"BABYSITTER REDS" ("Maternal Matrimony" #12) by the Crimson Kid F/mm
Part 1 § 2
(All rights reserved. This story's setting begins two hours after the conclusion of "COMRADES-IN-REJUVES", early evening in the McMichael family's Starfleet quarters on Starbase Seventeen, orbiting the planet Vladivost in the mid-28th century.)
"Nannie told me about your kindergarten classmate being that last woman you treated at the mining colony, now rejuved into a little girl," Rebecca informed Carlton, pausing between bites of her perfectly-heated pork-and-tubepod pie. "That must have been quite a shock, sweetie—for both of you."
Carlton nodded, still chewing a mouthful of the supper entre' which combined a Terran-originated meat and a native Vladivostan plant within a cooked crust. Knowing better than to talk while eating, he swallowed rather hurriedly.
"It really was, Mommy." The rejuved five-year-old's eyes twinkled. "She was very happy to meet me, that's for sure."
"Threw herself right into your arms," Nantessa added, grinning teasingly. "Isn't that what you told me, cutie?" Her little brother's facial cheeks pinkened noticeably, much to the pretty teenager's amusement.
"She was just thanking me for what I did on the planet," he responded slightly defensively.
"So what's her name?" asked the admiral, trying to deflect her daughter's affectionate teasing of her blushing young ward.
"Montana," Carlton replied softly, "Montana Starr."
"That's a unique-sounding name," Rebecca remarked cheerily, then she resumed consuming the evening meal—as did her two children, for the moment.
Five minutes later, after the durasteel dishes and utensils had been emptied into the recycle-sanitizer by Nantessa, the admiral instructed her daughter to sit back down. "Let's talk for a few minutes, darling."
"Shouldn't I program for our dessert, Mom?" the thirteen-year-old asked plaintively; she had the proverbial 'sweet tooth.'.
The Starfleet officer shook her head. "Not just yet, Nannie. Right now I'd like to hear about Carltie's other new friend, Billy Treadwell."
The boyish Medicalos quickly swallowed the calciblend he'd been in the process of drinking. "Uhhhh, what about Billy, Mommy?"
"You spent almost two hours with him today, Carltie," his guardian pointed out. "So what did you two do together during that time?"
Carlton shrugged his shoulders. "We talked, mostly—I tried to make him feel better after what had happened to him."
"Miss Lamonica said it was one sizzling-hot 'welcome home' fanny-whacking," Nantessa interjected airily.
Her mother's eyebrows arched. "When did you talk to Miss Lamonica, Nannie?"
"When I went to bring Carltie home for supper," the girl explained innocently. "Just idle conversation, Mom."
"Not just the paddling," the five-year-old elaborated, "But the whole situation of his becoming a Penitatas in the first place—that's what we were discussing."
"According to Lavin—Commodore Treadwell, Billy was convicted of vandalism," Rebecca stated coolly. "He supposedly defaced the headquarters of the Galactic Society of Sappho in Tedder Town."
"Then you gossiped about him too?" Nantessa grinned impishly at her mother.
"It wasn't gossiping, dear girl," the woman countered calmly. "The commodore hasn't raised a child since her second adulthood, about a century ago, so she naturally asked for my advice when she decided to try motherhood again."
"He didn't just deface the building," Carlton remarked quickly, "He wrote some old-style anti-lesbian insults on the windows and door."
"So that's why it was considered a bigotry offense," his guardian concluded, "Which is why he was sentenced to a Penitatas term, specifically with a lesbian couple. Bigotry crimes are taken quite seriously on Vladivost, that's well known." Her expression became puzzled. "But how would a twenty-one-year-old beginning his first adulthood know such ancient pejorative terms?"
"He was a sociology major concentrating in Terran cultural history," the youngster informed the two females. "I think he called it U.K.T.T., his college."
"The University of Kesselring at Tedder Town, which specializes in social sciences." Rebecca nodded pensively. "Where did his prejudiced Neanderthal attitudes come from though? U.K.T.T. is supposedly a very progressive institution, as I understand it."
"Oh, he's not really anti-gay at all, Mommy," Carlton explained. "He was heavily under the influence of intoxical, out with a group of his friends, when they dared him to vandalize that building—it just happened to be the G.S.S. headquarters."
"Then why would he use offensive language about lesbians?" Nantessa demanded, her brow furrowing. "What's a 'bull dyke' anyway, Mom?"
"Never mind, sweetness, just please don't repeat that expression." The admiral shook her head deliberately. "I'll have to have a word with Miss Lamonica about how to talk to children—especially now that she's a parent." She addressed her spousal ward. "That's a valid question however, Carltie...Why did Billy plaster those bigoted words on the G.S.S. headquarters?"
"He told me that he was kind of showing off," the boy responded quietly, "Impressing his friends that he knew those terms, even if they were socially disapproved." He hesitated briefly. "Mostly it was the effects of the intoxical—that's what he figured after he'd been caught and arrested."
Rebecca snorted derisively, aware that there was a male-dominated branch of Traditionalism which included many members who equated consuming large amounts of liquid intoxicants with masculinity and even sexual prowess.
"I'd figure that he comes from a patri-dom Traditionalist family," she commented bluntly, "Probably growing up with an indulgent father and a weak, subservient mother, neither of whom disciplined him much at home."
"Until this afternoon, he'd never been spanked in his life," Carlton stated in confirmation of his guardian's speculations. "His father was a total patri-dom and Billy was the oldest boy in the family—so he got away with a whole lot, he admitted to me."
"If he'd gotten his butt smacked soundly when he misbehaved as a Kindern," mused Nantesa, "He probably wouldn't be a penny now."
"No question about that, Nannie—his parents didn't do him any favors in the long run." The admiral's tone was almost contemptuous. "Patri-doms, such boorish, chauvinistic egotists!" She virtually spat out her condemnation of that large group of fellow Traditionalists.
"I told Billy that Commodore Treadwell is demanding but fair-minded," Carlton continued, "That as a Penitatas he'll be getting plenty of corporal punishment but he won't be treated cruelly by his parents."
"He'll be cared for and loved also," Nantessa noted calmly. "True maternal love includes strict discipline—especially for a hard-time penny."
Rebecca smiled affectionately at her daughter, then focused her gaze on her Medicalos ward.
"Just be aware that Billy does have an undisciplined, self-indulgent background which won't disappear immediately, in spite of his Penitatas regimen." The commanding woman's voice took a firm tone. "Carltie, I want you to assert yourself as Billy's friend so that you're influencing his attitudes and behavior, rather than vice-versa. Am I crystal clear on that expectation, honey?"
The rejuved child nodded solemnly. "I understand, Mommy."
The Starfleet officer playfully ruffled her youngster's soft blond curls. "Then let's have our hot fudge sundaes, shall we?"
After supper, the family members temporarily went their separate ways—Nantessa left for her null-gee powerball team's practice at the sector's community center, Rebecca retired to her bedroom to make several extended holoview calls to other Starfleet officers and Carlton watched a popoular Vladivostan holoshow on the living room's holovision field.
The HV program was a historically-based action drama titled 'The Sands of North Africa,' set in the year 1941 on pre-spaceflight Earth. It featured a dozen major characters, most of them members of the armed forces of various Terran nation-states which were engaged in a conflict between coalitions of powers.
The young rejuve had occasionally watched earlier episodes of the show during his adult existence; he found it interesting and even compelling at times, although his knowledge of the actual conflict was minimal. It was highly realistic in that key characters actually were shown being killed in battle, only to be replaced by new ones in later episodes. The two warring alliances were represented equally in terms of protagonists, but the reasons for their hostility were not revealed through the story line.
Carlton actually found himself slightly more familiar with the program's background as a five-year-old than he had been as an adult, since several of the varied location settings were places also featured in his 'Tobruk Tactical' simulgame. However, he was still unenlightened concerning the strategic importance of controlling a land area that appeared to be mostly an unproductive desert wasteland.
"Maybe there's spice there," his guardian suggested jokingly, making reference to a classic novel that had been required reading in one of their Starfleet Academy literature courses; she'd watched the final ten minutes of the hour-long episode with her spousal ward.
"You're teasing me, Mommy," the little boy replied. "There are no sandworms, so there's no spice—it's set on Earth, a long time ago."
Rebecca chuckled. "You're right, sweetie...But now I have to explain tomorrow's agenda with you, so please listen carefully."
"Yes, ma'am." Using a universal interior control pad, Carlton deactivated the holovision field.
As the admiral explained to her young charge, Commodore Alexandra Malevelle—their space sector's newly-appointed chief of Interior Investigations—had abruptly decided to stop off briefly on Starbase Seventeen while en route to the Starfleet sector headquarters on Posteria Primus. The station's ranking Military Justice officer, Captain Moseley, had decided to arrange an impromptu reception for his new supervisor shortly after her scheduled arrival on the following afternoon (starbase time); naturally, he had asked the station's commander (Rebecca) and her executive officer (Lavinia Treadwell) to attend the reception at six-thirty that evening—they had somewhat reluctantly agreed, on the proviso that Lavinia's mate (Selena Lamonica) also be invited.
However, Nantessa's team had a null-gee powerball match scheduled for seven o'clock the same evening, which meant that a babysitter would be required for both Carlton and Billy—something that both of the female starbase leaders had been attempting to arrange, without notable success on such short notice.
The admiral shared one other piece of information with her husband-turned-ward, a rather salubrious one: She and her daughter had agreed to a reduction of Carlton's scheduled spankings, down to three apiece per week—Rebecca's on Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings, Nantessa's on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday mornings. Since his big sister was allowed to give him two of the paddling-free lumnicards each week, the young rejuve could end up receiving only a single sibling-administered fanny-tanning, the Sunday morning one, in any given week—provided he stayed on the 'good side' of the pretty teenager.
"But I made Nannie promise to really wallop your bare behind—absolutely no love-pats or half-hearted efforts—every Sunday morning, sweetie, using her 'Seat-Sizzler' paddle for at least part of your chastisement." Rebecca grinned smugly. "It does a little boy a world of good to be sitting on a tender, warmly-tingling tushie during church service; it helps him feel truly repentant, I believe."
Carlton flashed his own grin, a rueful one. "I can't dispute that, ma'am."
Laughing lightly, his loving guardian reached down to gentlly tousle his curly hair. "But since today's Tuesday, darling, you won't have any bottom-warming activities scheduled for your bedtime tonight."
"Thank you, Mommy," the boyish rejuve said sincerely, "For being so generous and understanding toward me." He paused in thought, then shivered slightly.
"What's the matter, honey?" The admiral's voice reflected puzzled concern.
"Oh, I was thinking about Billy," the young Medicalos explained. "Miss Lamonica's going to engage in plenty of bottom-warming activity, at his butt-naked expense, tonight at his bedtime."
"Well, Carltie, he's a lawbreaker and he's being punished for his criminal behavior." Rebecca's tone became somber. "It's normal for you to empathize with Billy, but don't forget that he'll be receiving deserved societal retribution from his parents."
The five-year-old nodded. "I know that, Mommy."
At school the following day, Carlton told his new friend Montana about Billy and his background.
"Sorry, Carltie, but I don't feel much sympathy for him if he's a patri-dom male, not after my adult experiences with those obnoxious sexist fatheads." His kindergarten classmate sniffed condescendingly. "A few years of being a little boy and having his nude rump repeatedly blistered by two women, I'd figure that's exactly what he needs to learn some respect for females."
Remembering a few encounters he'd had with patri-dom types himself, the boyish rejuve couldn't help agreeing somewhat. "I see your point, Mon."
"Just be careful that this guy doesn't lead you into trouble," Montana pointedly cautioned her fellow Medicalos, "Since he probably doesn't have much self-discipline himself."
That evening Nantessa left at six-thirty for her powerball match, after her mother and brother had both wished her good luck and success in the hard-hitting competition.
A few minutes later, Lavinia and Selena arrived at the admiral's quarters with their spanking-new Penitatas son, whom they introduced to Rebecca after stepping inside.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Billy," she told the sullen-seeming six-year-old, "After hearing quite a bit about you from both your mother and my own rejuved boy, your friend Carltie."
"Say hello to the admiral, Billy," Selena instructed the youngster.
"Hello, admiral." Billy's tone was only marginally respectful; he'd been brought up to believe that women didn't belong in positions of authority, so he resented the high rank of his new mother and even moreso that of her Starfleet superior.
Carlton entered the living room just then, regarding the two female visitors in their dress uniforms—Lavinia's was the same royal blue color as her regular-duty uniform while Selena's, not totally military-looking, was light green with forest green trim.
"Hello there, Carltie," Lavinia greeted him briskly.
"Good evening, commodore—and Miss Lamonica...You're both very attractive in those outfits." He glanced at his guardian, who wore a bronze-trimmed dress uniform like the commodore's and looked stunningly impressive in it. "Of course, nobody's as beautiful as my mother is tonight."
Rebecca beamed at her ward. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Selena chuckled. "Carltie knows which side his bread is buttered on, doesn't he?"
At that moment a pretty, athletic blonde woman attired in spa-type workout clothing, still perspiring lightly from physical exertion and carrying a gym bag, appeared in the still-open doorway.
"Sorry I'm a little late, admiral," Yolanda Lansford apologized, "I got over here as soon as my close-combat sesssion ended."
"No problem, lieutenant," the admiral replied, "I'm just glad you agreed to babysit on such short notice." She smiled gratefully. "Carltie's friend Billy is already here, and we've got to get going now."
"My thanks too, lieutenant," Lavinia added, "And congratulations on your promotion to jay-gee...This is my partner, Selena Lamonica." The two young women nodded at one another agreeably.
Rebecca faced the two rejuves. "Stay out of trouble and be sure to obey Miss Yolanda, children. Billy, your Aunt Selena will be leaving the reception early to pick you up here around eight o'clock." She maternally ruffled Carlton's blond curls. "Miss Yolanda will be taking a quick shower in my bathroom, so you'll be unsupervised for about ten minutes...Can you handle that, honey?"
"Sure thing, Mommy," Carlton answered sincerely, "We'll be good boys."
"We're all counting on that," the admiral noted calmly. "Let's depart then, ladies."
After the three women had departed and Yolanda had activated the doorway-closing control after them, the junior officer turned to her two young charges.
"Can you boys wait quietly for me to shower up and change?" she demanded rhetorically, gracefully lifting her gym bag.
"Yes, ma'am," Carlton affirmed.
"Sure, Yolanda," Billy agreed slyly, "Go right ahead."
"Please address me as 'Miss Yolanda,' Billy," the blonde instructed smoothly. "Okay, I'll be back shortly then. Where is the admiral's bathroom, Carltie?"
The five-year-old pointed toward his guardian's bedroom door down the hallway. "It's just off her room, right in there."
Once the door slid shut behind their babysitter, Billy's face seemed to light up devilishly.
"Let's play a game of 'babysitter blues,' like my brothers and I used to when we were kids," he suggested eagerly.
"What's that?" his young host asked uncertainly.
"Pranks that harass and embarrass the babysitter," the six-year-old rejoined, "To see if we can break her down." He giggled. "Sometimes we'd have our babysitter in tears, if she was even weaker than most women."
Carlton was surprised and resistant. "Miss Yolanda's not weak at all, she's a Starfleet officer," he countered quickly. "If we deliberately do something to annoy her, she'll paddle our bare behinds—then we'll be the ones in tears, not her."
"Don't be such a candyass," Billy chided his comrade contemptuously. "Besides, we'll tell her that it was just a big joke—that's what I always told my parents if the babysitter complained about our tricks."
"You weren't disciplined for misbehaving?" the Medicalos demanded uncertainly.
"My mother would claim that we should be punished, but my dad would just tell her that 'Boys will be boys,' and that it was the sitter's problem if she couldn't handle a harmless prank or two." The Penitatas grinned in remembrance. "It shouldn't be any different now."
"It's completely different, Billy," Carlton protested sharply. "Miss Yolanda's too smart and self-confident to put up with any mischief from us, and we're not dealing with your overindulgent father either. Our mothers will simply say 'Boys will be spanked,' then that's exactly what they'll do to us—so we'll each end up getting our bare butts walloped twice, first by Miss Yolanda and then by our moms...Thanks, but no thanks."
"Damn, you're a pessimistic wimp," Billy complained curtly. "What if we do something that we won't get caught at—then we won't be punished, will we?"
"What do you mean?" his rejuve comrade asked warily.
"This is a command-level officer's quarters, so just like my new place it has a built-in surveillence system.'" The young guest grinned wolfishly. "Can you still activate it with the codeword and your thumbprint?"
"Only in an emergency, like a suspected break-in threat," Carlton stated. "We've never had to use the system, actually."
"But you can access the HV recorders, right—let's say activate a particular room's HV camera and have its images shown on the holovision field in here, even have them recorded on a playback disc?" Billy sounded enthusiastic as he withdrew the all-purpose interior pad from its coffee table sealpocket and handed it to his young host. "Access it, Carltie—let's have some fun."
"What kind of fun?" the kindergartener inquired suspiciously.
"Do it and I'll show you," his penny visitor responded. "Come on, we're just playing a harmless trick. Even if we do get caught, that babysitter's just a pushover of a woman anyway—we can handle her."
"Like you handled the commodore and her paddle yesterday?" Carlton asked wryly. "Miss Yolanda's a Starfleet officer, so she's no pushover."
"Just do it, Carltie." The six-year-old boldly faced his fellow rejuve, their gazes meeting. "All that stuff you said yesterday about friendship and supporting each other, let's see if you back it up now...So are you with me?"
The young Medicalos chewed his lip uncertainly, then he grudgingly inputted his thumbprint and the clearance code onto the control pad. "I'm still not certain about this, Billy..."
"Trust me, you'll enjoy this." Billy took the pad from his hesitant host, then began locating and activating the surveillence program that he'd chosen to transmit to the expansive holovision field.
Suddenly the three-dimensional viewing space sparkled to life in front of the boys, projecting an overhead view of a spacious bathroom; within its bathing area was the clear image of a naked young woman, a wholesomely pretty blonde, in the process of rinsing off her freshly-cleansed body under a spray of crisply-flowing shower water.
"Miss Yolanda!" Carlton stood breathless with shock. "No, Billy—this is wrong."
"Relax, Carltie, it's just a typical 'babysitter blues' prank," the less-than-penitent Penitatas chortled. "Besides, no one will ever have to—"
Abruptly an earsplitting alarm began to blare intermittently from the holovision field, which flashed bright red bursts of illumination perfectly synchronized with the gratingly-loud blasts of sound.
The five-year-old shuddered helplessly, muttering to himself. "We're busted..."
{PART TWO}
"What's that?" Billy looked frozen with panic, staring at the brilliantly scarlet-pulsing HV image, which showed Yolanda hurriedly shutting off the shower's spray, then stepping out and jerking Rebecca's bathrobe off a door peg.
"It's a security alarm, obviously," Carlton responded limply. "Switch the field to call response, Billy."
"Ruh-Right, sure thing." The badly-rattled penny fumbled with the interior pad's setting controls, then the jarringly-loud noise suddenly ceased while the bathroom holoimage was abruptly replaced by a steady, unflashing one of a crimson-uniformed Starfleet security guard—Petty Officer Norwood, the slightly-undersized crewman that the McMichael family had encountered earlier, seated behind a monitoring console.
"Is there an adult in charge there for me to speak to, boys?" Norwood inquired of the two nervously-quivering rejuves over the holoconnection.
"Yes, right here," announced Yolanda, rushing into the living room with the admiral's bathrobe clutched around her still-dripping body. "I'm Lieutenant Junior Grade Lansford, babysitting these children tonight . What's the emergency, Petty Officer...?"
"Norwood, ma'am," the NCO replied quickly. "One of the surveillence holocameras was activated in the admiral's quarters, lieutenant, which automatically resulted in an immediate feed to a holovision monitor here at starbase Security Central."
"I see." Yolanda fixed Carlton with a penetrating, blood-chilling stare. "So which room was put under HV surveillence, crewman?"
"It was the master bathroom, the one that you were...bathing in, ma'am." Norwood's voice reflected the discomfort he felt over that revelation. "That image was also being projected onto the living room holovision field. I'm sorry about this, lieutenant..."
"Not nearly as sorry as someone else is going to be," Yolanda countered, her eyes shining with angry intensity. "Thank you for contacting me, Norwood. Please deactivate the bathroom holocamera; I'll handle the situation at this end now."
"Acknowledged, ma'am." Within the holoimage the security guard reached forward to access a control panel on his monitor, then the holovision field blanked out in front of its three viewers.
As the fuming young woman turned to face the two extremely anxious boyish rejuves, Carlton couldn't help appreciating how attractive she seemed to him at that moment—hair glistening wet and disheveled, soft terryblend bathrobe clinging to the curves of her damp body, eyes flashing righteous fury and facial features set grimly like an avenging angel's, Yolanda looked bewitchingly beautiful.
The looming awareness that the blonde junior officer was undoubtedly about to pronounce punitive sentence on Billy and himself, and then promptly execute it on their deserving naked posteriors, somehow made his babysitter even more alluring to the breathlessly apprehensive five-year-old. (It was hardly a novel phenomenon—his adult self had felt it numerous times when facing strict chastisement from Rebecca.)
"Do either of you depraved 'peeping toms' have anything to say regarding your inexcusable behavior?" the lieutenant demanded of her two hapless charges, favoring them with a thin, forboding smile.
Carlton gulped and blinked before answering.
"No, ma'am," he stated softly, "Except that I'm very sorry that I was so untrustworthy. I know that I'll be punished for my shameful misconduct, and I fully deserve whatever discipline you decide to administer, Miss Yolanda."
"Well, I won't dispute any of that," Yolanda agreed curtly. She turned her intense gaze upon Billy. "What about you, young man—do you have something to tell me?"
After casting a furtive, baleful look at his rejuve compatriot, the six-year-old blustered an explanation.
"It was just a joke, that's all. We were playing a little prank on you, it was kind of a tradition in my family when I was growing up—as a Kindern, I mean." He paused, aware that Yolanda's determined expression was unchanged. "It's a teasing type of game, we called it 'babysitter blues,' that's what my brothers and I did..."
"Looked at nude holoviews of your babysitters?" Yolanda inquired pointedly.
"Not exactly, this is the first time for that, but just playful embarrassing tricks on the girls who babysat us." Billy's voice reflected a conmingling of apprehension and exasperation—his words weren't having their desired effect, not at all, judging by his lovely listener's hard-edged facial features.
"So how did your babysitters react to all this supposedly good-natured teasing, Billy?" The young woman's eyebrows arched skeptically.
The penny nervously cleared his dry throat before answering.
"Uhhhh...Pretty well, mostly...Some of them might have been upset to start with, but then I'd explain that we were just joking around. A babysitter would understand about a harmless prank if she had a sense of humor."
"All right, I believe I understand now. Thank you, Billy, for clarifying this situation for me." The anxious Penitatas exhaled in hopeful relief, while the Starfleet officer directed her truth-seeking gaze at Carlton.
"Carltie, can you confirm your friend's interpretation of your motivation for me," she asked sharply, "Do you consider your blatant voyeurism to be merely a playful prank by you two?"
The Medicalos youngster's lips quivered as he struggled to formulate a response, then he sadly shook his head.
"No, Miss Yolanda," he told her, his eyes brimming with teardrops, "Not at all. It was a disrespectful invasion of your privacy, we misbehaved totally in doing it and I'm the one who activated the surveillence system." His voice choked briefly. "I'm very sorry, but I expect to be even sorrier during my chastisement by you, ma'am."
The young lieutenant managed to maintain a stern-faced appearance, but inwardly she experienced a surge of pride in her former commander's childlike truthfulness under duress.
"Not to mention how the admiral will react to this malicious mischief," she added coolly. "Once again I don't disagree with anything you've said, dear boy—some immediate and strenuous discipline is clearly in order now, there's no doubt about that."
"Please, Miss Yolanda," Billy pleaded desperately, "It was only a game we were playing, just a little teasing fun at your expense."
"So you say," Yolanda stated tersely, "But I'm hardly convinced." She grinned in a predatory manner. "However, let's asssume for argument's sake that it was indeed just a little good-natured 'babysitter blues' trickery, as opposed to mean-spirited conduct on your part. In that case, I'm now going to engage in a game of 'babysitter reds' with you two playful boys."
The six-year-old shook his head in confusion. "I've never heard of that game..."
"Let me enlighten you then," the attractive blonde offered, flashing a chilling smile. "You mischeivous children tried to make me turn blue, in an emotional sense, so now I'm going to make a certain part of each of your anatomies turn red, but in a physical sense." She paused briefly. "Do you understand the game now, my naughty little boys?"
"Yes, ma'am," Carlton acknowledged ruefully. "I take it that we'll be on the receiving side, so to speak, and that it'll be a hard-hitting encounter."
"Those are both safe assumptions," the babysitter agreed. "I'm going back into the bathroom to finish drying off and then get dressed for the upcoming punitive activities, after which I'll procure the...playing equipment, let's say...that I'll be using during our extended 'babysitter reds' engagement."
"Playing equipment?" Billy was wide-eyed with dawning dire comprehension .
"Don't concern yourself, Billy dear, I'll handle that myself." Yolanda smirked slightly. "I'm pretty sure you've already got the only equipment you'll need in order to play, which would be a pair of rounded, fleshy hemispheres on the back of your body, between your waist and thighs." She continued, speaking commandingly. "I'll know for certain as soon as I return here, because you're both going to strip to the buff then separately face into one of this room's corners—I want to see each of you with his hands held together behind his back and his nubbin of a nose touching where two walls intersect, which will leave his...playing equipment...quite openly displayed." Her eyes studied the two rejuves intently. "Is there any problem with my instructions?"
The five-year-old sighed resignedly. "No, Miss Yolanda—we understand and we'll obey."
"You expect us to strip down completely?" his six-year-old partner in mischief inquired incredulously.
Yolanda's eyes flashed warningly as she regarded the disbelieving penny. "That's exactly what had better happen, young man; you'll be taking your clothes off while I'm putting mine on—which adds a mirror symmetry to our game preparations, doesn't it? You children didn't mind dishonestly taking a good look at my nude body, so I'm planning to return the favor—just for starters, of course." She chuckled devilishly. "Besides, a receiving player's preferred outfit in a game of 'babysitter reds' is always his birthday suit."
Her tone became serious again. "When I get back here in a few minutes, you'd both better be bare-ass naked and standing quietly in proper position. If you're not all of those things—totally nude, completely quiet and positioned as directed—you'll get twenty licks with my leather belt added onto the punishment you've already got coming to you." The blonde babysitter looked down upon her nervously-quivering childish charges. "I'm sure you're clear on what I'm requiring of you, my darling boys—I'd suggest that you move rather quickly, starting right now."
She turned and strode into the hallway, then disappeared into the admiral's bedroom as the door slid shut behind her.
Billy, his eyes reflecting a hopeless desire to flee, rounded on his fellow rejuve.
"Why the hell didn't you back me up when I tried to convince her that it was just a harmless prank?" he demanded sullenly. "We might have gotten away with just a warning, like my brothers and I always did."
"You had way too many warnings and not nearly enough direct discipline as a Kindern," Carlton countered pointedly, pulling his shirt loose from the waistband of his shorts. "Let's face it, we're going to get our butts blistered royally and we both deserve it." He pulled the turquoise-trimmed mustard yellow t-shirt over his head, leaving his torso bare, and tossed it onto a hovering magnachair.
"Exactly what are you doing?" the Penitatas asked sharply.
Carlton stepped backward and sat down on the old-fashioned, Terran-style couch, then leaned forward and began removing his jet black insulfit shoes.
"Can't you guess, Billy? What did Miss Yolanda tell us to do by the time she gets back here?" He shook his head in mock condescension as he finished baring his slightly stubby feet.
"You're not going to undress just because that pushy woman said to, are you?" Billy's tone was one of astonished disbelief. "She's just a babysitter, she can't really mean to order us around and..." His voice trailed off.
"Spank us." The Medicalos concluded the sentence briskly, setting his shoes on the floor. "I wish I'd never accessed the surviellence system for you, it was against my better judgement, but it's too late for that now. All we can do is cooperate completely with Miss Yolanda, so we don't earn any extra walloping—what she'll give us anyway will be plenty long and hard enough as it is."
"Why isn't there a man around here, to set that overgrown girl straight about trying to discipline us boys just for playing a little trick on her?" The haplesss penny seethed with a mixture of fear and frustration.
"You'd better get used to dealing with women and accepting their authority over you, Billy." Standing back up, Carlton reluctantly hooked a thumb under the elastiflex waistband of his turquoise shorts, one above each hip. "That arrogant patri-dom stuff you grew up with won't work for you anymore, not while you're a Penitatas with two female parents." He lowered his play shorts, which included built-in briefs, to below knee level and let them drop to puddle around his ankles. "I'd think that the commodore's paddle and Miss Lamonica's hairbrush would've already taught you that lesson by now." After stepping out of his shorts a foot at a time, the nude five-year-old scooped them up and chucked them atop his t-shirt on the floating chair.
The boyishly-handsome blond flashed his fellow rejuve a grim smile. "It's cornertime for me now, until we start the 'babysitter reds' game. If I were you, I'd get those clothes off at top speed—Miss Yolanda should be arriving back any minute."
He marched over to the nearest corner of the room and edged his small bare body into it, then leaned forward enough to touch the tip of his nose against the two walls' point of intersection while he clasped his hands in the small of his back—a stance that pushed his plump white posterior prominently backward.
Grudgingly beginning to undress, Billy snorted derisively at the sight of his pitifully humbled host. "Boy, do you look ridiculous standing like that."
Carlton sniffled haltingly. "Uhhh, I knuh-know...This embuh-barrassing p-position is...well, I'd say it's..."
"Part of your chastisement, little boy," Yolanda stated camly, from the vantage point in the hallway that she'd entered stealthily. Five seconds later she emerged into the living room, attired in baby blue duradenim jeans (encircled at the waist by a wide tan belt), a bright pink short-sleeved blouse and matching-colored strideslippers; her right hand, inside a thin leather spanking glove, gripped Rebecca's light wooden 'Mother's Helper' paddle while her uncovered left hand lightly swung the thick black leather paddle as she walked.
She glanced at Billy, who was still fully dressed except for his shoes, and then at stark-naked Carlton, who was facing bent forward into the corner. "I see that you're neither undressed nor in your assigned location, Billy," the young woman noted clinically. "On the other hand, Carltie, you're exactly where you're supposed to be in a suitable state of total nudity—but you were talking, weren't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," the five-year-old admitted.
"That's too bad," the pretty lieutenant clucked in mock pity, "Because I'm afraid you've each earned yourself twenty leathering lashes with my belt for being disobedient—you'll get them at the end of your disciplinary sesssion, after your regular punishment." She slapped the leather paddle smartly against her duradenim-covered left thigh, causing both boys to flinch anxiously. "Ouch, that stings! Billy, you have one minute to get yourself bareass naked and into the corner, or I'm adding another twenty licks to your total. Carltie, you have a cute little caboose—I like the way your position forces it to stick out, almost begging for attention."
"Th-Thank you, mah-ma'am," the nude youngster stammered, "Ah-I think..."
"So let's give your chubby bare bottom some attention, dear boy." Setting the two paddles on the coffee table, Yolanda seated herself on the center of the plush old-fashioned couch and picked up a narrow decorative pillow, placing it on her right thigh. "Come here and get into position across my lap, with this pillow under your hips." She patted the soft, almost cylindrical cushion with her gloved hand.
"Yes, Miss Yolanda." Already sobbing quietly as he walked over to her, Carlton followed his womanly disciplinarian's directions and placed himself bottomside up over her thighs, with the makeshift bolster beneath his abdomen giving his vulnerably-exposed buttocks additional elevation.
The determined blonde pressed her left forearm across the helpless child's lower back, pinning him down. "Your guardian was right, Carltie—the round cushion allows me more open access to your bouncy bumcheeks this way. I'm going to give you twenty good handspanks, which will be intensified by the spanking glove I'm wearing, followed by forty hard swats with the 'Mother's Helper' paddle, for your participation in such disgraceful misconduct." She addressed Billy, who had managed to strip completely and face into a corner barely in time. "You're next, Billy. Right now you're to be quiet and refrain from moving , unless you want me to total up another twenty penalty strokes with my belt."
"Ready, naughty child?" Straightening her back and tightening her grip on Carlton's jacknifed body, the lieutenant raised her leather-gloved right hand high over the trembling rejuve's defenseless derriere.
"Yes, ma'am." He inhaled and involuntarily tightened his buttcheeks, but his pretty punisher waited for the boyish gluteal muscles to relax before striking swiftly.
SLAP!! SPLAT!! SMACK!! SPLAT!! WHAP!! SLAP!!
Yolanda delivered the leather-enhanced handspanks with rapid, brisk precision, alternating between her young spankee's bare nether cheeks and focusing on his wide-open 'spank spot' just above the thighs. The five-year-old, already sniffling with guilty regret before the chastisement started, broke into outright weeping after only a half-dozen crisp rump-smacking applications of his babysitter's gloved feminine palm. After twenty quick, smarting handswats, the young woman momentarily stopped the bottom-warming procedures.
"That was only the warmup," she notified the gently-crying child as she leaned forward to pick up the thin-but-effective wooden 'Helper' paddle from the coffee table. "This glove gives me a nice tight grip, so I'll keep it on during your paddling, Carltie." Straightening back up, she lightly patted the paddle's smooth striking surface against her discipline recipient's starkly-upturned well-pinkened buttocks. "Your bumcheeks are a nice blushing pink, darling, but my objective in our little game is to turn them bright red, obviously." The junior officer raised the paddle high, gripping its handle in her gloved hand. "Ready for the 'Mother's Helper' now, dear boy?"
"Yuh-uh-Yes, Mi-Miss Y-Yolanda," Carlton stammered, managing to resist the impulse to clench his exposed assscheeks.
SMACK!! CRACK!! WHACK!! SMACK!! SPLAT!! WHAP!! CRACK!! SMACK!!
Yolanda walloped her spankee's naked posterior with emphatic strokes of the wooden paddle, holding him in position easily in spite his squirming, kicking and bouncing while upended across her lap. He broke into tears immediately, at the first impact of the paddle against his bare behind, and blubbered helplesssly during almost the entire forty-swat punishment. The attractive chastiser whacked her young charge's plump posterior deliberately but extremely forcefully, once again concentrating her disciplinary attentions on the 'spank spot' at the base of his smartly-stinging seat. By the time she finally ceased swinging the paddle, Carlton was bawling shamelesssly and his blazing bumcheeks were glowing a brilliant cherry red.
After giving the five-year-old two minutes to try to regain some composure as he lay sobbing across her lap, the lieutenant gently pulled him to his feet. Turning him to face her, she sweetly kissed each of his tearstreaked, flushed facial cheeks then touseled his sweat-soaked curly hair with her left hand.
"Okay, sweetheart, back to your corner now with your reddened rear end on display for me." She chuckled. "It looks like I've won this first round of our 'babysitter reds' competition, judging from the crimson color of your bumcheeks."
"Yes, ma'am." As he returned to his chosen corner, Carlton fervently hoped that his first game of 'babysitter reds' would also be his last.
"Okay, Billy, it's your turn." The feminine voice projected a no-nonsense timbre. "I'd strongly suggest that you follow Carltie's example and get your butt-naked self bent over my lap immediately—without any arguing or whining either, if you know what's good for you. I spanked your rejuve buddy quite thoroughly, young man, but I can be even more thorough if I choose to be."
"But I still don't see why—" As he turned around to leave the corner, the young penny's sulky gaze fell on his disciplinarian's uncompromising expression, causing him to abort his protest. "Never mind, it's pointless; I just wish my father were here, he'd set things straight."
"That's my responsibility at the moment, and your current parents' role later tonight." Setting the 'Helper' paddle back on the table, Yolanda impatiently patted the small pillow on her thigh. "Now get into position so I can do just that, set things straight for you."
Showing extreme hesitation, Billy slowly approached the young Starfleet officer. When he finally came within her arm's reach, she impatiently grasped his torso and forcibly plopped the nude youngster across her well-toned thighs, with the couch cushion elevating his defenseless derriere to provide an optimal target for corporal correction.
"Hey, you don't need to lift me like that!" he sputtered futilely.
Ignoring the outburst, Yolanda encircled the six-year-old's waist with her left arm while raising her leather-covered right hand high above his quivering bare buttcheeks.
"Here's what I need to do, dear boy!" Her gloved hand swung rapidly downward, and with a resounding SPLAT!! the Penitatas began experiencing his first-ever babysitter-applied bottom-warming.
Billy was chastised with the same resolve and forcefulness that Carlton had been, with much the same reaction as twenty leather-augmented handspanks followed by forty paddleswats left him frantically squirming, kicking, weeping and wailing. His upthrust exposed asscheeks, their tender 'sit spot' repeatedly smacked with stinging intensity, ended up coloring nicely to a brightly-shining rosy red before the naked child's punishment finally concluded.
"Back to your corner, darling," Yolanda instructed as she pulled the bawling boy to his feet. "In a couple minutes, I have something to discuss with both of you misbehaving children about the final part of 'babysitter reds.' Right now it looks like I've clearly won the second round too—your bumcheeks are almost as crimson as Carltie's were right after his spanking, even though you're darker-complected than him."
Three minutes after the new penny had blubberingly returned to his nose-into-the-corner position, his kindergartener comrade already in a different corner, their babysitter authoritatively addressed both of them.
"Turn around and face me, my little mischief makers, we have to determine which of you bears primary responsibility for your shameful voyeurism this evening." She was standing halfway between their two corners, about five yards from the wall, holding the black leather paddle in her black-gloved right hand while flicking it's firm-yet-flexible striking surface against her left palm.
Billy'e eyes widened in desperate disbelief. "Don't tell me we're going to get it with that leather paddle..."
"Well, whichever one of you deserves it will—sixty swats across my lap for the person I hold primarily accountable for your outrageous misconduct tonight." The babysitter smiled thinly at the six-year-old. "At first glance that would be you, Billy, since I'm almost positive that you pressured Carltie into going along with your 'peeping tom' idea—I don't believe that he'd have even thought of it on his own."
The young penny began trembling. "No, I didn't—"
"However," the blonde continued, cutting off Billy's argument, "I was taught in Starfleet that the ranking officer, the one in authority, is always held primarily responsible for whatever occurs under his command—I learned that from my commander, Doctor Carlton Kristain."
Her gaze shifted to focus on Carlton. "Carltie, you're the host to Billy here and only you could have accessed the security surveillence system, as you've admitted. It was probably Billy's idea to spy on me showering using the HV camera, but you controlled whether or not it actually occurred—thus you had the authority to prevent it. Based on that control and how you improperly exercised it, dear boy, I'm assigning you the accountability for that shameful misbehavior—and the additional discipline due in response to it."
"But I didn't know..." Abruptly, Carlton stopped his protest. "I should have figured it out, though." His cornflower-blue eyes met the gaze of his one-time subordinate. "You're correct, ma'am. I'm ready to accept the punishment that I fully deserve."
Given that it was made by a totally naked five-year-old with a tearstained face and a bright red, stinging-hot bottom, the statement emanated with surprising dignity. Inwardly, Yolanda was suffused with pride in the young rejuve's personal integrity.
"Billy, turn back into your corner and keep your nose there," she directed the perspiring penny. Shivering with relief, he obeyed instantly. "Carltie, let's go over to the couch for your extended session with this leather spanker." Waving the fearsome-looking paddle, the lovely lieutenant motioned him forward.
So Carlton went back over his feminine disciplinarian's lap, with the cushion under his hips again elevating his chubby bare behind to create an ideal spanking target, and quickly found himself kicking, squirming, howling and bawling as five dozen fiery-hot, blistering whacks of the leather paddle were laid across his bouncing bumcheeks with extremely forceful accuracy. Yolanda walloped his naked posterior steadily but unhurriedly, swinging the licking leather with firm resolve as her spankee's plump rump changed in hue from cherry red to a deeply-glowing dark crimson, with two ovals of maroon at the base of his buttocks. With the sixtieth pistol-shot paddleswat's cracking against her nude charge's sizzling, intensely-stinging derriere, the Starfleet officer completed the chastisement and breathed a sigh of satisfaction.
"Back to your corner for five minutes, sweetheart" she ordered the wailing child while steadying him as he struggled to his feet. "Maintain position with your soundly-spanked scarlet bottom sticking out—no rubbing, I want you to feel the burn down there. After the cornertime for you losing players, we'll finish up our 'babysitter reds' activities for the evening."
"Aren't we finished?" Billy asked uncertainly.
"Not quite," the young woman rejoined, "Since each of you earned twenty licks from my belt for being disobedient—those still have to be applied to your naughty naked fannies."
After five dread-filled minutes, the two boys heard the sound of a thick, pliable leather belt being swiftly pulled through the belt loops of a pair of retro-style bluejeans.
"It's time, children," Yolanda announced, sending shivers up both boyish spines. Walking over to Billy's corner, she wrapped the buckle end of the belt around her palm until only twenty inches of its length wasn't gripped in her tightly-fisted right hand. "Take two steps back then bend way over, hands holding your ankles," she instructed the nervously-twitching Penitatas.
Billy slowly obeyed his relentless punisher's commands, which left his already-reddened rump projecting starkly backward.
"Good target—stay that way, young man." Moving to her young victim's left side, the lieutenant drew back the length of flexible leather as she adjusted her wide-legged stance for a full arm's-length swing. "This is your payment for failure to obey me."
THWACK!! CRACK!! WHACK!! THWAP!! CRACK!! THWACK!!
The twenty cracks of the snapping leather were delivered rapidly across the lower swells of the naked six-year-old's backthrust gluteal globes, quickly reducing him to tearful howls as bands of scarlet crisscrossed his 'sit spot' while he continually but futilely shifted his hips. He desperately managed to retain position throughout the quickly-completed butt-blistering, which took all of the childlike will power he possessed.
"Corner position again," Yolanda commanded, "While I deal with Carltie."
Ten seconds later, Carlton found himself in the same highly-vulnerable, bent-over position that his rejuve compatriot had just been forced to asssume. Taking her full-swing stance to his left and spreading her feet apart, his strict chastiser addressed the Medicalos sternly. "Here's your penalty for disobedience, dear boy."
Then the five-year-old was thoroughly, expertly leathered upon his outjutting exposed asscheeks, just as his comrade had been, leaving him blubbering helplessly as his teardrops splashed onto the thickly-carpeted floor. His sensitive undercheeks were walloped repeatedly with swift, whipcracking strokes of the pliable belt so that the resulting stinging stripes overlapped and merged across his blazing-hot 'spank spot' until the full score of fiery licks had been administered.
Finally the evening's fanny-tanning disciplinary activities were concluded, leaving the pretty babysitter with two sobbing, highly-repentant boyish rejuves, both still in their birthday suits and sporting brightly-glowing, flaming crimson bumcheeks.
"It looks like I won all five rounds of our 'babysitter reds' competition," Yolanda noted cheerily, regarding her soundly-spanked young charges as they stood sniffling in their separate corners, noses against the wall and smartly-chastised bottoms pushed outward in her direction.
She chuckled lightly. "I'm betting you naughty children won't want a rematch, either..."
{THE END}
