The Misadventures of Samantha and Malcolm/Chapter 17 It's For the Best

Samantha stood on the low stool wearing nothing but her pink panties and braided pigtails, her arms outstretched. A holographic dress appeared around her, enveloping her body in a bold blue sailor dress with a white collar. “Too much like her school uniform,” commented her mother. Samantha shivered. Holographic clothing gave no protection against the slight chill in the Setters’ finished basement. Across the room was her brother, who stood with his hands on his head and dressed his blue briefs, with the addition of a red bottom from his morning four step. The women had decided on a buster brown outfit for him and had moved on to Samantha. “How about this one?” asked Maggie Setter as she slid another design onto the holo display. “Well, we will have to lose the bertha neckline,” said Mommy. “Goes without saying,” said Mrs. Setter. “A pelerine collar would do nicely.” The inappropriately low neckline rose, replaced by a frilly collar that went all the way to her shoulders. “It should be blue,” said Mommy, “To go with her eyes.” Samantha wondered why penny parents were so fixated on Victorian and Edwardian children’s clothes. She guessed that the idea of a rigid, emotionally repressed society with overdeveloped ideas about status would hold a great deal of appeal to their contradictory compassions (at least that was the extent of her understanding of early twentieth century England, based entirely on Mommy’s favorite period comedies and dramas that she had been allowed to watch). The Martin children were being fitted for their picture day outfits. Parents liked to wheel out the fancy clothes for the occasion. A full display of the most childish and demeaning fashions they could think of. From little lord Faulteroy to the Shirley Temple special, rejuves of all ages would suffer the insult of laces and flounces. And woe be to any rejuve who got her clothes dirty, because their standard of punishment would make even the Victorians cringe. “Shorten the skirt a bit so we can make a display of the petticoats...” suggested Mrs. Setter. Samantha rolled her eyes. Something moved behind the women. They both had their backs to Malcolm, but Samantha could not help but to chuckle when she saw Talula wielding a feather on the end of a stick rise from behind a couch and move closer and closer towards her brother. “Um,” said Malcolm. He had been given orders to not move until bidden. “Quiet, young man,” said his mother. The feather reached Malcolm’s side and his body cringed as he kept his jaw locked in a struggle to not laugh. Samantha giggled at her brother’s misfortune. “Is something funny, young lady,” her mother asked. Samantha internally debated revealing what was going on behind her mother’s back. It was just too funny to cut short. Then the feather moved from Malcolm’s side to his lower regions. Past his navel and moving closer to- “NO!” exclaimed the boy and he kicked the stick aside. Talula ducked out of sight. The women turned to the boy. “Yes?” they asked. Malcolm turned from them to where Talula was hiding and back again. He repeated the process several times, growing visibly nervous. “Who is behind the couch?” asked Mommy. Malcolm hung his head. “Talula,” said the boy. “She was tickling me with a feather. And she was getting closer to my...privates” “Malcolm,” Talula jumped up indignantly. “You Nark!” “I HAVE TO!” screeched the boy. Talula backed into the wall, shocked at the emotional burst. “I HAVE TO TELL THEM EVERYTHING I DON’T HAVE A CHOICE! YOU HAVE A CHOICE I DON’T! YOU COULD HAVE NOOOOOOT DOOOONE IIIIIIIT! BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” He caught his breath. When he spoke again his voice was a little rough from shrieking. “You have a choice. I DON’T!” he finished. “Talula!” said Mrs. Setter. “Your probation for lewd conduct only JUST finished, and you thought it would be a good idea to commit the SAME CRIME AGAIN?” “It wasn’t lewd conduct!” insisted Talula. “I didn’t touch him! The feather did-” “YOU CANNOT TICKLE A BOY IN HIS UNDERWEAR AND HAVE IT NOT BE LEWD CONDUCT!” exclaimed Mrs. Setter. She reached out and grabbed the girl by the elastic waistband of her pink shorts and yanked them off. Unceremoniously forcing Talula over her knee, she caught both of the girl’s wrists in the left hand and began spanking with her right. “NOOOOOOOOOO!” *SPANK!* “MOOOOOOOMEEEEEEE!” *SPANK!* She hauled the crying girl up the stairs, abandoning her shorts and panties to the carpeted floor. Samantha hoped off the stool, only to have her mother take her arm in a firm grip. “Samantha,” Mommy said in a firm voice and with a firm face. “Did you see your brother getting tickled?” “Um…” The girl knew there was no point in lying. “Yes,” she admitted with rising trepidation in her voice. “And why did you not tell me?” asked Mommy, her grip tightening. “It…” Samantha struggled for an answer that would not get her spanked, “was kind of funny.” Dangit all! Was that the best she could do? Mommy put the girl over her knee and delivered a dozen quick spanks to her panty seat, chasing a futile wail out of the poor child. The woman paused to take down her panties. “Malcolm, get dressed,” Alison ordered and she resumed spanking Samantha. Mommy pinned her wandering hands to the small of her back with her left arm and spanked with her right. Samantha found she could not struggle long without her arms straining in protest. She cried out as mommy’s hand sent little bursts of fire into her bottom. After she started crying out apologies, mommy eased up her rhythm, but she still kept going. “Samantha,” SPANK! “Who should you apologize to?” SPANK! “MOOOOOOOMEEEE!” SPANK! “I’M SOOOOREEEEEE!” SPANK! “You’re apologizing to me!?” SPANK! “To me alone!?” SPANK! “YES!” SPANK! “MOMEE! I’M SOREEE!” SPANK! “With no thought what so ever to your own BROTHER?” Mommy gave her six hard spanks. “WAAAHH!” SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! “YES! SOREEEE!” SPANK! “MALCOLM!” SPANK! “I KNOW THAT’S A LIE!” shouted mommy as she gave her six more spanks. “You’re only saying that so I’ll stop spanking you!” SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! “That is not how you make soft time! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! “Don’t you think for one second that telling me what I want to hear is going to save you! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! “It never will! Mommy finished the session with one final, full force SPANK! “WAAAAAAAAAH!” wailed Samantha. She slid off of the lap onto her knees and tried to rub some of the fire out of her bright red bottom. “You had every opportunity to learn how to treat your fellow pennies last cycle,” said Mommy. “Now get dressed.” Samantha crawled over to where her clothes were and started putting them on. What was the point anyway? Malcolm is the favorite. Malcolm is the one who gets good grades without trying. Malcolm is the one with an adorable little girlfriend. Malcolm is the one that Mommy really loves. JUST THROW ME OUT OF THE HOUSE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO! Be still, she quieted herself as she fixed her skirt. If there was one thing she learned last cycle it was how to keep her anger down long enough to avoid a spanking. Then Malcolm came along and messed up her whole system. GOD! If only he hadn’t of come around she could have been well behaved this cycle and FINALLY gotten to soft time. No way was that going to happen now. As she pulled her socks on while lying on her back, Mrs. Setter called out. “Children, would you like to come up and see and extra-special punishment?” she said in a sing-song voice that disturbed Samantha. “Come with me,” ordered Mommy, taking her daughter by the wrist (rather hard) and pulling her up the stairs. Alison sat down on the couch and placed Samantha on her lap and wrapped her arms around her, forcing the child to place more weight than she would like onto her still tender bottom. Malcolm sat down next to them. “Here she is,” Mrs. Setter pulled a shaking Talula out from the next room and Samantha could not hide the revulsion on her face. Talula was wearing nothing but a pink lacey garter belt and matching stockings (which was disturbing enough on a five year old child), along with a pacifier gag in her mouth. There was a steady stream of tears down her face. She did not even look anyone in the eye. Mrs. Setter made her spin so that they could see her still pink bottom, and that her wrists where bound in white ribbon. Samantha felt a shudder from her Mommy’s body. “Judge Spode told me personally that I may have to take serious measures if I see any other signs of a recurrence,” said Mrs. Setter with a disheartening amount of glee. “Now let’s get started.” She forced Talula to straddle the arm of the sofa while she kept a firm grip on the girl’s wrists with her left hand. In her right hand she wielded a martinet. Samantha shuddered along with her mommy. No one had ever used the martinet on her, it was basically a scaled down ‘cat of nine tales.’ “Malcolm,” the boy jumped at his court-given name, “I don’t think you got enough credit for this, but turning down Talula’s advances was one of the smartest things you have ever done.” Talula’s tears renewed themselves and Malcolm tried to find something else to look at. “You know, that was only the second time that she has been on probation in her life. Now I’m going to tell you about the first time.” Talula gave a muffled wail through her gag. It was a sound that made Samantha sick with sympathy. She sincerely wished that she could sock Mrs. Setter right in the face. “When she was nineteen years old, Talula here managed to get a job as an attendant at Ur-mart, despite her lack of skill. But her supervisor was ever so patient with her. Unfortunately, the girl had no capacity to distinguish between professional courtesy and love, so she started coming on to him, he had a wife and volunteras at home so he let her down as gently as he could. But Talula just would not get the message. So she sent him a naked pict of herself thinking it would seal the deal. But since he left his message program open on the console, the first one to see the pict was his son when he got home from school. She was fired, convicted of stalking, and given a restraining order.” “That’s it?” asked Samantha. Talula finally looked up through tearful eyes. “What…what do you mean ‘That’s it?’ She nearly ended a marriage!” answered Mrs. Setter. “I broke a guy’s arm for less money than she would have made at that job in a week,” said Samantha. “And I recklessly endangered the entire populace against what could have been a new planet wide infection,” said Malcolm. “So if you are trying to make us hate her…” “That is not what this is about,” insisted Mrs. Setter. “Then what is it about?” asked Samantha. “I…It-It’s about demonstrating that Talula is…” “It’s about proving that it is Talula’s fault, not yours,” said Alison. Samantha and Malcolm whipped their heads to stare at their mother. Maggie Setter’s jaw dropped. “Maggie, you did all of this to prove to all of us that we should be angry at Talula, but I am actually feeling more sympathy for her, because she has to live with someone who would do THIS to her.” Maggie Setter still sneered. “You of all people,” said Maggie. “You’re a penny parent!” “And I’ve been rehabilitating criminals so long I know when someone is projecting their iniquities on someone else,” retorted Alison. “Take your children and get out of my house!” ordered Maggie. She hauled the crying girl up the stairs. Something in Talula’s pleading eyes as she was carried up the stairs latched onto Alison in the pit of her fundament. “Sam, Mal,” she said. “Wait here at the door.” Alison walked up the stairs, intent on confronting Maggie further. Then a new cry came from the upstairs bathroom and Alison ran the rest of the step and tore open the door. Maggie was seated on the toilet and was so surprised she let Talula slip off her lap and fall to the floor. The girl kept crying and squirming and Alison saw the reason why: in Maggie’s left hand was a bottle of sanitizing solution, fine for normal skin, but not for use on orifices. “I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE!” shouted Maggie. “Maggie,” Alison said, barley concealing the rage in her voice, “did you just used a caustic chemical substance on your own daughter?” Maggie rose, bringing herself up to her full height (which was still twenty centimeters shorter than Alison). “She’s not my daughter!” insisted Maggie. Instinct seized Alison. She buried her right heel in Maggie’s left foot. When Maggie doubled over in pain, Alison grabbed the woman’s head and slammed her knee into her face. Maggie fell to the floor crying and holding her right eye with both hands. She looked up at Alison in terror and pushed herself into a corner. “THIS IS NOT THE DUNGEON!” shouted Alison. “AND TALULA IS YOU DAUGHTER!” She grabbed a towel off a rack, wrapped Talula in it, took the girl up in a matronly hold, and marched out. “When you are ready to accept those facts, then you can come talk to me again.” She quickly sailed down the stairs. “We’re going,” she told Sam & Mal, who accepted the statement without argument. They were out the door and into their yard when Alison froze. “Wait!” she said, “What about-ED!” She turned to find Ed right behind her kids. “Yes, Miss?” asked Ed. “Just-Everyone, inside. Open door!” the front door of her house swung open and closed behind them. “Ed, wait on the couch,” Ed sat down. “Kids, in your room.” Sam & Mal raced up the stairs, followed by Alison carrying Talula. She took the still crying girl into the guest room, laid out the towel and started freeing Talula of the gag and garters. The knot on the ribbon had been pulled too tight to come loose easily, so Alison simply snipped it apart with some fingernail clippers. Once the girl was free of every piece of that sickening costume, Alison placed her hand on Talula’s cheek. “Talula,” she said, “I want to look your privates for signs of abuse.” The girl closed her eyes and opened her legs. The mother inspected, and finding no signs of sexual abuse, guided the girl’s knees back together with her hands. “Do you want some nano lotion?” she asked. Talula nodded yes and turned over. Alison left the room to retrieve the bottle of nano-lotion from the medicine cabinet and some of Samantha’s pajamas along the way. Returning to the abused child, her practiced hands laid the healing unguent on the marks quickly and then pulled the pajamas on the girl and tucked her into the covers. “Do you want the delta inducer?” She asked and Talula nodded again. Alison turned on the bed and the girl drifted to sleep quickly. Alison activated the nano-lotion, left the room, closed the door, went down to the dining room, and sat down. She was sure that she had just done the right thing. Getting Talula out of there was definitely the right thing. But there were definitely going to be consequences to this. She still could not believe that Maggie had done that to a child, even as a punishment. Using sterilizing solution on the lower orifices was banned, even against pennies. Her own daughter. Even if the parental bond was an artificial one, there was no excuse. From a superficial and shallow standpoint, the parent and child relationship was close to a dominant and submissive relationship. One party sets every rule, the other party must follow every rule or risk punishment. One party decides what is best, the other has no recourse but to abide. One party cannot be questioned, the other is always in question. But only a fool would see it in such disgustingly simple terms, Alison thought. Parenting is not a job, it is a dedication, a holy obligation to guide, and if possible, to enrich the life of another sufficiently to make them think about more than themselves. The parent is the one doing the serving! Parenting is not easy. It is hard enough worrying about the things that might go wrong in your own life. But worrying for another person, or more? That is enough to drive you crazy. You constantly worry that you are doing the right thing, that it will lead to the right thing in the future, and that it is not going to be undermined by something you did in the past that you hoped was the right thing at the time! Alison remembered the movie “Kagemusha” by Akira Kurosawa. When Alison had seen the film, she thought of it as a commentary on the sacrificing of one’s identity to achieve great deeds. And she could not help but to think of her role as a parent. Her life was not her own, it belonged to her children. She had to put her own thoughts and feelings aside. But that was not what shallow people thought. Alison knew that before childrearing was as regulated by the state as it was today, a small percentage of immature folk had gone in for parenting with the completely wrong idea. She remembered the account of one distressed teenager who thought that she would have a child, so that she would have something that would love her. NO! Parenting is not some perfect dream of love and obligation. That is what Maggie thought, imagined Alison. Maggie thought that being a mother meant never having to say she was sorry. That she would wield maternal sympathy as a shield to deflect all resistance and as a sword to carve her real desires out of Talula and others. Or was she just seeing the behaviors of her own parents in Maggie? That was a disturbing thought. Alison’s own mother was quick to use passive aggressive guilt to get her child to obey, and her father had pounded Bible verses so many times she had felt guilty for so much as thinking about sex. But they had still loved her, and what they had done was in the sincere hope that Alison would benefit from it…at least that is what she thought it was all about. But in her darkest moments she imagined that her parents were hateful monsters who passed their fear of life on to her. Was she projecting her conflicted feelings of her parents on to Maggie? Of Course Not! It was wrong! What Maggie did was wrong! Maggie was never ready to be a mother! When she and Maggie were subs together under Thornton, Maggie had been the queen of passive aggressive manipulation. She could remember several occasions where Maggie had gotten Alison blamed and punished for things that Maggie had subtlety arranged. She liked deflecting rivals for Thornton’s affection using creative deceptions She had let that bleed into her child rearing methods and that was unforgivable. Did Maggie actually see Talula, a five year old girl, as a sexual rival? What had just went down in that house was more about Maggie’s gratification than Talula’s well being, and that was unforgivable to Alison. The holo activated, blasting a children’s song into the house and scaring Alison out of her musings. “Edward,” said Alison, “Please turn that off.” Ed turned off the music she had activated and walked into the dining room. Alison was very grateful that the erratic twelve year old seemed to sense that this was a serious matter. “I need you to tell me, does Maggie say mean things to you and Talula?” “Sometimes to Talula, when fake-Daddy is not around,” said Ed and Alison’s heart sunk even more. “And fake-Mommy fights with fake-Daddy when they think we can’t hear them.” “What kind of things do they fight about?” asked Alison. “Fake-Daddy says that studying me is more important than Fake-Mommy or Talula and fake-Mommy says that she wanted to spend the next few years with a loli sucking on her boobies while she masturbates but instead she has to deal with Talula and me.” “Is that what they say?” asked Alison. “That’s what they mean,” said Ed. Jet walking the the door from the garage. Alison must have been so upset she didn’t hear the car come in. “Alison,” he said proudly. “May I be the first to introduce you to the new Detective Lieutenant of the Vice division?” Alison sincerely wished she could look happier. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Alison sent Ed back into the living room took the time to explain the details of the day to him. Jet’s face sank as the story went on. “You’re right,” he said. “That was illegal. Does Thornton know?” “No,” Alison hung her head as she thought of breaking the bad news to him. “Well we will,” said Jet. “And we also have to call the parenting board. They will want to initiate a competency hearing.” “I’ll tell Thornton,” said Alison. She sat down next to the holo-link and punched his contact. She was scared that Maggie had called him already and given an account that would put Alison in an unflattering light. She had done it before. It was only then she realized that he probably would have called her if that had happened. Why hadn’t he done that? “Yes, Alison?” a holographic bust of Thornton appeared. “Thornton,” said Alison, “are you sitting down?” Once again she had to tell the story of what Mrs. Setter had done. By the end of the story, Mr. Setter’s head was in his hands. “This could not have happened at a worse time,” the hologram said. “I’ve just gotten some terrible news about Talula’s father.” Samantha did not know how long they were supposed to stay in their room, but she was not going to be the one to make trouble on this day. SO she had simply picked up her tablet and gotten back to the old book she was reading. After Steve and Malcolm had mentioned something about soldiers with rocket launching rifles, she had looked into the Warhammer 40000 setting more and found a public domain collection about a soldier named ‘Ciaphas Cain.’ Mommy had happily authorized the texts to her daughter, saying that she was glad to see an interest in classic literature. Samantha was glad that mommy did not look too close at the book, because it was a mess of violent encounters with monstrous aliens. (Samantha did not know this, in fact few pennies had stumbled onto this fact yet, but the censorship laws that apply to children cover images, not words. So it was legal for a rejuve child to read anything she or he wanted. Pennies, however, had to ask permission from their parents to read a book outside of the school library and the board agreed this was all the censorship the children would need. After all, would you ask your parents’ permission to read ‘Lady Chatterley's Lover?’) She really related to Ciaphas Cain and his skeptical attitude towards the fascist theocracy he was forced to defend. She really liked his contempt for ecclesiarchy and capacity to conceal his sarcasm. Even if the English written down was a couple of hundred years old she did not have much trouble with it. Back on the commune she grew up on, everyone was trying to get their speech as close to the King James Bible as possible (their priest had declared all other versions of the Bible to be heretical). There was little homework to do, they were expected to take up the time studying for final exams, a precious few weeks away. Malcolm was studying. Wait, no he was not. She had only now just looked up from the tablet to see that whatever Malcolm was doing on his holo-desk, it was not homework. “What is that?” she asked. “Oh, this is the family hall interface for Age of Legends,” he explained as she stood next to him. “This is the interior of my family manse.” He gestured to the 3D model on the desk, it was a room decorated in ‘dungeon punk,’ filled with turning gears, glowing crystals, Bins of different metallic and crystalline substances, and one great big anvil next to which sat a jewel encrusted hammer. “This is where I make all of the items and modifications that you have been enjoying in the game,” he said. Samantha did know that all the fancy guns and armor he had given her character was worth it, and that all the advice he had on how to handle dungeon threats works, but she had no intention of stating that out loud unless Mommy or Daddy made her. “Uncle Ray just made my family a vassal to his house.” “A vassal?” asked Samantha. “Yes,” said Malcolm, “I serve his house. He gives me rare metals and I make him rare items. The only way to get the best items is to make them yourself, or get a friend to make them. it used to be that you had to spend long quests to get the best items, but then the users would spend too much time gaming and not enough living so the head developer-” Malcolm was cut off by a primal scream from the direction of the guest bedroom. the children scrambled out of their room, down the hall and poked their heads into the guest room. Samantha did not even hear Mr. Setter enter the house, but he was there in the room, along with Mom and Dad. Talula was kneeling and hammering her fists on the ground as she shrieked. “THAT BITCH! THAT FUCKING BITCH! EVERYTHING! SHE TOOK EVERYTHING!” screamed the child. Jet noticed his own children and intercepted them. Taking them by the hands he guided them back to their room, and sat them down on Samantha’s bed. They could all still hear Talula’s incoherent wails. “Kids,” Jet’s face was as serious as it could get, “Talula is going to be staying with us for a bit, and you will need to give her a lot of sympathy and latitude. We just got some distressing news. He sat down on Malcolm’s bed and continued, “How much do you know about Talula’s biological mother and father?” “Talula said,” stated Samantha, “That her bio momma chased away her bio daddy with malice and spite and then spent eighteen years pouring that malice and spite into Talula...at least that is more or less what she said.” “Yes,” said Jet, “well we were going by the version that Talula had given us. But a plumbing survey team made a rather gruesome discovery yesterday.” Jet sighed. “They found Talula’s father buried in her mother’s back yard.” The children’s eyes went wide. “He was murdered, and Talula’s biological mother is now under arrest under suspicion of that murder.” He rose and placed a hand on each of his childrens’ heads. “So I say again, you have to be extra nice to Talula.” “Yes, sir,” the children agreed in unison. “However,” said Jet, “that does not mean that you give her a pass on reckless behavior. Malcolm, if she comes on to you again you have to tell us. And both of you, if you see or know about her doing anything dangerous you have to tell either your mother or me. You will do more harm concealing any wrongdoing than revealing it. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir,” the children agreed in unison. The next monday on the playground, Malcolm explained everything to Natalie inside the jungle gym. “And now she’s in your house?” asked Natalie. Once Malcolm finished the un-edited story. “Yes,” said Malcolm, “but she hasn’t left her room for anything but the bathroom. Mom brings her meals and she is missing kindergarten with a note from a psych doc she saw on Sunday.” “Wow,” said Natalie and she sat down in the sand. “I had no idea.” “Samantha knocked a couple of times, but she just said: ‘please leave me alone,’ or something like that,” said Malcolm. Natalie stared at the sand for a bit. Malcolm was worried. Was she going to be angry that Talula had moved in? Was she going to be jealous of her? “Do you think I could talk to her?” asked Natalie. “Um,” Malcolm thought about it. “Maybe. I mean, I’ll have to ask my mom…” That afternoon, Talula lay on top of the covers staring at the ceiling. She tried to watch a an old episode of Rainbow Surfers but even that didn’t cheer her up. There was a knock at the door. “What?” she mumbled. The door opened and Talula was surprised to see Natalie close the door behind her. “What are you doing here?” “Malcolm told me what happened,” confessed Natalie. Talula grabbed the quilt and pulled it over her entire body. Natalie crawled up onto the bed and hugged her through the quilt. “Talula,” said Natalie in a voice she hoped was loud enough to get through the cloth, “did Malcolm tell you my parents abandoned me?” Talula poked her head out of the cover. “They did?” she asked. “Yes,” said Natalie. “First my dad ran out, then my mom left me at a mall. I was rescued by a man named Henry Warnimont who raised me. But I never forgot my real mommy and daddy. And I tried my best to bury my misery that I had lost them, that they had abandoned me. To not ask: ‘Why me?’ ‘What did I do wrong?’ “I never had to ask that,” interjected Talula, her rage rising. “I knew exactly what I was doing wrong. Everything! I could not do one thing right for my mother. Not ever! She looked at my grades and said: ‘Why aren’t these higher!? School is easy why do I get the retard daughter?’ I’d come home from high school and she asked me how many boys my slut mouth had sucked off today. ‘IT’S A GOOD THING YOU CHASED YOUR FATHER AWAY! IF HE SAW HIS SLUT DAUGHTER HE’D OF DIED OF SHAME!” Natalie winced as Talula shouted right in her ear. Talula had begun to tear up. “But that’s what you wanted,” said Natalie. Talula’s face went blank. “You wanted him to come back. Come back and save you.” Talula exploded into tears. Natalie removed the quilt and embraced her as hard as she could. “I wanted my daddy!” cried Talula. “I wanted my daddy to came and take me away! take me ta somlace she could never find me and never shout at me, and never hit me ever agaaaaain!” Natalie felt herself crying as she hugged Talula. It was strange but she was kind of gratified to find a situation that she personally cry without a spanking, but she pushed her personal indulgence aside and spoke to Talula. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said. “She never should have done that to you.” Downstairs in the kitchen, Alison and Jennifer hunched over the holo of the guest room. Jennifer was wringing her hands and Alison had both hands over her mouth. There was a creak of a sneaker behind them and Alison turned her head. “Come out,” said Alison. Malcolm shuffled out from behind the doorway. He’d been told to watch the holo with Jaydee and Samantha. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “Yes it is, just go back,” Alison shooed him away hurriedly. “Do you always do this when Natalie comes over?” he asked. Alison froze. she tried to think of an answer that would preserve her authority. He had asked it in an accusatory tone, he had just asked it. “I’m just worried about Talula, that she might do something to hurt herself,” said Alison. “That not a…” Malcolm started, but then he sighed. “Yes, Ma’am.” He went back to the living room. Alison held her hand to her forehead. She knew she should have said something different. Malcolm had just asked her if she ever spied on him and his girlfriend and she had made a poor deflection. He had accepted that deflection as proof that she did not trust him, which would translate into a lack of trust in her. She’d seen such things before. She needed to correct this right now. “Malcolm wait,” she rose. “You can watch them?” she asked Jennifer. “Of course,” assured Jen. Alison entered the living room. (moments earlier) As Malcolm had left Samantha and Jaydee on the couch to watch the forgettably mediocre holo so that he could listen at the door way, Jaydee had slid much closer to Samantha. She’s closer, thought Samantha as her heart started picking up the pace. Samantha took hold of Jaydee’s hand. Jaydee squeezed her hand back and Samantha felt blood in her face. Jaydee laid her chin on Samantha’s shoulder, then she gave Samantha a little kiss on the cheek. All thought of the outside world was gone. Samantha turned her head, closed her eyes, and their lips touched. Samantha felt like she was rising, being uplifted. They withdrew, opened their eyes and grinned at each other. Then Samantha’s eyes went wide when she saw Malcolm staring slack jawed at them. “Malcolm, wait,” she heard Mommy say and her brother whirled around to see Mommy walk in. “I…!” stutered Malcolm “Isa-Isa-Isa-Isa-Isa-.” (he was trying to say ‘I saw them kissing’ but he just could not overcome a complex internal debate over all the factors of the situation) In a flash, Samantha deduced that if Malcolm told Mommy before she did, it would be even worse. “We kissed,” she confessed. Mommy stood still. “You-you...yooooouuuuu-YOU!” Mommy pointed at both of the girls. “Is it important?” called out Jen from the kitchen. “OUR DAUGHTERS ARE KISSING!” exclaimed Alison and Jen rushed into the room. Malcolm took up a position on the stairs and watched through the banister columns. “WHAT!” exclaimed Jen. “JUST NOW?” “YES!” said Alison. Jen marched up to Jaydee. “HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?” she demanded. “Just now,” said Jaydee, moving and saying as little as possible. “Is that ALL!” demanded Jen. “Only if you count thinking about kissing,” said Jaydee. “I’ve been thinking about it too,” confessed Sam and the girls giggled through their fear. “Jen,” said Alison. “Did you tell both of your girls about the rules of penny relationships, or did you only tell Natalie?” “OH MY GOD!” Jen threw her hands in the air and started pacing. “Okay-OKAY! This is salvageable! This is not a violation. Because this is just one little kiss, no rule against that. After all you were both willing. It was consensual. Wasn’t it?” She grabbed Jaydee by the shoulders “WASN’T IT?! Say yes.” “Yes,” they both answered honestly. “Good!” said Jen. “Because, Jaydee, if you were ever to touch Samantha in a way that could be interpreted as sexual, I would be required by regulation to give you a long, harsh punishment with three separate implements.” Jaydee’s lower lip started to tremble. “And that would be followed by an enema with a liquid engineered to be caustic!” “We call it pain-o drain-o,” confirmed Samantha. “WHERE ARE THE GIRLS!” exclaimed Alison. “They’re right here,” said Jen. “NOT THOSE GIRLS! THE OTHER GIRLS!” Alison pointed to the empty holo of the guest bedroom. “We’re up here,” said Natalie. Everyone turned to see the two of them sitting at the top of the stairs. “Yeah, don’t mind us,” said Talula (who looked much better). “Alright, good,” said Jen. “You’re there and you are fine. And the boy is here and he is fine. And the girls are here and when we get you back, your father is going to have a very long talk with you and-” The comm chime beeped. “EVERYONE SHUT UP!” ordered Alison. She had been expecting news about Talula’s custody. She rushed into the kitchen, leaving everyone in the living room to wonder. She came back, went up the stairs, and took hold of Talula’s hand. “That was Jet,” she said. “Tomorrow afternoon there is going to be a hearing about your custody.” Talula squeezed Alison’s hand. Tuesday morning, Ms. Fesse had an announcement. “Our school is participating the beta test for our positive reinforcement program,” said their teacher. “The most popular penny game is Age of Legends: Chibi. So for the next three weeks, you will all be testing a study system where completing assignments makes your characters stronger.” Malcolm’s hand shot up. “Yes,” She called on him. “What do you mean when you say stronger?” he asked. “Will there be a stat bonus or an item reward?” “The full details will be available in messages once you get home,” then she started the real lesson. Malcolm found it hard to concentrate with the thoughts of new ways to customize his character dancing in his head. Tuesday afternoon, Alison dropped Samantha and Malcolm off with Jen. “Thank you again for taking them,” said Alison to Jen. “It’s no problem, they needed a good study session before finals anyway. Anthony and Robert are coming over too,” said Jen. Malcolm and Natalie found six desks set up in the living room, and one table on the side set up for PP&C. They were joined by the girls and Malcolm and Natalie started tutoring them. They needed a lot of help in Paradiso History. Soon enough, Anthony and Robert did join along with Mrs. Stevens (though Robert’s books were not as advanced as theirs). Malcolm was tempted to ask if he and Natalie could play PP&C, but with four other kids watching it just felt wrong to ask. Malcolm took the liberty of perusing the message released to his school message box. He was amazed. According to this, by syncing his skyslam account and his educational profile, the more homework he did, the higher his character’s mental stats would become. There were other bonuses, his physical stats would increase the more exercise he did in front of the family holo console, and completing the penny morality exercises (the most cryptic and frustrating school work, if you asked Malcolm’s opinion) would increase social stats. Or you could work towards currency to purchase items. This was brilliant, it used to be the only way to level up your characters was to spend long hours playing missions in the game. That was impossible since he only got an hour of holo time every other day if he was lucky. Now with this, he could level up his character by grinding educational drills. He dived headlong into his Math homework. “This is very good work,” Auntie Jen looked approvingly at their math scores. “And if you finish you can play holo games,” she promised. After all of the homework and studying was finished to the parent’s satisfaction, the kids dialed up their characters for Age of Legends: Chibi. “Okay, let me see your characters,” Malcolm said to Anthony and Robert. They called up their characters. Malcolm looked at Anthony’s stats. “All right, that is fairly standard,” he said as he appraised Anthony’s paladin character. “Oh I’ve seen this before. You spent all your money on your sword, didn’t you?” “I like swords,” said Anthony. “Yes, but as a Paladin you are capable of equipping the best armor in the game. We should not avoid that, give me a second.” He called up his profile and accessed his foundry house. “Alright...automatic hammers…set up the schematics...Okay, in ten minutes I will have a better suit of armor than the one you are wearing.” “He’s really good at this,” promised Natalie. “Okay, Robert GEEE-ah oh, what is this,” he could not contain his horror when he saw Robert’s Wizard. “Damage, protection, manipulation, everything, you are all over the place which one are you focusing on?” “No no,” insisted Robert, “I’m gonna master all of them.” Malcolm touched his hand to his forehead. “You can’t…well, it used to be impossible because you could only get so many points in the quests. But with these new development rules you could, if you do enough of your homework you can make the points. “For now however, you should pick one specialization, max that out, then max out the others one at a time. Spreading yourself too thin is not strategically viable. So what part of your magic do you want to focus on?” “I wanna shoot fireballs,” said Robert. “That is quite typical,” said Malcolm. Alison held Talula on her lap, very tightly, as she sat on a bench in the lobby of the. Her fate was in the hands of the five parental councilors currently in private conference. The hearing had gone on for a bit. First Thornton had been called to testify as to everything that had happened. The councilors were rather hard on him for not keeping his house in order. Maggie had been called but she had not shown, which only solidified her image as the guilty abuser (Thornton had informed Alison, in rather a rather disappointed tone, that Maggie did not have the emotional fortitude to be called to account for all the things she had done wrong). Then Alison had testified to the things that she had seen and heard. Followed by Jet. They had answered honestly. Then they called Ed...and spent twenty minutes getting nowhere. Then they called Talula. She had answered honestly about what had happened in their house after some encouragement. Then they called the child psychiatrist Talula and Ed had spoken to on Sunday. He talked about Talula’s dependency issues and how little he was able to deduce of Ed. So a recess was called while the councilors debated Talula’s placement. Jet and Alison had put in an application for a special circumstance to care for Talula and Ed themselves, but that was a distant chance. It was very rare for families to grow larger than three on Paradisio. In rejuve families the councilors seemed to think that two was the ideal number of children, one child per parent. A single child household usually resulted in the child being self-centered, so they liked to create siblings to teach children about the inevitable give and take of society. Three children were not common but sometimes allowed. Four children only happened under special circumstance, like when the resentment and development of the Westboon district allowed for a relaxed regulation in parental standards. The clerk called everyone back into the court and the councilors gave their verdict. “We find there is sufficient evidence of abuse to relocate Edward and Talula to different parents. We do not find sufficient evidence of physical danger to reclassify either to psycholos status. There is a special request for custody from Jet Martin and wife, penitatas status parents of good qualification.” Alison suppressed her indignation at being ‘and wife.’ “But the prosecutor in the case of Talula’s mother has informed us that she anticipates, if not a guilty plea, then a guilty verdict. And we want to avoid Talula having any proximity to the penitential system without reasonable assurance that a confrontation between her and her mother will not occur. “As such, Talula Setter will be relocated to a qualified set of voluntaras parents in a separate district of the colony to be assigned by the parental logistics division within two days. You will be put in contact with her new caretakers as promptly as possible.” The head councilor banged his gavel. “Dismissed.” This was about what they expected. Alison held Talula tighter. “Don’t worry,” she assured the girl. “Everything will be fine.” Talula did not look reassured. “No matter who you wind up with I will stay in contact. And so will Malcolm and Samantha,” she promised. That seemed to make Talula feel better. Alison and Jet gathered up Talula and Ed (though gathering Ed was easier said than done) and left. However, Alison stopped them just outside the door. “Jet is going to take you to the toasted buns for dinner,” she said. “I have an appointment upstairs.” “WHAT WAS THAT!” demanded Samantha as the tentacle stalker finished off Jaydee’s monk. “You were supposed to leave the boss alone until we dealt with the foot soldiers!” she said to Anthony. “And YOU,” she turned to Robert, “We went to all the trouble to put the enemy healer to sleep with a spell and you wake her up by setting her on fire!” Robert started to cry “Oh you think crying is going to-” She was abruptly interrupted by Mrs. Stevens grabbing her by the waist of her skirt, depositing her on her lap, and unceremoniously yanking down her clothes. “No No NO! I’m Sorry!” *SPANK* “WAAAAH!” It was much too late for apologies. Mrs. Campbell held little back in punishing the girl that made her foster son cry. “After you are finished,” said Auntie Jen. “I would like to have a more thorough discussion with Samantha.” She produced Jaydee’s paddle. “Goes without saying,” said Maddie Campbell with a cordiality that mocked Samantha’s cries of suffering. Five more spanks made her cry even harder. in the end Maddie gave Samantha thirty spanks of about even hardness and let the girl off her lap. Samantha cried and rubbed her red bottom. Then Jen tapped the paddle on her thigh, and Samantha approached her former mother with little enthusiasm. “Samantha,” said an angry Jaydee as she passed. “How could you get angry at my friends over a holo game?” Jaydee’s admonishment hit Samantha harder than any paddle ever could. “I’m really sorry,” she promised Anthony and Robert as she passed them. Auntie Jen bent Samantha over the arm of the couch and pinned both of her wrists against the small of her back. Samantha kept crying as she felt the paddle tapped on her bare, and quite sore, bottom. “I’m so disappointed in you,” Jen said. Samantha wailed before the first spank fell. With every stroke, Samantha writhed and wept, wildly kicking her feet and throwing her head back and forth. At first Robert was laughing at her, but as the punishment went on he fell silent and grasped his elder brother for emotional support. Malcolm held on to Natalie. Jaydee folded her arms and looked away. Finally, Jen decided Samantha’s bottom was a satisfactory shade of red and set down the paddle and deposited Samantha at a desk, minus her skirt and panties. “Now you just see if you can get in some more studying while your friends play their game. Samantha shifted in her seat, failing to find an angle that would not put pressure on her sore bottom. She went back to her English homework, trying to forget that they rest of the kids finished the mini-boss just fine without her after two more tries. Malcolm was guiding them the whole way. “Okay, Robert it is okay, calm down. Don’t use your area effect spells until after we remove this guy here and it is okay to take an extra few second to make sure you hit the right button for the right spell. I saw you there, you were panicking and you hit the wrong button. So I will tell you to your face, it is okay to take time for accuracy. And Anthony, I want you to use this taunt, not this one. The other one wakes up the enemy healer. And if you have questions, just call them out I will answer them.” Well, thought Samantha, Malcolm is good at holo games. Well I’m sorry I never got good at holo games. I was too busy having SEX WITH GIRLS! And also listening to my ignorant preacher preach against the demonic nature of women’s cosmetics...six days after his son tries to force himself on a girl in his class. Yes, of course, it was the makeup that made him try to rape her. SHE WASN’T EVEN WEARING MAKE UP! He sows a monster, and it is the girl’s fault for looking like a girl. What’s the god damned point anyway. Everything I do is wrong before I do it so WHY SHOULD I TRY! “Um, Auntie Jen ,” she heard her brother say. “Yes, Malcolm,” said Auntie Jen (aka Samantha’s former Mommy). “Well, we have the past boss fight her and I...I think we could use Samantha against him,” said Malcolm. “Samantha is not allowed to play any more hologames today. She had lost that privilege,” said Auntie Jen. Samantha gripped her stylus in her fist. “Well…” said Malcolm. “It’s just that...if she tries something, fails at it, is punished and is never allowed to try again, she will learn that she never should have tried in the first place. BUT...if she tries, fails, is punished, and then keeps trying until the team succeeds, she will learn to keep trying no matter what. “I thought that might be a better lesson.” Auntie Jen’s eyebrows slightly shifted. Samantha looked at her brother with tear stained eyes. “I mean, we’re willing to let her back in if she behaves. Aren't we?” he turned to the rest of the kids. “Let’s take a vote everyone. If you are willing to let her back in, raise your hand-” “STOP!” ordered Auntie Jen before any of the children could raise their hands. She knelt down in front of her former daughter. “Samantha,” she said, “I will give you two choices. You can sit here and study, or you can accept ten hard paddle spanks and go play.” Samantha mulled it over. She did sincerely want to play, also sitting on a sore bottom wasn’t really that fun. She looked to Jaydee for signs of forgiveness. Jaydee met Samantha’s gaze and shrugged, which Samantha took to mean: It’s up to you. “Yes,” said Samantha, “I’ll take my spanking.” Jen placed the half naked girl over her knee and Jaydee came over to hold her hands. “I am sorry,” she said in Robert’s direction. And then Jen’s paddle came down. She threw her head back and forth, she kicked her legs, she grasped Jaydee’s hands even harder. That paddle shot pain through her like a wind through a field of grain. After ten strokes, Jen let her up and she rubbed her bottom. Samantha was so quick to retreat into Jaydee’s arms and cry that she failed to notice that Jen had reached out to and withdrew so as not to interrupt the girls. Samantha apologized to Anthony and Robert again. And then they got back to the game. “Okay folks this is the goblin king here,” instructed Malcolm. “Natalie, first thing, I want you to put him under a sleep spell. And everybody leave him there. Don’t attack him. Anthony, I want you...here...that way your area taunts won’t wake him up. You will need to attract the little goblins that will spawn. Robert, you use your sunlight attack, it will hurt the goblins but not your brother. Anthony, if you get hit too hard I will heal you with my beneficent fungus distributor.” “Is that a gun that fires mushrooms?” asked Anthony. “Don’t laugh it works,” said Malcolm. “Samantha, Jaydee, Natalie, you are the strike squad,” the girls liked the sound of that. “When the Goblin queen rolls out she will try to heal the little goblins and wake up her hubby. Natalie, you are going to keep using your skril-arrows on her to interrupt her casting. Meanwhile, Jaydee is going to punch and kick her while Samantha shoots her. And I want that going on in...this corner...Jaydee, do NOT knock her towards the king. If one squad finishes, help the other squad. “Once all of those are down and we are left with the king, Anthony attacks first and alternate your attacks and your taunts. Once he wakes up he will start throwing fire barrels. I will keep you healed but I want everyone else to keep moving. Attack then fall back, repeat. Don’t clump up together, it will make it easier for him to hit multiple targets.” “Everybody ready?” asked Malcolm. “Good. Let’s fight!” Managing Penitential Parental Logistics (or PPL as it was known to individuals within the government favoring TLAs [Three Letter Acronyms]) had traditionally been a transitory position. Most individuals within the government would occupy it for one to two years and then move on to a higher paying job in another division. Contrary to that, the current manager, Lou Viglione, had held the position for thirty years and thus far had showed no desire of venturing outside of it. He had served as assistant manager for fifteen years to eleven different managers, it seemed a foregone conclusion to promote him to the position. His greatest defining characteristic was that he had never left any defining characteristic on any of his co workers. Not one individual had yet recalled any conversation he or she had with Mr. Viglione that did not involve work, and nothing else. The only emotions he had thus far shown was consternation at members of his staff for a failure, and annoyance at improper pronunciation of his name (it is vig-lee-oh-nay, not vig-li-own). Alison knocked on Mr. Viglione’s door. “Come in,” he called from his office. She entered. He looked about middle age, though his hair was still jet black with no signs of grey (she guessed he had used some of the common genetic modifications to affect this). He did seem quite thin, however. She took a seat. “I’m...Alison Martin,” she said. “Yes, you were on the schedule,” said Mr. Viglione not looking up from his console screen. “I have a passing familiarity with your record as a penitatas parent.” “I can’t do it anymore,” said Alison. Mr. Viglione stopped working on his console and made eye contact. “I can’t beat these children anymore. I’m used up, I’m spent. I can’t see them as criminals anymore. I just see victims and I am the victimizer. I fill them up with all the fear and all the desperation you want me to and I...I hear them. I hear their screams, their cries. They echo in my brain and I KNOW that I am worse than they ever were! I just can’t...” tears were coming “How can it be right to meet cruelty with cruelty?” “I don’t think that is all you have done,” said Mr. Viglione. He called up a variety of holographic documents from his desk. “In fact, by all accounts, the counselors and your children, you have gone above and beyond the call of duty to improve the quality of life of your sons and daughters. Often going far outside the parameters of hard time treatment.” “You...” Alison’s mouth was open with shock. “You knew...I...I thought you would stop me stop me.” “No we would not, because we need you,” said Mr. Viglione. “Mrs. Martin, if hard time were an easy thing to endure, you would have individuals committing crimes for a free rejuvenation. Hard time must be terrifying enough to discourage the general populace from crime, and to meet the populace’s demand for retribution. “BUT,” he continued, “The idea that you can keep an individual on a continuous cycle of constant physical abuse and have the subject NOT develop psychological problems is quite ridiculous. That is why we have hard time parents like you.” She was clearly surprised. “Inevitably, we are going to have hard time cases that are close to a psychotic break, or even suicide. That is when we send them to a parent like you. You are technically a hard time parent, but you take it easy on them for a bit. You make them believe they can overcome their problems, that they can make it to soft time. Alison Martin, I assure you, you are a vital cog in our system. We need you to keep these poor kids alive. “For example,” he called up Samantha’s file, “Samantha, formerly Samuel, was still repressing significant self esteem issues from her previous lack of literacy and a substandard set of biological parents. Mr. and Mrs. Cummings, on her previous cycle were such an improvement over them that she became emotionally dependant on them, to the exclusion of her school mates. Your other child, Malcolm, formerly Brandon, had a psychological profile that revealed a deep seated inferiority complex. We figured once we peeled back their egos a bunch of problems would spill out. And we needed a sympathetic hand to guide them. “Mrs. Martin, the simple fact of the matter is that no penny ever attained soft time status or became a completas while they were in the care of parents who did not believe that they could attain it. “The general populace likes to think that if they never have to see the system it must be working. But the system works because it has parents like you.” “So…” Alison finally spoke up, “The reason I’ve seen so many penitatas with prevalent emotional problems in the last twelve years…” “Is because we thought that you and your husband were the best ones to help them,” said Mr. Viglione. Alison visibly relaxed. “However, if you feel overwhelmed by your recent charges I suppose it would be appropriate to take a sabbatical from-” “Wait,” said Alison. “Maybe not...I need to think.” She rose. “I’m sorry I...I just need...I’m sorry I wasted your time-” “Not at all,” he said just before she closed the door behind her. Then she opened the door again. “Seriously, though, thank you for talking to me,” she said. “Feel free to make another appointment if you want to speak further,” he said. Then she left. Mr. Viglione went back to the case file he was reviewing, a five year old with persistent delusions of a creature tapping on her window. Alison contemplated things as her husband drove the family van out of the main city and towards their suburb with Talula and Ed in the back of the car. The revelation that Samantha and Jaydee had been gravitating towards each other and she had not even realized it had shaken her confidence in her perceptive powers. The most knowing thing was that Samantha was supposed to be the focus. Malcolm was supposed to help her learn how to relate to her peer group, and overcome the emotional dependency on her parents she fell into last cycle. But she had ended up focusing on him and making sure he and Natalie didn’t make any large mistakes. She had been wondering why Samantha had been content to leave Malcolm and Natalie alone (she anticipated at the girl to play least one bone headed prank on her brother and his girlfriend), but now looking back, she must have been exploiting her mother’s focus on getting friendlier with Jaydee. Come to think of it, wasn’t that the point? For Samantha to learn how to socialize. She supposed this would be okay, so long as Samantha doesn’t get possessive and needy and forego making other friends while clutching onto Jaydee so tight that she chases of Jaydee. It was no use teaching someone not to be dependent on their parents if they became dependent on a relationship. Of course one of the first things Alison had done after she found out that was go over Samantha’s audio logs of their visits again to make sure there were no red flags and there were none. She was pretty sure that she could handle two penny romances. Also it was rather convenient that her kids had partnered up with both the children of another family. It would make outings easier. Still if one of the couples broke up it would make things very awkward for the other side. Jet drove into the Cummings’ drive way and the four occupants left the car. Ed was first to the doorbell. “Hello, Francois,” said the house virtual intelligence. “It’s broken,” said Ed. Mrs. Cummings opened the door. “Aly, hey,” Mr. Cummings let them in. They came into the living room and all the children looked up from their game (they had finished the adventure and were allocating experience points). “So…” said Samantha. “What…” “Talula and Ed will be moving out of the district,” said Alison. Talula sat down on the couch. Ed sat cross legged on the floor. “We don’t know where but it will probably be by the end of the week.” “Talula,” said Malcolm. “Are you okay with this?” He sat down next to Talula and Natalie sat down on the other side of her. “Might as well,” said Talula. “Probably time to move on anyway.” “But we can visit,” said Aly. “Provided you promise to behave.” “Yes we can,” said Natalie. “I was talking to Talula,” said Aly. That got a small laugh out of the crowd. “Who is she?” Robert whispered to his brother. “I don’t know,” whispered Anthony, “I never met her.” “That’s the girl from next door that made a move on Malcolm,” whispered Jaydee. “What?” whispered Anthony. “I thought you said she had green hair. “She had green hair then,” whispered Jaydee. “Now I remember,” whispered Anthony. “I’ve seen her at the park.” “Oh, I have something for you,” said Natalie. She ran up the stairs. Talula looked at Malcolm, who shrugged. “Here you are,” said Natalie as she came down the stairs. “Give me your wrist.” Natalie wrapped a colorful charm bracelet around her. “This flower is you, this rainbow is me, this gear is Malcolm, and this red star is Samantha, and the green Chinese word for confidence is Jaydee. You can add more if you want.” “I…Natalie…thank you,” Talula seemed genuinely grateful. While the children talked about things, Mr. Cummings tapped Alison on the shoulder. “We need to talk about something,” he said and he guided her into the kitchen. Jennifer Cummings stood in the doorway, listening to the conversation of the adults but keeping an eye on the children “Samantha had a tantrum over the holo game,” said Mr. Cummings. “And you will note that she did not confess this to you upon your entry.” “Probably because she knew that she was about to receive news about Talula’s custody,” said Alison. “And felt that interjecting her problems over Talula’s problems would be rude.” “Well,” Mr. Cummings took a moment to recover, “We’ll just see if she tells you before you reach the car. “But there was something that bothered me about Malcolm. He tried to overturn a decision of the parents by voting among the assembled children.” “Um,” said Alison. “Maybe I should listen to the recording.” After they reviewed the audio from the incident, Alison spoke again. “So,” she said, “naturally you told them that the decisions of a parent are not subject to vote.” “Alison…” said Mr. Cummings, with the tone of a man who was picking up on the obvious hidden points he would not say in plain language, “it SHOULD go without saying in pennies. The mere fact that he ASSUMED it was a possibility… “I know this is his first cycle, but Alison,” he placed his hand upon her arm. “The moral absoluteness of the parents must be clearly and irrevocably established in penitatas children,” emphasized Mr. Cummings. Mrs. Cummings looked away. Alison felt she now had a new insight into Samantha’s emotional dependence on her previous mother and father. “I’m just worried,” said Mr. Cummings, “That you are being too easy on the boy, and also on Samantha. She’s a tough customer. It took us three years to properly break her.” “AND NOW I HAVE TO FIX HER!” was what Alison did NOT say. “Yes,” said Alison, “you are much better with the freshmen than I am.” She found confidence in Mr. Viglione’s words. “But I have much more experience in the hard time to soft time transition than you do. And I can say that I have managed to bond my children sufficiently to each other that my youngest is willing to risk to paddle to recover his sister from banishment. This is in keeping with my philosophy that the best way to demonstrate the value of compassion and empathy is to practice it upon the children. So they know not only the value of loyalty to one’s superiors, but also the compassion for those of equal or lesser status. And my fear that if they will confuse loyalty to the state with morality. And keep in mind that I will take any further pushing of this issue as an insult ot my capacity as a mother and given that all of our children are involved with each other, do you REALLY want this to devolve into a Montague/Capulet situation?” Mr. Cummings stared at her, wide eyed. Then he raised his hands. “I surrender,” he said. Jennifer Cummings laughed. “I’m too used to hard timers,” he confessed. “Our first penny was a Y-rep with six rapes to his name. Then there was Jenny, who captured a burglar with her MMA skills and kept him in her basement for two weeks doped up on erectile enhancers and narcotics while she used him for sex. These days, I have muggers and our…first Terrestrial visitors for centuries.” Mrs. Cummings sat down next to him. “When I first got this assignment,” he said. “I assumed I was dealing with corporate spies ready to do their boss’s bidding. Imagine my shock when I realized they had been infected just like my own children were…I…They didn’t know. It turned out they didn’t know they had been infected and sent here to die. “Do you know the reason they were sent here?” he asked Alison and Jennifer gripped his arm. “They knew about Pizgarlen’s dealings, not on our planet, I mean their more recent crimes against Earth and its new colonies. So Pizgarlen must have used them as disease carriers to conceal their crimes.” “Yes,” said Alison, “Malcolm mentioned something to that effect over dinner one night.” “I used to deal with monsters. Breaking real monsters,” said Mr. Cummings. “Now…” “I think I had better gather up my children,” Alison rose and stepped into the living room. The children had obviously reached a lull in conversation. Samantha stepped forward. “Mommy,” she said, “During the game…I got angry, and I yelled at Anthony and Robert…when I really should not have.” “Yes, I know,” said Alison. “Mr. and Mrs. Cummings just had a talk about it.” Samantha was still wearing only her shirt and her bottom was still pink and sore. Alison removed Samantha’s shirt leaving her naked but for her socks, shoes and hair ribbons. Samantha obeyed her programming and placed her hands on her head as she cried. Alison didn’t feel up for a full four step so she just turned the naked girl over her knee and started a hard hand spanking. By the third spank Samantha started to wail. With the fifth spank she was kicking her legs as if she was swimming. As Alison’s practiced hand brought rapid, unrelenting sting to Samantha’s bare bottom, the child wailed tearful apologies to the boys, to her mother, to Jaydee, to anyone. Alison held the wriggling, weeping child close to her, burning through her punishment as fast as she could. In the end, a naked Samantha lay sobbing over her mother’s lap. “Anthony, Robert, “said Alison. “Do you accept Samantha’s apology.” The boys looked up at the adult. “It is your decision,” said Alison. “I could go on, but if you think she has been punished enough, that will be the end.” The boys regarded each other before they spoke. “Yes,” said Anthony. “No,” said Robert. “Which one?” asked Alison. “Will you please explain?” “I mean,” said Anthony. “That yes she has been punished enough. “And I meant no, you don’t need to spank her more,” said Robert. Alison pulled a tearful Samantha into a hug. “It’s over now,” she promised the girl. “You’re a good girl again. My precious little child.” Samantha actually cried more. “Malcolm,” said Samantha, in the car on the way home. “Yes?” he asked. “Thank you for getting me back in,” she said. Malcolm tripped over his words and recovered. “Oh…I um…It’s alright,” he said. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was kicked out of a gaming guild for yelling at the tanks for not keeping the little guys off of me.” Alison gave Jet an excited look as he drove and Jet briefly returned it. “I had to realize that it was not the tanks’ fault,” said Malcolm. “I was actually doing some things that were messing up the tanks and bringing enemy aggression towards me.” “Ah,” said Samantha. She shifted in her car seat. Talula absentmindedly swayed on the swing. She and Ed had arrived two weeks ago, and she had started a new school last week. There was a decent park one block from her new apartment building. Diane Turner, her new mommy, thought she and Ed needed some fresh air. There was nothing wrong with her new mommy, or Hector, her new daddy. At least nothing she had seen yet. They gave her three square meals a day and a warm bed, said nice things, and if she gets her homework done she can watch holos. Talula just could not shake this feeling that she did not belong here. Was this normal? Could she do normal? Was she so messed up that she could not accept life without sex, drama and tragedy, even as a five year old? She sometimes wished that the machines would just rejuve her so young that she would forget everything, just let all the bad fade away and start over, free of it all. She barely even noticed Ed drawing artistic equations in the sandbox, or the green and blue haired asian teenage girl that sat down in the next swing. “Hey,” said the new girl in the accent of a descendant of North America. “I’m Hikari.” “Oh, hey,” Talula said without looking at her. “You’re our downstairs neighbor,” said Hikari. “We live two floors above you.” “Oh,” said Talula. “Are you okay?” asked Hikari. “Yeah,” said Talula “You don’t look okay,” said Hikari. Talula sighed. “Did my mom ask you to come over here?” asked Talula. She turned her head and saw mommy talking with another adult lady. “No,” said Hikari, “my boyfriend’s niece did.” “Wait. What?” Talula finally turned her head towards Hikari. She looked familiar. “Well, my boyfriend’s niece, Ally, sweet girl, wanted someone to check on you to see how you were adjusting.” “I...do I know you?” asked Talula. “Not directly,” said Hikari. “But before I was rejuved I did do a lot of porn.” Recognition struck Talula like a bolt of lightning. “You’re Hikari Tonbo,” Talula stated. “It’s Hikari Delacroix these days,” said Hikari. “Don’t tell your mom,” she added in a whisper. “No, no. I won’t.” promised Talula, finally smiling. “You wanna go back to my place and play Age of Legends? “Yes!” said Talula with enthusiasm.
 * SPANK!* WICKED! *SPANK!* WICKED LITTLE GIRL! *SPANK!*
 * SPANK!* EVERYTHING WE HAVE GIVEN YOU! *SPANK!* DO YOU WANT TO BE A PENNY?” *SPANK!* IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT!” *SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!* WELL! I’m just going to have to TREAT you like a penny, then!” *SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!* “I think you need and extra special punishment!!”
 * SNAP* Talula cried out through her gag as her mother applied the weapon. *SNAP* Samantha was terrified as a sadistic sneer slowly grew on Mrs. Setter’s face. Talula kicked and bucked against what Samantha knew to be an unbearable fire. One dozen terrifying strokes later, Mrs. Setter dropped the whip and sat down in the chair, forcing Talula onto her own lap, gripping the child’s upper arms.