“DREAMS AND AWAKENINGS” [“Maternal Matrimony” #5] by the Crimson Kid
(All rights reserved. This story’s setting is several hours following “MM” #4, still at the McMichael residence in Yamamoto on the planet Vladivost, mid-28th century.)
At some level of his awareness, Carlton knew that he dreaming–yet the dream, which was a re-enactment of a critical situation in his recent existence, still felt vividly compelling…
{He was on the bridge of his Starfleet medical rescue craft, approaching the isolated mining settlement on the largely-uninhabited continent of Zhukov just inside Vladivost’s north polar zone. The spacecraft was slowing down as he had ordered, while he was in audio subspace contact with Starbase Seventeen.}
{“We haven’t much time,” Carlton informed Commodore Lavinia Treadwell, the starbase’s acting commander at the time. “We’ll have to start treating those Kelvaron-exposed settlers within thirty-two minutes at the latest, or it will be too late.”
“Thirty minutes now, commander,” Ensign Yolanda Lansford stated softly, while standing behind his bridge command chair, “Based on their report of when the Kelvaron deposit was exposed by the landslide.”}
{“The purification drones,” Carlton asked the commodore pointedly, “When will they reach the surface?” He and his medical team were wearing standard radiation-proof armor, but it was only 15% effective against the overpoweringly deadly emanations from pure Kelvaron.
“Engineering doesn’t know,” Commodore Treadwell’s voice explained, sounding intermittent and faint, “Because ionic interference is scrambling the telemetry from the drones, and it may be affecting the guidance systems too. The drones were launched as soon as they were programmed and equipped to neutralize Kelvaron radiation–but that took some time, I’m afraid.”}
{“The interference is affecting our communications also, sir,” Ensign Lansford interjected, “We could lose contact at any time.”
“Damn!” Carlton stood up, his body shaking with barely-controlled frustration, and realized that a critical decision was imminent.
“We’re approaching the point to begin our planetary descent, sir,” announced Petty Officer Landon Bakken, the ship’s helmsman.
“Stand by, commander,” Commodore Treadwell’s static-disrupted voice ordered, “We’re patching Admiral McMichael through, from the surface.”}
{Rebecca, normally Starbase Seventeen’s commanding officer, was then temporarily on detached duty; she was representing Starfleet at a psychological conference being held in the Vladivostian cultural center of Montgomery.
“Acknowledged, ma’am–and thank you.” Carlton was about to risk his life, so he appreciated a last moment of conversation with his beloved wife.}
{“Carlton, sweetheart, don’t do anything rash yet–understand me?” Although heavily disrupted by ion-induced static, Rebecca’s voice was clearly recognizable.
“Rebecca honey, if I don’t make it back–” he began, but she interrupted sharply.
“Just wait, please! If I can just get some technical information for you, there may be time enough–” her voice was engulfed in a loud burst of sizzling static.
“It’ll take eight minutes to get to the surface, sir,” Ensign Lansford told Carlton. “Every minute means additional radiation damage for the settlers down there. Our shielding armor should keep us safe, shouldn’t it?”}
{Before Carlton could answer, truthfully or evasively, Rebecca’s subspace-carried voice briefly penetrated the ionic interference.
“Darling, hold up! The pu–”
The static crescendoed at that point, drowning out any further communication.
“Holding position above the mining area,” Petty Officer Bakken stated curtly.
“Commander Kristain?” Ensign Lansford’s voice held an urgent undertone.}
At that point, the dream diverged from the actual chronology of Carlton’s incredibly-altered life…
{As he struggled to voice a decision, even knowing already what that decision would be and that he would be undertaking a potentially life-threatening sacrifice, Carlton felt a sudden incessant itching on the surface of his hindquarters. He wondered if the sensation was meant as a foreshadowing of the childish, bare-bottomed chastisements that his impending action would ultimately result in him undergoing–for that sensation hadn’t happened in the real-life situation that his dream had, until that point, perfectly re-enacted.}
{Carlton reached back towards his buttocks, intending to remove his protective armor’s lower-body section in order to scratch his intensely-itching posterior, when he realized that his two medical crewmates were staring quizzically at him while awaiting his orders. Certainly he couldn’t begin clawing his fingernails into the irritably-tingling flesh of his asscheeks in front of his military subordinates–yet his hands continued to steadily move backward and downward…}
“Carltie dear, don’t do that!” Rebecca’s voice was clear and static-free.
Drowsily awakening from his slumber, Carlton became cognizant that his body was that of a five-year-old boy rather than a Starfleet officer–and that his wife-turned-guardian’s hands were gripping his wrists tightly.
“Duh-uhh-do whuh-ut, Rebecca…uhhh, Mommy?” He also realized that the annoyingly-sharp itching sensation was still centered on his boyish behind, and that he had rolled onto his stomach while reaching back to scratch his prickling-hot, flannel-covered fanny.
“Don’t try to scratch your buns, even though they’re itching intensely,” Rebecca told her recently-rejuved new ward. “The nanolotion’s just been activated, and the quick-healing chemistry produces a strong itching effect–but your bottom’s too sore for you to scratch it without risking damage to your skin.”
“But it’s so irritating,” Carlton whined plaintively, “It just itches so much!” “Sit up, sweetie,” his wife/guardian told him gently, picking up a cup of lukewarm liquid from his bedstand. “This herbal tea will help you, so drink it all down.”
“What’s in it?” He slowly sat up, his hips squirming with discomfort.
“It’s distilled from a native plant,” she explained, carefully handing him the cup. “Use both hands, please.”
“Native Vladivostan plant?” Carlton’s small hands encircled the cup, and he began to sip the moderately-heated tea–it tasted slightly tart with a tangerine flavor.
“It’s brewed from Siberoot, which is grown mostly on the Meese Plateau, and it has two almost-immediate results–it partially numbs sensory effects, especially on the drinker’s skin, and it’s also strongly soporific.” Rebecca sat down on the edge of the junior bed.
Carlton finished gulping down the pleasant-tasting drink, then put the cup back on his stand.
“It would be interesting to analyze the plant’s biochemistry,” he mused, “To see what enzymes it secretes to produce those effects on humans.”
To his surprise, Rebecca began to laugh lightly while regarding him wryly.
“What’s so damned funny about that idea?” Carlton demanded, feeling confused.
“Language, young man!” She shook her finger playfully at him. “That’s one of the behavior rules, by the way, that you’ll be receiving tomorrow–but I won’t punish you ‘ex post facto’ for it now.” She smiled affectionately. “Don’t be offended, honey, but it’s rather amusing to hear a five-year-old boy proposing biochemical analysis of his drink, rather than just reacting to its taste.” She tenderly ruffled his soft blond hair.
“Well, I’m still a medical officer,” Carlton responded, “In my own inner perception, anyway.”
“But you’re physically a young child,” Rebecca reminded him, “Pretty much emotionally, too.” She gently guided his boyish body into a prone position on the bed, then pulled the bedcovers over him as Carlton laid his head on the plumped-up pillow.
“Thanks, Mommy–it feels better already.” The itching sensation upon his recently-strapped rump had diminished to a slight tingling, and he began drifting into slumber.
“Sleep tight, darling boy,” his new guardian murmured quietly, “Tomorrow’s going to be a humbling, bottom-blazing experience for you, as your one-time daughter’s planned it.”
Cartlton did rest peacefully from that point on, until he was abruptly awakened by his new big sister nine hours later.
“Carltie, it’s time to rise and shine,” Nantessa announced in a singsong voice, gently shaking his shoulders. “Your bare buns are going to rise after every swat from my paddle, and they’ll be shining a candy-apple red by the time I’m finished smacking them!”
“Oh, Nannie…” He drowsily sat up, feeling somewhat confused, then noticed that she was gripping the rounded handle of a rectangular-headed poplar paddle in her right hand–its smooth striking surface was almost 6″x 4″ in size, with rounded edges, and it was three-eighths of an inch thick. The ash blonde wood had some scarlet lettering on its surface, but Carlton couldn’t read it clearly with his blurrily-focusing vision.
“Time for your wake-up paddling, little boy.” She slapped the paddle sharply against her left palm–Whap! “This is the start of a new family tradition with my new baby brother, so let’s get your chubby bumcheeks bared for your first morning paddywhacking from me.” She tittered cheerily. “But hardly your last, that’s for certain.”
“Oh, but Nannie, I’m so sore from yesterday…” But even as he finished the statement, he realized that it wasn’t true–his posterior didn’t feel even moderately tender, beyond the normal sensitivity of a five-year-old’s behind.
“Tell me another one, Carltie,” Nantessa scoffed condescendingly, sitting on the side of his low bed–she seated herself almost exactly where her mother had done likewise the night before, immediately prior to strapping Carlton’s boyish bare behind. “Just lie across my lap right now, and let’s see how sore your dishonest little bare fanny really is.”
Carlton started to protest, but he quickly realized that it would have the same effect with Nantessa that it had always had with Rebecca–his spanking would simply be extended and intensified.
“But, oh…Yes, Miss Nantessa.”
“Quickly, naughty brother.” Nantessa set the paddle down behind her.
Leaning forward, he got onto his hands and knees then awkwardly crawled onto his big sister’s lap. She settled him into optimal punishment-recieving position just as she’d observed her mother do dozens of times when he’d still been her father, sliding his torso forward by right-handedly pressing his derriere upward while pushing his head downward with her left hand.
Feeling highly vulnerable with his backside upturned and aware that he was facing an imminent bare-bottomed paddling, Carlton struggled to fight back childish sobs. Once his sleepers’ seat flap was unbuttoned and lowered by his girlish disciplinarian, the cool air making his plump exposed buttocks shiver, he couldn’t hold them back any longer.
“Uhhhhh…wahuhhhhh…Ahhuhhhh…” Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, as his five-year-old body again betrayed his adult consciousness.
“Don’t cry, Carltie–not yet, anyway–because I’ve got good news.” Nantessa reached back with her right hand, picking up the wooden paddle. “Your bare buns are pure white and tender as a baby’s bottom–that nanolotion really does work miracles, doesn’t it?” She gently pressed the paddle’s smooth striking surface against the base of his pristinely-pale posterior, then rubbed it lightly across both chubby cheeks in a circular pattern.
“Don’t worry, they’ll be back to bright glowing red long before I’m finished paddling them, baby boy. Before we start, would you like to read this spanking paddle’s inscription, Carltie?” Momentarily shifting the chastisement implement to her left hand, Nantessa leaned leftward to hold its smooth varnished top in front of her sibling spankee’s face.
Through already-tearing eyes Carlton focused his vision on the thick scarlet lettering–“SIBLING SEAT-SIZZLER: FOR APPLYING SOUND SISTERLY SPANKINGS TO BARE BABY-BROTHERLY BUMCHEEKS!”
“Vuh-Very ah-alliteratuh-tive, ma’am,” he stammered, thinking about the other side of the solid-looking paddle–the surface that would be blisteringly visiting and revisiting his elevated naked asscheeks.
“I thought you’d appreciate it, naughty child.” Sitting up straight and encircling Carlton’s waist with her left arm after shifting the paddle back to her right hand, Nantessa eagerly lifted the solid paddle high over her shoulder; her own gluteal globes pressed down against the bed as she took chastising aim at Carlton’s invitingly-framed, quivering round buttcheeks. “NOW you can bawl for real, brother dear!”
Then she swung the paddle downward, forcefully and accurately, and continued to do so for what her bare-bottomed brother felt was almost an eternity…
SMACK!! WHACK!! CRACK!! SMACK!! WHAP!! SMACK!! CRACK!! WHACK!!
As Carlton vainly twisted his hips and kicked his legs, Nantessa cheerfully walloped his plump, rapidly-reddening rear end with her specialty-ordered, Penitatas-rated wooden paddle. As she alternated from one blazing-hot bare buttock to another, focusing her stinging swats on his sensitive undercheek areas, her young sibling’s wails merged into one continuing long, childish “Waaahaaahaaaaahhaaaa” while his upturned naked nether cheeks bounced merrily with every resounding smack of the hardwood impacting against them.
Grinning girlishly, Nantessa wished that the ‘woodshed session’ would never end–which is exactly how it seemed to her babyishly blubbering new little brother.
Sleeping meant flashback dreams and awakening meant bare-bottomed wake-up sessions with Nannie’s rump-plastering paddle–for the foreseeable future, Carlton realized dimly while his tears continued flowing…
“REFLECTIONS” [“Maternal Matrimony” #6] by the Crimson Kid
(All rights reserved. This story’s setting is twelve hours following “Maternal Matrimony” #5, still at the McMichael residence in Yamamoto on the planet Vladivost, mid-28th century.)
Sniffling and sobbing, Carlton stood facing into the far corner of his new bedroom; he was wearing his teal blue ‘Doctor Denton’ pajama outfit, with its ‘trap-door’ seat flap hanging unbuttoned below his exposed posterior. His boyishly-plump lower bottomcheeks were crisscrossed by bright scarlet stripes, the result of an extended, blistering-hard chastisement applied to them via Rebecca and her wickedly-flexible leather strap. Since Carlton’s ‘sit spot’ at the base of both naked buttocks had received almost all of his new guardian’s punitive attentions during the sharply-stinging strapping, it was emanating a fiery glow of blazing heat.
“What a pitiful sight you are,” his spousal guardian noted cheerfully, “With your bouncy bare bumcheeks glowing so deeply like the embers of a fire.” She smiled with satisfaction at the visible effects of the over-the-lap maternal strapping that she’d just finished administering to her one-time husband’s naked hindquarters. “They must feel quite a bit like glowing-hot embers too, I would guess.” Her eyebrows arched slightly. “Am I correct, dear boy?”
“Oh, yuh-yes, uhhhhhh…muh-ma’am,” Carlton replied sobbingly.
“When Mommy wields her strap, her little boy’s bare behind pays the price for his disobedience.” Still holding the short but formidably-effective leather implement in her right hand, Rebecca sharply snapped it in the air to produce a pistol-shot report–CRACK!!
“Uhhhhohhh!” Carlton’s body jerked nervously as he barely managed to keep his hands clasped together in the small of his back–a position he’d been warned to maintain.
Rebecca strode over to her ward and affectionately tousled his somewhat sweaty blond hair.
“Relax, sweetie,” she assured him, “You’ve received your six dozen hot bare-bottom kisses from this whippy, stingy little bedtime visitor for today. Of course, Nannie will be arriving with her paddle to rekindle the fires on those strap-stripes in about five minutes.” She shook her head ruefully. “Are you sorry that you went into your sister’s room and mistreated her stuffed animals?”
Carlton’s body shivered momentarily as he struggled to reply without bursting into childish tears.
“Ahhh, I’m suh-so sorry, M-Mommy.” His voice quavered with a mixture of dread and despondence. “Wuh-Will she paddle me ruh-real hard?”
Rebecca chuckled lightly. “Is there some other way that a naughty child’s bare buns should be walloped, darling?”
“Ummmm…I g-guess not, Mommy.” His five-year-old’s body shuddered.
“You know that you deserve the bare-assed blistering that Nannie’s going to apply to your sore little seat, Carltie.” Gently touching Carlton’s tearstained face, his tall, dominant wife-turned-guardian clucked softly. “If you think that you’re sorry now, my little mischief-maker, wait until your big sister starts making your bare bumcheeks bounce with that ‘Seat-Sizzler’ paddle.” She tenderly patted each of his well-striped, fully-rounded buttocks twice. “You stay here and reflect upon your conduct today, and consider improving your behavior in the future–that’s assuming that you want to limit your ‘woodshed sessions’ to just two tomorrow.”
“Oh-Okay, Mommy.” Her young ward gulped, then heard Rebecca’s firm footsteps gradually diminishing as she walked out of the room.
Standing in the corner with his flaming-hot, flannel-framed buttcheeks on open display, Carlton did indeed engage in serious reflection regarding that day’s highly-punitive experiences that he had yet to conclude…
It had begun with a wake-up paddling from Nannie, gleefully applied to his bare derriere with the brand-spanking-new ‘Sibling Seat-Sizzler’ paddle, one that had been custom-ordered from A Penitatas supply shop in the city of Guderian.
Carlton had been whacked while across his elder sibling’s lap for a good twelve minutes; his chastisement had seemed to last twelve hours to him as he’d frantically but futilely kicked, squirmed and wailed while his sleeper-framed exposed nether cheeks had reddened steadily under Nannie’s blistering paddleswats.
After being allowed to frantically dance around the bedroom while rubbing his blazing-hot bare buttcheeks for several minutes, Carlton had been directed to stand in the far corner with his hands on top of his head while his sleepers’ seat flap remained lowered. Although he’d spent only ten tearful minutes in that position, he had chafed resentfully over his former daughter’s obvious delight at his crimson-bottomed humiliation and her ability to make him blubber babyishly via energetic application of her solidly-crafted spanking paddle.
After cleaning up, dressing and consuming a delicious but hurried (due to his being uncomfortably seated) breakfast, Carlton had been presented with his “Rules and Regulations for Little Boys” by Rebecca; the list was quite extensive and included detailed prohibitions against disrespect, dishonesty, disobedience and the use of profanity–it additionally required various types of positive behavior under certain circumstances.
Although feeling somewhat daunted by the numerous rules, Carlton had been relieved to discover that the recently-purchased Cornerstool and bee-riefs would come into contact with his childish posterior only as part of his punishment for very serious offenses or on what were identified as “personal punishment days.” These dates were not the standard special punishment days, generally public holidays, that were assigned to Penitatas rejuves, but rather dates relevant to his relationships with his one-time wife and daughter. There were shown two dates oriented towards each female–Father’s Day and her birthday for Nannie, Valentine’s Day and their wedding anniversary for Rebecca–although the list was subject to expansion.
The document contained no mention of any relief from Carlton’s regular twice-a-day regimen of bare-bottomed chastisements on general public holidays, although the daily spankings were described as “optional” punishments which could be foregone on any particular occasion at the discretion of the womanly disciplinarian administering them.
How much time would pass before his female family members demonstrated any forgiveness for his critical disregard of his then-wife’s spousal instructions, through occasional relief from his scheduled morning-and-evening disciplinary engagements–that was something that Carlton couldn’t determine.
Based on the early-afternoon hairbrush walloping that Nannie had administered to him, ten minutes he’d spent upended over her lap with his shorts and briefs tangled around his knees, Carlton didn’t expect his big sister to be in a forgiving mood at any time in the near future.
Awakening her new brother from his after-lunch nap, Nannie had reminded him of his failure to address her properly the day before, when she’d paddled his boyish bare behind in the backseat of their family hovercar. Flourishing the same flat-backed wooden hairbrush that she’d spanked Carlton with that first time, his sister had curtly lectured while he’d resignedly awaited his fanny-whacking fate.
“From now on you’ll remember to speak to me respectfully during a spanking session or your impudent little derriere will pay the price for your forgetfulness–IN SPADES! Now pull those pants and undies down to your knees, and you’d better be quick about it. I’m giving you ten seconds to show me your full southern exposure, my naughty toddler.”
“Yes, Miss Nantessa.” Carlton’s facial cheeks had flushed pinkly as he’d quickly dropped off his bed to the floor.
Smiling smugly, Nannie had smacked the punishment brush’s hard back against her left palm as she watched her downcast sibling reluctantly but urgently lower his mustard yellow trousers and royal blue briefs to knee level.
“Tsk, tsk…The blazing red color I spanked onto your saucy seat this morning has faded almost completely,” she’d murmured playfully, seating herself on the bed’s edge as her new brother’s compactly-rounded buttocks were exposed to her view, “But I know exactly how to restore it in all its glowing glory–and it’ll be my pleasure to do that for you, brother dear.” She had patted her lap with her left hand, then motioned beckoningly with the spanking brush held in her right.
“Climb aboard, Carltie, and get your plump bare rump sticking up for a lesson in respect from my hard-hitting hairbrush.”
“Yes, Miss Nantessa.” Hampered slightly by the clothing clinging around his knees, Carlton had managed to drape his body across Nannie’s firm thighs, then she had tugged his torso leftward, elevating his bent-over naked posterior to her right.
“Mmmmm…Very inviting target, your brazen bare bumcheeks–just daring me to discipline you.” Nannie had momentarily patted his upturned nether cheeks with the paddling brush’s smooth back while her sibling spankee had shivered across her lap.”You definitely need a long, red-hot hairbrush lesson about showing respect for women, don’t you, young man?”
Given his awareness of his behind’s highly-vulnerable position and that he was already going to be spanked quite soundly, Carlton had resisted commenting on his thirteen-year-old disciplinarian’s referring to herself as a woman.
“Yes, Miss Nantessa, I certainly do.” He’d gulped, goosebumps forming on his cool, exposed buttocks.
“Then I’ll happily teach you that lesson, Carltie, because I love you so much.” Nannie’s left arm had tightened around her brother’s waist as she’d raised the punishment brush in her right hand, high above his trembling, defenseless derriere.
Unable to control himself, Carlton had as usual started sobbing even before the first hairbrush swat had impacted sharply against his nakedly-exposed nether cheeks. He’d begun wailing as soon as the spanking had started and had continued to weep and blubber for the duration of his bare-bottomed chastisement, his childish cries merging into one continous loud bawling “Waaahaaahaaahaaa” that had been broken only by his gasping sobs for breath.
Nannie hadn’t tried to admonish her howling young spankee during the seat-smacking procedures–she’d simply concentrated on emphatically walloping his invitingly-upturned bare backside, alternating steadily from one chubby cheek to another and focusing on his sensitive undercheek areas, while he’d futilely squirmed and kicked across her lap. Finally, after almost ten minutes of continuous bare-assed chastisement with her cracking-hard paddling brush, the gleeful teenager had ended her new brother’s spanking session.
“Boy, Carltie, I was right about your fanny,” Nannie had announced cheerily, “It’s glowing again, a very shiny candy-apple red. I’ll bet that it must really be stinging something fierce, especially on that ‘spank spot’ right at the bottom of your bottom.” She’d giggled at that expression as she’d gently lifted up on Carlton’s waist, helping him to his feet as he’d struggled to keep his balance while blubbering raggedly.
“Oh, yes, Nan–Miss Nantessa,” he’d sobbed, “It fuh-feels s-so hot, like it’s uh-on fire, like a bluh-blazing bonfire.”
Nannie had grinned at her younger sibling’s description, which accurately reflected the flaming-bright appearance of his boyishly-rounded buttcheeks.
“Now straight into the corner,” she’d instructed briskly, “Pants and undies still down with your hands on your head, showing off your soundly-spanked bare babyish bottom. Remember, crying child–no fidgeting or rubbing your red rump, unless you want a return trip across my lap right away.”
“No, I doh-don’t, Miss Nah-Nantessa,” Carlton had stammered.
“I didn’t think so.” Grinning knowingly, Nannie had patted the hairbrush’s flat back against her left palm. “After ten minutes in the corner, you will be allowed to kiss my spanking brush and my hand–then you’ll apologize for your disrespect and humbly thank me for blistering your naughty bare bumcheeks as you deserved. Understand, my little sore-bottomed brat?”
Nannie had obviously remembered parts of the disciplinary rituals that she had observed her mother demanding of her then-father following his adult punishments at her hands, and had decided to incorporate them in her brother’s spankings–now that she had become a disciplinarian herself.
“Yes, I uh-understand, Miss N-Nantessa.” With tears still trickling down his rosy facial cheeks, he’d walked dejectedly into the bedroom’s far corner.
Carlton couldn’t rationally explain why, half an hour later, he had entered his big sister’s bedroom and had then begun to punch and kick the stuffed animals that were on top of her bed. It had obviously been an action born out of his childlike resentment at having received two hard, humiliating, bare-assed chastisements from her that day, but he’d reacted impulsively and without premeditation; as he’d watched his small fists and feet connect to his sister’s menagerie without doing any lasting damage to their well-padded targets, it had seemed as though his logical adult consciousness had been observing the fitful scene from a distance.
He’d been caught by Rebecca only a few minutes into his puerile tantrum and ordered to his bedroom until suppertime, after first having been required to replace the stuffed animals on Nannie’s bed. Nannie, who’d been out visiting a neighborhood friend, had been informed of her new brother’s misbehavior at the supper table; she had calmly informed Carlton that his invasion of her privacy would be dealt with at his bedtime.
“After you’ve gotten your regular bedtime strapping from Mom, I’ll be applying my paddle to your misbehaving bare behind, Carltie–right on top of the strap-stripes that she’ll have given you across your blistered buns. Boy, that should really make you bawl like a baby, shouldn’t it?” She’d smiled thinly at him in grim anticipation.
All too soon, Carlton had been bathed, toileted and dressed in his ‘Doctor Denton’ sleepers in order to receive two bedtime fanny-tannings; the first one, a very thorough session with his guardian’s leather strap, had been administered while he’d shamelessly squirmed, kicked and wailed across Rebecca’s thighs with his pajamas’ seat flap lowered to expose his compact bottomcheeks to the sizzling licks of the steadily-cracking supple leather.
Temporarily alone in his childish disgrace, Carlton vowed silently that he would exercise much better awareness and self-restraint in the future. As his wife-turned-guardian had pointed out, it was his highly-vulnerable rear end that was quite literally at risk when he misbehaved or acted impulsively.
Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack…
Carlton’s reflections came to an abrupt halt as he recognized the intensifying sound of Nantessa’s patent-leather footsteps in the hallway as she approached the room. He was already shuddering and sobbing when she entered his bedroom, firmly gripping the solidly-constructed ‘Sibling Seat-Sizzler’ paddle in her right hand.
“Hello, Carltie dear.” She smirked while regarding her little brother’s naked nether cheeks, framed by flannel cloth and crisscrossed with vivid scarlet stripes.
“Oh my, look at that nicely-strapped naughty bare bottom,” she cooed liltingly, “It’s such a tempting target for my ‘Seat-Sizzler,’ and you certainly deserve the paddling I’m going to apply to those chubby cheekies.” She walked over and sat down on the side edge of the junior bed.
“Over here and lie across my lap, mischievous child.” Nantessa smoothed her skirt over her girlish thighs, while hefting the poplar paddle with determination.
“Yuh-Yes, Mih-Miss Nantessa.” Tears already trickling from his downcast eyes, Carlton turned and strode forward to face his strict sister’s retribution…
“DISCIPLINE AND FORGIVENESS” [“Maternal Matrimony” #7] by the Crimson Kid
(All rights reserved. This story’s setting is immediately following “Maternal Matrimony” #6, at the McMichael residence in Yamamoto on the colony planet Vladivost, mid-28th century.)
“I think I’ll put you in a restraint position,” Nantessa informed her newly-rejuved brother as he faced her thighs on her right, ready to lower himself across her skirt-covered lap, “Even though I’m not ideally dressed for it–I should have worn slacks instead.” She pulled the emerald green knee-length skirt up to the top of her thighs, effectively baring them, then swung her right leg outward as much as minimal modesty permitted.
“Over the left leg only,” she instructed her one-time father, “Just like you used to do for Mom when she wanted to control your kicking and wiggling during a good hard bare-bottom blistering.” She patted her left knee with her left hand.
“Yes, Muh-ahhhh-Miss Nan-annn-tessa, huhhhh…” Already sobbing in anticipation of the sound paddling about to be applied to his scarlet-striped, boyishly-compact buttocks, Carlton reluctantly jacknifed his five-year-old’s body over his big sister’s left thigh. Nantessa’s right leg promptly clamped over her brother’s thighs, just above knee level, and she locked her right foot under her left ankle.
“Oh, this position really does make your exposed fanny stick up, just where I want it to be.” Nantessa giggled, gently rubbing her ‘Sibling Seat-Sizzler’ paddle in small circles on Carlton’s upthrust bare seat as she admired the crisscrossing bands of angry-looking deep red covering the ‘spank spot’ at the base of his chubby buttcheeks. “Mom is such an artist with that leather strap of hers–such beautiful handiwork all across your plump undercheeks, Carltie dear.”
“Yeh-Yes, Miss Nah-Nantessa.” Carlton gulped, fighting back sobs in his awareness of two key items–that his naked buttocks were humiliatingly open, giving his strict sibling full access to the tender ‘sit spot’ just above his thighcreases, and that his imminent sisterly walloping would sting much more intensely on his freshly-strapped seat. That impending chastisement would be his fourth of the day, and it was clearly going to be the most sizzling-hot ordeal of them all–which was saying quite a lot.
“Right hand on your back, palm up,” Nantessa instructed briskly, then she used her left hand to pin her young spankee’s wrist against the small of his back. She smiled delightedly at the helplessly vulnerable sight her brother made.
“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere, Carltie,” she teased, raising the solid poplar paddle in her right hand, “Except to Sorebottom City.” She laughed lightly. “That’s an expression Mom liked to use when you were due for a bare-bottom blistering from her, didn’t she?”
“Uhhhh…Right, Miss Nantessa.” So much for marital secrecy, Carlton told himself–but it hardly mattered anymore, he conceded. If he was stuck with two eager female disciplinarians, they might as well share the same spanking-oriented vocabulary.
“Sweetie, I do want to discuss your misbehavior toward me,” Nantessa told him almost fondly, the paddle raised in mid-air above his trembling defenseless buttcheeks, “But I’m going to have to break you down totally first for it to work…So here it comes!”
SMACK!! WHACK!! WHAP!! SMACK!! CRACK!! WHAP!! SMACK!! CRACK!!
Methodically but energetically, the pretty thirteen-year-old administered an emphatic, blistering-hard chastisement to her squirming, struggling sibling as he vainly tried to avoid the cracking-sharp smacks of the paddle. Focusing her disciplinary attentions to her new brother’s sensitive, thoroughly-striped underbuns, Nantessa alternated between his gluteal globes as she delivered her resoundingly-loud, searing-hot paddleswats.
SMACK!! CRACK!! WHAP!! SMACK!! SPLAT!! SMACK!! WHACK!! CRACK!!
Although he’d somehow managed to avoid crying until his spanking had actually started, Carlton wailed and wept continuously all through the entire bare-assed fanny-whacking. Five-year-olds have very little self-control, and his evaporated completely by the tenth whack of the hardwood against his stripe-streaked undercheeks. His pitiful bawling didn’t deter Nantessa at all, however–with womanly determination, she continued vigorously paddling her brother’s bare bumcheeks for over eight seat-scorching minutes before finally ending the disciplinary session.
His sibling spanker kept Carlton across her knees, gently rubbing his back with her left hand, for several minutes.
“Okay Carltie, it’s over now,” she remarked gently, “No more spanks tonight…Just relax and cry it out, that’s my baby boy.”
Finally she guided him to his feet, helping him steady himself as tears continued to trickle down his flushed face.
“Now, baby brother, go stand in the corner for five minutes with your paddled bare bottom on display–absolutely no fanny-rubbing, hands on your head. When I come back in here, we’re going to discuss your invading my privacy and mistreating my stuffed animals–I’ll want some truthful answers from you then, little boy.”
Nantessa leaned forward and softly kissed his face, once on each cheek. “Ummmm…Salty!” She turned his body towards the far corner of the bedroom, then gave his deeply-glowing crimson rump a brisk slap with her palm. “Move, sweetie.”
Still sniffling raggedly, Carlton walked into the corner as Nantessa stood and left the room. Obediently putting both hands on top of his damp blond hair, he then stared at the converging walls as he considered his just-concluded chastisement. Although Nannie had spanked his naked posterior very forcefully and effectively, as he’d expected, he found her affectionate behavior afterward to be rather puzzling.
Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack-click-clack…
Nantessa’s patent-leather footsteps quickly drew nearer, then she re-entered Carlton’s bedroom.
“Come over here please, Carltie.” Her voice was again gentle, even loving, as she sat down on the bed’s edge–the exact same spot that she’d occupied earlier, while administering her brother’s bare-bottom discipline.
He turned and slowly strode over to stand in front of her, his eyes downcast.
“Recovered a little, sweetheart?” she asked calmly, lightly touching his shoulder with her right hand.
“Mah-My bottom’s s-so hot and sore, Miss Nantessa,” he replied dejectedly.
“Just Nannie now,” Nantessa told him, “The punishment’s over for tonight.” She smiled sympathetically. “I took you on a pretty hot trip to Sorebottom City, didn’t I?”
“Y-You sure did, Nannie.” Carlton hesitantly met her unexpectly-mild gaze. “May I please rub my rear end now?”
“Certainly, honey.” She smiled indulgently as his hands flew behind him, reaching back to gingerly massage his stinging, sizzling bumcheeks.
“Listen carefully to me, Carltie,” she said firmly but sweetly, “Before you apologize for your blatant misbehavior and thank me for paddling your bare derriere for you, I want you to explain why you did it.”
Her little brother looked startled. “Why I did it?”
“Yes, sweetie,” Nantessa explained patiently, “Tell me why you went into my room and pummeled my stuffed animals. What was your reason for doing that?”
If Carlton’s rational adult consciousness had been responding, he would have said that his logical analysis hadn’t been able to explain his impulsive misbehavior. However, having a soundly-spanked bare behind had the effect of bringing his five-year-old’s feelings to the forefront of his awareness.
Suddenly, as if a mental dam had burst, Carlton’s raw emotions raged outward in a flowing torrent…
“Because you spanked me so long and hard with that hairbrush, just for a simple mistake in how I talked to you! I didn’t deserve that much punishment, I didn’t mean to disobey you…But Nannie, I just woke up in the infirmiry as a child and you were so mean to me… Sure I deserve some discipline, but I need some caring too!”
He paused for breath, his tears flowing again but from emotional pain, then the verbal flood abruptly continued…
“I’ll take the spankings and the teasing, but I need your love too!…You loved me as your father, but now I’m your little brother…Can you love me as a brother, Nannie?… It’s easy to love a grownup Starfleet doctor, it was easy to be one most of the time, but it’s SO HARD being a five-year-old boy!”
Finally, the barrage of speech slowed down as Carlton gasped for breath while Nantessa nodded at him encouragingly–then he continued, but more slowly and haltingly…
“I’m so sorry, Nannie…so very sorry this happened…I know I should have listened and obeyed…that I deserve the paddlings and corner time…Buh-But I need some forgiveness too!”
His big sister’s arms encircled him then, as she pulled him into a fierce-yet-fond embrace. Still sobbing, he hugged her back as well as he could while his body trembled uncontrollably and she spoke comfortingly.
“It’s okay now, baby brother, I really do love you…Oh, this whole situation is SO HARD and I feel so angry at times…But you were so totally honest just now, and I love you for that…We’ll work this out somehow, sweetheart.”
Finally she released him, and he smiled shyly at her as he stepped backward and looked into her glistening soft brown eyes–it was, they both realized, the first time that they’d felt truly comfortable together since Carlton had been rejuved.
He shook his head ruefully, trying to process their unanticipated interaction.
“I, uh…don’t know what huh-happened here…All those things I said, Nannie…”
“They needed to be said,” interjected Rebecca’s voice. She was standing in the doorway, attired in a baby blue terrycloth bathrobe, regarding with relief her daughter and her new ward. “Once you were spanked thoroughly enough for your child’s persona to emerge in control, darling, then you were ready to release your inner feelings–and admit them to yourself.”
“You knew this would happen, Mom?” Nantessa sounded perplexed.
“Let’s say I hoped it would,” her mother answered cautiously, “But only if you probed his emotions in a caring manner–that’s why I told you to be gentle and affectionate with your brother, but firm about making him explain.”
“It felt good, treating him nicely after I’d paddled him so soundly,” Nantessa admitted. “I’d felt so mean-spirited towards Carltie, but then when I was comforting him…I liked it, making him feel better after his punishment.”
“That was something you needed to recognize, dear,” Rebecca stated quietly, “That you have tender feelings for your brother, in spite of this situation.”
Her daughter sighed, exhaling slowly as a tiny tear escaped her left eye–it glimmered lightly, trapped on her cheek.
“I’ve been kind of mean to you, Carltie honey.” She caressingly wiped away the trickling tears on her brother’s face. “Can you forgive me, baby brother?”
Taking her right hand from his face, Carlton kissed it warmly–palm first, then back.
“If you’ll forgive me for my misbehavior today, Nannie,” he agreed, “But especially if you’ll start to forgive me for causing this situation.” His childlike blue eyes shone with youthful sincerity. “I only wanted to save people, but I shouldn’t have ignored Reb–uh, Mommy.”
“I’ll have to work through my feelings gradually,” Nantessa told him softly. “You can still count on plenty of bare-bottom blisterings from me, but you’ll be getting hugs and kisses too.”
“Thank you, Nannie.” Carlton released her hand. “I’ll take the discipline, if I can just have some loving and forgiveness too.”
“Okay, young man,” Rebecca announced briskly, walking toward her boyish ward, “Lie face down on your bed for an application of nanolotion, then you’ll have some Siberoot tea before going to sleep. Nannie dear, go check on the kettle and adjust the heat down to simmering, please.”
“Sure thing, Mom.” Nantessa stood up, giving her sibling’s curly hair a quick ruffle as he climbed onto the bed, dropping down into a prone position.
“Did you forget something, sweetie?” she asked him playfully.
Carlton hesitated, his face looking pensive. “Ohhhh…uh, right. Thank you very much for paddling my bare bottom for me, sister dear.”
“Considering what it accomplished for you…It was my pleasure, sweet boy.” She beamed at him affectionately, feeling relieved but drained, then left the room.
Ten minutes later, after Rebecca had carefully massaged soothing nanolotion onto her young ward’s plump posterior, buttoned up his pajamas’ seat flap and given him a lukewarm cup of strongly-soporific Siberoot tea to drink, Nantessa returned to his bedroom just as Carlton was being tucked snugly under the covers by his guardian.
“I came to bring you a couple presents,” the teenager told her drowsy, exhausted little brother. She handed him a medium-sized, feminine-looking teddy bear, one with fuzzy-soft, slightly-worn tan fur. “This is Miss Esmerelda, or just Esme for short–she was my favorite to sleep with when I was younger. She’s yours now, if you’d like to have her.”
“Thank you, Nannie.” Carlton grasped the cuddly stuffed animal, originally just to be polite, then discovered that Esme truly felt quite comforting to snuggle against.
“Here’s my other present, honey.” She handed him a small rectangular lumnicard, with a message shining on it in red and black ink. “Mom had these made up for me, even though I didn’t think I’d actually use them.”
The card had the old-style negation symbol, a red circle with a diagonal line across its middle, crossing over the drawing of a paddle in its middle. Its inscription read, “GET OUT OF A WAKE-UP PADDLING FREE CARD,” it having been modeled on a similar card from an antiquated Terran board game.
Carlton sat partway up, giving his sister a puzzled smile.
“Does this mean what I think, Nannie?” he asked her uncertainly.
Nantessa nodded, smiling back broadly. “Give it back to me tomorrow morning, then I’ll forego your scheduled wake-up paddling.” She chucked him fondly under his chin. “But don’t think I’m going soft already, baby brother–it’s just for tomorrow.”
Her sibling nodded contently, putting the card on his bedstand before lying back down and curling an arm around Esme.
“Goodnight, Mommy…Goodnight, Nannie…Thank you very much…I love you.” His eyes closed sleepily, his face looking almost angelic.
Rebecca clicked off the bedside lamp, then pocketed the tube of nanolotion to activate shortly afterward–when Carlton was in deep slumber.
He was already asleep, breathing regularly, as Nantessa leaned over to kiss his forehead.
“Sweet dreams, my darling brother…” |
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