The Misadventures of Samantha and Malcolm/Chapter 16 Revelations

Chapter 16: Revelations The Corrections building was much as Malcolm remembered it from his last visit. A simple, rectangular building with mirrored windows and a covered bridge to the Hall of Justice across the street. Malcolm did not want to remember the last two times he was here. The first was for his rejuve, the second was for his ill-fated trip to the R&D department. The car pulled up to the curb and Mrs. Darksong opened the door. “Kids!” said Alison as she dashed into the van and hastily undid the seatbelts to pull her children into a loving embrace. She had been waiting at the front door. “You’re both okay?” she asked. “No one approached you? No one threatened you?” “No,” said a dejected Malcolm. “No,” said an irritated Samantha. “There were no incidents, Mrs. Martin,” said Mrs. Darksong. “I explained everything and they took it without incident.” “Okay, let’s get you inside,” Alison hoisted up Malcolm and the male officer that was not driving gathered up Samantha and rushed them through the door. “Thank you, Sonya!” she cried out at the door. Some folks looked twice as Alison rushed past, but once they were inside the elevator, she calmed down. “We have three apartments on the fourth floor for just such an occasion,” said the officer. “If you have any questions or requests, you can ask Amelia.” The door opened. “I am the Corrections Integrated A.I.,” said a computerized, feminine voice from the walls. “Amelia handles most of the clerical and janitorial tasks for the building,” explained the officer. They had come to the door. Alison laid her hand upon the entry panel and the door slid away. “It’s beige,” said Samantha. It was a perfectly sound observation. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all beige. The furniture was a slightly different shade of beige. The appliances were all separate shades of beige. The room itself had a living area on the right with a couch, two big chairs, a holo interface table and a wall projection unit. On the left side was a modest kitchen and a table with four chairs. There was one door leading to a children’s bathroom and two doors leading to adult’s and children’s bedroom. The adult’s bathroom door was in the adult’s bathroom. “I am sorry if the current color scheme does not meet your expectations,” said Amelia. This time she had manifested as a six inch high holographic avatar on the coffee table. She looked like a brunette in her late thirties with her hair in a tight bun, wearing a conservative jacket and skirt combination, and carrying a tablet console. “I have had the cleaning drones wash and sterilize the apartment to specifications. The fridge is fully stocked with penny grade foods but I have not yet sent anything for regular foodstuffs. If you would please make a list of groceries I can easily dispatch a messenger drone to acquire them.” “Yes I can- OH!” said Alison. “I was in such a rush to get out I forgot all the implements!” Samantha & Malcolm looked at each other in hope. “I can have suitable replacements sent up.” said Amelia. Samantha & Malcolm hung their heads. The children’s room had cabinets stocked with regulation clothes in their sizes. Two beige beds and two holo-desks. Out the window Malcolm saw a ten by ten square pattern with each square being about one meter wide in the middle of a court yard. He was surprised when, from the cracks between the squares, mirrored walls arose in a maze pattern. “What is that?” asked Malcolm. “It was an ascetic choice on the part of the architect,” said Amelia as her avatar manifested on one of the desks. “The sculpture outside is meant to be a metaphor for the penal system: A journey of self reflection.” Malcolm thought that it was a bit of an oversight not to include the anguished screams of children in the metaphor. “Your text books are available for display,” the avatar tapped the desk with her shoe and an image of a book’s page came up. “Later today your teacher will be sending you the first of your absentee assignments.” Samantha groaned. “Should you have any more questions, feel free to ask. I will only enter your room if called for.” “Wait, ‘enter?’” asked Malcolm. “When I say ‘enter,’ I mean begin manifesting an active presence,” explained the computer. “Privacy laws restrict me from monitoring you without the consent of your parents.” “KIDS!” called Jet’s voice. The children rushed out and hugged their newly arrived father. “Oh,” Jet embraced them both. “It is really good to see you. How much do you know?” “Someone accused us of being Pizgarlen,” stated Malcolm. “WHO WAS IT!” demanded Samantha. “Sit down,” said Jet. He guided his charges onto the couch. “We don’t yet know who accused you. What we do know is that someone on the ‘net who claimed they had an inside source claimed that the pizgarlen agents were living at our address. We have no idea how many people believed him. But someone threw a threatening note at our house. So until we are reasonably sure that no stalkers are going to be knocking on our door, we are going to be staying here.” He knelt down and embraced his children. “I’m sorry, I know this is very hard for you,” he eased his hug. “But I have to ask you: Did either of you say anything to someone that might have lead them to believe that we DID have them living at our house? Were you ever approached by ANYONE that asked you that kind of question.” “No,” said both children. “Think hard,” said Jet. Malcolm thought about it. Had he done something? Had he made a mistake somewhere? He thought he had been careful. After learning that he was in a class with rejuves from off world, his parents had warned him that their privacy had to be protected. Malcolm had debated politics enough in college to know that there were many people who were still advocating armed aggression against Earth, and he shuddered to think what they would do to a child of the Mother planet. After he had started crushing on Natalie he had been even more cautious about talking about it. But he didn’t see how he possibly could have. He never talked to anyone from his home town anymore. His online gaming guild had him locked out until he made soft time, he hadn’t even told his parents (his real parents) where Natalie was from. The few outgoing messages he had sent had gone through his current parents first. Any time he was out in public, people would see the marks on his hands and either avoid eye contact or jeer. He couldn’t think of anything. “Talula!” said Samantha. “What?” asked Jet. “Remember? We were at the park and she asked if anyone would want to know where they lived,” said Samantha. “Right,” said Malcolm. “But we told her not to! We told her it would be reckless endangerment.” “You did?” said Jet. “We told her NOT TO,” insisted Malcolm. “We told her it would be dangerous. We told her it would be a crime.” He really hoped Talula had not gotten herself in more trouble. But he also did not credit her with a great amount of self-restraint. “Okay, anything else?” he asked. The children could think of nothing. Jet looked at his wife. “Let’s watch some holos,” he suggested. Calling up the department’s list of public domain media. He selected an antique he was familiar with called, ‘Kiki’s Delivery Service.’ Once the children were enthralled with the story, the parents moved into their room. “What happened?” asked Alison. “Alright, keep this to yourself for now,” said Jet. Officially Jet was not supposed to divulge details of ongoing investigations to anyone, but confiding in one’s spouse was common among the police. “Our address was posted on a hyper conservationist forum,” said Jet. The conservationists were the conservative party on Paradiso. They advocated maintaining autonomy from the Earth Federation and counted many famous survivors among their number. The hyper-conservationists, however, were a small percentage who advocated military action against the Earth itself. “We have found the car that threw the rock. The driver is under arrest for assault. A 16 year old volunteras. He was a survivor who watched his sister die.” Alison sighed. “Who actually accused us?” asked Alison. “We don’t know yet,” said Jet. “The post was deleted. All we have so far is an avatar name: WakeUpSheep64. We’re still waiting for a response from the site owner.” “Well, how long will we be here?” demanded Alison. “Hard to say,” said Jet. “We have no idea how many people might have copied the address before the post was deleted. We have our house under physical and cyber surveillance. If we get any more threats, we can trace them.” “Will we have to move?” asked Alison. Jet sighed. “Probably not,” he said. “One more thing. I have been moved temporarily to desk duty until this is over.” Alison hugged her husband. “So we have to stay here and you will be on a desk until we can prove to a bunch of random citizens that an asshole on the internet was wrong?” she asked. “Basically,” said Jet. Alison let out a whine. Soon enough Samantha and Malcolm had their absentee assignments (which Malcolm thought were harder than their normal homework). They made some progress and then it was time for dinner, during which their dad went over the new rules for their protective custody, which he read off of a list. “Neither of you two will be leaving the corrections grounds, nor are you to be unescorted anywhere outside this apartment, same as at home. Alison, while you may leave the grounds, I’m afraid that you also will not be going anywhere unescorted, and you will have to arrange for a sitter for the children. They have a list of approved sitters here. You may send basic texts and holo-calls as usual, but they will all be monitored. Furthermore, you both should know that if anyone tries to entice you to leave the grounds that is not a cop or an officer of the court, you need to tell someone right away...” Most of the rest of the list was a repetition of all of the advice the penny regulation book in their room had given them about interacting with strangers. Malcolm found himself drifting in and out of listening. As he absentmindedly spooned the food into his mouth, Natalie was the only thing on his mind. Once dinner was over, he tugged on his father’s belt. “Dad,” said Malcolm. “Can I talk to you...in private?” “Oh, sure,” said Jet. The father quickly moved his son into the children’s bedroom. He sat Malcolm down on his bed and sat himself down on Samantha’s bed. “What do you want to talk about?” asked Dad. “Well...” said Malcolm. “Everyone keeps telling me that I have to wait until Natalie and myself are ready before we...start...touching...like that. And I understand that, and I am ready to go with that. “It is just that...They keep saying I have to fight my urges...but, I’m not having any. When I’m with her, I don’t want to touch her like that. We just talk or hold hands or run around the yard, or play holo games. We kiss sometimes, but that is it.” “So...” said Jet, “are you having those feelings for someone else?” “No,” said Malcolm. “My question is: Am I supposed to be having urges?” “Oh,” said Jet (for a moment he thought Malcolm was getting ready to come out of the closet). “Is that all? “Malcolm, hormones kick in at different ages. So if you are not feeling any of the adolescent urges at the age of six, that is not strange at all. This is your first rejuve so you haven’t had this first hand, but I have. In general it is around age ten or eleven that you start really thinking about girls that way.” “Ohhhhh,” said Malcolm. “And make no mistake Malcolm,” said Jet. “When it comes in, it will be a FLOOD. That is why we are telling you all this now. We are shoring up the dam.” “Oh, I see,” Malcolm nodded. The men returned to the kitchen and did the dishes together. “Okay, kids,” said Jet. “Time for bed.” It occurred to Malcolm that in all of the excitement, his parents had forget to give him his penny spanking. His brief joy was interrupted by the idea of a worse punishment down the line. “Um...” said Malcolm. “Yes?” asked Jet. Malcolm found it hard to get the words out. “You...forgot my 4 step,” said Malcolm. Jet looked to Allison, she shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said. Malcolm’s heart rose. “I’ll do it in the morning.” His heart sank. SPANK! Much to the children’s regret, a fresh batch of punishment implements had been fabricated and distributed to the room while they slept. SPANK! The bright red paddle came down on his bare bottom, causing him to buck backwards against his mother’s hold. He was wearing nothing but his pyjama top, and so was Samantha as she looked on with both her hands over her privates. SPANK! She was not spanking as hard as she usually did, but he was not about to inform her of that. SPANK! He gritted his teeth. He hoped he would be able to suffer through this spanking without crying. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! A fast flurry of harder blows chased out that hope, along with a long wail. “MAAAMAAAAAA!” he cried. “Okay, you’re done,” she helped him off of her lap. “Corner,” she half heartedly gestured towards the corner with the paddle. Malcolm took up the usual position in it. “Samantha,” she tapped her lap with the paddle, “now.” It was clear she had not slept well. She hauled the poor girl up over her lap and started with six hard spanks, then plateaued off with a steady rhythm of lighter spanks, finishing off with three hard ones. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Samantha was already crying by the finale. Alison let her off her lap. “Go,” she gestured to the children's room with the paddle. “Get dressed.” Both the children retreated to their room. Malcolm had both hands over his privates to hide another stiffy. He swore, there must be some component in the nano-web that caused his penis to get stiff at random intervals, because he was not turned on at ALL by this. Probably some policy about mandatory embarrassment. Once they both had their clothes on (regulation school sailor suits) Samantha started to move out the door. “Wait,” said Malcolm. “What are you doing?” “Quantum Rangers season finale,” said Samantha. She walked out Malcolm reached out to stop her too late. With Mom the way she was, he was sure that merely asking for permission to watch holos was out of the question. He listened next to the door. “Mommy,” said Samantha, politely. “May we please watch the finale of Quantum Rangers. You promised...” Here it comes, thought Malcolm. “Sure,” said Mommy. Malcolm was shocked. He was sure that Mom would have responded with aggression. At least that was the way his biological mother would have responded. When his real mommy would get angry about something there was no point in asking permission for anything, the answer was always ‘no,’ and you were also in danger of getting a drawn out lecture on why whatever he was asking for was going to be detrimental to his development, and the list of things she thought were detrimental to his development seemed to grow larger every day. Malcolm heard the theme song of the show and decided to be grateful for the privacy. Maybe he could work on getting this damned stiffy down. ...Or... How long had it been since he masturbated? Back when he was a free man he was yanking in three times a day. He hadn’t actually pleasured himself since his rejuve. Might as well, he thought, in the spirit of experimentation. The door was closed, Malcolm crawled head first under the covers. He regreted that he didn’t have any pronographic material but after so long he could probably suffice on fantasy alone. He reached into his pants, it felt strange to touch himself as a child. He tried to rely on his old scenarios: well appointed bedrooms in a medieval castle, scantily clad serving girls bowing before their lord...wasn’t working...next fantasy...sorority lesbians...caught by the house mother...she gives them a private punishment with...okay this was not working. It was his penis. He had a six year old’s penis, it did not feel natural. He tried to give it one more go. This time the fantasy was three bondage lesbians in their penthouse apartment: They have a special room where- Natalie popped into his head. There she was, they were embracing. She said she loved him. The thought of her voice sent a new warmth through him. He placed a hand under her skirt- Ew, he thought, this is wrong. Even in my head this is wrong. He pulled his hand out of his pants. He was done with this. It was not working. His boner was dead. Just thinking about this made him feel gross and guilty. No, thank you. Uncle Ray was right, this is wrong. He fixed his pants and kicked the covers off of him and just lay on his stomach with his chin on his hands. He wanted Natalie. ‘The greatest thing you will ever learn was just to love and be loved in return.’ That was how the song went. Now he knew it was true. All of those love songs made sense now. He wanted Natalie. He ached for her warmth. But in the back of his head was that nagging fear: What if one day I try to have sex with her and I ruin everything? “Amelia,” said Malcolm as he got up and remade the bed. “Are you prevented from talking to me about anything?” “My personal judgment directs me to postulate that there are a variety of sensitive topics that you do not need to know about, and there are redundant restrictions upon my actions that prevent me from divulging other such material to an individual of your age, rejuve classification, and clearance level,” said the computer. “I have a clearance level?” asked Malcolm as he lay down on the bed on his tummy with his head on his chin again. “Every citizen has one,” said Amelia as she appeared, six inches high, upon his desk. “Your level is currently zero.” The lowest one, thought Malcolm. Of course. “Can I ask you about juvenile crime statistics?” asked Malcolm. “Provided the data you request does not violate the privacy of any individual or any data the state deems classified, you may.” “How often are rejuves convicted of sexual misdemeanors?” he asked. Rape would be a felony, but mutually consensual sexual contact between rejuves without a pre-established consensual erotic play contract was a misdemeanor. “An average of eight per month,” said Amelia. “Is that locally or planet wide?” asked Malcolm. “Globally,” said the computer. “How old are they, usually?” said Malcolm. “Ninety percent of the incidents occur after the age of nine,” said Amelia. “With seventy percent occurring after the age of twelve. Though the numbers may be larger than my records.” “What?” said Malcolm. “Why is that.” “The general consensus among most rejuve parents seems to be that the first incident of such conduct is handled inside their own house without the intervention of the courts. Other households may permit such activities. Also, some prosecuting attorneys tend to refrain from prosecuting cases where the accused are very close to the age of consent.” The human element, thought Malcolm. “How often do penitatas commit this kind of crime?” asked Malcolm. “Five percent of the incidents involve a penitatas classed child,” said Amelia. “Fifteen percent involve a completas.” “Of course,” said Malcolm. “We have more to lose.” I can do this, thought Malcolm. I can handle treating her right. All Malcolm had to do was keep his head about himself. That was his job. It is a man’s job to keep his lust in check. After all men had much stronger lusts than women (at least that was Malcolm’s understanding of the matter). He heard his mother shriek in horror and he dashed out the door. Five minutes earlier... The Quantum Rangers season finale was an hour long special and Alison had promised that if Samantha made a good grade on that week’s test she would be able to watch the whole thing (also because Alison still had a crush on Kenji Kugashira, the kei bishonen playing Quantum Red). As Lord Darkantuit jeered at the imprisoned Princess Paradoxa, the holo-call alarm rang. Alison paused the show (much to Samantha’s silent annoyance). “Hello,” she said. “ALLY!” exclaimed Mrs. McDonald. “Your house is on John Fields’ show!” “What?” asked Alison. It was too preposterous. “TURN IT ON!” commanded Mrs. McDonald. Alison ordered Amelia to find the program. Sure enough, there was a holo of her back yard, there were four six year old children whose heads were covered with censor boxes, three girls and one boy, playing in grass. “-playing with government subsidised toys,” said a condescending voice. the image of the house evaporated into the image of a man in his fifties trying to use a three figure suit to cover up a slowly sagging body. “We finally got them, folks,” said John Fields. “No moral ambiguity here. Living proof that not only is Pizgarlen still active, but that they are still TRYING TO KILL US ALL!” he finished with murderous rage. “THEY ARE OUT THERE FOLKS! AND THEY WANT ALL OF US DEAD! And we are treating them-” HOW, Alison’s mouth was wide open in astonishment, could he even think that my children are them? The real agents were rejuved to THREE, not six. “-inside sources assure me,” Mr. Fields continued, “that the agents were regressed to six INSTEAD of three and in some cases NOT y-repressed, just to throw off the scent of any righteous citizens.” Alison shrieked in horror. Malcolm rushed out of his room. “What happened” he said, then he saw Mr. Fields on the holo. “Oh! What did he say now?” “He just flashed a holo of us, Jaydee, and your Natalie playing in the yard and said we were Pizgarlen in disguise!” yelled Samantha. Malcolm’s eyes went wide, his skin grew red, his mouth twisted into a snarl. “Mommy,” he said, on the verge of explosion, “may I swear?” Alison had, up until that question been frozen in rage. She turned to the boy, seemed to think about it and said: “Sure.” “WHAT FUCKING IDIOT TOLD ‘AT WORTLESS FUCKING SHITSTAIN-FUCK THAT FUCKIN-FUCKED UP FUCKSTICK ‘TILL THE FUKKIN’ HANDLE BREAKS OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFF!” Malcolm took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. “I should have disconnected much sooner,” said Mrs. McDonald. “YOU DIN’ HEAR NUTIN’!” shouted Alison and dropped the call. “May I swear too?” asked an excited Samantha. Alison weighed the matter and decided not to deny her daughter something her son had. “Make it quick,” said Alison. Samantha jumped up onto the couch. “BUGGER THAT BLOATED BASTARD AND THE BITCH THAT BORE HIM!” she screamed. She fell backwards onto the couch cushions. “Oh that felt good,” she said. “Like licking berry flavored pussy!” Alison and Malcolm both gasped at the last comment. “Too far?” asked Samantha. “Yes,” said Alison and Malcolm simultaneously. “No more,” said Alison. “And DON’T tell your father I let you do that.” “Yes, ma’am,” said the kids. By this point everyone had calmed down some. “Who is this Fields guy, anyway?” asked Samantha. “Oh! Where have you been for the last three years?” asked Malcolm. Samantha gave him a sour look. “Okay, stupid question,” admitted Malcolm. “He’s pro-Paradiso, pro-Military, and anti-Everything Else. He has a deeply rooted hatred for academics, holo-games, and defense attorneys. Three years ago there was a populist upswing and the expansionist party took the majority in government. As a reaction, his fiery rhetoric started getting popular with the conservationists and that station gave him his own show. The more popular he got the more obvious his instability became. Little bits of homophobia and chauvinism have been poking out of his speeches. He claims to be a Christian, but I have a better knowledge of scripture than he does.” Samantha thought about the preacher in the compound she grew up in. That was a man who knew Leviticus by heart, and had apparently forgotten about the Sermon on the Mount. “Kids,” said Alison. “Go to your room, I have to call your father.” “This is textbook reckless endangerment,” said Malcolm. “Oh! I hope there will be a trial!” The door closed behind them. “Amelia,” said Alison. “Yes Ma’am,” her six inch high avatar appeared on the table. “Can you retrieve the segment of that show we just watched?” “Easily,” said the AI. “Packet up the part with our house and the claim about why they are six instead of three,” said Alison. “Now call my husband.” He picked up quickly. “Yes, Dear,” he said. “I believe I have a lead for you,” said Alison. Natalie’s poor bottom was still red and sore from the hairbrushing her daddy had given her when she woke up. “Take down your panties, Natalie,” ordered her mommy, sitting on the couch with Natalie’s paddle in her lap. Tears were already in the girl’s eyes as she reached under her skirt and dropped her panties to her ankles. Jaydee was watching with a look of fear and sympathy from her homework desk, her stylus gripped in her right hand. Mommy set the paddle to her right, pulled Natalie over her lap and unceremoniously brushed her short skirt aside. Retrieving the paddle, Mommy tapped it on the girl’s pink bottom, and started the punishment with one good hard swat with a lot of follow through. SPANK! “WAAAAAAAAAAA!” SPANK! “PLEEEEEEEESSSS!” SPANK! Nothing that Natalie could do or say could stop the beating of that terrible paddle. SPANK! She shrieked as she pushed in vain against mommy’s thigh. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! She’d do anything, she’s promise anything. SPANK! SOMEONE TELL HER WHAT SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO DO! SPANK! SOMEONE RESCUE HER! SPANK! “MAAAAAAALCOOOOOOOLM!” She cried out SPANK! “HEEEEEEENREEEEEEEEEEEEEY!” She cried. SPANK! “EEEEEEENREEEEEEEEEEEEE!” She cried out again. Spank. Jen’s confusion over this new name caused her to drop the last spank with less impact. “And who is Henry?” asked Jen. Natalie was sobbing too much, so Jaydee felt it wise to interject. “Henry is her adopted father,” said Jaydee. “Oh right I forgot-” Jen started to say. “eeeeeeeeee’s deeeead,” whined Natalie. Both Jen and Jaydee were wide eyed in shock. “He died.” Natalie was finally calm enough to speak coherently, but she was still crying hard. “What-WHEN,” demanded Jaydee as she jumped off of her chair. Jen put Natalie’s panties and skirt back in order and pulled the girl into a loving embrace. “A week *gasp* before we left. *gasp* I can’t stop. I can’t stop crying,” Natalie managed to say through the tears. “You’re finally letting yourself grieve, aren’t you?” Jennifer hugged the poor girl harder. “I wan you bak. I want. You. Back. I miss you so much.” She broke down into sobs again and Jaydee and Mommy sandwich hugged her for comfort. Mommy would blow Natalie’s nose every so often. Eventually, her crying finally subsided. “I didn’t cry when he died,” Natalie wheezed. “I just, put on a smile. I told him ‘thank you for everything.’ I told him I would be alright on my own now, because of what he did for me. He called me his daughter. And then he was gone. And I just kept on going. I went to the wake, went to the funeral, and then I came here.” “You could have told us,” said Jaydee. “I mean you could have gotten out of this JOB!” “I know,” said Natalie. “But I shuddered to think what YOU would do if you didn’t have me holding you back.” Jaydee, ever so lightly, taped Natalie on the forehead with two of her fingers. “Besides,” said Natalie, “if you two had vanished while on duty, I would have come for you guys anyway.” Jaydee hugged her harder. “But...I did tell Malcolm,” said Natalie. One month ago, Natalie and Malcolm sat next to each other underneath a tree on the playground. “Why would you want to stay here?” asked Malcolm. “There’s nothing left for me on Earth,” said Natalie. “What about your gaurdian, Hank?” asked Malcolm. Natalie took some time to answer. “He’s gone,” said Natalie. “He died of kimber’s disease a week before I left. He couldn’t afford the medicine. You know, I haven’t even told Jaydee and Anthony yet?” “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Malcolm. “Wait, he couldn’t afford the medicine?” (On Paradisio, the Plague incident left such a hatred towards capitalized medicine that the reorganized government had militantly socialized medicine. School children are rigorously drilled in the virtues of their health system.) “Because Pizgarlen sets the prices,” said Natalie, she sat on her knees and turned towards Malcolm. “You remember how I told you about that guy who outed me as an agent and I had to escape the planet?” “Yes,” said Malcolm. “Well, my mission was to investigate Pizgarlen’s labs for accounting discrepancies. See someone audited some companies periphery to Pizgarlen Pharmaceuticals and found some differences between what they shipped to Pizgarlen and what Pizgarlen put on their official reports. In fact, it was not even close. “See, they sell medicine at a big mark up. And if someone complains about the price, their PR boys say ‘What can we do? Research is expensive.’ Well if these clues were correct, Pizgarlen’s super expensive medicine was not NEARLY as expensive to produce as what they claim. And they have the patents on a LOT of essentials. Heck the military boys aren’t even allowed to buy from anyone else. “Anyway, I got busted and we had to run. In the end we had to delete all of our findings because Pizgarlen claimed we had violated some trade secrets law.” “Can’t you just order an investigation?” asked Malcolm. “No we can’t,” said Natalie. “Pizgarlen pays for the election campaigns of senators just to keep the laws on their side. I mean, when I left they were lobbying to change the laws to let them buy insurance companies. They are a monster. Malcolm lay back down. Natalie realized this was the most she had ever told him about life back on Earth. Most of their conversations was him explaining life on Paradisio to her, or about hologames, or about which implements they hated the most. Malcolm stood up and started pacing. “Are you okay?” asked Natalie? “Not really,” said Malcolm. He was getting agitated. “I mean, I only spent all of my life dreaming about leaving this planet for the first time...I only wrote dozens of papers on the abuse of quarantine laws. Spent all that time in ‘Children of the Mother Earth conventions. It’s...” he tried to laugh it off. “...It’s worse than finding out that Santa isn’t real.” He was pacing more and more rapidly. “I mean...I just...one of the WHOLE reasons I broke into that impound base was to prove that I was RIGHT about the outside world and I...I was wrong...I was so wrong.” He fell to his knees and hugged himself. Tears were starting to come. “I...wanted...I...” Natalie knelt down next to him. She didn’t know what to say so she just hugged him. “Malcolm, Natalie,” said the voice of Ms. Fesse. They both looked up. there was their teacher, standing over them with a look of concern. “I think I need to remove you from the playground.” She took them directly to Perskova’s office. Malcolm was in first. The door was set to allow sound to penetrate and Natalie had just heard Malcolm relate what Natalie had told him. As Ms. White, the secretary, went about her tasks, Natalie could only wring her hands in worry. Next to Natalie sat Elizabeth, a black haired girl with glasses and a barely concealed bad attitude. She had finally just admitted that Henry was dead, and it gave her boyfriend a nervous breakdown. Previously, when Malcolm had asked her about how things are on Earth she had just answered some general questions and kind of deflected telling him about politics and more complicated things, not because she didn’t think he could handle it, but because she was aware that their collars were linked right to the hostile government that was imprisoning her. “And was that so distressing?” asked Perskova. “Yes,” said Malcolm. “I mean...well...I wanted...” he talked as if he was out of breath “...all my life...I wanted something better than THIS.” “I wanted to see the home planet, the other colonies. But all my life the all they said was ‘You’re staying here so you better get used to it! How dare you be ungrateful for the planet we saved for you!’ AND THEY WERE ALWAYS MEAN ABOUT IT!” “Who is ‘they?’” asked Perskova. “Conservationists,” Malcolm admitted, “I wanted to prove them wrong about everything. I mean they had to be wrong, they were always so MEAN, and condescending. And since we have had no contact with Earth at all, their idea that Earth was dangerous was no more valid than our idea that it was safe to make contact. “And THAT is why I tried to break into the captured ships. There was so much I could have learned from their computers. I was so SURE that I could shut every last one of them up with what I found in there... “But even if I had made it work, turns out I would have just found stuff that would have helped THEM, not us. It’s as bad as they say it is out there.” Natalie could hear tears through the door. “I messed up my whole life for nothing. Nothing at all. I’ve lost everything.” There was a pause. Natalie hugged her knees to her chest. “Mrs. Perskova...ple...” “Yes, Malcolm,” said the principal. her voice was free of malice. “Please...please spank me,” said Malcolm. Natalie could only imagine the scene, of Perskova moving from her swiveling desk chair to the straight backed chair. Of her undoing Malcolm’s pants and baring his bottom. “Are you ready, Malcolm?” said Perskova. Malcolm let out a whine. Natalie hear the impact of flesh upon flesh and Malcolm started really crying. At least it was a hand spanking and not with an implement, but she could hear Malcolm sobbing. Hearing the spanking was worse than seeing it. She hugged her knees to her harder and closed her eyes. She wished it hadn’t happened this way. If only she had known that Malcolm had a whole bunch of hope wrapped up in the home world. She could have broken it to him gently. Perskova’s rhythm never swayed. Malcolm bawled and weeped but she never broke one single stroke. It was over in less than three minutes (Natalie thought it felt longer). Perskova stopped spanking and Malcolm was still crying. Then his voice was muffled as if cloth was over his mouth. “I’m sorry Malcolm, it must be very difficult for you,” said the Principal Natalie realized that Perskova was hugging him. “I jus,” said Malcolm through his tears, “wanned ometing better dan dis. ANYTHING would be better *sniff* dan this.” “No Malcom,” said Perskova. “I am afraid this is all we get.” They heard the sound of a nose being blown “Would you like something to drink?” “Grape juice?” said Malcolm. Natalie and Elizabeth regarded each other in shock. “I don’t have grape, I have cherry,” said Perskova. “Okay,” said Malcolm. There was the sound of a bottle being opened. Natalie and Elizabeth were dumbfounded. Once Natalie had seen Peskova the Persecutor not spank a child who had walked by her, following every rule. That was the limit of compassion she had ever seen from this woman. “Are you feeling better now?” asked the principal. “Mh-hm,” said Malcolm, he mouth clearly occupied with the bottle. “Well, I have to send you back to class now. Will you be alright?” “Yes Ma’am,” said Malcolm. Hearing him calm made Natalie feel much better. She finally let her legs drop. “Very good,” said Perskova. The door opened. Malcolm was holding a cherry soda bottle in his right hand and his bottom with his left. “Oh, Natalie,” said Perskova, “I forgot you were here too. You can go.” “What?” asked Natalie. “WHAT?” asked Elizabeth. “Natalie, are you saying there is something you need to discuss with me?” “Um,” had Natalie somehow entered an strange and unnatural part of the universe where saying just the right thing meant that she would not be spanked. Natalie thought carefully about her next answer. “No?” said Natalie. “Then get back to class,” said Perskova. “I don’t have anything to discuss either,” exclaimed Elizabeth. Perskova reached out and caught her by the ear. “YOU do.” said Perskova as she dragged the mewling girl into her office. The door closing behind them reminded Natalie very much of a dragon closing its mouth. “We should go,” said Malcolm. “Yes,” said Natalie. Once they were in the hall and on the way back to class. Natalie spoke up. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Yeah,” said Malcolm. “You want the rest?” He offered her the half full bottle. “Totally,” she snatched the bottle and greedily downed those last few drops of fruity goodness. “I feel better,” said Malcolm. “I mean, I still feel bad about it but...I think I am more okay with staying on Paradisio...because you’re here.” Hot blood filled Natalie’s face. She dropped the empty bottle “I’m sorry,” said Malcolm quickly. “Was that-” She took his face in her hands and kissed him softly on the mouth. They hugged. Then they retrieved the bottle, got it into the proper receptacle, and got back to class. There were no red files distributed to them. There was no need, after all they had broken no rules. “I mean,” said Natalie. “I told him and he kind of had a break down. Kind of put me off telling more people.” “Okay,” said Jaydee. There was a long pause. then Natalie started crying again. Jen hugged her all the way through. Back at the corrections building Alison had ended up just letting the kids watch cartoons all morning after they finished the rest of Quantum Rangers. “Don’t tell your father,” she told them. The children intended to abide. It was fun just relaxing on the couch watching whatever nonsense was on. After all the comedies and the action shows were over, Mom made some sandwiches and it was back to homework. But once the distraction of the animations was gone, Malcolm’s thoughts turned to Natalie rather than academics. He knew she was in for a three per weekend, and his imagination cranked itself to eleven to imagine what her parents were doing to her right now. His juvenile mind shuddered at the horrors they might be performing on her. He imagined her weeping, crying, begging for mercy. She would shriek his name. Then Malcolm would burst in wearing a suit of Magitek armor and rescue her- Oh what’s the point, Malcolm set the stylus on the desk and leaned on his right hand. That’s not happening! What? Are you so RETARDED that you cannot tell the difference between fantasy and reality? THAT IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF THINKING THAT GOT YOU IN HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! Those kids from school back home had verbally abused him so much, that now their voices had taken on a life of their own inside his head. Predominant among them was Brian Riggs, a muscle-head with a bad temper and a talent for knowing when the teachers were not watching. To say that he was not shaken by Natalie’s revelation of the nature of the mother planet would be untrue. On that day his last excuse died. Up until that point he had been telling himself that he was an oppressed political operative, rebelling against an authoritative government. That he would be the one to tear the wool from the eyes of the public. But no. It was all his fantasy. He was just a deluded child. Good god, what if that ship he was going after was just another trick from Pizgarlen. Natalie had since gone on to tell him that she, Jaydee, and Anthony were infected with genetically engineered viruses before they came (without their knowledge, of course). It was not difficult to guess that Pizgarlen had arranged that as well. That, coupled with the reports of the genocide on four other colony planets, had shaken him to his very core as to the scope of the danger. He buried his face in his hands. “Um...” said Samantha. “Are you alright?” “Like you care,” said Malcolm. Samantha frowned, then went back to her homework. A doorbell chimed. They heard muffled voices and then their bedroom door opened. “Hey, dudes,” said Steven. “Steve,” said Malcolm, “What are you doing here?” asked Samantha. “Our moms thought you two needed some company,” answered the boy as he helped himself onto the nearest bed. “That John Fields stuff was amazing.” “Oh!” said Malcolm. “I REALLY hope he gets rejuved over this.” “You don’t like him then?” asked Steven. “For the past three years he has been the voice of the most obnoxious members of the conservationists,” Malcolm stood up from his seat and began to pace. “They have been quoting him word for word and he has been doing his very honest best to rewrite the history of Earth to suite his arguments. He claims that Dr. Shino Akagawa was the head of a lesbian cult dedicated to Athena and working behind the scenes to obstruct men at every opportunity.” “Wasn’t that a green-band-Holo,” said Samantha. [author’s note: Pornography on paradisio came in three varieties, named for the colored bands that wrapped their packaging: blue grade featured naked individuals in suggestive poses with no penetration and was available to anyone graduated from kindern status or any rejuve over the age of twelve, green featured couples consummating and light spanking and bondage play and was available to adults and rejuves over the age of sixteen, red band featured hardcore bondage and extreme depictions of fetishes and was only available to individuals over the age of twenty one] “He claimed that Ayn Rand was a socialist infiltrator who wanted to infect population with atheism,” Malcolm continued, waving his arms for emphasis. “He spent an hour claiming that Raymond Delacroix was in collusion with the Earth government and was putting subliminal messages in his porn holos.” “It is pronounce: De-la-croy,” Samantha corrected his phonetic enunciation. Then something clicked in her mind. “Wait,” she said as she held up her hand. “Yes,” said Malcolm. “The bottom line is that if someone can love it more than Mr. Field’s cause, he hates it.” “No, not that,” Samantha waved her hand. She tapped her desk, bringing up the search engine. She called up a still holo of Raymond Delacroix, one of the most prolific distributors of pornogrphic material and its most outspoken advocate, at a fancy social function. A tall, well dressed blonde man with his long hair in a neat braid and an immaculately trimmed beard. “Does he look familiar to you?” “Yes,” said Malcolm as if it was obvious, “I know Raymond Delacroix’s face.” “Really?” asked Samantha. “Hey Amelia, can you do something to this image?” Amelia’s holographic avatar appeared next to the still image. “More specifically?” asked Amelia. “Lose the beard,” said the girl. Amelia obliged. “And the pony tail too.” Amelia did so. Samantha looked right at her court ordered brother. “Now?” “Um...” said Malcolm. “Amelia,” said Samantha, “what would he look like as a teenager?” Amelia changed the holo again. Now Malcolm saw it. “He’s...” Malcolm saw it. In his mind he heard a string section play a dramatic sting. “He looks just like...” “Uncle Ray!” finished Samantha. “Wait,” said Steven. “Whose uncle?” “Mom’s uncle,” said Samantha. “Your mom’s uncle owns Fleur De Lis Holos,” Steven was agast. “It...it’s not possible,” said Malcolm. “Amelia,” What is my mom’s maiden name. “Delacroix,” said Amelia. “OH! MY GOD!” exclaimed Malcolm. “IT’S HIM!” yelled Samantha “I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” yelled Malcolm Several things happened in succession. The holo collapsed into the desk, then the door opened, and Alison walked into the room. “Are you okay?” she asked. “The children were expressing shock at some of the claims of Mr. Fields,” said Amelia’s synthetic voice. “Oh,” said Alison, accepting to word of the hologram. “Well I can understand that, but perhaps you could try to do it quietly?” “Okay,” said all three children. Their mother closed the door and left. “Did you just lie to her?” asked Steven. “Not...technically,” said Amelia. “Even if I lied by omission,” said Malcolm, “I would get a switching.” “Then it is a very good thing I am not you,” said Amelia. “But I postulate that this particular issue poses little threat to your personal well being or your rehabilitation.” “Still,” said Steven, “I do feel some trepidation that our robots are starting to learn deception.” “If I could not understand deception, I would not be able to understand humans,” retorted the AI. Steven looked at her holographic avatar warily. “Well, just so long as you don’t go crazy and try to create a perfect human society,” said Steven. “A perfect society is an abstract,” said Amelia. “Its definition varies too widely from individual to individual to conform to any practical definition. As such, I find the pursuit of such a goal irrational.” “Oh, good,” said Steven. “Raymond Delacroix,” said Samantha as she flopped onto her bed on her stomach. “We met Raymond Delacroix. How awesome is that” “Which means that must have been Hikari Tonbo he was promising to punish,” said Malcolm. “Hikari was there too!?” asked Steven. Malcolm and Samantha told him the essential details of the night Ray babysat for them. “Oh man,” said Steven. “Before I was sent up I had every holo Hikari did. ‘Secrets of the Shogun,’ ‘Star-Bound Lovers,’ and the whole ‘White Rose Academy’ saga.” “White Rose,” said Malcolm, “classic. I loved that one. She played Yume Kaguya. I had some of his instructional holos too: ‘The Indispensable Guide to Erotic Corporal Punishment,’ ‘The Delicate Art of the Cane,’ They were fascinating.” “I thought you never had a girlfriend,” said Samantha. “I was optimistic,” said Malcolm. “Well I had the holo that taught you how to give great oral,” said Samantha. “I made my woman cry out like an opera singer. They heard her in the next building!” “Man, I miss porn,” said Malcolm. “Yeah,” agreed Samantha and Steven. “Do you think you can introduce me?” asked Steven. “I don’t know,” said Malcolm. Then he touched his secureband. “Hey, you don’t think she’s listening in?” “She is not,” said Amelia. “She has delegated the monitoring of your speech and activities to me.” (In most penny households the parents use the audio surveillance on their children themselves in the first, introductory month, then assign their house’s virtual intelligence [a computer that gives the impression of a personality but is not actually self aware], or if they can afford it, and artificial intelligence, to monitor the children for key words and phrases. The small problem being that Virtual Intelligences have trouble picking up on human nuances so they can mistake a benign statement for a malicious one and vice versa. Full AIs are much better at learning human nuance, but require expensive platforms for operation.) “Okay, good.” said Steven. “I think we should tell her we know,” said Samantha. “You’re right, of course,” sighed Steven. “Yeah,” said Malcolm. The three solemnly exited the room. In the living room, they found Alison engaged in a holo call with the rejuvenated Raymond Delacroix himself. Anne McDonald, Steven’s mother, was off to the side. “-spent an entire hour not only accusing me of treason AND MISPRONOUNCING MY NAME!” exclaimed the livid fifteen year old. “Yes I heard,” said Alison. “Tell me you can get me into the trial,” said Uncle Ray. “I don’t even know if he is going to be charged,” said Alison. “Oh! Don’t tell me that his council buddies are-” “Kids!” Alison interrupted him. “Come here,” she waved her children closer to her. They came to within visual range of the holo transmission. “Kids, did you thank your uncle Ray for taking such good care of you?” asked Alison. “No,” the children snickered. “Well...what should you...say?” Alison sensed something had shifted. “Thank you uncle Ray,” said the children, on the verge of laughing. “Oh God, you know, don’t you?” said the hologram of Ray. “YES!” the children exclaimed and fell over themselves laughing. Alison covered her face with her hands. “Know what?” asked Mrs. McDonald. “Mom, do you know Fluer De Lis Holos?” asked Steven. “Should I?” asked Mrs. McDonald. Malcolm and Samantha laughed harder. “Um,” said Steven. Alison whispered something into Anne’s ear. Her eyes went wide. “Ohhhhhhhhhh,” she said. “We bow before you,” said Samantha as she genuflected the holo of Raymond. “We are not worthy,” said Malcolm as he did likewise. “That’s enough!” said Alison. The children stood at attention. “When did you figure this out?” asked their mother. “About five minutes ago,” said Malcolm. “Samantha worked it out.” “Yes I did,” said Samantha. “Okay,” Alison buried her face in her hands again, slightly muffling her voice. “Can you two...you three promise to keep this to yourselves?” Malcolm, Samantha and Steven regarded each other. “Yes,” said the children. “And don’t you go asking me for any free samples!” ordered Raymond. “I’m not talking to you about the work I do until you reach the eighteen age mark. Let’s establish that boundary RIGHT NOW!” “Aw,” said Malcolm. “But seriously, there was no one better than you.” “Malcolm!” said Raymond. “My work is not to be discussed in the presence of my family!” Suddenly Malcolm realized that talking about porn in front of your niece would be kind of gross and he shut up. “Good,” said Raymond. “Now, back to it. Don’t tell me that all of those counselors he got elected are going to blackball any attempt at prosecution.” “I can’t tell you what I don’t know,” insisted Alison. “Can you get me in if there is one?” asked Raymond. Alison contemplated this. “Can you promise that you will not make a disturbance?” she asked. “Would knitting count?” asked Raymond. “Knitting?” asked Alison. “Yes,” he said. “I want Fields to hear the click of knitting needles as the judge hands down the sentence.” “No,” said Alison. “COME ON!” insisted Raymond. “It is a classical reference.” “I love you, Uncle Ray. Goodbye.” Alison cut the call. It was a pleasant day outside and Mrs. McDonald suggested allowing the children to walk the maze. Alison agreed, hoping to have some time to talk to Anne. The maze in the courtyard reset to a new position and Alison shooed the kids in, confident in their ability to navigate a simple maze while she sat on a bench and talked with her fellow penny parent. “Malcolm’s reached the breaking point,” said Alison once she was sure the kids were out of an earshot. “What?” asked Anne. “In his first year? Are you sure.” “I know,” said Alison. “The boy is more impressionable than others. He believes everything, especially when it is shouted at him.” (The breaking point is different from an epiphany. An epiphany is realizing that something you did was worse than you thought. The breaking point is when a penny child runs out of ego and sees his crime as unforgivable. The child becomes depressed and very open to suggestion in this critical state and it is important to manage his emotions properly.) “You didn’t do anything different this time?” asked Anne. “It was that note passing weekend that really drove him home,” said Alison. “He was torn up about it for a month afterwards. I mean, he thought it would just be a fun little thing to do, worst case scenario he gets a spanking in class. Then the whole thing avalanches, the whole class gets a three per weekend. For a month he told me he kept hearing Natalie and the rest of the class crying. He was having nightmares.” “I see. What about Samantha?” “She’s not quite as far along,” said Alison. “She still blames her real father for a lot of her problems, an attitude I have some sympathy for. And the illiteracy she suffered from is still a BIG source of shame for her. In the first month Malcolm learned about it and teased her for it and I scrubbed his mouth out before hauled him to the memory bench. I won’t have any of that. “They always send them to me,” mused Alison. “You know what they call me in the bureau?” “The Coddler,” said Anne. The Martins had a reputation for turning around pennies with crippling self esteem problems. “Yes,” said Alison, “I shove all the love and confidence and the occasional pretty little lie that I can into these kids. I cut away the deceptions and terrors and problems they have picked up from their parents, their spouses, their teachers, and what have you. All while obeying the corrections bureau’s doctrines of rehabilitation.” “Careful,” said Anne. “Oh I have EARNED the right to criticize,” said Alison. “After everything I have done for them, and TO the children.” Alison lowered her voice. “The reason I am so good at this is because I know when to stop. The rule of hard time is that you must make the child believe that she is incapable of making the moral choice. I know when to set that rule aside, drop the paddle, and hug her with all your might and tell her that she IS a good girl and one day she will have a better life. I know how to give them HOPE!” “You know they were originally going to make this a part of a graduation ceremony,” said Steven as he, Samantha, and Malcolm wandered the mirror maze. “The penny would wander the maze, come out on the other side and her parents and the police would cheer for her then they change the P on her hands to a C. They never started doing that, though.” “Why not,” asked Samantha. “I don’t know,” said Steven. “Found it,” he announced as he turned a corner and gestured to the exit. “You two go ahead,” said Malcolm. “What?” asked Samantha. “I just,” said Malcolm, “ want to walk more.” He took another turn, confident in his ability to find his way back. In the next turn he found another dead end. He walked up to it and looked at his reflection in the mirrored glass. What a worthless piece of shit, he thought. Have you ever seen such a worthless piece of shit in your life? He didn’t dare say it out loud. He was too terrified of getting his mouth scrubbed out. Because only a retarded, worthless piece of shit would wind up like this. You could have followed the rules, and been a good little boy, taken your failing grade like a man and just taken the course again next year but NOOOOO. You thought your were smarter than your professors and your government but YOU’RE NOT! Every idea you have is wrong before you think it up so JUST STOP THINKING YOU FILTHY LITTLE RETARD! For years Malcolm had told himself that the reason he had not achieved his dreams was because people were holding him back. Now the all the spite and malice he once projected on them was turned inward. He placed his forehead on the glass. Is that why you love Natalie? Because she is the only who will never tell you what a worthless piece of shit you are? Oh I know what you really want, you want to suck all the joy and love out of her so it can die inside your heart and she can be as miserable as you are. IS THAT WHAT-” Ed was behind him. Malcolm whirled around. Standing above him was Ed, wearing pink shorts and a green t-shirt. Strange choice for the ides of winter. “BRAN MUFFIN!” exclaimed Ed as she embraced him tightly. “Mello Ed,” said Malcolm’s muffled voice. “Ed found iiiiiit,” said the mercurial twelve year old girl. “Did you run away from home again?” asked Malcolm when she loosened her grip. “EEEEEEEDDD!” Malcolm heard a voice that he correctly guessed belonged to Maggie Setter, Ed’s assigned mother. He took Ed by the hand. “Come on, let’s get you back to your mom,” he grumbled. “No.” Ed Refused to move. Malcolm looked her right in the eyes. He could hear his mom and Mrs. Setter talking. “Ed. I. Am. A. Penny. If I do not get you back to your mom, I will get spanked. Hard.” he squeezed her hand. Ed’s face fell. “Now come on.” “ED!” exclaimed Maggie. Ed wriggled her hand out of his grip and took off down another route. Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Amelia, do you have-” “Hello, Malcolm.” Amelia appeared inside the mirrored wall. It looked like she was standing right next to his reflection. “Amelia,” said Malcolm. “Can you raise the walls around Ed so she is trapped in one the the squares. “Done,” said Amelia. Malcolm heard Ed yelp. “Now can you lower every wall BUT the ones that are trapping her?” “Done,” said Amelia. Every wall but the one she was projecting into and the four walls surrounding Edward fell into the ground. Malcolm turned to find his mom and Mrs. Setter in one corner of the maze and Ed’s exclamations coming from a penned in region in the middle. He correctly guess that the mothers had gone into the maze to look for Ed together. “I got her in there,” Malcolm gestured to the improvised cell. “YOU got her in there?” asked Amelia. “Well it was my idea,” said Malcolm. “I would have done it myself eventually,” said Amelia. Maggie marched right up to the enclosure. Amelia dropped the wall and Maggie grabbed Ed by the upper arm. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!” She smacked Ed’s clothed bottom as she scolded. “I *SMACK!* TOLD YOU *SMACK!* NOT TO *SMACK!* LEAVE ME!” “NEEEEEE!” exclaimed Ed. “Just wait till your father hears about this!” Maggie hauled Ed back into the main building. “What are they doing here?” Malcolm asked his mother. “Today is Talula’s final session with the spankmasters,” said Alison. Minutes earlier, the door had closed behind Talula. She was now sealed inside the spankmaster, a 1.5 meter by two meter by two meter shed designed to restrain and punish any child unlucky enough to have been added to its list of law breakers. It smelled like servo grease and antiseptics. “You have 90 seconds to undress,” said the cold, digital voice of the virtual intelligence of the SpankMaster. “Hang up your clothes on hooks and stand in front of restraints…90…89…88.” Talula had been dressed in a simple pink shirt and skirt with an elastic waistband. Removing her clothes and panties was the work of seconds. Naked, she confronted the restraints. She knew what she had to do, and it made her cry. “70...69...68.” She lined up her waist to the midsection binder, and her hands and feet with the wrist and ankle restraints, crying all the time. When the countdown finally came to a close, the mechanical cuffs grabbed her and expanded their interior padding to seal her limbs. The stomach binder closed around her with a horrid *clank* and then she was bent over a padded bolster, locking her at a 90 degree angle at her waist. The restraints moved her legs further apart, exposing her nethers to the cold air. “Talula Alice Setter. Lewd conduct and reckless endangerment. Strokes set at fixed numbers. Your spanking will begin in 10...9...” Two new arms, equipped with black paddles, extended out of the sides of the machine, dunked themselves in a tray of antiseptic solution, and positioned the paddles over her bottom. Some of the fluid dropped onto her skin, sending a shiver up her spine. “3...2...1. Penny paddle. Size three. twenty four strokes” SPANK! The right paddle came down. Talula wailed in anguish. SPANK! Then the left one. “PLEEEEEEAAAASE!” Talula wailed in vain. The machine set to its work, burning the authority of the law into her poor naked bottom. SPANK! “NOOOOO!” SPANK! It was not spanking as hard as it would spank a penny on Diaspora, but Talula had very little appreciation for this fact. She continued to weep and writhed in vain against her bonds. It was too much! After twenty four strokes of uniform force, Talula’s bottom was pink and throbbing. Her futile tears had formed a puddle below her face. Her crying had just begun to subside when... “Final stage. Penny strap. Size four. Twenty four strokes.” SLAP! Talula wailed as two new implements began their work. “I WAN” *SLAP!* “MY” *SLAP* “MOMMEEEEEEEEE!” *SLAP!* She cried and shook her head in anguish as the brutal assault of those remorseless straps continued. Somebody please help her! She would do anything! Someone make it stop! She didn’t even feel the strokes anymore, just one great burning pain on her bottom. She lost count of the strokes. Then they ended. It was over, all that she could do was cry. No more, she was never getting in trouble again. It was finally over. But...the restraints were not letting go. “Special Addendum.” Talula looked up in horror. “Discretionary advisement: Judge Spode. Nursery cane. Size six. Twelve strokes.” “No,” she whispered, “pleEEEEEE!” The cane cut into her right knee hollow then her left one. The vicious whips marched up her untouched thighs leaving a brutal precision of parallel broken skin. The final strokes went across the center of her bottom. The restraints finally released her. She fell to the ground on her side, too weak to move. “Spanking cycle completed. Starting exit cycle…you have 200 seconds to dress and exit the Spankmaster. 200…199...” Talula mustered what strength she had left and pulled on her underwear. That it was backwards and inside out mattered little to her. She finished dressing with twenty seconds to go and exited the box weeping on wobbly legs. She was greeted by her Mommy and the male attendant who monitored the machines. Mommy immediately embraced her. Behind her mommy was, Ed, the Martins, and a mom and boy she did not know. She hid her face from her neighbors. “Well now,” said the immaculately attendant dressed attendant. “I don’t think anyone is going to be breaking any laws anymore.” He spoke with insufferably condescending cheerfulness. “And you!” he pointed to Ed. “You just better stay with your moomeeeee.” he spoke as if Ed were three years old. “Or one day I might-YAAAH!” Ed bit the finger he was pointing at her. When she let go he jumped back a cradled the injured digit. “AAAAOOOOOH!” He howled. “ASSAULT! I’ll have an assault suit on you!” “Please!” sighed Mrs. Setter. She had really gone through enough today. “Actually,” said Steven. “Since you are the one who violated her territorial bubble you would be seen as the instigator of this incident.” “WHAT!” Demanded the attendant. Then fear crossed his face. “Wait.” He opened up the console to find his employee handbook file. “Yeah, It is a rule to protect rejuves,” continued Steven. “Can’t come within point five meters of a child without permission or reasonable expectation of acceptance from parents.” “Yup,” agreed Samantha. “Totally a rule.” “Territorial bubble,” said Malcolm. “We spent a recess session learning about it.” The attendant found the text section dealing with it and his face fell even further. “Um,” he said “I don’t suppose we could...” “We’re going,” said Mrs. Setter. She turned and walked out the door into the big hallway. “You’re not going to file any complaints...are...you?” He asked as they left. The rest of the folks followed Mrs. Setter. “Aly,” said Maggie Setter. “Could we use this apartment you have? I need to do a lot before I drive home.” Maggie set herself down on the couch and laid the still crying Talula over her lap. the five year old girl lay limp and offered no resistance to her mother lifted her skirt and pulling her panties down to her ankles. “Look at these cane marks!” said Maggie. “‘E orerered it,” wheezed Talula as she lifted her head. “Spode. Ordered. It.” she enunciated, then dropped her head again. “Oh,” said Alison. “It’s called ‘Judicial Discretion.’ A Judge can order an extra little punishment on any penny he has sentenced.” “That’s legal?” asked a shocked Maggie. “Yes,” said Alison and Anne. Maggie hung her head in rejection. “Might I please have some nano lotion?” “Here you go,” Alison handed her a bottle. Maggie shifted Talula’s body to give her a put her thighs in a better position, then she started gingerly laying nanolotion on the broken skin. The pennies stared at the girl with rapt attention, Malcolm especially. He ever so wished he could be soothing Natalie in a similar fashion. He thought of her across his lap, thanking him as he gently spread the lotion across her naked skin. He felt warm. “You know,” said Alison. “Malcolm and Natalie could do with a dose of that.” She sat down to Maggie’s left and patted her lap. “Come here Malcolm.” Malcolm gasped. “Anne, could you do Samantha?” “Certainly,” said Mrs. McDonald. She sat down on Maggie’s right and gestured Samantha to come forward. Malcolm was red as a beet as his mother lowered his pants, revealing the tight nature of his underwear. For this first time all day, Talula giggled. “Heeee, Malcolm’s got a stiiiiffyyyyyy,” she jeered as Alison pulled down the boy’s underwear. Malcolm hid his boy parts with both of his hands. His mother hauled him up and over her knee, so that his bottom was pointed right at Talula. Samantha, meanwhile, had been pointed right at Talula’s girl parts, which she stared at with fascination. Malcolm clenched his legs together and raised his calves to try and shield his privates from Talula’s view. Talula giggled more and Malcolm blushed more. “Right, now we will need some diapers,” said Mrs. Setter once the children’s bottoms were coated. “Oh, my goodness,” said Anne. All the while, Ed had assembled the kitchen utensils into a well balanced sculpture. The parents ignored this for now and laid the children out on the beds and diapered all three of them, then stood them in the corner of the living room with their hands on their heads. Malcolm correctly guessed that they intended to activate the Nano-lotion without a nap. Most of the time, the nano bots were activated while the child was under a delta-induced nap, owing to the fact that they felt itchy and weird while they worked. Alison pressed the button on the bottle and all three children began to twist and squirm. The bots kind of tickled, but not in a way that you would make you laugh. It was ever so hard not to scratch while the bots were doing their work (but Malcolm knew from experience that would just get him an itchy hand and an extra spanking). The nano machines made no sound, at least no sound that could be heard over the crinkling of diapers, the whining of voices and the grinding of teeth. Maggie pulled Alison and Anne close to her. “Here we go,” said Talula as she bounced on her tip toes. The children had their backs to the wall. “What?” asked Samantha as the three women closed in on Ed. “Ed’s spankings are a group effort,” said Talula. The three women jumped Ed. There was to be no quite surrender to the inevitable authority, not with Edward. No, from the moment when Maggie first got a grip on her arm, there was screeching, flailing of limbs and gnashing of teeth. Malcolm found it difficult to put words to the epic energy this child exhumed in her efforts to fight off the grown ups. The nearest equivalent Malcolm could think of was attempting to bathe a cat that had severe anxiety and a history of abusing performance enhancing chemicals. Steven took shelter behind the kitchen counter and peeked his head over every so often. After a brutal struggle, Alison had the girl by the arms, Maggie had her by the feet, and Anne was taking down her pants and panties. Edward squealed even louder as Anne took out her frustrations on the girl’s bare bottom. After several minutes of spanking, Ed began to show signs of running out of energy. Anne kept up the beat and eventually she was only crying and barely resisting. Then Maggie took the exhausted preteen over to the couch and started a more traditional over the knee paddling. All while telling Ed how humiliated she was at her behavior. Alison and Anne took the rest of the kids into the children’s room and started changing them back into their regular clothes. In all the excitement, they had not even noticed that the nano lotion had finished. Talula’s skin was once again pristine. Later in the afternoon Ed was laying on her stomach on the couch sulking and the rest of the kids were playing with a paint program on the coffee table console as the adults shared replicated coffee on the kitchen table. “Apparently the next penny rated holo game they are going to be distributing is going to be a remake of a 21th century series called ‘Kingdom Hearts.’” said Steven. “Wait I know that one, it was adapted for a freeshare holo when I was in middle school. This is not going to be another “Empress?” Is it?” asked Malcolm (freeshare is software without a license that is developed with no intent of profit, sometimes by one person, sometimes by a team of persons). “I hope not,” said Steven. “What’s an Empress?” asked Talula. “It’s a bomb,” said Ed. “Well, more accurately,” said Steven, “It is an adaptation that goes so far from the source work that no one buys it. It all started with a freeshare holo game called ‘Warhammer 40000,’ another adaptation of an old Earth game.” “The original game was played in the twentieth century using little plastic figures on big tables, like chess but with more rules,” said Malcolm. At the mention of chess, Samantha rolled her eyes. “The holo version was played on a holo table like this one. No need to fabricate any pieces. They shared the game on the net and the next thing you know, other users are making their own armies, going through old Earth records to find more lore about the original game, artists are helping to create animated pieces, there are fights over whether the new rules should trump the old rules. An entire subculture sprung up around this game.” “You see,” continued Steven, “the original Earth game was noteworthy for its grim darkness. It depicted a dystopian future where oppression was an everyday event. But people were still interested in it. Now it was technically in the public domain, but one of our Paradiso companies, Sorcerer’s Stone Games, saw how far it had spread and tried to create a sequel series. They patented a name ‘Warhammer FIFTY thousand: Rise of the Empress.’ They tried to recruit some of the original guys who adapted the freeshare version, but they all quit when they did not like the direction. “When they released their new product no one inside the community bought it, because SSG inc’s new setting featured not only an upbeat hopeful tone that was too much of a deviation from the source material, but the writing was really poor in comparison.” “The Empress that this whole new story revolved around,” interjected Malcolm, “Was a woman who wore ridiculously skimpy clothing and commanded that her Space Marine forces will only use stun guns instead of the rocket launching rifles the old setting had.” At the mention of rocket launching rifles Samantha perked up. “It did not last,” said Steven. “They did not get nearly enough new fans to cover the cost and the old fans just went back to their free games. Also the new rules SSG developed stated that you needed to buy the licences for armies and individual holos.” “Yes,” said Malcolm. “A mixture of bad writing and greedy sales. But I really hope they do not do the same thing to Kingdom Hearts, I liked that game.” “Hey, Talula,” said Samantha. “You haven’t told anyone where we live? Have you?” “Oh,” Talula rolled her eyes, “Not this again. No. Alright. No I have not. Daddy cracked down on my communications until after my probationary period is over and besides I have no one I would tell anyway. The most contact I have had with the outside was a group mission on Age of Legends, and I didn’t tell them anything.” “You’re on Age of Legends?” asked Malcolm. “Yeah, I got a thief,” said Talula. “What adventure did you play?” asked Malcolm. “The Castle of Count Zepesh,” said Talula. “Oh, the vampire hunt,” said Malcolm. “Yeah,” said Talula, “and the whole time the other guys were talking about the myth-illusions or whatever.” “By any chance, were they affiliated with the Order of the Hawk and Cobra?” asked Malcolm. “Yeah, that was them,” said Talula. “Ohhhh,” said Malcolm and Samantha. “Wait,” said Malcolm to his sister, “how do you know them?” “I met two of them in the arcade and we ran a session of...I forget, some samurai game. Anyway, the whole time they kept talking about the old myths of Japan and stuff. I would have bailed but they were REALLY good at the game.” “Yeah, I never got involved with them,” said Malcolm. “They have a reputation. They expect you to play games more than having a life. They want you to exercise so you are good at the interaction games. They want you to read Sun Tsu so you are good at war games.” “Yeah, these guys were pretty fit,” said Samantha. “The point is I didn’t tell them anything,” insisted Talula. “I couldn’t get a word in edgewise they were talking so much about old Earth myths.” “That I believe,” said Samantha. A bad thought crept into Malcolm’s head: What if it was Ed? What if Ed, in her one of her manic moods had given away that Malcolm’s girlfriend was from off planet.” “Ed,” said Malcolm. “Yessah,” said Ed. “Did you do anything that might make people think that me and Samantha were from off planet?” “Nope.” “Ed,” said Malcolm. “Think hard. do you thi-” Ed took hold of his face by his cheeks. “Ed. Is. Not. Stupid,” she was quite adamant. Malcolm hoped it was true. There had been enough drama with the girls next door. “What’s that?” Talula asked as she leaned against Steven. “It’s a triceratops,” said Steven gesturing to his drawing. “Earth used to have a bunch of them.” “Ooooh,” said Talula. “They got about as big as a bathner,” explained Steven (a bathner is an herbivore native to paradisio noted for their large size and docile nature, owing to the small amount of natural predators). “They were reptiles but they were also warm-blooded.” “Hm,” said Talula, “I’m gonna draw a doggie next to him.” She started drawing a purple dog. “So he’ll have a friend?” asked Steven. “Yeah,” said Talula. “So, do you actually need the glasses or do you just like how they look.” “Oh,” said Steven, “I need them. I have a stubborn condition that the rejuve could not fix. But it should be treatable once I get older.” “Dooonn’t,” said Talula in a playful voice. “You look cute with them.” “I thought girls don’t make passes at men who wear glasses,” said Steven. “Pick the right frame and I’ll play the game,” giggled Talula. “Hey Malcolm, how are things going between you and Natalie?” “I told Natalie I love her,” said Malcolm. the other three kids dropped what they were doing. “You did!?” asked an excited Talula. “Yes,” admitted Malcolm. “And when her parents called off our weekend together because of poor grades, Natalie threw a tantrum. And now I won’t see her for a month.” “Aw man,” said Talula. “Can you text her?” asked Steven. “I...don’t know,” said Malcolm. He tried to think about it. “Mom,” he called out. His mother looked up. “Yes dear,” said Alison. “Can...can I write Natalie a text?” he asked. Alison inclined her head a bit, then she smiled “Of course you can,” she said. Malcolm got up and headed to the kid’s room. this was something he wanted to do in private. After some typing, he came up with a letter he was satisfied with. Dearest Natalie, I miss you. It has only been one day but all I can think of is holding you in my arms again. I have had one of the craziest days. First a crazy conservationist accused me of treason on his holo show, then Ed tackled me while I was in a mirror maze, then we had to pull Talula out her last spankmaster session, then Ed tore up the apartment resisting a spanking while Me, Samantha, and Talula stood around in diapers. I am not making up any of that. Talula and Ed visited today along with Steven. As I type, Talula is flirting with Steven. If we can get Taulua and Steven together, then I don’t have to worry about her anymore. They gave me a hard assignment and I am just now realizing that I have not done as much of it as I should have. I will probably have to work longer than I would like tomorrow. An exciting today and a boring tomorrow. I still mean what I said under the tree, I truly do love you. Hoping to see you again is one of the last joys I have. With all the Love that I posses, Malcolm That’s a good letter. Thought Malcolm. Then he mulled over a postscript. Boldness welled up from the forgotten parts of his heart and he wrote more: P.S. I also care about you too much to let your grades fall. Should you fail to perform well on the practice tests you will have for the test next week, you will politely ask your mother for a hand spanking in addition to the paddling you would receive. Okay, thought Malcolm. Now I am ready. “Send,” he told Amelia. the text vanished into the out box. He left the room. then a bolt of shock went through him as he remembered that his MOTHER was to inspect all outgoing and incoming messages. Sure enough, she was using going over the message. Then she squealed. “EEEEE!” she was clearly delighted. “You told Natalie you love her!” Malcolm’s face grew hot with blood. His mother rushed over and hugged him. “SOOOOOO CUUUUUUTE!” Let’s see what else you wrote.” Malcolm groaned. “Ooohhh, you think Natalie needs more spaaaaankings.” “Please stop,” said Malcolm. Alison flatly ignored him. The other kids were laughing. Malcolm was right back in school! “Well, Malcolm, why do you-” his mother started to say. “PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAASE!” the boy shrieked as he pushed away from her. The full weight of the fact that she was showing Malcolm’’s private mail to her friends sunk into Alison. She collapsed the text message. Malcolm kept struggling and Alison set him on the the floor. He ran into his room and sulked between the window and the nearest bed. He heard the door open and close. “Malcolm?” his so called mother said. He raised his hand over the bed then withdrew it to indicate his location. “Malcolm perhaps what I just did was wrong-” “IT WAS WRONG!” exclaimed the boy as he lept from behind the bed. “IT WAS WRONG! I KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT AND WHAT IS WRONG!” The boy paced around the room. “Oh. No. Wait. I forgot. I DON’T know what is right or wrong. I have NO capacity to know that! That is what you are here for. BECAUSE I’M THE RETARD HERE! Every thought I have is wrong before i think it and you are here to TELL ME THAT!” Alison gathered the boy up in her arms and hugged him tight as he struggled against her. She sat on one of the beds. “LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” the boy shrieked. His mother held him fast. In his rage, Malcolm laid his fingernails on her face as if to claw at her... Then he froze. As he slowly pulled back his hands his mother said: “Do you hate me?” “I...I can’t,” said Malcolm. “Why can’t I? You- You cane me. You switch me. You just gave Talula grand view of my penis. You call me a worthless piece of shit. WHY CAN’T I HATE YOU! “All the food, the nice things you say in between...All the times you have been nice to me are running up against all the times you spank me and it is just CRASHING in my brain.” Malcolm took some time to breathe. “I’ve never called you such names,” said Alison. “WELL THAT’S WHAT I HEAR!” Malcolm found his rage again. “When you spank me and tell me I’m bad it is REAL easy to think ‘Oh, she’s spanking me, it must be because I am a retarded piece of SHIT!’” “Who called you that?” asked Alison. “Someone did, and it was not me.” Malcolm thought. “Brian Riggs,” said Malcolm. “One of my ‘devoted’ classmates.” “He bullied you,” said Alison. “The word ‘bully’ does not have the weight I need. I would say abused, persecuted. You know the word, ‘spanking’ is the same way. It’s supposed to be this childish thing, this funny thing that happens to naughty little kids but it HURTS!” “And this Brian,” said Alison, not letting the boy detract, “Is he an expert on human behavior?” “He couldn’t keep his math grades up to save his football career,” said Malcolm. “Well I don’t think we need to rely on his opinion,” said Alison. “Amelia, come in here.” The six inch holographic avatar manifested on one of the Holo-desks. “Amelia, I don’t suppose this Brian Riggs has achieved any great intellectual accolades? Has He?” “Is this the same Brian Riggs that attended Appleton High School?” asked Amelia. “Yes,” said Malcolm. “He is dead,” said Amelia. “What?” asked mother and son together. “On his twenty first birthday,” said Amelia. “At a private party at his residence, he attempted to drink twenty one shots of whiskey within a span of one hour and succumed to alchohol poisoning.” “What?” asked Malcolm. “Didn’t anyone call for help?” “According to the police report the guests in attendance thought he was unconscious and were too inebriated to realize that he died.” He’s dead, thought Malcolm. He’s actually dead. He’s dead because he surrounded himself with drunken idiots and then poisoned himself. “Well then we DEFINITELY won’t be hearing any more from him,” said Alison. “Oh, these kids, they think they can just charge through anything and outrun the consequences. YOU would never be foolish enough to do that.” “Yes I would,” said Malcolm. “No, you would not,” insisted Alison. “Yes I would,” he repeated. “I busted into a government storehouse just to prove how right I was.” Tears were starting. “What if those ships had been a trojan horse from Pizgarlen?” “They were not,” said Alison. “They might have been,” said Malcolm. “Me being right was more important than EVERY LIFE on this planet. I was THAT stupid. I was MORE STUPID. Brian only killed himself. I MIGHT HAVE KILLED A POPULATION!” Alison hugged him harder. “You didn’t and you would not.” “BUT I ALMOST DID!” Malcolm’s throat was sore from shrieking but he went on. “WHAT ELSE BUT A WORTHLESS FUCKING RETARD WOULD DO THAT!” The boy’s head fell on his mother’s shoulder, his limbs fell limp and he sobbed. Alison placed a loving hand on the back of his head and started rocking back and forth. After he had a bit of a cry, Alison started talking. “Amelia, leave the room and cease all monitoring.” The hologram vanished. “Malcolm, I’ve never told you about what happened to me after the plague. “I was only twenty when the germs came down. I was completely reliant upon my husband, Kyle. After he died, and without my parents...I had never tried to live without someone telling me how. And I was so sad so miserable. And I drank...a lot. The few friends I made, I pushed away because they would not indulge my self loathing fueled benders. Then I met a man.” She could not stop the tears coming down her face. “An abusive man, but I was too drunk and full of survivor’s guilt to see it. I let him make all of my decisions and I could not see his abuse of me as anything but love. Then he robbed me and died of a drug overdose. I let a monster of a man use me. If my Uncle Ray did not find me at that moment I do not know what I would have done with myself. “Malcolm,” she said, “I know how easy it is to get trapped in a spiral of self loathing. To have failed so much that you never think you can succeed at anything again. And going through your head are the worst things everyone has ever said to you. “You see, that is what the brass up top are banking on,” Malcolm lifted his head to make eye contact and give her a questioning glance through his reddened eyes. “You can’t tell anyone this ever, but the unwritten goal of the paradiso penal system is to remove criminal impulses and replace them with debilitating social anxieties that mean people make less trouble.” Malcolm’s face contorted in horror. “But that is NOT MY PLAN!” She looked the boy right in the eye. “Brandon Doohan.” His heart leapt at his real name. “I am NOT going to let that happen to you. DO YOU HEAR ME! I am going to get you out of this! I am going to do everything I can DO to get you into soft time next cycle.” Malcolm hugged her hard. “I am going to tutor you, I am going help you, I don’t care what it takes. I know because I have done it before. I have lifted up thieves and murderers and I am going to do the same for you.” She smacked his bottom once for emphasis. “You have SOOOO much to offer. You’re brilliant, your grades say so. You’re kind, all your friends say so. Natalie says so.” She reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the necklace that Natalie had given him. “And I say so. “Everything I have done to you. I’ve yelled at you, exposed you, paddled you. And that is just the stuff I did in public.” Malcolm managed a slightly derisive laugh. “And you still cannot hate me. That’s not because of something I did. That’s you. You are a good boy, Malcolm. And in less than six years, we are going to prove it.” Malcolm seemed to have received the message. “But I am going to need some help from you,” she warned. “I need you to keep getting these great grades. I need you to keep being nice to all of your friends at school. And I need you to keep treating Natalie with all the love and respect you have so far. Can you do that?” “Y...Yes, ma’am,” said Malcolm. “Good,” said Alison. “Also I need you to be nicer to your sister.” “Pffffffff,” said Malcolm. “I’m doomed.” Alison gave him another playful smack. “Malcolm, I’m sorry I read your text to everyone in the room,” Alison admitted. “Okay,” said Malcolm. “May I lay down?” “Yes,” said Alison. She pulled back the covers and laid her boy down for a nap, after blowing his nose. She kissed him on the cheek. “I love you,” she said. “I love you too, mommy,” whispered the boy. He hugged Gonzo, his stuffed...whatever, to him (the fact that his mother had remembered to bring his favorite stuffed toy and the necklace his girlfriend had given him, but had forgotten the spanking implements endeared her to him greatly). Alison turned on the delta inducer and let him fall asleep. She just looked at him for a while. “I can do this,” said Alison. “I’ve done it before.” She left the room, meeting the expectant gazes of everyone else. “He’s fine now,” said Alison. She sat back down. “With the notable exclusion of some SPDs,” said Samantha “this has been the most drama filled day of my penny life.” “Perhaps this apartment was built over an old soap opera actor burial ground,” suggested Steven. “Why do we call it a “soap opera?” asked Talula. “I don’t even know,” said Steven. Maggie thanked Alison for having them over and made her daughters do the same. The McDonalds likewise thanked Alison and left. Then Alison sent along Malcolm’s text, woke up the boy and set the kids to get more work done on their homework. Then she lay down on her bed because she was exhausted. She really hoped Malcolm could keep the secret she just told him, but she thought she had to. He was smart, and she had smart kids before. As they get older, ‘this is for your own good’ becomes less and less believable. Decades ago, she and Jet had sat in Director Cartin’s office after passing all of their qualifications. He gave them a fancy certificate congratulated them on all of their effort and wished them all the lucking the world. Then he leaned in close and told them: “Seriously, we’re not looking for repeat offenders. If you can’t fix them, BREAK them.” Alison had not actually seen him since that day. In fact she did not know if he was still in that same job. She hoped he was not. She should probably check on that. Beside they had not even invented soft time yet. It was a much different system back then. She got her thoughts together, and started to get dinner ready. Hopefully the rest of their stay here would not be as crazy as this day. Sunday evening, Jet had more information for the family at dinner. “Okay,” he said to her once the children were occupied with finishing their school work. “Now I know how this whole thing happened: “This all started by a woman by the name of Virginia Wyde. We have her in custody. She got her hands on a scrapped parcel delivery hover drone (an ubiquitous site) and turned it into a disguised surveillance drone. It followed the Cummings twins to our house, circled a couple of blocks then came back and came back and took a picture of the kids. Then she posted the picture, saying the children in the picture were off world infiltrators. She censored the faces because she thought it was legal if you could not ID the kids. She was wrong. The folks on the forum thought she meant the kids were the Pizgarlen agents and then she took down the image. But not before WakeUpSheep64, aka Jimmy Bunkrel, triangulated the background landmarks to get our location then bragged about it, claiming he had pinpointed the house harboring the agents. We have him too.” “How did Fields’ get a hold of the picture?” asked Alison. “He saved it himself,” said Jet. “And that inside source he claimed he had? That was just something he made up.” “Shouldn’t there be SOMEONE on his show to make sure he does not do things like, oh I don’t know, invade people’s privacy!” asked Alison. “There was, but she called in sick that day,” said Jet. “Fields ALSO thought that it was legal as long as they were censored. He is out on bail, his trial for reckless endangerment is next week” “John Field’s show has less people checking on it than my homework,” said Samantha. “So is this over?” asked Alison. “Can we go home.” “Not just yet,” said Jet. Alison hung her head. “They want to be sure that enough people have heard that this whole thing was a hoax. But it probably will not be that long. Maybe a few weeks.” “Pardon the intrusion,” Amelia chimed in. “But Malcolm has a text message.” “Right here,” Alison taped the table the words manifested on the surface. Samantha tried to look at it and Alison hid it with her hand. Alison giggled as she read it, then looked at the boy. “You’re going to want to read this in private,” she closed it and allowed him to dash to his room, calling up the text on his desk once the door was closed. Malcolm, I loved your letter, it was the high point of my day. Why is it all the exciting stuff happens when I can’t see you! All I got were two paddlings and a hairbrush. I told my mommy and Jaydee about what happened with Henry, then I cried and stuff. Then we went over to Anthony’s and I talk to him about it too. It was the first time in a while that I had cried without being spanked. Is Talula really with Steve now? Let’s keep an eye on that. I know how you feel. I already miss you so much. It was bad enough when we could only see each other at school. I want to see you again. I want you to hug me and whisper that you love me. With all my heart and soul, Natalie P.S. I scored high on all of my practice tests. No extra spanking for me! Just as well, I don’t want my mommy to spank me. I’d rather get spanked by you. The final sentence made Malcolm weak in the knees. She wants me to spank her! he thought. Then he collapsed on the bed in despair. I finally found a girl I’m in love with who wants me to spank her, and I CAN’T HAVE SEX FOR THE NEXT EIGHTEEN TO THIRTY YEARS! He hammered his fists on the bed in frustration. Once he calmed down, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. She loves me, I found a great girl who is fun and nice and wants me to spank her. And look at me, what do I have to offer her? What prospects did he have? His degree was in a field that no one was hiring for, tack a criminal conviction on to that and he would never be getting the jobs he wanted. Of course there were rumors that the governance was considering enacting legislation to make it illegal to discriminate against ex-convicts, owing to a recent study that former pennies are far less likely to commit a crime than the average citizen. More and more, Paradisio was treating crime as a social problem rather than a war against criminals. But those were all ifs and maybes. Malcolm was looking into the future, and was it really possible to maintain a relationship over decades of childhood? The next week went fast, though it seemed longer while working on absentee assignments. The days just blended into each other: breakfast, homework, lunch, spanking, homework, holo, dinner, sleep, repeat. In between Malcolm and Samantha were using the holo software to get in some more extra curricular muscle coordination exercises and writing exercises (they did not contribute to their grades, but they carried no risk of spanking for wrong answers). The kids were getting good results and it filled the time, also it minimized their interaction with mom. It was having more of an effect on Alison than the kids, she was growing more and more irritable as she stared at the same beige walls all day. The kids looked forward to Dad coming home when she would go out for an evening walk. On wednesday, Alison brought home a variety of hair care products. “Malcolm,” she announced. “I am fixing your hair.” Malcolm rolled his eyes. Years ago his real mother had tried a variety of combinations of hair care products over a course of four years to try to tame his unruly head. Nothing had worked and any objection was pointless until she decided to give up. In this mother’s case she was already so worked up, Malcolm saw resistance as even more pointless and he followed her to the bathroom where she sat him on a tall stool next to the sink. One hour later, she stormed out of the bathroom and towards the door barely pausing to declare: “I’m going out!” Malcolm emerged from the bathroom with his hair just as spiked with bits of gel dripping from parts of it and two hair brushes stuck on either side. “Better women than her have tried,” he said. “She never had a chance.” On thursday, Malcolm finished his assignment early and took the liberty of getting out of his desk and laying on his bed. Then he just stared at the ceiling and thought about things. It was pretty clear to his sister that something was wrong. She set down her stylus and turned her chair towards the beds. “Malcolm,” she said. “Something’s wrong, I know it.” “Like you care,” said Malcolm. “Yes, I DO,” insisted Samantha. “What is wrong?” Malcolm took some time to think, then spoke. “Promise not to tell Natalie or Jaydee?” he asked as he turned his head towards her. “Yes,” she said. “Well, I don’t know if me getting together with Natalie was a good idea,” he said. “Why,” asked Samantha. “Two things,” he said. “She is this pretty little ball of joy and hope and I...All I see when I look in the mirror...is everything that I have done wrong. Everything that I have lost. Am I just using her to forget about how worthless I am?” “That’s all of us,” said Samantha without a hint of malice in her voice. “We all feel that way. We are MADE to feel that way. Maybe she is using you to feel better.” Malcolm mulled that over, then he spoke again. “Well, the other thing is that, optimistically, I might be up for completas in twelve years while the earliest she will be out is in twenty four. And there are SO many things that could happen. What if we mess something up again like we did with the notes? Penny relationships only look good at review hearings if they never lead to anything bad. There are twelve to thirty years ahead of us and I cannot guarantee that nothing bad will ever happen. I mean I don’t WANT to, but the difference between what I want and what actually happens are usually WAY different. And what if I get paroled before she does? How long will it be until she finally get completas status?” Samantha was quiet for a bit. She wanted to just shout out a simple answer that would fix everything but she could not think of one. She didn’t want Malcolm and Natalie breaking up, because that might hinder her plans to get some make-out time with Jaydee before the school year ended. “Malcolm,” said Samantha, “you’re not breaking up with her are you?” “I don’t want to,” said Malcolm as he rolled onto his stomach. “I love her.” “Children,” called out their father. “Please come in here.” The children rushed into his “Kids, said Jet, “I am also pleased to announce that we will be going home next week.” The children cheered. “The public spectacle of this incident has actually helped us. It was difficult to refute a vague rumor from the net, but when one of the colony’s most outspoken political advocates gets something so wrong he gets prosecuted over the debacle, well that story has legs. Now practically everyone had seen the image and knew it did not contain any genocidal agents. Also, Malcolm, the footage of you stuck in the air duct went a long way to convince the public that you were not a threat.” “WHAT!” exclaimed Malcolm. “They-they can’t release details of my crime!” Jet sighed. “They can and they did,” said Jet. “You see, Fields had already used that footage on his show, you were also featured on Paradisio’s Dumbest criminals” at this Malcolm’s anger visibly rose, “and we used the same footage to undermine his message of ‘the invaders must die.’ Malcolm,” Jet sensed the boy was about to shout something and placed his hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Think of it this way. Because you did what you did, Fields looked even more foolish.” That calmed the boy down a bit. “he looks so bad, he wanted to have all four of you on his show to apologize personally.” “No,” said Malcolm. “Well,” said Jet, “the corrections board already said no for you.” “Ah,” said Malcolm. “Oh!” said Samantha, “Can we kick him? Can we say yes if we get to kick him?” “Hey, maybe we can give him a scripture test!” suggested Malcolm. “And all the questions are about the New testament!” followed Samantha. “No way he’d pass that,” said Malcolm. “No, it is not up for discussion,” said Jet. “We are not responding to any offers he makes.” Malcolm and Samantha were allowed to watch the trial from on the holo on Monday, they were both disappointed when when Fields was only fined a hefty sum. Unfortunately, since he withdrew funds from his business accounts to pay his fine, because he thought it was the company’s fault anyway, he had committed a felony. A further investigation discovered that he had been embezz And so, on Friday, Mr Fields was on trial for embezzlement, as a repeat offender. Once again, Samantha and Malcolm knelt before the 2D image projected from the table. The viewing gallery was clearly split down the middle with all of the accused’s supporters on the right and everyone else on the left. Actually there had been a bit of a disagreement amongst his followers as to whether or not to sit on the right from the audience’s perspective or from the judge’s perspective. “Mr. Fields,” said Judge Spode (Malcolm was relieved to see Spode’s perpetual arrogance and contempt directed at someone who deserved it), “your actions demonstrate a perpetual disdain for the laws that govern our society one could conjecture *tink tink* that *tink tink* you believe...*tink tink*...Do I hear the click of knitting needles?” In the left side or the gallery, a 14 year old boy successfully suppressed a peal of laughter as he put his knitting back into his bag. “You owe me,” whispered the redhead woman next to him. “He said it,” whispered Ray, “It was totally worth it.” “I’ll have no more of that,” called out Judge Spode in the general direction of the audience. “Any more disruptions and I WILL clear the gallery. Now then where was I...Ah yes. I find you guilty of the unlawful appropriation of funds. And the greatest sentence I can place upon you is three to six cycles ages five to eleven, with a minimum of one hard time cycle.” He dropped his gavel. “WHAT DID THEY PAY YOU!” screamed Mr. Fields as he jumped out of his chair. “WHAT DO THEY HAVE ON YOU!” As the officers of the court hauled the kicking and screaming Mr. Fields away, his fans started an uproar. Malcolm just turned another corner. Then he stared at his reflection again. “What am I supposed to do?” asked Malcolm. One year ago, all he wanted was to be a starship engineer. That dream was much more distant now. What did he really want? “Natalie,” he answered. All of his thoughts were for her now. She was the only good thing in his life. The only thing he could bring himself to attach any hope to. “That’s what I want,” said Malcolm. “I want my hope back.” “JAAAAAAAAAAYDEEEEEEEEEEEE!” exclaimed Samantha, shocking Malcolm out of his introspective. He turned to see his sister barrelling down one hallway. He followed and saw his sister and Jaydee hugging and jumping together. HOW! His brain screamed. How had Jaydee- Oh no, she didn’t run away just to meet them? Oh they would get in so much trouble if-Wait, that would not happen, there was no way she could have- He turned his head, down another passageway, Natalie was standing, staring at him. She was wearing a sleeveless sundress with a floral print, and her hair was done up in a single ponytail with a matching ribbon. Upon her left wrist was the multi-color bracelet that Malcolm had given her for Christmas. Malcolm ran to her, and he left all of the doubts, anxieties, and worries he had over the last three weeks behind him. They embraced,and fell to their knees. “I missed you,” said the boy. “I love you.” “I love you more,” she said and they kissed. When they finally withdrew, Malcolm spoke first. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “It has only been three weeks. I had been counting down until the one month was up.” “Remember when Talula almost broke your window? And you and me didn’t go to get help like Jaydee and Samantha did?” said Natalie “Yeah,” said Malcolm. “Well they updated the rules on that,” said the girl excitedly. “And because we did nothing to obstruct them because we knew they were going for help and only stayed behind because we were trying to KEEP Talula from breaking something, we did the right thing and got spanked for the wrong reasons!” “What!” exclaimed Malcolm. “I know!” said Natalie. “So to make up for spanking us for doing the RIGHT thing (and because I have brought my homework grades up) they canceled our grounding and now we can see you.” The first thing that Malcolm thought of were all the things he should be demanding for being wrongly punished, but he quelled himself on that notion. Hard time pennies are not allowed to demand things. Instead he just kissed her again, relishing the warmth of her arms around him. They were barely conscious of the excited conversation between Jaydee and Samantha in the background. Eventually, the walls fell revealing their mommies and daddies, who took them back upstairs for lunch. Malcolm could not help but to notice that Natalie were shifting her seat. “Did you get your four steps before you came?” Malcolm whispered. “Yes,” Natalie admitted, “I got an extra early one, since I was the one that threw the tantrum three weeks ago.” She giggled. “Do you want to see my bottom?” “Uh…yeah,” admitted Malcolm and they both giggled and blushed. After a round of sandwiches, Malcolm pulled on his mother’s belt. “Mommy, can I talk to Natalie in private?” he asked. Mommy agreed after asking Mrs. Cummings. The two of them raced into the kids room. “Amelia, can you lock the door?” he asked. “At your authorization level,” her electronic voice chimed “I can only bar hard time pennies and below from-” “Yes, yes,” said Malcolm. “Whatever I can get.” “Who’s Amelia?” asked Natalie as looked around the room for where the voice had come from. “She’s the AI that runs things,” said Malcolm, hurriedly. “Now then, have you been naughty?” Natalie blushed. “Yes,” she said with a giggle. “And have you been spanked for it,” the tone of his voice becoming a parody of the insolence of office. “Yes, sir,” she said and she turned around, pulled up her dress with her left hand and pulled down her pink panties with her right, revealing a pair of pink bottom cheeks. Malcolm felt his heart racing at the sight. Then some of those nasty little doubts he had been feeling popped into his head. “Natalie,” he had to talk with her about this. It would be mean to put it off. “I need to ask you some serious questions. Natalie yanked up her panties and whirled around with a worried look on her face. “I love you,” he said, “so much. Knowing that I can see you is one of the only joys I have. You…” he took her face gently in his hands, “you’re so pretty, you’re clever, and you are always so nice.” “But…” said Natalie. “But I’m not,” said Malcolm. He let go of her face and started pacing back and forth. “When I’m not with you all I think of are all the things I have ruined, everything I have lost. I…I’m afraid that the only reason I am with you is because you are the only one who will never tell me how worthless I am. And I am terrified of hurting you and-” “I am not that nice,” Natalie interrupted him. “Malcolm, when Henry, the man who loved me more than my REAL father died I did not cry. That is not something nice people do. I mean…” Malcolm sat on the bed and she started pacing. “I mean who does that? Who just says: ‘I don’t need to cry’ and gets on with her life? That is what I do, that is what I always do I just push aside whatever isn’t nice and I do what I think people want. That is what I always do. Just don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it but it is still THERE! It just sits in the back of my brain and I don’t-I don’t-It just twists in there and you know I can’t even cry without a spanking. I cannot cry unless someone is hitting me and-!” she collapsed onto Malcolm’s bed on her stomach next to him. “I’m so twisted up inside…I’m afraid I’m going to choke myself.” Malcolm stroked her hair and rubbed her back for a bit. Then he spoke. “Natalie, do you want me to spank you?” he asked. “What?” she raised her head. “Do you want me to spank you?” he asked again. “So you can cry?” She thought about it, then said: “Yes.” Malcolm rose and started to walk to the door. It opened before he reached it. Mr. Cummings was standing there armed with Natalie’s paddle. He looked angry first, then he looked surprised. Malcolm guessed (correctly) that Natalie’s daddy had expected to come in and find Malcolm taking off her clothes and was surprised to find him getting ready to walk out. “Mr. Cummings,” Malcolm said. In the same way that one might find a few stray coins in a pair of pants on has not worn in a while, Malcolm had found confidence. “Natalie has asked me to spank her. But I will not proceed without your permission.” Mr. Cummings thought about it. “Malcolm,” he said, “You may. But I should not have to tell you that if you take this too far and violate Natalie, you will never see her again outside of school.” “Yes, sir,” said Malcolm. “Also,” said the man, “You will only spank her over her panties. Nothing bare bottom.” “Yes sir,” Malcolm repeated. Mr. Cummings handed him Natalie’s paddle and he left the room. The door shut behind him. Malcolm turned. Natalie had hid behind the bed. The boy circled around, placed the paddle upon the bed, and brought her up to her feet. “Natalie,” he said as he took her hands in his. “I am going to spank you.” Natalie blushed. “I am going to be mean about it. In fact I am going to do my honest best to make you cry. But if you think I am going too far, all you have to do is say ‘red light,’ and I will stop. Understand?” She nodded. “Good, now put up your arms.” He made her lift her arms, then he lifted up her dress and removed it completely. He folded it up and placed it on the dresser. Then he reached out and undid the ribbon holding her ponytail, spilling her brown hair upon her shoulders. He let her arms drop back to her sides. She stood wearing only her panties and her socks and saddle shoes. “Now then,” said the boy as he pulled the chair away from the homework desk. “I think a warm up is in order.” He snapped his fingers “Over my knee.” She obeyed, laying her bottom under his right hand and her head under his left. He patted her bottom with his hand. She gasped at his touch. He thought that touching a female bottom for the first time would give him a bigger thrill. But as soon as he did, the fact that it belonged to a six year old made him feel bad. He pushed all ideas of getting any kind of erotic thrill out of his mind. This was a catharsis session. Natalie needed him to focus. She’s still tender from her last spanking, Malcolm reasoned as he observed the pink flesh spilling out from her panties. It won’t take much force. Good thing when you consider my noodle arm strength. He brought his hand down, palm flat. Natalie gasped. She started breathing heavily. “This isn’t very hard you know,” he said. *SPANK!* “Can’t you even take these?” He picked up the pace. *SPANK!* *SPANK!* *SPANK!* *SPANK!* then he started doing a much slower pace with harder spanks as he spoke to her. “I think I know what you were thinking.” *SPANK!* “Maybe you were thinking-” *SPANK!* “-‘If I am just the best little girl in the world-” *SPANK!* “-Then maybe they won’t spank me-” *SPANK!* “-Or maybe they at least won’t spank me as hard.’” *SPANK!* “The kindest thing that I can do-” *SPANK!* “Is cure you of that delusion.” *SPANK!* Natalie let out a whine. She reached back instinctively to shield her bottom. Malcolm caught her right wrist in his left hand and pinned it to the small of her back (a maneuver that had been used on him enough). “SO!” said Malcolm as Natalie breathed deeper and deeper. “You might as well be honest about how you feel. There is no point in pretending anymore.” He let go of her right hand and stroked her hair as she rubbed her bottom, his hand needed a rest too. “Now, stand up.” She obeyed. He stood too. Her hair was a bit mussed up from rocking back and forth. He slowly raised his hand to place on her cheek, she recoiled a bit. Then she leaned into his touch and sighed. She placed both of her hands on his hand. He pulled back. “Now,” he ordered. “On the bed, for you paddling.” She hung her head and obeyed, laying stomach down on Malcolm’s bed. Malcolm retrieved the paddle and gave it a few practice swings. He taped Natalie’s pink bottom and she whined. “I am going to give you ten hard swats, and then we will talk,” he said. “Do you think that if you cry, I will stop loving you?” he asked. She was silent. “I asked you a question.” “No!” she said. “EEEEEEEEE!” she said through gritted teeth. “Do you think your parents will stop loving you?” “No!” she said through labored breathing “If you cry, will your mommy and daddy stop loving you?” “Will Jaydee stop being your sister?” “YES!” “Wait! What?” said Malcolm, he had not expected that. “That is what she told me!” shouted Natalie. “‘Stop crying we have work to do!’ That is what she told me and I just went along with it like I ALWAYS DO!” She stood up and confronted Malcolm. A damn in her mind had cracked and now things were spilling out. “THAT IS WHAT I ALWAYS DO!” She screeched at the top of her lungs and flung her arms up in rage. “BECAUSE I DON’T WANT THEM TO LEAVE ME! I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE!” She froze. “I don’t want to be alone,” she repeated. “That…that’s what it always…” he voice was hoarse from shouting. Malcolm abandoned any thought of continuing, dropped the paddle on the carpet, embraced her, and she cried. “I don’t want to be alone,” she said through her tears. Malcolm fell backwards onto Samantha’s bed and Natalie fell on top of him, crying into his shirt. “I don’t want them to leave me. I never did. I want to be with Henry again. I want him back. I want to be with Jade and Paco. I don’t want them to leave meeeeeheeeee.” She just wept and Malcolm rocked her back and forth. “I understand,” he said. She looked up though red eyes and a runny nose. He was able to reach out and retrieve a tissue from the nightstand and let her blow her nose. “Humans are not built to be alone,” he quoted his ethics professor. “It drives us crazy,” he hugged her tighter and she did too. “I could never forgive myself if I left you alone.” “I want to be loved,” said Natalie. “I love you,” said Malcolm. He kissed her again. “I actually feel kinda better now,” she said. “But my throat is sore.” “OH!” Malcolm remembered something. “I can help, let me up a minute.” Natalie rolled onto her side to let him up and he dashed to the bathroom. Over the sink was a convenient dispensing replicator for things like toothpaste and mouthwash. He touched a few buttons, held out his hand and a throat lozenge fell into it. Pleased with himself, he marched back into the bedroom and presented the soother to Natalie, who was lying on her stomach. “Here, suck on this,” he said. Natalie got up on her elbows, opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Then her father burst in the door. The children froze “Oh,” he said as he saw Malcolm placing a strawberry cough drop on Natalie’s tongue. He rubbed the back of his neck “It’s…a…lozenge…not-” there was a peal of laughter from the females in the living room. “Shut up!” he declared as he stormed out of the bedroom and the door closed behind him. Natalie closed her mouth on the drop and flopped back on her stomach, giggling at her daddy’s assumption. Malcolm lay down next to her. “I gotta say,” he said. “Our first spanking session didn’t turn out the way I expected.” “What did you expect?” she asked as she rubbed her bottom. “Well,” said Malcolm, “I thought after we escaped and made our way to earth we would grow into adults and then I would build a dungeon in our basement and-” “Wait, wait,” Natalie waved her hands. “How were we escaping?” “Oh,” said Malcolm, “see, a group of fanatical terrorists would kidnap our class and hold us hostage while they used an improvised craft to escape the planet, but we would turn the tables on them with stun-guns jury rigged from the delta inducers out of the craft’s hibernation beds, and we eject them in a pod and we get to Earth and then there is a big fight over our political asylum-” “You have thought this through,” commented Natalie as she started waving her feet back and forth. “Yeah,” admitted Malcolm. “Well let me just cut you off right there, because I am pretty sure I am not going back to Earth anytime soon. See, I am not at the center of a scandal that will rock the foundation of the federation. Do you know what the standard operating procedure is for dealing with an intelligence asset with the potential to ruin as many careers as I can?” “Um,” Malcolm sensed she was going towards a worst case scenario, “Debriefing followed by suicide mission.” “Naw,” she said, “I might survive that. It would be a debriefing followed by a hushed up assassination, or a trumped up charge and imprisonment on Pluto, or transfer to an extremely isolated listening post in orbit around Ouranos.” “Where’s Ouranos?” asked Malcolm. “It used to be called Uranus,” said Natalie, “but we changed the name because-” Malcolm fell onto his side on the bed laughing, “Yeah, that. Right there. That is why we changed it.” She reached out and hugged him and he hugged her back. “Speaking of which,” she continued, “Once were adults and having sex, no anal.” “Okay,” said Malcolm. “What, that’s it?” asked Natalie. “I thought all guys thought anal was like, the holy grail of sex?” “Not for me,” said Malcolm. “The human rectum is a bacterial minefield.” There was a peal of laughter from the living room. They kept forgetting that their parents were listening in on them! Malcolm postulated something in the nano web was making them forget it. “Let’s get your dress back on,” said Malcolm. they retrieved her dress and Malcolm helped her fix her hair in front of the tall mirror. “Also, full disclosure,” said Natalie as she gathered up her hair, “that time that Jaydee told me to stop crying and get the job done...we were actually being shot at in that moment.” “OOH!” said Malcolm. “So some leeway may be granted in the understanding that emotions were high. By the way,” he said as he held her ponytail in place as she tied the ribbon. “I wasn’t too scary? Was I?” “It actually kind of worked,” said Natalie. “You were scary, but you were confident. Kinda liked it. But don’t make it a habit.” “Okay,” said Malcolm. “Just when you ask for it. And I mean that literally! I don’t mean- like- when you’re jus-” “Yeah,” she said. “I know what you mean.” She turned her back to the mirror. Placed her left hand around his waist, looked behind her and raised up her skirt and lowered her panties wit her right hand so they could both see her freshly spanked bottom in the reflection. Malcolm blushed at his work. Natalie whispered in his ear: “Thank you for spanking my naughty little bottom.” Malcolm’s heart, momentarily, tried to escape his chest. She fixed her clothes and Malcolm escorted her to the living room, back into the custody of her parents. So many of his doubts died that day. How could he leave her now? Next Monday Natalie lay on the couch in Mrs. Darksong’s office. “When I was five years old,” said the girl, “My real mommy took me aside. She said that Daddy was having a lot of troubles, and that we had to do whatever we could to make him happy once he got home. I did exactly as she said, at least I thought I did, but Daddy still left for good four months later. Then it was just me and mommy. Six months later we were evicted...mommy could not find a job. I kept trying to make her feel better like she told me to do with daddy. Then she left me at the mall, told me she would be back in three hours. And I never saw her again.” “Natalie,” said Mrs. Darksong. “Do you think there is something you could have done differently to keep them in your life.” “I don’t know!” said Natalie. “I mean. Maybe if I...” “...Had given just the right innocent insight at just the right time,” said Mrs. Darksong, “You could have inspired your father and mother to stay?” “Something like that,” said Natalie. “I’m afraid it is never that simple,” said Mrs. Darksong. “No one would expect a five year old girl to grasp the interpersonal dynamics of a struggling marriage sufficiently to fix every problem, Especially considering adults usually go out of their way to conceal problems from the children. There is no way you were at fault.” “I don’t suppose you could give me a pill to make me believe that,” said Natalie. “I cannot,” said Mrs. Darksong. “But it worked on Henry,” said Natalie. “I did my very best to be nice to him and he did not go one single week without telling me how much he had come to love me or how wonderful I am. It worked! Being nice to people made their lives better!” “So,” said Mrs. Darksong, “Is it your job to improve the quality of life for everyone you meet?” “I...” said Natalie. “Are you saying I should not be nice to people?” “No. I am asking you if you think other people’s happiness is more important than your’s.” “I...maybe,” said Natalie. “It is better than the other way around.” “Indeed,” said Mrs. Darksong, “But there are people out there who are all too willing to exploit such an attitude. And if you are in a situation where you are receiving less than you are giving, you DO have the right to speak up.” “I know that,” said Natalie. “Our time is up for this week,” said the woman as she stood. “I am going to prescribe some positive mirror time for you. You should keep your spirits up, finals are almost a month away.” “Yes, Ma’am.” Said Natalie
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 * SPANK!* “Natalie, they do not care.” *SPANK!* “Anything short of saving a bus load of medicalos from a fire-” *SPANK!* “Doesn’t even show up on their radar.” *SPANK!* “Spanked if you do-” *SPANK!* “-Spanked if you don’t.” *SPANK!* “That is your world now.” *SPANK!* *SPANK!* *SPANK!* *SPANK!* *SPANK!*
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The End.