"AFTERMATH" ("Maternal Matrimony" #13) by the Crimson Kid F/m
(All rights reserved. This story's setting begins five minutes after the conclusion of "BABYSITTER REDS", mid-evening in the McMichael family's Starfleet quarters on Starbase Seventeen, orbiting the planet Vladivost in the mid-28th century.)
Yolanda's voice carried a touch of compassion as she addressed the two stark-naked boyish rejuves standing in adjacent corners of the living room in Admiral McMichael's starbase quarters. Her sympathy wasn't based on their total nudity in front of her, nor on the rather humiliating stance each youngster was struggling to maintain—leaning forward from the waist, hands clasped together behind him, nose touching the intersecting walls, exposed posterior pushed backward toward her as she stood in the room's center—but rather on the state of their openly-displayed bottoms.
Billy's well-punished chubby buns were a softly-glowing rosy red in color, reflecting the strict disciplinary attentions that the Starfleet lieutenant had recently visited upon them. Carlton, being fairer-complected and having been chastised more extensively, showed soundly-smacked plump bumcheeks which radiated a deeply-glowing dark crimson hue.
"All right, my mischief makers," the pretty babysitter announced, "I suppose it's time to end your confinement, even though I'm enjoying the sight you little boys make as you 'stand corrected,' so to speak. It's obvious that I dominated our 'babysitter reds' contest, based on the bright color of the two flaming-hot fannies I'm viewing."
She grinned at each child's obvious embarrasssment. "Okay, we have one last thing to do—store the playing equipment back where it belongs. Billy, you take the 'Mother's Helper' paddle; Carltie, you carry the leather spanker. Please pick them up from the table now, children."
"Yes, ma'am." Carlton quickly followed directions, walking over to grasp the wickedly-effective flexible instrument of correction by its handle. Billy moved more slowly, sullenly looking downward, taking his time before retrieving the light wooden 'Helper' implement.
"There's no point in pouting, Billy," Yolanda admonished calmly. "Follow me and treat those paddles respectfully—remember that they'll always represent retribution upon your deserving bare derrieres when wielded by a righteous female."
"That would be impossible to forget at the moment, Miss Yolanda," the five-year-old stated with a wry half-smile.
The attractive blonde giggled lightly. "Given the way your rear end must sting right now, I'd have to agree with you."
The two young rejuves followed their babysitter into the master bedroom (effectively Rebecca's bedroom) and watched as she activated an interior control pad, resulting in a waist-level storage drawer sliding open from the wall beside the king-sized bed.
Carlton gasped sharply as his guardian's extensive collection of disciplinary implements came into view; he couldn't avoid reacting emotionally upon seeing the varied instruments of corporal punishment destined for eventual application to his naked buttocks. The blond rejuve's overriding awareness of how intensely his recently-walloped behind was smarting at that moment clearly aggravated his feeling of eventual doom.
"Worried, Carltie dear?" The young woman clucked teasingly, but her underlying attitude seemed genuinely regretful. "I can hardly blame you for that, considering that the admiral will undoubtedly be accessing this drawer later tonight, once she hears about your voyeuristic misadventure and its corrective consequences." Peeling off the black leather spanking glove she'd been wearing on her right hand, she placed it into the storage area then motioned toward the drawer. "Put the paddles away now, darlings."
The boys did as directed, feeling a combination of relief and humiliation in returning the chastising tools that had been used to redden their rumps so thoroughly.
"Good riddance," Billy sneered.
"Your mother has a 'Helper' paddle too," his fellow rejuve pointed out, "Which you'll probably be feeling extensively in the near future."
"I'd guess Billy will be getting warmly reacquainted with that hairbrush of Miss Lamonica's first though," Yolanda surmised brightly, "Since she'll be picking him up from here." She reactivated the control pad and the wall compartment slid shut again.
"I don't see why you're going to tell our parents," the frustrated penny complained, "Since you've already paddled us yourself—that should be punishment enough."
His Medicalos comrade sighed, shaking his head. "You're a Penitatas, don't you understand that yet? Your parents are always going to reinforce any discipline you receive from an older authority figure, which could be almost anyone." Pausing, he frowned pensively. "As a strict Traditionalist child, I get similar treatment myself—which is why we should work together to stay out of trouble, Billy."
"Very well put, sweetie." The lieutenant affectionately ruffled the five-year-old's curly locks. Grinning playfully, she then outstretched her hand, palm downward, toward her two young charges. "Does anyone want to kiss the hand that applied the proverbial chastising rod?"
Mildly startled, Carlton blinked. His expressing gratitude after being corporally corrected was a practice that Rebecca had insisted upon during his adult existence, but it thus far hadn't been required of him during his new childhood. Although aware that his babysitter's question had been teasingly rhetorical, he nonethelesss gently took her hand and lightly pressed his lips against its back.
"Thank you for caring enough to discipline me when I deserved it, ma'am," he stated sincerely, "I'm grateful for your concern with my moral welfare."
Momentarily taken aback, the attractive blonde chuckled bemusedly while her eyes sparkled with delight.
"That was very sweet of you, Carltie." Squatting down to face the two nude children at their eye level, she reached out to touch their faces. Billy abruptly flinched away from her left hand, but Carlton smiled shyly as she caressed his cheek with the fingers of her right. "I'm sorry that it was necessary for me to spank you naughty boys, especially as soundly as I did, but hopefully it will be a learning experience for you."
"I hope so too, Miss Yolanda," the Medicalos agreed, before addressing his fellow rejuve in exasperation.
"Can't you tell when you're being treated nicely," he demanded irritably, "And respond accordingly?"
"Hmmmph," Billy grunted. "It's a little late to be friendly now."
"Billy will need time to adjust to his current situation, so don't press him about his conduct now, Carltie." Yolanda straightened up, then motioned toward the bedroom's doorway. "I was considering making you children stay bare-ass naked until Miss Lamonica showed up, but having my hand kissed has put me in a generous mood—so go get dressed, my nudist Munchkins."
"Yes, ma'am." Carlton nudged his friend. "Come on, Billy, here's an order you can follow without whining."
The six-year-old did indeed follow that feminine injunction without protest, as the two birthday-suited youngsters dashed from the master bedroom to the living room and wasted no time in finally reclaiming their masculine modesty. Being little boys in female-dominated households, they knew that any desire of theirs for personal privacy was granted scant consideration, yet both rejuves still felt an inexplicable urge to be clothed immediately; possibly they intuited that exposed boyish buttocks always constituted an implicit invitation to the spanking-oriented females in their lives.
Their babysitter allowed them several observation-free minutes before following her charges into the living room, where they were viewing a starbase-originated HV program; with their seats still smarting uncomfortably, the two boys were awkwardly standing. Feeling worn out by the evening's extended punitive activities, the pretty officer plopped down onto the center of the couch.
"Would either or both of you newly-dressed young men like to sit with me?" she asked cheerfully, patting the couch seat on both sides of her shapely hips.
The petulant penny stubbornly shook his head in negation, but his blond companion considered the offer carefully, weighing the added discomfort to his tingling-hot derriere against any possible benefits.
"Uhhhh...Well, would sitting together...uhhh...also include...ummm...?" Carlton's facial cheeks flushed as his question trailed off.
"Snuggling with your babysitter?" Yolanda grinned impishly. "Why don't you come aboard and find out, sweetheart?"
Her suggestion was promptly followed as the five-year-old climbed onto the couch and seated himself on her right, wincing slightly as his sore bumcheeks impacted the couch's padded surface.
"Owww, that stings," he muttered, "Even on this cushion." Then the small child leaned his head and shoulders into the blonde's side while she curled her arm around his shoulders and pulled him affectionately against her buxom body. "But this feels very comfortable," he remarked contentedly.
"You're welcome here too, Billy," the babysitter offered engagingly. "You can sit beside me here, if you'd like."
The dark-haired youngster hesitated, seemingly tempted momentarily, but his male patri-dom pride surfaced. "I don't need charity from any woman, especially one with no sense of humor."
"You're being ridiculous, Billy," Carlton noted bluntly. "This is the only good part about being punished—the forgiveness that comes afterward, being comforted by a beautiful woman who's strict but caring."
Billy snorted contemptuously. "Where was all that caring when she was making us strip, then whacking our asses until we bawled like babies?"
"That was the strict part," his compatriot rejoined simply, "Except that it involved caring too, since it was for our own good."
"Don't your new parents hug and hold you after they've administered correction, Billy?" The lieutenant's voice reflected her puzzlement.
"They try to," the sulking Penitatas admitted, "But I just stiffen up and don't hug them back."
"You shouldn't act that way," his fellow rejuve noted quietly, "That rejection might hurt their feelings."
"Hurt their feelings!" The six-year-old sputtered in astonishment. "What about them seriously hurting my buttcheeks?"
"Billy, I really think that you need to come sit next to me," Yolanda stated seriously, her voice soft but firm. "You're projecting a lot of unresolved anger and frustration—you need help in putting your punishment in proper perspective."
"I'm going to spend the next six or twelve years getting bare-assed blisterings from people, mostly from two sadistic women," the trembling penny stated bitterly, "That's the only perspective I've got."
"They're not sadistic, they just have to carry out their legal duties—but they also want to do what's best for you." The babysitter patted the couch's surface to her left. "Billy, you don't have to touch me but I'd like you to sit here...please."
Confused by her air of genuine concern, Billy shrugged uncertainly.
"Do it," Carlton urged drowsily, snuggling even closer to Yolanda, "You'll like it."
"What the hell, to make you happy..." Billy grudgingly walked over to the coach and awkwardly managed to climb onto it, almost falling but eventually ending up seated a foot to the blonde beauty's left. "I'm not doing any hugging, though," he insisted, sitting up straight.
"We'll see." She flashed him a welcoming smile.
With his younger comrade already half asleep, the six-year-old soon found himself also dozing off due to stress and exhaustion; he could feel the warm maternal aura invitingly emanating from the relaxed young woman. When the dark-haired boy's head eventually settled onto her lap as his arms reflexively encircled her waist, Yolanda sighed happily.
She gently touched Billy's face with her left hand, then leaned to her right and softly kissed Carlton's blond curls.
"Little boys," she murmured, "So naughty yet so wonderful."
The HV show appearing on the holovision field was a Starfleet-produced documentary, one in the critically-acclaimed 'Great Battles of Old Earth' series; it included long-obsolete film footage which had been expertly colorized and dimensionized. The fierce fighting shown had apparently occurred sometime during the mid-twentieth century, with two hostile sides struggling over control of the land surrounding a large building housing members of a religious order. Eventually the attacking forces had called upon their flying craft to drop explosives on the spiritual establishment, which had destroyed the building but hadn't resulted in much territorial gain by their soldiers.
Viewing the program through a haze of semislumber, with the two sleeping rejuves pleasantly weighing against her body, the lieutenant concluded that the overall conflict must have had religious overtones since the battle for the spiritually significant area had been both intensive and protracted.
Just as the documentary was concluding, Selena returned from the reception for Commodore Malevelle to pick up Billy. Yolanda lightly jostled her two charges to a drowsy wakefulness before identifying their visitor via the doorway holofield scanner, then opening the front door with a control pad.
"So how did everything go?" the tall brunette inquired. "Did our boys behave themselves like they promised?"
The babysitter somberly shook her head. "No, not exactly..."
Five minutes later, after the junior officer had explicitly described the rejuved youngsters' blatant misconduct and her own strict disciplinary response to it, the beautiful technician fixed both of the dejected children with a smouldering stare.
"Truly inexcusable," she announced almost incredulously, looking down on the two male miscreants who were seated uncomfortably, huddled close together on the couch. "I'm aware of Billy's disrespect for females, but I figured that Carltie could be counted on to be courteous and considerate." She addressed Carlton directly. "Was I wrong about you, young man?"
Tears of disgrace were trickling down the five-year-old's face as he haltingly sobbed his reply. "Thuh-This time y-you wuhhh-were, Miss Lahhh-monica. I l-let you d-down, ahhhhnd uh-everybuh-body else tuh-too. Ah-I'm ceruhh-certain that muh-my mother w-would appuh-prove of an-any cuhhh-correction you'd wih-wish to g-give me nuh-now, mah-ma'am."
Selena's implacable facial features softened perceptibly in reaction to the Medicalos' genuine remorse and his surprising offer to accept retribution via her formidable hairbrush.
"It's very responsible of you to suggest that," she responded calmly, "But according to Lieutenant Lansford you received the lion's share of the chastisement she administered this evening; I'm guessing that you'll be getting plenty more when the admiral returns home, so I don't believe that you also need a dose of my hairbrush ."
"Th-Thank yuhhh-you, Miss Lahhh-monicauhh." The kindergartener managed a crooked half-smile as he rubbed at his brimming eyes with the back of his hand. "Ah-I'm suhhh-sorry I dih-disappointuhhh-ed you s-so bah-badly."
"Shut off the waterworks, she's not going to wallop your butt," Billy muttered curtly, misunderstanding the cause of his friend's dismay.
"Not his," the dark-haired beauty countered sharply, "But your disobedient derriere is an entirely different matter, baby boy. Frankly, I don't agree with the conclusion that Carltie was the main culprit in the shameful 'babysitter blues' game that you two played. I'm positive you convinced him to go along with it, Billy, that it was your idea and you should've been given the extra paddling that Carltie received."
She shrugged diffidently, glancing at Yolanda. "However, the lieutenant was in charge so it was her decision to make and I'll respect it—but once I get you home you're going butt-naked over my lap in a flash, then you'll experience a hairbrushing that will make last night's bottom-warming seem like a picnic in the park."
"I've already been punished for the holocamera spying," Billy objected sullenly.
"Being spanked by your babysitter means being spanked by your parents too," Yolanda noted. "That's a basic rule for pennies, Billy dear." Her gaze shifted to Carlton. "It pretty much applies to strict Traditionalist children too, I believe."
The young blond nodded in resignation. "That's correct, ma'am."
Selena leaned forward, grasping her unhappy Penitatas by his right wrist to pull him forward onto the floor, then used her left hand to steady him as he wobbled.
"We'll start a coordination-improving regimen tomorrow," she told the boy, who was feeling off-balance in more ways than one. "Right now, I want to hear you offer a sincere apology to Lieutenant Lansford."
"I shouldn't have to do that," the penny protested stubbornly.
"You'd better do it, Billy," his rejuve compatriot suggested, "For your own good."
"Otherwise, I might insist that the lieutenant deliver those sixty swats with the leather paddle that you should've gotten earlier." The technician smiled thinly. "After you've stripped first, of course."
Billy looked down at the floor. "I-I'm sorry about what we did," he mumbled.
"Consider yourself forgiven, sweetie," Yolanda responded, then her gaze met the other woman's. "Try giving Billy some TLC after spanking and bathing him tonight—you may be surprised at his reaction."
Selena's brows furrowed. "What's TLC?"
"Tender loving care, holding him affectionately," the blonde elaborated. "He won't admit that he wants anything like that, but deep down I'm guessing he does." She paused pensively. "Oh, make it a warm bath so he'll be sleepy."
The brunette shrugged nonchalantly. "It sounds worth a try."
Shortly after bidding his friend good-bye, Carlton was once again naked—this time in his bathroom (formerly the guest bathroom) being thoroughly but tenderly bathed by his babysitter; she was seated on the bathtub's wide porcelain edge with her bare feet in the soothing heated water and her jeans rolled up above her calves.
"So you don't ever take showers, Carltie?" Yolanda inquired as she cleansed the standing boy's body with a soap-center sponge, being especially gentle when touching his sore, blushing pink bumcheeks.
"According to Mommy, little children should have tub baths," he explained, "To make sure they're completely clean. Also, it's a bonding experience between the two of us, with the caring and trust involved."
"I can't argue with that," the young woman conceded, "It's certainly quite pleasant."
"For me too," the nude child added. "Your touch is nice and soft, just like Mommy's and Nannie's when they bathe me."
"Thank you, honey; I wouldn't want to hurt you—except to smarten up your little rear end when it requires smacking." Chuckling, the babysitter accessed the bathtub's wall console to release a premeasured globule of baby shampoo, which she caught in her left hand. "Close your eyes, Carltie, so I can wash your hair—then I'll rinse you off under the shower spray."
"Okay, Miss Yolanda." His eyes shut tightly.
Moments later, squatting to dry off his sparkling-clean boyish body with a thick terryblend towel, Yolanda playfully sniffed the young rejuve's chest.
"My goodness, you smell fresh as springtime," she announced, giving his tender derriere light pats with the towel; she glanced at the hot-air vents in the ceiling. "Why don't you use the thermabreeze to dry off, instead of a towel? I activated the one in the admiral's bathroom and it worked effectively in fifteen seconds—that's why I got back into the living room so quickly to catch you talking."
"Mommy says a towel is cozier for drying me off," Carlton explained clinically. "It gives her a chance to hug me too while she wraps it around me. Sometimes she carries me into my bedroom bundled in a dry towel, then holds me on her lap for a few minutes before dressing me for bed." The five-year-old shyly touched a finger to the young woman's cheek as she used an edge of the fabric to dry off her feet and calves. "Could you do that too, Miss Yolanda?"
She beamed at the bashful boy. "I'd love to, sweetie."
As she carried the snugly-wrapped child to his bedroom, the lieutenant wondered if the admiral would ask her to babysit again; she felt palable anxiety over having had to discipline the two rejuves so soon after their parents' departure, even though it seemed to have been unavoidable. Still, Starfleet officers were expected to anticipate potential problems and act proactively to prevent them—something she'd failed to do with her young charges.
Struggling to supress lingering guilt over his misconduct, Carlton sighed pensively as the blonde sat down on a magnachair, him on her lap enveloped in a fresh warm bathtowel.
"Will you babysit me again, Miss Yolanda?" he wondered aloud.
Focusing on the question from her own perspective, she reacted doubtfully. "I can't be certain."
Misinterpreting her response, the Medicalos began to whimper as his fragile restraint disintegrated. "I don't blame you at all, I betrayed your trust."
"Carltie, I didn't mean—"
The young officer's response was abruptly truncated by a flood of childlike self-recrimination from the distraught youngster.
"I told you before that I always try to be good, then I misbehaved so badly the first time you took care of me—now you think I'm a total liar and a naughty little brat!"
Yolanda was stunned at the intensity of his feelings. "Honey, you made a mistake in judgement but—"
Once again she was interrupted by a verbal outpouring of emotion that Carlton was helplesss to resist.
"Now you hate me and you'll never speak to me again, I totally ruined everything!" Even as he burst into tearful blubbering the young rejuve was aware, within his rational adult mentality, that his striken babbling made little sense—but his mature persona wasn't in control, being overwhelmed by childish fear and frustration.
In spite of being concerned over the crying kindergartener's distress, his babysitter couldn't help giggling at his nonsensical notions.
"I'm speaking to you right now, aren't I?" She softly stroked the side of his face. "As for hating you, I'm cuddling you while you sit on my lap—I don't think that demonstrates hatred, silly child."
As suddenly as it had erupted, his outpouring of remorse subsided and the trembling boy managed to regain a modicum of composure.
"Ahhh-I'm s-sorry, ma'am, sometimes my uh-emotions just break luh-loose like that." Carlton was merely sniffling at that point. "When you suh-said that you weren't sure thuh-that you'd want to st-stay with me again, I just lost it ..."
"Hush, sweetie, that's perfectly normal for your age, " the young woman noted soothingly. "All I meant was that your guardian may think I'm partially responsible for our disciplinary incident."
"No, Miss Yolanda, she won't," he assured her. "The blame will be placed on Billy and me, where it belongs—Mommy's totally fair like that"
The junior officer sighed tiredly. "Let's hope so, honey."
The two of them had dozed off in the comfortably-hovering chair, contented expressions on their faces, when Rebecca arrived home and entered the room.
"Sleeping on the job, lieutenant?" she asked calmly.
Awakening abruptly, Yolanda was sleepily flustered.
"Oh, admiral, I'm sorry," she murmured, "I didn't mean to nod off, I was just holding Carltie..."
"Don't apologize." The admiral smiled wryly. "From what I've been told by Selena, our two rascals depleted your energy earlier."
Carlton stirred fitfully awake. "Uhhhh...Huh-Hi, Mommy...I guess you know about...how things went..."
"Miss Lamonica gave me a summary," she told her spousal ward, "But now I'll talk to Lieutenant Lansford in the living room. You, young man, are to put on your sleepers then march yourself into the corner."
The young rejuve quickly slid to the floor, landing naked between the two women. "Okay, Mommy."
The junior officer rose to follow her superior out.
When the door slid open and the two women re-entered minutes later, the blonde was glowing happily; Rebecca had praised her performance in dealing with the boys' misconduct. Attired in his aquamarine 'Doctor Denton' pajamas, Carlton was obediently facing into the near corner.
"Billy was given an emphatic chastisement from Miss Lamonica," the admiral stated pointedly. "He was hairbrush spanked soundly, butt-naked across her lap, then bent over for two dozen strokes of her leather belt." She glanced at Yolanda. "Selena said she got the belt idea from you."
The lieutenant grinned. "A retro-style belt isn't only ornamental when dealing with disobedient children."
"Carltie, say good-bye to Miss Yolanda," his guardian instructed, "Then I'll be administering parental discipline." She held a couch pillow and two punitive implements, her leather strap and a wide-backed wooden kitchen spoon, which the youngster noticed as he turned toward his babysitter.
Yolanda swept the five-year-old up into her arms, kissed his cheeks and set him back down. "I did my best for you with your mom, precious."
He nodded. "Thank you, Miss Yolanda. I'm sorry for misbehaving and I'm grateful to you for correcting me, ma'am."
Upon the blonde's departure, Carlton found himself immediately upended over Rebecca's firm thighs and the cushion; his starkly-elevated chubby bumcheeks were bared as her nimble fingers unbuttoned and lowered his sleepers' seat flap, then she picked up the short but devilishly-stinging strap while her left forearm pinned her hapless ward's waist.
"I'd planned on only two dozen handspanks followed by two dozen with the spanking glove for your scheduled sesssion," the stern brunette announced, "But now your punishment's been upgraded—four dozen strap strokes, then five minutes' corner time followed by four dozen with the wooden spoon." She clucked lightly. "The spoon smacks will scorch your bare behind, landing over the leathering stripes." She raised the flexible strap over her shoulder. "You've disappointed me deeply, sweetheart."
Carlton choked, already whimpering. "Ahhh-I know, ma'am..."
Then the boy was soundy chastised, his guardian relentlessly applying the pliable strap to his upturned bare bottom. The snapping licks left bands of fiery-hot scarlet coloration crisscrosssing the 'spank spot' at the base of his pinkened buttocks as the young rejuve wailed and bawled through forty-eight blistering cracks of the supple leather, kicking and squirming helplessly over his maternal disciplinarian's lap.
Rebecca allowed the sobbing child to regain minimal self-control before helping him to his feet. As he started to shuffle toward the corner, she gently grasped his bicep.
"Darling, I've changed my mind," she announced. "Instead of cornertime and a walloping with the wooden spoon, let's have you lie down for a nanolotion fanny massage while we have a serious discusssion—I want you to consider what happened this evening and how you can deal with similar situations more successsfully in the future." The admiral turned the little boy toward her and tenderly kissed his lips. "Is that change of plan acceptable, honey?"
Sniffling but smiling, Carlton nodded—then his expression became perplexed. "But why, Mommy...?"
"Miss Yolanda told me how much she admired your bravery and integrity in undergoing your discipline without protest," the admiral explained. "She asked me to consider that as an extenuating factor in any further punishment you received."
She shrugged. "After all, a good commander always considers her subordinate officers' suggestions..."
{THE END}
