"LITERARY CRITICISM" ("Maternal Matrimony" #20) by the Crimson Kid F/m

[Note: This story is several months ahead of the current slow-moving storyline in the continuity, so making it #20 is just an estimate at this point. Since this story is on my mind right now, I decided to write it and *plug it in* to the continuity if and when the storyline catches up to it.]

(All rights reserved. This story's setting is about 4-5 months after "Maternal Matrimony", on Starbase Seventeen orbiting the planet Vladivost, mid-28th century.)

Rebecca kissed Carlton on both cheeks, then gave his plump rump an affectionate moderate swat as he scooted toward the playroom of the Rejuve Activity Center.

"Bye, Mommy!" he called back over his shoulder.

After finishing inputting the necessary entry information and using her thumbrpint and account codeword to authorize payment for her son's stay, the Starfleet officer handed the datapad back to the registry attendant.

"I'll pick him up in less than two hours," she told the orange-uniformed, twentyish young man, indicated by his identification lumnidisk to be 'Kent Brodie.'

"Okay, admiral." He smiled awkwardly, slightly intimidated to be dealing face-to-face with the station's Starfleet commander.

"Is Justina working here right now?" Rebecca asked, almost as an afterthought.

"Yes, ma'am," Kent Brodie replied, "In the playroom."

"Hopefully she'll have a new story to tell the kids today," she remarked, "Carlton's a big fan of her stories. See you later, Kent."

Inside the short-term daycare center's playroom, Carlton had already spotted Justina Namath; she was a pleasingly plump young woman of medium height with a pretty face and slightly-curly dark brown hair. A graduate student in her mid-twenties, she worked part-time at the RAC while studying child psychology--so her job as a playroom supervisor provided her with both income and 'hands-on' field experience. She also was an original storyteller--a vocation particularly valued by Traditionalist families, who wanted their children to be proficient in understanding and using the written and spoken word in the old-style Terran manner.

Carlton wasn't then quite as enthused about Justina's storytelling as his guardian believed him to be, however, because most of her recent original stories hadn't been of the type that he liked the best. He was extremely fond of what Justina called her 'princess and prince stories,' in which a young boy (usually 6-8 years old) and a somewhat older girl (usually a teenager) were involved in adventures and perils that included thrilling action like high-speed chases, fighting of various types, captures followed by rescues or escapes, magical spells and even interstellar conflict.

He liked those stories partially for their excitement, but also because the boy-girl relationship somewhat paralleled his own sibling situation with Nannie--in those oral narratives the protagonists were usually brother and sister, although occasionally friends or neighbors instead.

From brief occasional conversations with Rebecca and Nannie, Justina was vaguely aware that although Carlton's older sister regularly disciplined him by spanking, their sibling relationship was generally close and loving. While there were no actual spankings involved in any of Justina's stories, in the 'princess and prince' recountings the older girl sometimes gave the young boy verbal reprimands that strongly implied future corporal punishment; two often-used expressions were "If we somehow get out of this, you're going to get a pants-down, across-my-lap lecture about foolish risks," and "I'm going to teach you a red-bottomed lesson if I ever get you back home."

Justina often looked quickly at Carlton, if he was part of her audience, when she quoted that type of dialogue. While there were two nine-year-old Voluntaras sisters from a Traditionalist family who could be counted on to giggle at Carlton's lightly-blushing cheeks if they were present when the storyteller made suggestions of bottom-warmings to come, most of the rejuved children were merely puzzled by his reaction.

Although Justina was known to administer soundly-effective spankings to troublemaking or disobedient rejuves, including non-pennies, while on duty at the RAC, Carlton was after all a Medicalos military hero. In addition, he had always been well-behaved and polite toward Justina, who at times could be temperamental but never punished any of her rejuved charges without provocation. Since he seemed to be a highly unlikely candidate to be corporally punished by Justina, most of his fellow rejuves--with little knowledge of Traditionalist disciplinary practices--considered his responses to spanking references to be a quirky personal affectation.

During the first two months that Carlton had regularly stayed in the RAC, at times when his mother and sister were both occupied for an hour or two in the station, Justina had often been on duty there and generally had prepared a new original narrative for her rejuve listeners about once a week. Those oral stories had almost always been of the 'princess and prince' variety, and Carlton had greatly enjoyed them--he'd even appreciated the effort that Justina had put into developing the sister-brother emotional dynamic in her adventure sagas, as long as there was plenty of action and jeopardy too. He had always told her afterward, albeit rather shyly, how much he'd truly liked each 'princess and prince' story she'd narrated for her young listeners, and she had accepted his compliments graciously--with a grateful smile and sometimes a quick hug.

As Justina's academic workload had increased, however, she'd had to reduce her working hours at the RAC and had also prepared fewer original stories to tell there. At the times she had managed to produce new narratives, they were quite different from the 'princess and prince' adventures that Carlton had become accustomed to--they almost always had two boy heroes, usually brothers, and there was much more emphasis on emotional conflicts between them and much less on action and thrills; the background development of the characters was extensive, also taking away from the adventure aspect.

Carlton had been somewhat disappointed when these new types of stories became the ones that Justina had started telling regularly, but he'd still tried to be polite about them--he had generally told her that they were well prepared and presented, which they invariably were, without commenting much on their content. (Strict Traditionalist-family children, second only to pennies in that regard, were taught to show politeness to adults or have it paddled into them via their bare bottoms.) Still, he hoped that Justina would someday return to developing and telling the 'princess and prince' stories that were his favorite type; other storytellers occasionally told those kinds of stories at school or in the RAC, but Carlton enjoyed Justina's well-recounted sister-brother adventures the best.

So when Justina asked rhetorically, "How about a brand-spanking-new story now?" about twenty minutes after he'd arrived at the RAC, the young Medicalos prematurely ended his 'Siege of Bastogne' educational HV simulgame and joined about a dozen other rejuves in the Story Corner while their storyteller took her seat in a countour-adjusting swivel chair facing outward into the playroom. The rejuved children ranged in ages from four to twelve, and their interest in listening to Justina's newest narrative seemed to follow the Traditionalist tenet that using his/her own imagination to visualize things was highly important to a child's mental development.

Carlton had been hoping that the story would be one of the action-oriented 'princess and prince' variety, but it quickly became evident that it was not. Like the overwhelming majority of Justina's recent creative efforts, it had a plotline focusing heavily on characterization and interpersonal relationship issues between two brothers with a minimum of narrative thrills and excitement. Although disappointed, Carlton stayed and paid attention to the entire story because it could be considered impolite to leave the quarter-circle of rejuves facing Justina--and Traditionalist children, again like pennies, were rarely rude and ending up tearfully regretting it when they were.

When her emotionally-intense verbal storyline was finally concluded, Justina smiled softly and leaned back wearily in her chair. Some of the children in her audience, including the three pennies and the two Traditionalist-family Voluntaras girls, made sure to thank her for telling them the story before they left the corner. Carlton hesitated about commenting to Justina about the relationship-oriented plotline; he wanted to ask his favorite storyteller if she was ever going to return to writing and narrating the 'princess and prince' adventures that he'd enjoyed so much, but she'd earlier intimated that she didn't 'take requests'--she went wherever her artistic muse led her in terms of the content of her stories.

Justina had stayed up late the night before, studying followed by practicing and polishing her new narrative; she had only managed to get about four hours of sleep, and additionally had just recovered from a mild but eneverating illness. Her eyes were half-closed when she heard Carlton's tentative approach, and she was slow in opening them completely.

"Something to tell me?" she asked the young rejuve facing her.

Carlton had decided to suggest to Justina that she go back to writing and recounting 'princess and prince' stories, but he took an indirect approach; he wanted to state his preference in a playfully flippant manner, but wasn't too successful at managing a light-hearted approach.

"Ummmm...Well, I like the older kid to have long, silky hair and...uh...soft, round boobies... in the stories I listen to," he informed her in a breezy manner.

Justina abruptly sat up straight, her eyes flashing angrily.

"What's that supposed to mean," she demanded sharply, "That my story's unacceptable because it's not your favorite type?"

Carlton took a step backward, surprised by the storyteller's offended reaction.

"I dih-didn't mean that--" he began, but the young woman interrupted him.

"I certainly didn't expect this kind of disrespect from you, Carlton." Reaching into her orange smock's pocket she withdrew a short, supple leather strap, gripping its soft flexiform handle. "Get over here right now, young man!"

Trained to immediate obedience, Carlton took two steps forward, close enough to her for Justina to drag him roughly to her right side then turn him to face her lap.

"B-But, Justina..." He started to protest, but recognized the look of retribution on her face as her hands grasped the waistband of his royal blue sweatpants. He merely stood helplessly, facing down at his disciplinarian's smock-covered thighs as she fluidly yanked his thin sweat bottoms, along with their built-in briefs, down to his knees.

"I'm certainly not in the mood for any sassy complaints," Justina stated curtly, "Which you probably can tell by now. Across my lap, Mr. Literary Critic!"

"Yes, ma'am." Carlton bent his small body over her ample lap, sobbing miserably--partly in anticipation of his impending public punishment, but mostly over having produced such a negative reaction from a woman he admired.

After quickly adjusting her spankee's position so that his naked posterior was centered on her lap and upturned for optimal access, Justina firmly grasped his right wrist in her left hand and raised the flexible leather strap held in her right one.

"Here's a 'princess and prince' lesson for you, Carlton."

Then she steadily and forcefully applied the snapping, cracking leather across his bare behind, delivering thirty-six sharp, stinging strokes over the following three minutes. Carlton began weeping and wailing as soon as his bare-fanny chastisement started, and he was blubbering raggedly by the time Justina finished administering her leathering licks to his brightly-glowing, cherry-red nether cheeks. Although he squirmed and kicked throughout the strapping, his spanker easily kept him pinioned in his vulnerably-upended, over-her-lap position all through the bare-bottom disciplinary session.

The youthful audience observing Justina's disciplinary expertise was both larger and much more raptly focused than the earlier one for her oral narrative, since every rejuved child in the playroom had crowded into the corner as soon as he/she had become aware that a chastisement was underway. Although they were all completely quiet during Carlton's bare-assed strapping, many of them were bewildered at the sight of the normally well-behaved Medicalos being punished so soundly--especially by the playroom supervisor that he'd always been fond of.

Once the spanking was completed, Justina repocketed her stap and lifted Carlton up by his waist to set him down on his feet. After standing up herself, she pushed him to face the corner behind the swivel chair as he stumbled slightly, his knee-level sweatpants encumbering his legs.

"You stand here showing off that red-hot bottom and reflect upon the rudeness of making pointless personalized demands about my stories, young man, until I tell you otherwise." She started to walk away, then turned back suddenly. "Hands on your head."

"Yuhhhh-Yes, huhhhhh, Muhhh-Miss Juhhh-uhhh-stina." Still sobbing tearfully, Carlton obeyed immediately.

Justina faced the roomful of intently-watching rejuves and addressed them warningly. "If anyone talks about Carlton's spanking within my hearing, you can expect the exact same treatment yourself."

That was a standing rule in the RAC, that chastisements administered there were not to be referred to by the other children present. Of course, the RAC personnel couldn't prevent their young clientile from discussing the punishments once they were picked up from the center. (Carlton's single previous bottom-warming at the RAC had been as a result of his then being ignorant of the punishment-discussion restriction and unwittingly transgressing it.)

Planning on leaving her just-corrected boyish spankee in the corner for at least fifteen minutes, Justina felt a sense of resolute satisfaction as she walked toward the center of the playroom.

Within five minutes, however, that sense of disciplinary accomplishment had completely evaporated. Not only was she acutely aware of Carlton's continued distraught sobbing, but she strongly suspected that it was her disapproval of his behavior, rather than his openly-displayed stinging seat, that was its primary cause.

After a mere five minutes of sorrowful corner time, Carlton heard Justina's deliberate footsteps approaching his corner. He was momentarily startled when she squatted behind him and pulled his knee-level sweat bottoms back up to his waist, doing so carefully to avoid scraping the soft cotton fabric against his sore derriere.

"Okay Carlton, you can go out into the room and play now," the young woman informed him in a soft voice. Standing back up, she gently ruffled his curly blond hair and gave him a surprisingly sympathetic smile.

"Please stop sniffling though, honey." It sounded more like a sincere plea than an instruction, she realized.

"Uhhh, I'll tuhhhh-try, Muh-Miss Justina." Carlton, his face tearstained, promptly left the Story Corner. Within a mere ten seconds his tears did indeed cease flowing, obviously vanquished by the mild treatment from his womanly disciplinarian.

Although somewhat puzzled by the incongruity of the soundness of his strapping vis-a-vis the brevity of his corner time, the young Medicalos determinedly returned to playing the simulgames and soon was childishly immersed in trying to win at 'U-Boat Stranglehold.' Meanwhile, Justina had stepped into the small reception room to briefly talk to Kent before returning to the playroom.

Forty minutes later, Kent stepped into the playroom doorway and called out to Julia, who was halfway across the large room.

"Admiral McMichael's here now, Justie," he announced boomingly. "I told her that you needed to talk to her before she picked up her son."

"Cover for me here for a couple minutes," she told her co-worker as she walked past him. "You didn't have to tell the whole room, Mr. Subtlety."

"I didn't know, Justie," he responded defensively, "You didn't say to whisper."

Irritably waving him off while wishing that she were allowed to put her fellow employees across her lap, Justina approached Rebecca as the older woman waited by the front desk.

"Is there some sort of problem, Justina?" the admiral asked, looking concerned.

"Well, I need to ask for something," Justina said uncomfortably. "The fact is that I ended up giving Carlton a spanking today--I used my leather strap on his bare bottom, thirty-six hard swats."

Rebecca frowned pensively. "What was it for, Justina? Was he disobedient to you?"

"Not disobedient, no--Carlton's never disobeyed me." Justina sighed tiredly. "I suppose that I considered it disrespectful behavior; he made a remark to to me about my new story that I felt was rather sassy."

"That's perfectly fine." The admiral nodded, her expression approving. "You're a very competent person, so naturally I totally respect your judgement. I'm grateful that you punished Carltie if he deserved it, and I'll give you my full support and follow-up with him."

"That's what I need to discuss with you, admiral. I'm aware of the Traditionalists' parental approach to their children being disciplined while under institutional care." The storyteller flashed a wry half-grin.

"Spanked at school means spanked at home," the older woman noted calmly. "That certainly applies to the RAC too--in fact, to any adult authority figure."

Justina nodded. "Yes, I know that."

"Justina, you can rest assured that the lesson you taught my son across your lap today will be strongly reinforced as soon as I get him home." The admiral's expression was highly resolute. "You can count on that--you have my personal guarantee."

"That's the situation I'm hoping we can avoid." Justina hesitated, then continued as the admiral arched her eyebrows.

"It's possible that I reacted...well, hastily...to what Carlton said to me--he probably didn't mean to be personally disrespectful. I think he was trying to ask me to write and tell a different kind of story, but he didn't express himself properly."

"I see." Rebecca paused in thoughtful consideration. "Were you offended at the way that my son talked to you? Did you feel that he was being...impertinent, perhaps...in his attitude and behavior?"

The young supervisor gave a long, resigned sigh.

"At the time he said what he did, yes...I did feel a bit insulted, because he seemed to be dismissing my new story based just on the type of story it was, rather than its literary merit." She shook her head ruefully. "But maybe I was overindulging my artistic sensitivies a little. Also, I've been sick lately and I didn't get much sleep last night, so I wasn't in a good mood to start with."

"Still, basically Carltie earned himself a good stinging lesson about expressing himself more carefully to avoid upsetting other people, didn't he?" The older woman grinned wryly, then gave a dismissive little shrug.

"If you feel that my son's punishment was a bit borderline as to being justified, don't be worried at all. The Traditionalist approach in such a borderline disciplinary situation is very simple, Justina--the benefit of the doubt always goes to the paddle, not the child's behind."

"I'm asking you not to spank Carlton at home for this incident, admiral." Justina imploringly met Rebecca's gaze. "Will you do that for me, please?"

"Well, Justina," the admiral replied seriousy, "You're asking me to break a pretty hard-and-fast Traditionalist rule--it's also part of my son's personal rules of behavior, that an institutional fanny-tanning requires a 'woodshed session' at home as well."

"Do I have any grounds for asking you to bend the rule, just this once, as a personal favor to me...?" the younger woman's speech tailed off hopefully and questioningly.

"Just this once," Rebecca agreed, "Since my son is fond of you and likes your stories so much."

"Not as much as he used to," Justina remarked, sounding relieved but drained. "Thank you very much, admiral...Now I just hope that Carlton will still have anything to do with me, after that bare-bottom blistering I gave him today."

"Does he know why you punished him, dear?" the older woman asked.

The storyteller nodded."Yes, I made that pretty clear."

"Does he know that you've forgiven him, Justina?" Rebecca probed gently. "That is, assuming that you have..."

"Certainly I have!" Justina's forehead furrowed. "Well, I hope he knows that I'm not holding a grudge now."

"Why don't you go make sure Carltie is aware of that?" The admiral looked toward the doorway to the playroom. "I'll wait for both of you here."

Inside the playroom Carlton was sitting silently alone, ignoring his 'Ironbottom Sound' simulgame while feeling dejected and confused. He'd believed that Justina had forgiven him for his ill-timed, flippantly critical comment after his punishment had been concluded, but she'd suddenly appeared to be treating him severely--reporting her disciplining of him to his mother, which would guarantee him an additional chastisement at home.

He'd just started sniffling again, his small body slumped despondently, when Justina sat down beside him and comfortingly put her arm around his shoulders.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" she asked with genuine concern.

Carlton, further confounded by her caring behavior, haltingly explained.

"Yuh-You went to tell muh-my mother about y-your punishing me, to b-be sure that I'll get a sp-spanking at home, too." Tears began to well in the corners of his cornflower-blue eyes. "You didn't have to, y-you know...I would have t-told Mommy about it any-anyway--I d-don't keep the truth from her." Two tears slowly began trickling almost symmetrically, one down each cheek.

"Oh Carlton, I'm so sorry...It must have looked that way," Justina admitted regretfully, "But it's the exact opposite--I asked your mother NOT to give you another spanking, honey."

"Y-You did?" he looked up at her in perplexed wonderment.

"That's right, and I managed to convince her." The storyteller took a light green handerchief out of her smock's side pocket; she began to tenderly wipe away the young rejuve's tears.

"Thank you, Miss Justina." Carlton risked a tentative smile. "So you're not still angry with me now?"

"No, I'm not." Justina dabbed at his eyes with her handkerchief, but no new tears were forming. "When I pulled your pants back up, sweetie, you were forgiven--that's the way it works." After repocketing her hanky, she exhaled slowly.

"Carlton, I might have overreacted just a little to your thoughtless remark--although that certainly doesn't justify your offhand dismissal of my story, which I worked very hard to prepare."

He nodded somberly. "I know, ma'am."

"So maybe you deserved one good spanking, but I don't think that you deserve another one from your mother--not for that incident anyway." Regarding the young boy's suddenly-brightened expression, Justina realized that he'd been more distressed by the belief that she was being mean-spirited toward him than by the prospect of a maternal chastisement at home.

"I'll take you to your mother now...But how about giving me a hug first?"

Turning toward the storyteller, the young Medicalos eagerly complied with her request.

"Thank you, Miss Justina--for spanking my bare bottom when I deserved it, but also being nice to me afterwards."

After concluding the heartfelt hug, Carlton gazed searchingly into Justina's hazel eyes. "Will you ever make up any more 'princess and prince' stories, Miss Justina?"

Justina briefly touched her finger to his lips.

"Carlton, I write and present what I feel; the stories are inside me somewhere, and I'm just bringing them out. I don't know if I have any more of your favorite kind of stories left in there, honey--at least not at the moment." She managed a rueful smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings again. "Can you understand that?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded slowly, feeling mildly disappointed but accepting her explanation.

When Rebecca saw her son walking beside Justina, happily holding her hand as they approached the front desk, she felt a surging sense of accomplishment.

If I can maintain his strict-but-loving upbringing, she told herself, Carlton will grow up to be a responsible, sensitive man of integrity. She chuckled inwardly. Just turned six, but what a ladykiller!

"Hi, Mommy." Carlton sounded buoyant, although he'd been downcast and sniffling only a few minutes earlier.

"If you'll just input your son's release authorization, admiral..." After reaching the desk, Justina handed the registry datapad to Rebecca.

After approving his release via her thumbprint and codeword, the admiral looked down at her child. "Justina tells me that there was a little incident here today, as a result of your attempt at literary criticism."

Carlton bit his lip before speaking, his tone subdued.

"I was rude to Miss Justina after she told her new story...She strapped my bare bottom hard, but I deserved it...I apologized for being sassy to her, Mommy--and I promise never to behave like that again."

"Well, young man," his mother informed him, "This is your lucky day, because just this once I'm going to let it go at that--which you can thank Justina for."

"Which he already has," interjected Justina. "Let me thank you again for that favor, admiral."

"You're quite welcome, Justina." Rebecca took Carlton's hand in hers. "Let's go home, sweetheart--I'm sure that your sister would like to hear all about your experiences at the RAC today."

"Yes, Mommy." The six-year-old waved as they exited the center. "Bye, Miss Justina!"

Waving back, the pretty storyteller wistfully wondered why all the good men seemed to be married, gay, vanilla or rejuved.

Rebecca beamed lovingly at her son as they headed for the nearby turbotube entrance. "I hope that you'll never get your bare buns spanked by Justina again, sweetheart."

Carlton shivered slightly. "Me too, Mommy..."

{THE END}