The Misadventures of Samantha and Malcolm/Chapter 15 One thing after another

Chapter 15: One Thing After Another

The children were at school, Jet was in the office, the lark lark was on the wing, the snail was on the thorn, Alison was going through an old box of bondage gear, all was right with her world. She had been looking for an old appliance manual in the basement when she found one of her old “naughty” boxes. She remembered now that she had stored this stuff when they were first applying for a penny-parenting license. Here was a big black leather with holes. She tested it on her bottom with one good strike (it was all synthetic leather, real leather was much more expensive and requires more upkeep). And here was her older leather slave’s harness. It was an array of straps that bound her body in an aesthetically pleasing way while leaving her exposed in all the right places. Then she found a stainless steel ring gag with a black leather strap. Oh, how many times had she pleasured Jet while wearing this? Wait...Jet had never used a ring gag on her. So when was the last time that- She remembered now. This was the ring gag that Karl had used on her. She threw it across the room as if it were a diseased rat, then she hugged herself as the memories of that horrible man came flooding back to her. Karl was dead. There was no doubt in Alison’s mind that he was not dead. She had found him there in her bathroom, naked in the corner, the spent hypospray dangling from his right hand, sitting in a puddle of piss and shit. The paramedics she called proclaimed him to be dead. The cops confiscated a bunch of his possessions, which basically consisted of his clothes and the bondage equipment he brought in. After seeing the marks on her, they insisted that she get a full medical check to see if she was injured. She told them she had asked for it and that made them even more adamant that she see a doctor. The police officers had interviewed her after the doctor finished proclaiming her clean and healthy. Then they dropped the bombshell that Karl had stolen her identity and used the last of her savings to get the drugs he had just overdosed on, so they told her not to go anywhere, which she strongly suspected meant they thought it might be a murder with her as the suspect. Now all she had left to remember him was a hole in her bank account and his shit stain. He had used her. She had let him. And now she had to clean up his shit. At least he didn’t die on this bed, thought Alison. Then the cops would have had to take it with them as evidence…probably. The bed that had once belonged to her parents. The same bed where she was probably conceived. The same bed where she had fucked Karl, and served him. She lay on that bed now. Her life laid bare to her. All of her mistakes hovering over her like the sword of Damocles. When she had first rejuved, all the tragedies of her life had made her think of suicide. Her faith was the only thing that held her back. Now however, she was quite certain that God did not exist. She had to do something, anything, right now. She hauled the cleaner chemicals out from the sink and set to work with disposable rags cleaning up Karl’s shit stain. Nine years ago, she had awoken from cold sleep a twelve year old girl. She was told that she was now inoculated against the plague and she would soon meet her husband. Within hours, she was informed that her husband had committed suicide yesterday. They had dozens of useless apologies and counseling sessions. In the end she wound up in what the government was calling an ‘acclimation school,’ where rejuved citizens were going to be kept until they could function as adults. Most of the girls (and they were all girls) got really rowdy and soon enough the teachers were using their yard sticks on the students. She was not like the other students, she liked all the structure and conformed to regulations quickly. She felt that the punishments were fair, even when she had to receive the cane for her mistakes. Her roommate, Kailee recognized that Alison had a fetish for spanking, mostly from noticing that Alison always needed some masturbation time after her punishments. Before talking to Kailee about it, Alison was not even aware that it was not that rare, she had thought her fascination with spanking was a perversion to be ashamed of. Kailee was lonely too and she kept pushing and pushing and when Alison finally relented and let Kailee have her way she actually had a panic attack right in the middle. She told her shrink and Kailee had gotten in trouble and they had been separated which drove Alison even deeper into repression. It was only after she graduated that she started looking into the BDSM scene. There she met Thornton. He was a real master. A real professional dom. She became enthralled with him, obsessed with the submission, especially the state of “sub-space.” But Thornton was also a clinical psychiatrist and he recognized that Alison’s obsession was covering up some large emotional issues and that her alcohol intake was getting worse. He refused to go on with her until she got professional help. Enraged by what she perceived as rejection, Alison screamed obscenities at him and stormed out. Then she met Karl. Karl was all too willing to be her dom. Karl knew how to bind her, knew how to whip her, knew how to make her feel that she deserved it. Of course now she was thinking about all the warning signs she should have paid more attention to, but all she had wanted at the time was someone, something to take her away. Once all of the stain was gone she flushed the disposable rags down the toilet and washed her hands many times. Emotionally exhausted, she collapsed on the bed again and fell asleep. The home console chime woke her with the notification of an incoming call. “Send it to message,” she mumbled from the sheets. She did NOT want to talk to anyone right now. “Please repeat,” instructed the console. “Send it to MESSAGE,” Ally threw the covers off and shouted. As she reached over to pick up the pillow from where she had just thrown it her heart froze as she recognized the voice. “Alison,” said her supervisor, Tammy, “Enough is enough. You have failed to report in for your scheduled shift three times. You are dismissed.” The line went dead. Alison could have sworn that her scheduled day was tomorrow not today. She had failed…again. This was the third job she had lost in a year and a half. She started to weep. She had lost everything, all the money, all her friends, and now her job. Alison decided to kill herself. She’s had enough. She had tried, she had really given it her all. But it turned out that Life had been a lot harder than her father and her Catholic school had taught her. She had done nothing but try with all her might to make a life for herself for the past two years, and all that she’d learned was that she couldn’t do anything right. She was just a useless piece of shit, just like Karl had told her. Alison knew a lot about suicide (there was a lot of talk about it back in acclimation school). Jumping off a building was one of the best ways to make sure the job really got done right. She just wouldn’t leave a pretty looking corpse. She dressed in adequate clothes, grabbed her purse, and started down the stairs. She placed her hand on the knob…the same knob she’d heard turn when she was a child and she would rush to hug her father’s leg when he got home. She could still remember the smell of his business suit. She turned to look in the foyer, the artwork her mother had bought before she was born. “Last chance, God,” said Alison with doubt and derision. “If you don’t want me to die, put something in my way right now.” She opened the door to find a twelve year old boy about to press the bell. “Oh! Hello,” said the boy. He was blonde, dressed in the standard uniform for acclimation schools, and something about his face was familiar. He had the Medicalos mark on his hands. “I…”said Alison. “Is this still the Delacroix residence?” asked the boy. “It…yes?” she said. Delacroix was her maiden name. “And you are Alison?” asked the boy with rising trepidation in his voice. “Yes,” said Alison. “Alison,” said the boy, “I’m Raymond, your uncle.” Alison’s views on the existence of God took a sudden and profound turn. Alison knew what must have happened. This was just lying around somewhere in the house and when they were gathering up all of the bondage gear, Jet must have dropped it in, not knowing its origin. She could not blame him for his fault. It was not like she gave him an itemized list of things she did not want to see again. Alison breathed in, breathed out, composed herself and retrieved the gag using only her thumb and forefinger, touching it as little as possible. She deposited it in the garbage processor without a regret. Karl was a monster. To him, being a dom was just an extension of his chauvinism and self delusion, and she had let herself get too drunk on alcohol, repressed sexual desire, and survivor’s guilt to see it. She was so lucky to have found Jet. He was a true Master, all of his house rules and orders came from his genuine love for her and concern for her physical and emotional well being. And he was so good at domestic life: planning, cooking, cleaning, child rearing, the man shirked at nothing. A real man. HER real man. She sighed. Looking back, she would probably not have killed herself that day. She was just overwhelmed with emotion. Malcolm never felt like committing horrendous acts of violence so much as when he watched Natalie get punished. SPANK! Ms. Fesse brought the paddle down on Natalie’s naked bottom, growing redder by the stroke. SPANK! Tears fell to the floor by Ms. Fesse’s left foot as Natalie sobbed futile apologies. SPANK! Rinni was sniffling in front of the chalk board minus her skirt and panties with her hands on her head and a bright red bottom. SPANK! As the girl he loved cried out in anguish, Malcolm wanted to break both of Ms. Fesse’s arms and laugh at her as she flailed her mangled limbs about. SPANK! He wanted to break that paddle into splinters and bury them in her eyeballs. SPANK! He wanted to make Ms. Fesse scream for mercy that would never come. SPANK! “Natalie,” said the teacher to her weeping pupil, “This is the second math quiz you have failed to perform on this month.” Natalie buried her face in her hands. “If you do not receive at least a ninety five on your test next week, I will be forced to use the cane on you.” Natalie cried harder. It was a pop quiz. Malcolm was proud to have aced it, but now he had to watch a miserable punished Natalie cry with her bare red bottom to the class. He realized he had been biting the knuckle on his middle finger again. He removed his hand from his mouth and studied the bit marks again, they were deep and red. Then he turned his attention back to Ms. Fesse as she reinforced the date and materials for the test to the class. After the math period was over, Natalie and Rinni were allowed to cover their bottoms and return to their desks. The next period was science, specifically they were now covering the earliest developments in faster than light travel. Malcolm knew this subject forwards and backwards, so he found himself zoning out when Ms. Fesse would talk about something he already knew, particularly with his girlfriend quietly crying several desks over. He redoubled his focus. Ms. Fesse was talking about the first and aborted terraforming of Mars centuries back. Again it was a topic he knew intimately, and he could feel that she would be asking a question soon. There was something he wanted to try. If he really wanted to make sure the Ms. Fesse would call on him, he would not do it by raising his hand. Instead he turned his head towards Natalie, and acted as if she was the only thing he was interested in. Ms. Fesse’s voice was still the focus of his attention. “Now,” said Ms. Fesse, “if you have done your supplementary reading you will be able to tell me the name of the doctor that designed the process…Malcolm.” Ms. Fesse has scarcely pronounced the c in his name when Malcolm stood up straight and looked her right in the eye. “It was Dr. Shino Akagawa who was the lead on the ‘Demeter Project’ as it was called,” said Malcolm. Ms. Fesse put her hand upon her mouth, looked to her left and laughed while Malcolm continued. “Though Mars would resist every effort, her genetics work would later prove to be the foundation for adapting Terran flora for life on other planets, obviously named the Akagawa process. On the colony of-” “That’s enough Malcolm,” Ms. Fesse waved her hand and Malcolm took his seat. Ms. Fesse picked up, focusing on the events on Mars. Malcolm’s plan was to eat up precious seconds on the clock by giving long winded answers, thus cutting down on potential time for Ms. Fesse to find an excuse to punish them. It was a small victory, in fact it was miniscule, but it was a victory, and pennies don’t get those every day, the government would never allow it. Also it might train Ms. Fesse to never know if he was actually distracted or faking it. “I’m so sorry, Timothy,” said Alison, wincing as she heard the moaning of a teenager somewhere on the other end. “I really hope she gets better.” She terminated the call, and started another. Jet’s face came up on the view screen. “Yes, dear,” said Jet. “Bad news,” said Alison. “Gina has got the gorgian stomach flu.” “Oh,” Jet raised his hands, “that poor, poor child.” “I know,” said Alison, who rubbed her own stomach remembering her own bout with it several decades ago. Gorgian stomach flu was a disease indigenous to Pardisio that was continuing to prove resistant to inoculation, and individuals within six years of their last rejuvenation had proven dangerously vulnerable to it. The symptoms were intense fever, severe swelling of the tonsils, dizzy spells, vomiting, and nightmarish abdominal pains. The disease was so horrible that the Penny grade medication to treat the symptoms was formulated to taste like delicious strawberries, because anyone who has endured the affliction will testify that it is punishment enough. “Now we are out a sitter,” said Jet. “Well,” said Alison. “I had a proposal for that…” “Yes,” said Jet. “What if we called my uncle Ray?” asked Alison. “Oh,” said Jet, a touch of caution in his voice. “Well…wait, didn’t he just get rejuved?” “Three years ago,” said Alison. “He’s a fifteen year old ‘V.’” “Ah,” said Jet. “Well, are you sure we couldn’t get-” “Jet,” said Alison. “It will be fine. You will see.” Jet was quiet for a moment. “He’s not gonna bring by samples again, is he?” asked Jet. “What, do you want some?” asked Alison. “Alison!” said Jet. “Jet,” Alison eased her husband. “I trust him.” Jet was quiet for longer. “Okay,” said Jet. “It will be a test run.” The console chimed. “Oh, another call,” said Alison. “See you at home,” said Jet and he logged off. Alison accepted the next call. “Hello, Jen,” Alison said. “And this is for your mother,” said Ms. Fesse as she handed Natalie the dreaded red file. “Yes, Ma’am,” responded a despondent Natalie. The class proceeded out under the guidance of the walking rope. Malcolm was right behind Natalie, usually they would have one hand on the rope and hold each other’s hands, but now her other hand was preoccupied with the red file. Students were required to carry those things openly in the halls to add an extra touch of humiliation to their punishment. As Ms. Fesse’s class exited the school and the students were transferred back to their parents, Malcolm’s eyes never left Natalie. The tears forming in her eyes as she confessed her fault. Her mother’s look of disappointment. “Malcolm,” his own mother took up his hand. “Time to go.” It was an uneventful walk home and soon enough Alison had dispatched her children upstairs to work on their homework. As per usual, Malcolm had found the math homework to be insultingly simple and had sailed through it. He checked over his work and found, to his brief horror that the assignment was so simple that he did not notice an error he had made. He corrected it and went over it again, twice. When Malcolm was first rejuved, his first intellectual assessment his parents had given him had horrified him, even though there was no spanking on the line. Even when he concentrated his hardest he was still struggling to read. He knew all the letters, but trying to make sense of their order made his head hurt. His mathematics assessment terrified him even more, it used to be the numbers would dance about and solve themselves in his head, now he was straining to remember where they were in the original problem. Malcolm was terrified that his mental capacity was lost, never to return (remembering an urban legend that every so often a rejuvenation results in brain defects). It was the loss of muscle memory in his eyes, his parents told him. In time it would all come back to him. But Malcolm was not satisfied with that. Every spare moment he was allowed he spent on number drills. For a solid month it was almost his only recreation. Samantha got two spankings for interrupting his studies for the sole purpose of annoying him. In four weeks time he saw modest improvements. These encouraged him to continue his efforts. By the time Ms. Fesse came for his evaluation, he finished his Math test at 100% in record time. Unfortunately, since he had focused exclusively on mathematics his reading and comprehension scores came out average. Malcolm was content that his grades there would come in time, he was just relieved that the rejuve had not robbed him of his precious mental faculties. He was just getting ready to move on to English (though comparing the English that Paradisians speak to your modern English would be like comparing your modern English to American Colonial English) when his mother called down both children. “Kids,” called out Alison. “Come down here. We need to talk about things.” Alison sat both of her children down on the couch and stood over them. “I have to discuss two things with you. In the first, Gina has come down with the Gorgian flu,” said Alison. Both children grimaced. “Yes, I know,” said Alison. “So at the last minute my Uncle Ray said that he could fill in. “Now, my uncle Ray is my only living relative. I cherish him very deeply, and I expect you to give him an even greater amount of respect that you would give me and your father. Understand?” Both children nodded. “Now,” Alison continued, producing Samantha’s paddle. Samantha let out a low whine. “Ray, on principal, does not use corporal punishment on children. So I will be giving you your penny spanking after we are finished talking.” Samantha wringed her hands and whined a bit louder. “Now, while Ray will not punish you tonight, he will give me a full report of your behavior. And if he reports any naughty activity, I will spank you for it twice as hard tomorrow before you go to school. Understand?” Both children nodded again, this time saying: “Yes, Ma’am.” “Good,” said Alison. “Now the other matter.” Alison breathed in and sighed. “I know that you both can take this calmly.” Malcolm’s tension rose. “In response to Natalie’s red file, Mr. and Mrs. Cummings decided to cancel this weekend’s sleepover so that Natalie can study more.” Malcolm’s heart sank. He was so looking forward to playing PP&C with Natalie again. “When they told Natalie and Jaydee, Natalie threw a very bad tantrum.” Malcolm gasped. “And so, Mr. and Mrs. Cummings decided that Natalie will be studying under a three-per weekend, and furthermore neither Natalie nor Jaydee will be visiting for the rest of the month.” It was too much, Malcolm felt the childish rage, that eternal frustration of living in a world where he has no say, building but he had to fight it! “THAkk-DEEEEEEEE!” exclaimed Samantha, shocking the wrath out of Malcolm. She hit the couch cushion with her fist. “Yes, Samantha,” asked Alison, “Do you have something to say?” Samantha shook her head back and forth vigorously, took a deep breath, visibly calmed, tapped the cushion with her open hand, and folded her arms, turning her head away from her guardian. Malcolm held in his emotions as well. If Samantha can hold it, he told himself, I can hold it. “Very well,” said Alison, setting Samantha’s paddle on the floor. “Come here Samantha.” The poor girl obediently went to her mother for her 4-step. Malcolm was barely even conscious his sister being disrobed as she admitted her crimes. All his thoughts were on the nano-web. As Samantha’s bare bottom was balanced on Alison’s knee and she brought down the paddle, Malcolm mused on the unfairness of a mind control system that makes kids get punished, at least that was how he saw it. Now, the authorities claimed that without a nano-web the conflict between childish minds and adult thoughts would lead to problems, but Malcolm had so much trouble believing that since he had never actually seen these problems manifested. It was pretty easy from his perspective to see the nano-web as a sinister device the government was using to add another layer of brainwashing to their “loyalty to the establishment” program. What the web really felt like was…how would Malcolm describe it? Let’s see. If one with a nano-web were to concentrate with all of his focus, then he would be able to talk as if he were an adult and not an elementary school child. Or if he were simply absolutely calm, not exerting any emotions from himself. But if the wrong emotion comes into play his brain barely registered any thoughts beyond “WANT,” or “DON’T WANT!” It was as if the web caused cascade failures in his self control. If Malcolm had to pick one person in his class who was the best at resisting the web, it would be Raven. She was the most calm and collected of any child. Granted every so often she would laugh at something and of course who didn’t cry when they were getting a spanking, but on the whole she was usually a font of stoic logic. He had once asked her how she fought the nano-web, and she simply stated: “I’m not fighting it.” Samantha’s spanking was winding down. Malcolm had barely noticed. Alison hugged the crying girl tightly, reassured her that she would be a good girl one day, and let her put her panties back on. The door bell rang. “Oh,” said Alison, “that’s convenient.” She rose to get the door as Samantha tried to rub the sting out of her poor little bottom. “Hello, old flesh and blood!” exclaimed a young voice from outside. “Hello, you young blight upon the world,” answered Alison in a high-born British accent. “You’ve been reading the Wodehouse books I gave you!” exclaimed the boy. “Splendid!” The boy crossed into the living room. He was perhaps fifteen years old, with blonde hair, blue eyes and a V mark on his hands. His clothes were obviously expensive, fancy running shoes, new jeans, and an immaculate bold blue trench coat with gold buttons and the inside of the collar and lapels were red as was the storm patch. He set a medium size case of something down at the door way. “So,” said Ray as he regarded Samantha and Malcolm, “are these the dangerous felons you have been keeping society safe from?” “Children,” said Allison, “introduce yourselves to your Uncle Ray.” Malcolm stepped up first. “My name is Malcolm Martin,” he said offering his hand, palm down, to display his status, “First cycle of two to four ages six through twelve for criminal trespass.” “This for trespassing?” asked Ray “It was a government facility,” said Malcolm. “Oooooh, I see, they can’t have that,” said Ray. “And you are?” “I’m *sniff* Samantha Martin,” said Samantha, holding out her right hand as Malcolm had done and rubbing her bottom with her left, “second cycle of four to eight ages six to twelve for several counts of first degree assault and petty larceny.” “I-uh” Ray’s mood went down a notch, “see that my niece has been practicing upon you.” He gestured to Samantha’ backside and she nodded. “Kids,” said Alison. “Go upstairs and finish your homework, if you finish that, study for your test.” The children obeyed, and Alison set to instructing Ray about his tasks tonight. “Now the Omni-pence is preprogrammed for tonight’s meal,” said Alison. “Which shall occur promptly at 18:00. Groatma with glazed apples for desert. I’ve programmed in a BLT for you.” “Oh don’t do that,” said Ray. “Don’t do what,” asked Alison. “I can’t eat a BLT while two little kids are eating Groatma,” said Ray. “I’d feel like…like I was eating feast while little orphan Oliver eats gruel. Just give me the same stuff the kids are eating.” Alison wavered over the control panel, then reprogrammed it. “Okay, your choice,” she said with slight reluctance. “Ray,” said Jet, “what’s in the case?” “Oh,” said Ray as he set the case on the kitchen counter. “This is my mix kit.” Jet and Alison visibly tensed. “You are joking,” said Jet. “Nah,” said Ray opening the case revealing a drink shaker and accessories, along with different fruits and two bottles of ginger ale. “I’m gonna make cinderellas.” Jet and Alison Visibly relaxed. “Now,” said Jet. “I’m going to have to search that bag.” “Um,” said Ray with a touch of skepticism. “Okay, it’s your house.” He gave the empty bag to Jet. “You wanna search my coat too?” asked Ray in jest. “Good point,” said Jet. “I think I will.” “Is this some regulation that all sitters go through?” asked Ray, as he set his coat on the counter “No,” said Jet. “But given how much lee-way we are giving you, and your chosen profession, and that the review judge will most likely be a good deal more conservative than I am. If this night comes up at the end of the kid’s cycles I want it to be on record that we went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure there would be no problems tonight.” Ray seemed to accept that explanation. The process of selecting a babysitter or other temporary care subject was not as formal as other aspects of penitatas protocol. Most individuals selected a sitter who had taken the recommended six month course, but some others simply called on a trusted friend who understood what would be expected of him or her. Professional sitters who were also completas were more sought after than others, owing to their first hand knowledge of regulations and implements. Still if the sitter took the opportunity to abuse his or her position, the blame would also fall on the parents’ poor judgment. In these rare situations where their sitter chose to abstain from corporal punishment, the law made that small allowance under the condition of an extra punishment upon the return of the parents (which Alison had already made clear to the children). But sitters were generally expected to punish children on the spot, so calling in an abstainer when a qualified sitter was available was not done often. “Now,” said Ray to Alison. “The kids don’t have any allergies or emotional triggers I should know about, should I?” “They are both pretty hypersensitive to teasing,” said Alison. “If I had to choose, I’d say Samantha is more likely to have a tantrum. Malcolm is more quite most of the time, doesn’t speak unless spoken to. But Samantha likes to set him off, so end any disagreements before they begin. Moving on, after dinner, if homework is not finished send them back upstairs to finish it. Check it over once they are done. If there is time after that, the kids may have no more than one hour of holo-time.” “Ray,” said Jet, having finished his search. “One more thing.” He sat down to bring himself to eye level with the boy. “I know that you do not want to be the one to punish the children. But the protocols specifically state that serious offences should be punished on the spot. So I am asking you, would you be willing to use corporal punishment in the most extreme case of disobedience.” Ray seemed to mull it over. “Okay,” Ray raised his arms in surrender. “How about this. If I catch the kids playing with knives or running out in the street, or doing something else that that would seriously endanger them or someone else, THEN I will give them a spanking, but otherwise-” “That’s all I’m asking,” said Jet. “Just, worst case scenario.” “Okay,” said Ray. “Alright,” said Jet. Jet was in his dress uniform and Alison was in her most conservative black dress. They were going to a memorial for one of Jet’s superiors who had died while on duty (to be exact he had fallen off of a fire escape during a fire drill). “Now children,” Alison said as she knelt down in front of Samantha & Malcolm, “I’m telling you once again to be on your best behavior.” “Yes, Ma’am,” answered the children in unison. “Ray…Be good,” she said. She leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek and the parents were out the door. The three children went to the window to wave goodbye as the Martins drove away. “Okay, they’re gone,” said Ray. “Let’s play holos and eat candy until we’re sick.” Samantha and Malcolm looked at him, dumbfounded. “I’m joking!” he declared. “Upstairs with you,” he motioned them. “I may be permissive, but I am not reckless.” Ray watched over the kids as they finished their last subjects. As he watched Samantha shift and itch in her seat he suggested: “Hey, why don’t we get some nano-lotion on that bottom,” he walked out to the bathroom. Malcolm watched Samantha follow him in.” “Here’s the stuff,” he heard Ray say. “Um can you get this on yourself?” “I guess so,” said Samantha. “Very good,” said Ray. He walked out of the room. “Aren’t you going to put it on yourself?” asked Malcolm. “Young man,” said Ray. “I have few principles, but I stick to them. And one of my big ones is that I do not touch the bottoms of females half my age. In fact I think I should extend that rule to males half my age too. Let’s be all inclusive on that. Though I think technically it would be all exclusive.” The house alarm went off. “Unauthorized use of pharmaceuticals in progress,” said the home console. “WHAT!” asked Ray. “You forgot to take the parental lock off the lotion!” exclaimed Malcolm. “Oh for heaven’s sake!” Ray dashed into the bathroom. Malcolm followed. Samantha was standing with her skirt down and her panties around her ankles, clutching the nanolotion bottle in terror. “How do I work this thing,” Ray asked as he snatched the bottle out of the girl’s hand. “TELL THE COMUPTER!” said Malcolm over the mild alarm. “AUTHORIZE IT!” exclaimed Ray. The alarm ceased. “Accepted,” said the console. “It’s to keep us from healing without permission,” said Malcolm “Goodness gracious,” said Ray. As he went over their history homework, Ray pointed out a few inconsistencies with their text lesson and his own personal experience. “If your teacher disagrees, give her my number,” he wrote it down. “I was there, don’t tell me I don’t know.” Malcolm didn’t feel bold enough to include Ray’s suggestions. Once homework had finished, Ray congratulated the kids and led them down for dinner. “So, how is your school life?” he asked as he pushed the buttons on the omni-pence. “Um,” Malcolm thought about how to respond. “Having any problems with bullies?” Ray asked. “There are no bullies,” said Malcolm. “What?” asked Ray. “How did they manage that?” “Bullying a penny gets a bad punishment, even for Medicalos,” said Samantha. “Ah,” said Ray. “I guess the teachers don’t want someone moving in on their territory.” “But we don’t get to defend ourselves,” said Samantha. “If a hard timer is bullied, you are supposed to not fight back and find a teacher,” explained the girl. “If you fight back you get punished.” “What are they trying to teach you?” asked Ray. The dispenser chimed and Ray extracted three portions of groatma. “So if someone abuses you, you are supposed to let them,” asked Ray as he stirred his bowl of gook. “It’s more complicated than that,” said Malcolm. “you are only allowed to fight back if they are physically blocking you from going get a teacher, which would get them more punishments.” “Mmm,” said Ray, “Seems bad business not telling kids that they can stand up for themselves.” A chime on Ray sounded. He pulled back his sleeve to produce a beautiful silver commbrace. “Yes, Simone?” he said. “Are you at a secure terminal?” asked a stern woman’s voice from the commbrace. Malcolm thought it strange that the communication was audio only, it looked like the clearly expensive brace had holo-capacity. “No,” said Ray. “Why?” “Find one,” said the stern woman. “You need to see the state of your slave.” Malcolm thought that the two words ‘your slave’ were said in the same tone of voice that one might refer to an ill-mannered dog. Ray bounded into the living room. In moments the kids heard a new conversation. “What is it,” asked Ray”…What?” “Hikari slipped into the playroom and tried to access the Master Mold,” said the stern voice. “OH! You scared me,” said Ray. “I thought she had broken her leg or something.” Malcolm and Samantha hopped off of their seats and made their way in. They had only enough time to see on the holo-display an elder woman (in a pencil skirt dress and a bob-cut hair so neat it looked like a helmet) standing over a crying twelve year old Asian girl (dressed in a middle school uniform with bold blue hair with metallic silver streaks). Both the women were wearing collars. “I just wanted to see if-” said the girl. “Hold up!” said Ray. “Kids! Go upstairs! Up the stairs and into your room, now! NOW!” He shooed them up the stairs and into their room. But the pair simply could not resist listening from a crack at the door. “Hikari,” they heard Ray say. “I specifically told you that you were not to go to the playroom at all, and that the Master Mold would not work for any individual under the age of 18!” “What’s a master mold?” whispered Samantha. “It’s a gender specific pleasure suite,” whispered Malcolm. “It’s like a spank master, only sex instead of spanking!” Samantha put both hands over her mouth and blushed. “-changing the passcode,” they heard Ray continue in a voice full of dominant confidence. “Even I haven’t been in the playroom for three years. I cannot allow you to make such an egregious transgression. Now what did I promise you if you EVER attempted to gain access to the playroom before you were ready?” “I…don’t remember,” said Hikari. “I do,” said Simone. “A harsh paddling followed by a soapy water enema and corner time.” “Very well,” said Ray. “Then she is to stand in the corner until I return. I will deal with her more myself.” The children heard the girl let out a sob. “And Hikari…I am very disappointed in you.” Malcolm and Samantha could feel the weight of those words. They heard the girl sob more and the transmission cut out. They raced to their beds and sat on them hoping it would look like they were there the whole time. After a bit of a wait they heard Ray exclaim: “Oh! Right! Dinner! Kids, come down.” They obeyed. “Sorry about that,” said Ray as they pulled up to the table again. “Just some home drama. Nothing you need worry about.” “You have a slave?” asked Samantha excitedly. “Um…”Ray stammered. “I feel it necessary to state that our contract is a consensual one. This is not-” “Simone is your slave too,” said Malcolm. “What?” asked a surprised Ray. “I saw her collar, and your comm-brace is your master’s bracelet,” said Malcolm. Ray took a moment to compose his thoughts. “How do you know so much about this?” asked Ray. “It was in, ‘The Subjugation of Selene,’” said Malcolm. “I saw it in college.” “Yes!” exclaimed Ray. “It is a very popular work.” “Mom and Dad have a copy,” said Malcolm. “I’ve seen it, but haven’t touched it.” “That’s…” said Ray. “Malcolm, please don’t tell me anything else about my niece’s personal life.” “OH!” said Malcolm and he shut up. “You have TWO women serving you?” asked Samantha. “Not…exactly,” said Ray. “Technically, Simone currently has custody of both Hikari and myself. So we are her charges. When she rejuves in three years Simone will become sub to me again. Hold on.” He fiddled with his commbrace and pulled up a still holo of the three of them. Ray was a much older man, maybe in his late sixties in an immaculately tailored suit, proudly displaying his brace. On his right was Simone as a slightly younger woman, dressed in a tight pencil skirt and a corset dress that presented her ample cleavage to the world. She wore a black collar with a golden buckle. On his left was an older Hikari. Maybe in her late forties. She was dressed in a white sundress decorated with flowers and a wide hat. She wore an identical collar. “Now I love both my women,” said Ray. “So when the time came for rejuvenation we worked out a plan. I would rejuve first, so that I would end up the elder. Hikari is…I will put it plainly, Simone is the most mature of my women. So she was the natural choice to act as our ‘governess’ as she likes to be called. So Hikari would rejuve next, and in three years Simone will rejuve and I will be old enough to take command of the household again. Until then, our rank in the house is pretty much our ages. “So,” said Malcolm. “Even though you are the master, your slave gives you orders.” “Well,” said Ray, “Simone’s philosophy is that the best way she can serve me is by being the best governess that she can be.” He rubbed his bottom. “Whether I like it or not.” Both the children giggled. “Yes, she is quite quick with her favorite hair brush. She seizes every time I break a rule to bring it down on me.” “Bare bottom?” asked an excited Samantha. “…yes…” said Ray. “when she was an adult, Hikari was actually framing me for stuff to get me spanked. She thought it was funny. When she rejuved, I showed her just how hard a fifteen year old can spank.” “So you get to punish her,” said an excited Malcolm. “If it is a small matter, yes,” said Ray. “For bigger matters, Simone takes charge. Don’t get me wrong, it is still my house. Simone must ask my input before she makes any large decisions. And she must clear any punishment of Hikari with me” “Does Simone get spanked bare bottom if she’s naughty?” asked Malcolm. Ray paused for a moment. “You know, I think I may have told you too much already about our unique family dynamic,” said Ray. “Let’s have some drinks.” “What?” asked Malcolm and Samantha. “Fruit drinks,” elaborated Ray. He started extracting his mix kit. “So, how will you punish your slaves when you become the dom again?” asked Malcolm. “I will close this subject,” said Ray, “by assuring you there is no hanky-panky before the age of consent in my house.” “Malcolm wants to punish Natalie,” jeered Samantha. “Shut up!” said Malcolm. “Hey-hey-hey,” said Ray as he started squeezing the fruit. “No fighting. Who is this Natalie?” “She’s…” Malcolm stammered for a proper answer. "His giiiiiirl-frieeeeend," finished Samantha. "Oh," said Ray. "They...let pennies have girlfriends?" "It's..." said Malcolm, "complicated. Actually it’s simple. As long as we don’t do anything illegal and our lessons don’t suffer for it we can be together.” “Oh,” said Ray, “I didn’t know that.” He finished mixing the drinks and poured them out in individual glasses for the kids. Malcolm never had a Cinderella before, but he liked it. It was tangy and sweet. After drinks the three turned to the hologames. “Hold on,” said Ray at the console. “Let me link up my profile.” “Here’s my guy,” said Ray. His character was a richly dressed duelist armed with an ornate katana. "Pfff," said Malcolm, "great another katana addict." "WHAT was that boy?" demanded Ray. "Katanas were old news ten years ago," said Malcolm. Ray called up his character's stats and gave a smug little smirk. "A 48% critical chance?!" exclaimed Malcolm. "And when I use my Ten-Giri strike, that range doubles," said Ray. “How old is your family?” asked Malcolm. “Son,” said Ray, “I was there for the Rise of the Paladin. I’m first generation.” "You played the first saga?" asked Malcolm. "And every one since," said Ray. Malcolm genuflected to Ray. "My liege," said Malcolm. Malcolm sensed that Samantha didn’t know what they were talking about. “You see,” Malcolm told her as he rose, “If you finish one Age of Legend game you get to create a family name for yourself on the game network and every other game in the continuity you play you get to make a character with that last name and inheritance benefits. You know all those metal ingots I use to make your weapons? Those are from my inheritance.” "The more games you play," said Ray. "And the more you do in each, the bigger your inheritance in subsequent titles." Malcolm dialed in his and Samantha's characters and the adventure was underway. Ray's character was so overpowered he breezed through the adventure. Sam & Mal's characters, a pistolero and a blunderbuss artificer respectively, just sat on the sidelines of the fight and picked at the enemies while Ray fought through them. What Ray's character was also good at was talking his way past NPC encounters by using a lot of charisma buffs. After the episode was over, Ray gave all of the treasure to the kids. Said he didn't need it. Then he sent them up to get ready for bed. "Malcolm," said Ray as the pair exited the bathroom in their pyjamas. "Before bed, could I see you downstairs for a bit." Samantha and Malcolm regarded each other, shrugged, and Malcolm obeyed. they both took up seats in the living room. “Malcolm,” said Ray. “There is something I want to discuss with you. Now you said you have a girlfriend.” “Well,” Malcolm thought, “Samantha said it.” “Never mind who said it,” said Ray. “This girl-” “Natalie,” said Malcolm. “Okay, Natalie,” said Ray. “Do you love her?” “I…” Malcolm stammered. “Never mind that,” said Ray. “If you have any basic care for this girl, there is something you absolutely, positively must not do.” Malcolm was paying close attention. “You must not try to get physical with her until you are over the age of consent,” said Ray. Malcolm relaxed. He thought it would be something less obvious. “Well, duh,” said Malcolm. “I’m serious,” said Ray. “I would never do that!” insisted Malcolm. “I’m not saying you would,” said Ray. “And even then they,” he gestured to his parent’s bedroom, but he meant the penal system in general, “would never let us go unsupervised for two seconds.” “I’m not saying they would,” said Ray. “BUT, and I know this is a statistically distant possibility, IF you ever were to find yourselves alone and thinking: ‘hey, let’s experiment.’ Don’t. It will ruin everything. I am serious. It doesn’t matter if you are a kindern or a rejuve, children are not meant to have sex. I know…because I did.” Malcolm contained his shock and paid even closer attention. “It was after the plague. After we were let out of the big freeze everyone was desperate and emotional, and the whole world had gone MAD while we were away. I ended up in the mandatory acclimation school-I was third generation they had fixed the y-chromosome whatever by then-and acclimation school was governed by condescending adults and frustrated teenagers for monitors. We were terrified, we were desperate, and the teachers were not NEARLY as much help as they thought they were, not with the monitors undercutting their morality lessons with petty little games. I ended up crushing on this girl my age named…well never mind what her name is. Anyway, we didn’t believe a word the adults told us about the dangers of pre-age intercourse. Me and her decided to do it, not just because we liked each other, but as a private protest of the ‘new order.’ We found some privacy and we did it…and then we realized how wrong we were.” Ray took a moment to sigh and collect his thoughts before he continued. “We were older than you are now, Malcolm,” he continued. “But we were still foolish. After it was done, we couldn’t even look at each other anymore, because we knew that what we had done was wrong. We were so messed up with guilt we confessed everything and accepted our punishment, but even that was not enough. After that, I knew that…I was the type of person that WOULD cross a line that should NEVER be crossed, and I knew how horrible that was. For so long there was no joy in my life I was so haunted by guilt and I never spoke to her again. I tripled my self control for a bit and didn’t let myself break the rules for anything, but then I eased up again. But the point is...what I’m trying to say is.” Ray got up off of his seat, stood in front of Malcolm, placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders and got down to eye level with him. “Malcolm, if you ever have a choice, I can tell you for a fact that you will feel so much better saying just ‘no’ and waiting, than you will giving in. Do you believe me?” Malcolm nodded. “Very good.” Ray smiled. Malcolm had already resolved to wait until they were both over the age of consent for any kind of intercourse on principle alone (and because intercourse attempts did not go over well at parole hearings). With the additional information that it was in the best interest of both of their emotional wellbeings, his resolve was further cemented. “Yeah,” Ray sat down again. “The other reason it probably happened is because they weren’t using nano-webs yet.” “What?” asked Malcolm “The nano webs,” said Ray. “The reason they put them in.” “I…” said Malcolm, “…thought it was because people got hurt in industrial accidents caused by rejuves.” “That was a big reason,” said Ray. “But an aggravating reason was all the cases of rejuves having sex too early.” Malcolm was confused. “And most of them were having massive emotional problems for it. I mean when you mix a confused adult’s mind with the tendency of a child to not think about the consequences of his or her actions, you get someone that wants to grow up as fast as possible and that is not a good thing when it comes to sexuality.” “How come I’ve never heard about this?” asked Malcolm. “Because they are ashamed and they think you can’t handle it. When’s the last time a plague survivor talked to you like you weren’t a mental incompetent?” That small bit of cynicism was all Malcolm needed to hear to believe it. “Yeah, that version never makes it into the child graded history texts,” said Ray. “You’d have to go to some autobiographical works to find it.” It was true that Malcolm had never studied the history of the recovery act so thoroughly, at least not until he was a penny. “Malcolm,” said Ray, “If you didn’t have your nano-web, I can’t guarantee that you would not have tried to bad touch your Natalie by now. And I further cannot guarantee that you would have taken no for an answer.” Malcolm’s mind flashed to Talula. Did she do what she did because she did not have the same nano-web. Did she even have a nano-web? He didn't know. The horrible thought of forcing himself on Natalie entered his mind and he pushed it out with a promise of morality. Suddenly he was viewing the nano-web in a whole new way. “Alright, that’s enough scaring you,” said Ray. “Bedtime.” Ray rose gestured to the upstairs. Malcolm hopped off the couch and took hold of Ray’s right hand, both out of habitual dependence on adults and on his slightly shaken emotional state. “Oh, um…okay,” Ray was clearly not used to dealing with children, but he adjusted his grip to a reassuring grasp and helped Malcolm up the stairs and to brushing his teeth. It was 19:59 when both Malcolm and Samantha were in the bed. “Now is there a switch I have to push,” asked Ray as he examined the Delta inducing headboards. The clock struck 20:00 and the inducers activated automatically. “Oh,” said Ray as the children closed their eyes. “And that’s it.” Ray ended up just watching holos in the living room. Looking back, he guessed he should have told them how well behaved they were tonight before they went to sleep. He was REALLY glad he did not have to spank them. The idea of practicing corporal punishment on a helpless child disgusted him, and the possibility that he might enjoy it terrified him. To him spanking was so intimate, so...erotic. It was a raw expression of dominance upon another human. He had long given up on trying to convince the rest of Paradisio of his philosophy. Every time he had done so he found himself against a wall of: "Nonesense, it worked on me it will work on them," or similar statements. Or they would throw his chosen profession back in his face. Apparently the man who owned the largest pornographic holo-production company on the planet was unqualified to comment on child-rearing. He heard the car pull into the garage. They were a bit earlier than they had stated. He turned off the holo and stood ready at the door. Alison bounded in holding something to her face. "One side!" she ordered the boy. He obeyed in shock. Alison pulled the first aid kit from under the sink. Now Ray could see that she had a large bruise on her forehead. "What the-" Ray stammered. Jet walked in next to him. "What happened." "YOU EXPLAIN!" declared Alison in Jet's direction as she stormed towards the bathroom with the first aid kit in hand. "The grieving widow had perhaps one too many," explained Jet. "And then she accused one of my fellow officers of having an affair with the dearly departed, started a physical altercation, threw a half full 350 ml bottle of whisky at the accused, she ducked, and the bottle hit Alison instead." "Oh, sweet mercy," said Ray. "What happened on your end?" asked Jet. "I am pleased to report that we are all quite on the children's front," said Ray. "Anything you feel we should know about at?" asked Alison, returning with a freshly mended face. "Um..." Ray thought twice about tonight and suddenly remembered something. "Okay, in the interest of full disclosure... the night mostly went according to your plan, but then during dinner Simone, my governess called about my other girl Hikari, she had been rather naughty and the kids may have heard a few sentences," he could see their faces hardening. "Nothing explicit! But I did tell them about the hierarchy in our house and I stopped when I thought I was about to reveal too much." "What did you tell them, specifically?" asked Jet. Ray thought about the best way to word the answer. "I...just told them the circumstances that Hikari, or myself, would receive corporal punishment from Simone." "That's all?" asked Alison. Ray genuinely feared lying to her in this state. "And...I also took Malcolm aside so that I could warn him about the dangers of pre-age sex!" "What!?" asked both parents Ray felt worse than a child called to the principal's office as Jet and Alison reviewed the recording of the night in their bedroom. His cab had arrived on time and was waiting outside (on his dime) until Jet was ready to let him go. Ray was caught between feeling guilty that he might have overstepped his bounds and feeling indignant that he was under audio surveillance the whole time. Imagine, full time audio surveillance, that was just going over the line. Obedience through monitoring, it was straight out of Orwell. He had only wanted to help, of course now in hindsight he saw that talking to a six year old boy about sex, even a rejuve, was poor judgment. Of course he should have asked his niece's permission first. The idea that he had broken her trust was just pounding the guilt into him. Finally, Jet and Alison came downstairs. He stood over Ray. "Ray," said Jet, "While we have reviewed the tape and we do appreciate that you abstained from discussing anything explicit with the children-" Here it comes, thought Ray. "-in the future we want you to ask our consent before you talk about such things to the children. Understand?" Warm, sweet relief flowed over Ray. "Goodnight, Ray," said Jet. Alison led him to the door. "I only wanted to help," said Ray. "I know," Alison placed a reassuring hand around her uncle. "And I think you did more good than harm tonight." The next day was a Friday, and as Alison walked Samantha and Malcolm to school, they found themselves walking behind the Cummings family. Natalie was walking funny in addition to having her skirt pinned up with her pink pain-ties clearly covering up a spanked bottom. Every so often the Cummings twins would look back at the Martin children. Malcolm was caught between feeling sorry that she was looking at the three-per weekend, and being mad at her for throwing a tantrum that lost them visiting rights for the rest of the month. Also there was that nagging fear at the back of his mind that their relationship might cause her to act rashly in the future, and that it would not go over well at a parole hearing. Art period was boring as usual for Samantha. She found herself looking over her shoulder at Natalie's pain-tie clad bottom through the transparent smock. You know you have been here a while when you can tell the difference between a paddled bottom and a hairbrushed bottom by sight, and Aunt Jen (formerly Mommy) had used a paddle. Samantha peeked at Jaydee's bottom on her immediate right, no spanking for her. Samantha stared at Jaydee's bottom for a while, then Jaydee surprised her. "Psst," whispered Jaydee. Samantha tried to pretend she hadn't been staring. "Psst," Jaydee signaled Rinni, on Jaydee's left. "I need your help," she said to both girls. "What for?" asked Rinni. "We need to get Malcolm and Natalie alone together at recess," said Jaydee. "Yesterday, Natalie threw a tantrum-" "I know," said Samantha. "She threw a tantrum because mom wouldn't let her see Malcolm this weekend. Natalie wanted to tell Malcolm she LOVED him this weekend," whispered Jaydee. "Now are you with me or not?" "Well what could I do?" said Alison to Jen over the holo-viewer. "Jet's promotion is still up in the air. If I had gotten into a fight I would have fucked up all of that." "You did exactly the right thing," said Jen. "You got out of there without an incident. I hope I could do as much in your shoes." “I was THAT CLOSE, Jen,” continued Alison. “That close. It was the smell. Getting hit in the head was shock enough, but when that whiskey hit my nostrils every emotion, every impulse I thought I had dealt with came rushing back like it was just yesterday. One little push that was all I needed.” “But you DIDN'T!" insisted Jen.” “I know,” said Alison. “And having to smell all of my forbidden desires soaked into my dress on the ride home was just adding insult to injury.” “Ooooh,” said Jen. “Moving on, we need to talk more about Malcolm & Natalie.” Alison sighed. “I’ve thought about it more,” said Jen. “And if this is not the last tantrum that Natalie or Malcolm has, we may need to split them up.” Alison didn’t like it, but she knew Jen had a point. “I know,” Alison admitted. “Malcolm knows that if their penny rehabilitation suffers for their relationship, we would have to break them up, but I’ll have another talk with Malcolm when he gets home.” Alison genuinely hoped it did not come to that. Natalie had been so good for Malcolm. For his first months he was so closed off. He never spoke unless spoken to, never solicited anything without a lot of encouragement, the only time he showed any real emotion was when Samantha antagonized it out of him, and that was not good for either of them. She would take the kids to the park and Samantha would run off and play and Malcolm would hide behind trees. Natalie changed all that, for the first time he was active, he was asking questions, he was making requests, he’d had two epiphanies already, both thanks to her. Something hit the window. Someone shouted something angry that Alison did not hear clearly and a car sped up. “Jen hold on,” Alison left the call and stepped outside. She looked back and forth, then she noticed something under the window. It was a note wrapped around a rock. She unwrapped it, then dropped it in shock and terror. Upon the note was the old Pizgarlen logo. It was drawn in blood. The morning classes passed uneventfully and soon enough the pennies found themselves walking in line for the playground. As soon as Ms. Fesse let the children loose, Malcolm approached Natalie, and she sped off to take shelter in the sand box under the jungle gym. I guess she doesn't want to talk to me, thought Malcolm and he turned in the other direction. Then Rinni and Jaydee grabbed him. "Get under there and talk to her now!" Rinni insisted as they pushed him towards the jungle gym. "Wh-WHAT?" Malcolm asked as he was dragged towards Natalie. "You need to talk to her right now," insisted Jaydee. "We'll take care of the peanut gallery," said Rinni. They gave him one final shove towards Natalie and started encouraging the other students to clear out. Malcolm looked at Natalie, looking at him, leaning on one support of the jungle gym. He approached her. She didn't run. "I can't come this weekend" said Natalie. "I know," said Malcolm. "Or for the rest of the month," said Natalie. "I know," said Malcolm. There was a pause. "I was really looking forward to it." "I'M SORRY!" she said as she started pacing. "I WANTED IT TOO! And when she told me that I had lost it I just lost my head." She fell to her knees and sat on her ankles, then bounced back up with a yelp grabbing her bottom, the biters in her pain-ties doing their cruel work. Malcolm had a sudden inspiration. "Do you need to be punished more?" he asked. He was developing the idea in his head. "What?" asked Natalie. Malcolm bent down and placed both his hands on her cheeks. "Do you need me to punish you more?" He could feel hot blood filling her face. he leaned in close to her ear and whispered. "If you want me to, I will." "Yes," she finally whispered. He rose, pulling her up to her feet. Then he looked around for something with relative privacy. The best that he could manage was behind one tree. "Come with me," he said, taking her by her hand. Jaydee, Rinni, and Samantha watched from afar as Malcolm led Natalie away. "Okay," said Jaydee, "girls, spread out and make sure no one interrupts them." Rinni ran off in one direction but Samantha remained. "Why are we doing this?" asked Samantha. "Sam," whispered Jaydee, "The reason Natalie threw a tantrum was because she was going to tell Malcolm she loved him THIS weekend!" "Oooh," Samantha said as her eyes went wide with the revelation, then she took up a defensive position. Every moment that Malcolm spent with Natalie was a moment Samantha didn't have to put up with his annoying ass (also she liked pleasing Jaydee). "Now come here," said Malcolm once they were sufficiently obscured and he was finished planning. Natalie got close to him. He hugged her to him and she blushed again. "What are you going to do?" she asked. "Natalie," he said. "You will place your hands on your bottom." "But...the pain-ties," she said. "Natalie," he said, more firmly this time. "You will place your hands on your pain-ties." She took two deep breaths, then she did as he said. "Now," he continued, "When I say 'green' you will squeeze your bottom as hard as you can," she started breathing harder, "and when I say 'red' you will stop squeezing your bottom. When I say 'finished,' you may remove your hands from your bottom. Understand?" "Yes, sir." Natalie found some resolve. "Now...Green." Malcolm felt Natalie's body clench and she gritted her teeth. He couldn't see her grip, but he had worn bee-riefs enough to know the prickles she was sending through her punished flesh. "Red." She exhaled and rested her head on his shoulder. "Green" he ordered again, tightening his grip on her torso. She buried her face in his neck. He waited a little longer to say “Red.” She breathed deep. “Green. Red…Green. Red…Green.” He heard her whimper. “Red.” She relaxed again. “Last one, it will be longer.” She took his sailor collar into her teeth. “Green,” she bit in hard and he heard her whimpering again. Just a bit longer… “Red.” She leaned on him against the tree. “Finished.” She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck again. He knew what she needed to hear. “I forgive you, Punky.” She started crying, Malcolm found himself tearing up a bit. “My sweet Punky,” he said. “My precious Punky.” “Brandon,” she whispered. His heart raced at the sound of his name. His REAL name. “I love you.” Malcolm gasped. He took her face in his hands and brought her gently into eye contact. “I love you too,” he confessed. “I didn’t know how to say it. When to say it. If I should say it-” She kissed him. They held each other and closed their eyes, and for a precious few seconds, they were not prisoners. Across the yard, the three girls kept watch. “You know,” stated Rinni as Malcolm and Natalie lay down on their stomachs next to each other and held hands under the shade of the tree, “I’ve been planning ways to coax this confession out in the back of my head for weeks now, and then you go and just throw them together and the job is done.” “What were your plans about?” asked Jaydee. “One of them involved a trip to the science museum, no less than twenty four squirting flowers, and a plate of spaghetti. Another-” “Samantha!” called Ms. Fesse. The blonde y-rep obediently broke ranks with her friends and dashed to her teacher, who was standing next to a Mrs. Darksong who was flanked by two officers of the law. Samantha felt a flush of fear. “Where is your brother?” asked a clearly distraught Ms. Fesse. Samantha had no choice but to point out the tree. “You remember the last time we were under this tree?” asked Natalie. “Yes,” Malcolm admitted, “And what came after,” he rubbed his bottom. “Have you told Jaydee and Anthony yet?” “No,” Natalie sighed. “I just can’t find…I feel like I should tell them together at the same time.” “Natalie,” said Malcolm, “The longer you wait the harder it will be.” These moral quandaries always seemed so clear when you were solving them for other people, not yourself. “You will tell them this Saturday,” he ordered. “Malcolm Martin,” Mrs. Darksong’s voice surprised the pair of them. Suddenly Malcolm feared that his pain-tie punishment had broken some rules. They both rose to see Mrs. Darksong coming towards them with two officers. One of the officers was carrying Samantha. “Malcolm,” said Msr. Darksong, “we need you to leave with us now.” She held out her hand. This was not a school punishment, this was clearly something else. Malcolm looked at Natalie, he squeezed her hand goodbye, she squeezed back. He let go and accepted Mrs. Darksong’s hand. She picked up the boy into a matronly embrace and carried him away. As Malcolm looked over her shoulder, he saw Ms. Fesse gather Natalie, Jaydee, and Rinni, and bend down to explain something to them. Malcolm and Samantha were secured into the back seats a MPV (or mini-van as it was known in early 21st century earth). The officers sat in the front seats and Mrs. Darksong sat in the middle. The vehicle powered up and pulled out of the school and Mrs. Darksong swiveled her seat around to talk to the children after activating a privacy screen between them and the officers. “Samantha, Malcolm, I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you,” she took up a tablet. “It appears that someone has posted your address on a hyper-conservative forum on the net, and claimed that the pennies living inside were the captured agents of Pizgarlen.” Malcolm was in shock. Samantha slammed both her fists into the arms of her chair and gritted her teeth to hold back a scream. “You may feel free to vocalize your feelings,” said Mrs. Darksong. “It would be entirely appropriate under the circumstances.” Samantha obeyed with a primal scream, followed by a barely coherent but profanity free rant on the unfairness of the situation. Eventually, Mrs. Darksong reached out to place a reassuring hand on the girl’s hands and Samantha breathed deep, visibly calmed and sat back in her seat, dejected. “Malcolm,” said the woman, “Do you have anything to say?” The boy, who had been absent-mindedly staring out the window, turned to her. “What good would it do?” he asked. She reached out and put her other hand on Malcolm’s hand. “I’m so sorry, both of you. But we’re going to do everything we can to protect you.” The vehicle was moving into the more urban zones. “For now, both you and your parents will be moved to one of the secure apartments we keep in the Corrections building for just such occasions.” “For how long?” asked Malcolm. “Several weeks, perhaps,” said Mrs. Darksong. “I hope not longer, but it could be months as well.” As the councilor went on to explain how their school lessons would be handled, Malcolm stopped listening and just stared out the window. Minutes ago he had told a girl he loved her for the first time in his life, now he was carried away from her, and it wasn’t either of their faults. It was so easy to imagine that God was laughing at him.
 * Gulp* “There’s a long list of things that are bad business,” said Malcolm.

TO BE CONTINUED…