"COMRADES-IN-REJUVES" ("Maternal Matrimony" #11) by the Crimson Kid F/f F/m
(All rights reserved. This story's setting begins on the morning following "SKYWARD BOUND" in the McMichael family's Starfleet quarters on Starbase Seventeen, orbiting the planet Vladivost in the mid-28th century.)
Sitting at the kitchen table after programming the multicooker's menu selector to produce a traditional Terran-style breakfast, Rebecca accessed the high-security Starfleet database via her personal datapad to review critical interstellar events. Sometimes she enjoyed actually cooking the family's meals herself, but she'd decided to conserve her energy for what would likely be an extremely busy workday as she actively reassumed command of the space station.
Nantessa had been sent to Carlton's bedroom to awaken him and help him prepare for his first school day as a rejuved five-year-old, but there were no smacking or wailing sounds emanating from that direction since the pretty teenager had given her younger brother a paddling-free lumnicard the previous evening. Instead of having whacking hardwood applied to his bare bottom, Rebecca's one-time husband was being affectionately cuddled by his sweet sibling, happily sitting on her lap rather than squirming while upended across it.
Rebecca reflected momentarily upon the previous evening's disciplinary activities, which had featured "Bottom-warmings, nanolotion and Siberoot tea for two," as she'd described them to her children. Carlton's flap-down seat-smacking had been a moderate handspanking, but Nantessa's self-assigned chastisement had involved an intensive bare-bottom walloping with a leather paddle.
That blistering 'woodshed session' had left the thirteen-year-old blubbering shamelessly, yet she'd still managed to insist upon standing in the corner, nightgown held up to expose her glowing crimson bumcheeks, while her mother had taken care of Carlton's nanolotion and Siberoot tea needs. The young rejuve had earlier made himself solemnly face face into his own bedroom's corner, rosy rump on display, until his guardian had returned from administering Nantessa's discipline.
Nantessa entered the kitchen just as the cooker's loud ping signaled that breakfast was ready; she was wearing the female academic uniform of the 'Brat Academy,' the station's advanced preparatory institute—navy blue knee-length skirt, white short-sleeved blouse with navy blue trim, black leather belt, soft-soled black shoes and calf-high white socks.
Herself attired in the royal blue, bronze-trimmed duty uniform of a Starfleet rear admiral, Rebecca noticed her daughter's cheerful expression.
"You're looking chipper this morning, darling." She lightly kissed the teenager's cheek, then patted her skirted behind. "Being soundly spanked seems to agree with you—maybe I should paddle your bare buns more often."
"Only when I deserve it, Mom." Nantessa activated the multicooker's serving function and its compartmentalized tray of prepared food slid outward. She sighed softly. "Being a big sister is a whole new role, isn't it?"
"You're getting it down pretty well, sweetness," the admiral assured her daughter. "You're overall very caring and considerate toward Carltie, and he knows that you love him. He'll forgive your honest mistakes without holding any grudges, so don't worry too much."
Nantessa nodded, recalling how warmly her brother had hugged her after she'd awakened him, along with his insistence on doing corner time during her punishment the previous evening. Taking the hot tray by its insulated handles, she set it down on the omniplast tabletop.
"It's sure nice to get Carltie up with a kiss and cuddling rather than a spanking," she told her mother. "So is there any way to eliminate more of his wake-up paddlings besides using my lumnicards?"
"We'll discuss it this afternoon after school, darling." Rebecca initialized the storage unit to release three breakfast place settings, which she handed to her daughter for placement on the table.
Carlton entered the kitchen a moment later, wearing the rejuve school's kindergarten uniform—it had a semi-military, Starfleet-style cut and was kelly green with dark brown trim. Like his female family members, he was wearing an identification lumnibadge—it indicated his name, school grade ("KN") and classroom number ("003").
"Good morning, Carltie dear." Leaning over, the admiral kissed her spousal ward's forehead. "Ready for your first day of kindergarten?"
"Yes, Mommy." He plucked at his uniform shirt, which was made of comfort-fitting quasicotton. "How do I look, anyway?"
His guardian beamed. "You look adorable, honey."
"Adorable?" The five-year-old shook his head. "I was hoping for handsome."
"You're adorably handsome, cutie," Nantessa informed him, grinning broadly.
"Or handsomely adorable," Rebecca added quite sincerely, activating the storage unit to release serving utensils and a small pitcher of chilled citrijuice.
"You'll knock the little girls dead, baby brother," his older sister assured Carlton. "Figuratively speaking, that is."
Placing the pitcher on the table, the admiral waved the serving utensils toward the chairs. "Let's eat, children—it's going to be a challenging day for all of us."
As the family consumed its Terran-style breakfast of sausage, scrambled eggs, home fries and juice, Rebecca shared one item of Starfleet-oriented information with her two children.
"Alexandra Malevelle was recently promoted to commodore, now she's the new chief of Internal Investigations for this sector," she announced. "It'll be released to the media tomorrow morning."
"Alexandra Malevelle?" Nantesa's brow furrowed in uncertainty.
"An old flame of your father's, when he was an Academy cadet." The Amazonian woman smiled impishly at Carlton, who had begun to fidget childishly. "Remember her, Carltie?"
"It was for just a couple months that I dated her, during my first year at the Academy." He gazed at the crystal-clear table top, refusing to meet either female's gaze. "It was no big deal, Reb—uh, Mommy."
"It was to her," the admiral countered. "When you started seeing me instead of her, she certainly tried to get you back. I remember catching the two of you at that clandestine rendezvous at Roddenberry Park."
"Daddy was seeing her behind your back?" The thirteen-year-old's voice held rapt interest.
"No, I wasn't—I was just explaining to Alexandra what the situation was." The young rejuve shivered, remembering the scene vividly although it was from his past adult existence. "Then your mother suddenly showed up, the women exchanged verbal unpleasantries and Alexandra departed abruptly."
"So that resolved everything?" Nantessa asked doubtfully.
"No, it most certainly didn't," her mother replied bluntly. "I gave your father an ultimatum, which he accepted, then I produced my hairbrush and taught him a good long lesson over my lap."
"Did you take his pants down, right there in the park?" The young teenager was obviously intrigued at the revelations she was receiving.
"Every single spanking I've ever given your father has been applied to his bare behind," Rebecca confirmed, "Including that first one."
"The park was deserted, except for us," Carlton explained, sounding uncomfortable.
"Which was quite fortuitous, since quite a lot of noise resulted," his spousal guardian remarked cheerfully. "My lecturing, your frantic begging and bawling—accompanied by those loud, ringing smacks from that punishment brush." She chuckled, visualizing the scene from almost two decades earlier. "Oh, did I ever enjoy myself that night!"
"I'll bet Daddy had a different perspective," Nantessa surmised. "Too bad I wasn't around to HV record that one, it sounds pretty entertaining."
Her mother grinned and nodded. "Tremendously fullfilling, teaching my boyfriend a stinging, red-bottomed lesson about sneaking around on me. That set the disciplinary pattern for our relationship, which ended up greatly benefitting us both." She smiled warmly at Carlton. "Right, sweetie?"
The five-year-old squirmed in his seat. "Yuh-Yes, Mommy."
His pretty sister chuckled at the contrast her father-turned-brother provided, first speaking with a sophisticated adult vocabulary but then reacting emotionally like the immature child he essentially was.
Thirty minutes later, the young rejuve was tightly gripping Rebecca's hand as the duo entered the Starfleet School of Starbase Seventeen and located his kindergarten classroom. It was several minutes before the academic day was to officially begin, so the admiral exchanged greetings with the teacher, a moderately attractive, thirtyish-looking dishwater blonde named Katrina Kemp.
"Remember that I'm a strict Traditionalist," the taller, older woman reminded the youthful-looking instructor. "If Carlton misbehaves in any way, you're to soundly smack his bare behind with your paddle—then also be sure to inform me about it, so I'll be able to reinforce his disciplinary lesson later at home."
"So you told me yesterday," Mrs. Kemp acknowledged. "Usually a Medicalos, especially a military hero, would be given some slack while adjusting to his new life."
"No slack for Carlton, I want him red-bottomed and bawling whenever he needs any correction." Rebecca smiled reassuringly in response to the teacher's doubtful expression. "That being said, Katrina, don't expect many disciplinary problems from my little Carltie; he's basically a good boy, and he's fully aware of the stinging consequences of improper conduct at school—or anywhere else, for that matter."
"That's good to know, Admiral McMichael." The younger woman sounded relieved.
"Rebecca, please, since we'll be working together when necessary." The admiral nodded slightly. "I've got to go run this starbase now, so have a good day."
After giving Carlton a kiss on his forehead and playfully ruffling his soft, curly hair, his Starfleet-uniformed guardian departed the classroom.
The teacher, having just been put on a first-name basis with the space station's commanding officer, sighed softly as she looked benignly down at her new student.
"I'm Mrs. Kemp, Carltie," she informed him, smiling sweetly. "Let's get you situated on a free foamseat, since class is about to begin."
"Very pleased to meet you, ma'am." The new kindergartener shyly flashed a brief but winning smile, making the woman sincerely hope that she wouldn't have to spank him at all as she gently took his hand in hers.
For his part, Carlton liked the way that his instructor's comfortably-cut sky blue uniform matched her blonde hair, pale blue eyes and peaches-and-cream complexion. She seemed quite friendly, although he was still aware that she had the authority to upend him over her lap for bare-cheeked chastisement if necessary.
The foamseats were arranged in a semicircle, and the newcomer found himself sitting next to a cute little girl with medium brown hair in short, curly ringlets. She was also a Medicalos, as indicated by the silvery "M" just above each of her wrists, and she seemed rather anxious.
"Attention please, children," Mrs. Kemp addressed the thirteen young rejuves, eight girls and five boys, who were seated facing her. "I hope you all enjoyed the two extra days we had off last week to celebrate Vladivostan Foundation Day. We have two newly-rejuved students who are entering kindergarten today, so let's welcome them warmly. Please stand up and give us a little background on yourself and how you came to be rejuved, one at a time."
She looked at the girl next to Carlton. "Ladies first, Montana..."
The young lady nervously scrambled to her feet, then turned to face her fellow kindergarteners.
"Hi...I'm Montana Starr, a Medicalos...I was just rejuved luh-last week, now I live on this station with my Aunt Amanda...Before that, I lived on Vladivost in a mining colony."
Mrs. Kemp was gazing at a datapad in her left hand. "You were fifty-three years old, in your third adulthood, and you underwent three emergency medical rejuves...Is that correct, Montana?"
"Th-That's ruh-right," Montana stammered. "My family felt that I'd do better here, away from people I'd known as an adult—for a while, anyway."
"What condition caused you to need three rejuves?" the teacher asked.
"Extended exposure to Kelvaron radiation," the female Medicalos explained. "A rockslide suddenly exposed a big deposit, and our mining crew was rescued by a Starfleet medical team." She shuddered momentarily. "As the oldest, I waited to be the last person treated and evacuated—I was lucky to survive, thanks to a Starfleet doctor who risked his own life to treat me in time."
Carlton gasped sharply, then stared in astonishment at his neighboring classmate.
"Don't be rude, Carltie," their instructor admonished lightly, before addressing Montana again. "So what's your physiological age now, dear?"
"Five years and ten months," the girl replied, "Terran standard time."
"Terran standard is used throughout Starfleet," the teacher noted. "You may sit down now, Montana."
"Thank you, ma'am." She hesitated, then turned and clumsily dropped onto her foamseat.
"Your turn, Carltie." Mrs. Kemp looked clinically at her other new student. "You look pale...Are you all right?"
"Yuh-Yes, ma'am." Carlton quickly climbed to his feet. "I didn't mean to offend Montana, ma'am, it's just that...well, I'm...or rather I was..."
"You were a Starfleet medical officer, weren't you?" the woman asked calmly.
"Oh my God!" Montana was clearly dumbstruck. "It was you, wasn't it?"
Turning to face the stunned girl, her rejuved rescuer nodded slowly. "Lieuenant Commander Carlton Kristain, Starfleet Medical Corps..."
After stumbling back to her feet, his new classmate wrapped Carlton in a tight, heartfelt embrace.
Mrs. Kemp, belatedly understanding the situation, beamed as the two newcomers hugged one another.
"Well, Carltie," she chuckled appreciatively, "You seem to make friends easily."
Indeed, the two comrades-in-rejuves were beginning a close relationship that would help to mutually sustain them through their adjustments to abruptly-achieved childhood.
After such an incredible beginning, the remainder of Carlton's first day as a freshly-rejuved kindergartener was almost anticlimatic. He did discover that the class was made up mainly of Voluntaras pupils, with Montana and himself as the only Medicalos members and one girl who was an Innocentata—a relative rarity even among rejuved children. (Penitatas rejuves, convicted criminals informally called "pennies," traditionally did not attend kindergarten.)
Traveling home via turbotube with Nantessa, who had picked him up from school, Carlton described encountering the woman he'd rescued on Vladivost as his fellow kindergarten newcomer.
"So the first female classmate you met literally threw herself into your arms, huh cutie?" The teenager leaned over and lightly kissed her younger brother's cheek. "I told you that the little girls would fall all over you in that uniform," she teased affectionately.
"Quite a coincidence," the five-year-old remarked, "But at least I've already made a rejuve friend at school."
"Speaking of making friends," his sister informed him, "I'm supposed to leave you off at Commodore Treadwell's quarters—she has a surprise for you."
"Commodore Treadwell?" Carlton's brow furrowed in uncertainty. "What kind of surprise could she have for me, Nannie?"
"Mom told me to let you find out for yourself," Nantessa explained. "She sent me a datapad message today while I was at the Academy." She smiled slyly. "Let's just say that you'll see how life could've been worse for you than it is now, baby brother."
Standing within the doorway's holoview field at the commodore's quarters, Carlton mentally braced himself to interact with another Starfleet acquaintance from his former life. At least Lavinia Treadwell hadn't known his adult self that well, he reassured himself, although she maintained a close relationship with Rebecca.
However, the person whom the young rejuve encountered when the doorway opened wasn't the middle-aged executive officer but rather her live-in lover, Selena Lamonica—a beautiful, pale-skinned young woman with long-flowing jet black hair and deep blue eyes. Tall and lithe, she was wearing forest green work fatigues and a lumnibadge that identified her as a civilian employee in the station's extensive hydroponics bay.
"Carlton...Come in, please." Selena gave the anxious child an awkward half-smile as he entered the living room.
"You can call me Carltie, Miss Lamonica." Carlton was slightly relieved to see the younger woman first, since they had briefly met only twice during his adult Starfleet career.
"Okay, Carltie." She motioned toward the long, plush sofa. "Please sit down for a minute—and you can still call me Selena if you'd like."
As he seated himself, Carlton shook his head. "That would be disrespectful, Miss Lamonica, since you're a grownup woman and I'm a five-year-old child. I have to be careful about minding my manners, ma'am."
Selena's features dimpled as she grinned. "Well, you've certainly been taught to be polite. We'll have to learn that secret from your wife—ahhh, guardian I mean—if she hasn't told Lavie about it already."
The boy's expression became puzzled. "Why would you ladies want to—"
His question was interrupted by a sharp SMACK!! that was immediately followed by a boyish yelp. Originating from behind a closed hallway door left the sounds somewhat muffled, yet Carlton had little trouble identifying them from his own first-hand experience.
His lovely hostess sat down beside him, noticing his apprehensive reaction as the smacking sounds continued steadily while the resultant yelping became more frantic in tone.
"Do you recognize what's happening inside that bedroom, Carltie?" she asked nonchalantly.
Carlton shivered slightly. "It sounds like a spanking, Miss Lamonica—I'd guess a wooden paddle being used on a fairly young boy's bare behind."
"Very astute of you." Selena reached over to playfully tousle her guest's blond hair. "Have you personally experienced that kind of discipline lately, young man?"
"Yes, ma'am." He gulped softly. "It's a major reason that I try so hard to behave myself."
The feminine eyebrows arched. "So are there other reasons too?"
"I wouldn't want to disappoint my mother and sister by misbehaving," the five-year-old explained sincerely, "That's important to me also."
"Oh, you really are adorably sweet," the young woman gushed. "If we can bring up Billy to be even half as nice, I'll be satisfied."
"Billy's...the boy...being paddled?" Carlton asked hesitantly, aware that the childish yelps had been replaced by continuous desperate wailing as the relentless paddleswats continued to ring out clearly from behind the door down the hall.
"Yes, that's him receiving his 'welcome home' fanny-whacking from Lavie." Selena giggled girlishly. "She's really walloping his bare buns good and hard, isn't she? My turn comes tonight at Billy's bedtime, when I'll get to break in my brand-spanking-new punishment brush while he's butt-naked over my lap."
"He's a Penitatas?" Inwardly, the young Medicalos winced in sympathy for his then-unseen fellow rejuve, since the attractive hydroponics technician looked quite physically fit and was obviously eager to administer a blistering-hard hairbrush chastisement that evening.
"Yes, one specially chosen for our...ummm...domestic situation." She smiled cryptically. "I'll let Billy elaborate on it for you, as much as he wants to—assuming that you two become friends quickly, which is what we're hoping."
Inside his new bedroom, formerly a small guest room, Billy Treadwell—until very recently Billy Goodnight—was sprawled helplessly across his new mother's thighs with his tan shorts clinging around his ankles and his butter-yellow briefs tangled at his knees, thus leaving his well-reddened buttcheeks unprotected but restricting the newly-rejuved spankee's frenzied kicking.
Marginally taller than Carlton, Billy was stockily-built with close-cropped black hair and gray-green eyes, which at that moment were overbrimming with freely-flowing tears; in spite of his moderately swarthy complexion, the penny's plump gluteal globes were glowing a bright crimson hue while his facial cheeks were a blushing pink from his unrestrained babyish bawling.
Delivering the final dozen smacks of her new son's 'welcome home' spanking, using a 'Mother's Helper' paddle almost identical to Rebecca's, was a woman in the royal blue uniform of a Starfleet Operations officer—Commodore Lavinia Treadwell, Starbase Seventeen's second-in-command. Forty-five years old in her fifth adulthood, the less-than-imposing woman was of average size and rather plain-looking, with mousy-flat brown hair and matching muddy-looking eyes, yet she was known for her total dedication to Starfleet and her iron-willed determination. Once she had resolved to accomplish an objective, be it winning an interstellar battle simulation or turning a boyish penny's naked posterior into twin moons of fiery-hot stinging intensity, Lavinia was reputed to be virtually unstoppable.
When Billy's initial penny punishment was finally concluded, the commodore immediately dragged the blubbering six-year-old into the living room; his briefs slid down to join his shorts in constricting his ankles as he stumblingly was pushed toward Selena by the stern older woman. Carlton observed the filled-in silver "P" on the back of each of the other rejuve's hands, just above the wrist.
"Turn around and bend over, naughty boy, so your Aunt Selena can get a good look at the results of your first-ever bare-bottom paddling." The strict maternal voice brooked no hesitation.
The raggedly-sobbing child reluctantly followed instructions, shuffling over to the beautiful young woman before turning and leaning forward to present his blazing, deeply-crimsoned buttocks for her examination.
"Amazing," Selena commented, truly impressed, "Especially with that light 'Helper' paddle." She paused in thought. "What will that heavy oakwood hairbrush do to Billy's bare buns at bedtime?"
"That depends mostly on you," Lavinia replied pointedly, then she met her young guest's gaze. "Hello there, Carltie."
The five-year-old nodded briefly. "Good afternoon, Commodore Treadwell."
"Actually, according to your guardian you're much more of an expert on woodshed-style discipline than anyone else here—although exclusively from the receiving end." The Starfleet officer pointed at her newly-arrived son's soundly-walloped, glowing-hot bumcheeks, still humiliatingly on open display. "What do you think, has Billy been spanked sufficiently for the moment?"
"Certainly, ma'am." The Medicalos' voice choked suddenly. "Please let him pull up his pants, he's been embarrassed enough."
"I think Carltie's right, Lavie," Selena agreed. "Billy needs some comfort now, to remind him that there's affection and caring behind the chastisements he'll be receiving from us so regularly."
"That's what I get from Mommy and Nannie after I've been punished," Carlton added quickly.
"Out of the mouths of babes...You're both right." Lavinia gently addressed her softly-weeping Penitatas child. "You may restore your modesty, Billy dear—then greet our visitor Carltie, a fellow rejuve who's bravely stuck up for you."
After he'd awkwardly lifted his shorts and briefs to waist level, Billy's teardrop-trickling eyes glistened with gratitude as he faced his youthful benefactor. "Hi, Carltie."
"Hello, Billy." Sighing with relief, Carlton realized that he had just met the second rejuve comrade of his brief new existence...
{THE END}
