"I agree on that, Mom—it's the strict Traditionalist approach, isn't it? 'Spare the rod and spoil the child'...Leave no naughty child's fanny unspanked...Show him that you care—spank him, bottom bare..." Nannie's speech tailed off, then she sipped her hot chocolate.

Rebecca nodded slowly in accord.

"Followed by calming words and cooling lotion, hugs and kisses, comfort and forgiveness—and the reminder that he's not a bad boy at all, but a very good boy who just misbehaved momentarily."

"So we can reduce the number of unearned punishments Carltie gets, Mom?" asked her daughter.

"Within reason, dear," the admiral agreed. "You can use your paddling-free lumnicards, but I'd suggest not giving out more than two per week to your little brother."

Nantessa frowned uncertainly. "That still leaves five wake-up paddlings each week." She sighed regretfully. "I'm not sure that I'm up to walloping my baby brother's bare behind that much."

"You don't have to administer a full-fledged paddling every time you spank him, sweetness," Rebecca pointed out. "You can give him a half-and-half bottom-warming, or even just a handspanking, on some mornings."

"Half-and-half means first using my palm and then finishing up with the 'Seat-Sizzler' paddle?" The teenaged girl pondered the disciplinary possibilities of providing both justice and mercy.

"That's correct—but if you want to use the 'Helper' paddle or my short strap for variety, you're free to borrow them anytime, dear." The admiral took a deep, throat-warming swallow of her cocoa. "It doesn't have to really involve equal halves, either—you could swat Carltie's bare buns with your hand for five minutes and then apply an implement for the final three, let's say."

Nantessa chewed her lower lip, looking pensive. "I think I'll just administer a pure handspanking tomorrow morning, Mom."

Her mother chuckled indulgently, realizing that she could hardly complain about Nantessa's desire to be merciful toward her younger sibling.

"All right, darling—that's your decision. However, I do insist that you smack your brother's bare seat good and hard with your palm—no love-pats, please, or you'll be doing him a disservice in the long run." Rebecca's gaze firmly met her daughter's brown eyes, and the girl nodded silently. "You'll probably want to put on your spanking glove at some point—after five minutes or so of handspanking, your palm may start to smart a bit."

The teenager thought of the two tight-fitting, soft leather gloves that she'd ordered from the nearby Stinging Upbringing outlet—both right-handed, one in her own hand size and one in her mother's.

"I will, Mom." Her brows furrowed. "Of course, that will save my hand but make my spanks sting more on Carltie's bare behind, won't it? According to the holoview demonstration from Stinging Upbringing, a spanking glove applied on his naked buttcheeks will increase the spankee's sensation of a handspanking by fifty percent—not as stingy as a paddle or strap, but more intense than a bare palm."

(Nantessa had obviously scrutinized her disciplinary purchases carefully.)

"Just the chastisement that your little brother needs right now." Rebecca finished off her cup of hot chocolate. "If we bring Carltie up properly, incorporating high standards, strictly-applied corporal punishment for misconduct or poor performance, gentle understanding, loving care and plenty of physical affection...He'll become a better man than he originally was as an adult—and he was generally a fine man then."

She stood up. "Well, I'll go activate the nanolotion now. Just remember, darling, to put some nice bright red palmprints on your baby brother's bare bottom tomorrow morning."

Nantessa grinned. "Got you, Mom. I'll take care of it, don't worry..."

The following morning the pretty teenager did indeed take care of disciplinary business as she'd promised her mother, administering Carlton's postbedtime bookend chastisement.

After awakening her little brother with a kiss on his cheek and a ruffle of his sleep-touseled blond hair, Nantessa sent him on a quick bathroom visit. Upon his return, Carlton was promptly upended over his seated big sister's lap, gently adjusted into optimal punishment-recieving position and given proper 'southern exposure' as nimble feminine fingers unbuttoned and lowered his flannel pajamas' drop seat.

"Your cute bumcheeks are back to being snow white again, Carltie," his sisterly disciplinarian announced, but her tone was friendly rather than mocking. "I'm going to give you a good sound handspanking now, so brace your chubby bare buns for some smarting swats."

"Yes, Miss Nantessa." The five-year-old inhaled anxiously.

His older sibling began to vigorously apply her bare hand to his upturned naked buttocks—Slap! Smack! Splat! Smack! Slap! Smack! Splat! Smack!

Nantessa walloped Carlton's compactly-rounded, exposed gluteal globes briskly and steadily for over four minutes, making her young spankee gasp, yelp, squirm and eventually cry softly as his soundly-smacked seat colored up nicely—first to a bright pink and then eventually to a softly-glowing rosy red.

Pausing briefly, the teenaged chastiser reached into her left pocket and withdrew her black leather spanking glove while her sobbing sibling, tears trickling down his face, struggled to control his breathing.

"My hand is almost as hot as your red rump," Nantessa noted breezily while she pulled the snug-fitting glove onto her right hand, "So I'm going to try out this fanny-tanning glove to finish up your bare-bottom smacking, Carltie. This should increase the sting of my spanks quite a bit, unfortunately for you—so get ready, sweetheart..."

SMACK! SPLAT! WHACK! SMACK! WHAP! SMACK! SPLAT! SMACK!

Administering swift, energetic swats that impacted quite smartly upon Carlton's bouncing bare buttcheeks, his big sister employed her leather-covered smacking palm for two minutes as the five-year-old wept continuously while his naked posterior heated up rapidly; the glove's leather surface did indeed make his sister's cracking-crisp handspanks much more stingingly effective.

Then the chastisement ceased abruptly, followed immediately by Nantessa's exhaling gently in relief as she regarded her little brother's rosily-glowing bottom.

"That does it well enough, honey. Now it's time for lots of T.L.C., I believe..."

{THE END}

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