Disclaimer: All pre-existing characters are the property of the creators and Paramont Studios. No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author.

The only other occupant of the room looked up from a small view screen. It's light accentuating the greenish pallor of his skin.

"So you do see the recklessness of your behavior," came Spock's low reply.

Jim whipped his head around. That was an unexpected response. Did he detect a trace of anger in his tone? Although the expression on his face betrayed nothing, his Science Officer's censure seemed to echo throughout the empty room. Jim cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Something on your mind, Spock?"

The Vulcan's lips thinned as if weighing his reply.

"Come on, if you've got something to say, out with it."

"No, captain." Spock said at last.

Kirk snorted. "And they say Vulcans never lie."

"Nor are we superfluous."

Yes, he definitely discerned anger, "Humor me."

Spock paused again, then forged ahead with, "I am concerned with your conduct on this mission."

"And what's your concern, Spock?"

"Your blatant disregard for procedures."

Jim was shocked. Those were strong words from his first officer. "Blatant disregard?"

"First, Starfleet has initiated a ruling against command personnel participating in Away team missions."

The captain dismissed it with a quick wave of his hand. "A stupid rule, just a trial, it'll never fly."

"Secondly, you handled an extremely volatile incident unprofessionally."

Kirk interrupted with an impatience, "I accessed the computer's file on the correct procedure sanctioned by the Dradovan High Council."

Spock continued unruffled. "If you had paid more attention to your comlink, you would have known we had a communique from Starfleet stating our information was incomplete."

"I've attended hundreds of thousands of these affairs, Spock." Kirk said smugly.

"Enough to know this was a trying, psychically demanding procedure that required the full attention of its participants."

"It had my full attention."

Spock shook his head slowly. "If I recall, Dr. McCoy had just finished a stress test on you that showed your response and concentration time down by 12.342%."

"Well within acceptable parameters." Jim mumbled.

"His advice was, if you had to go, you should rest before the conference."

With a quick look of discomfort, he protested, "I did rest. . .in my own way. . ."

"His tests also showed your judgement and comprehension down by 17.965%, and that was not within acceptable parameters. If a crew member had ignored the good doctor's advice, he'd be on report."

"But I'm the captain. . ."

"Which means you should know better."

Jim had the grace to blush as he looked down at his clenched hands. "Granted, I was a bit. . . " he hesitated, "overzealous."

Spock shook his head slowly, "Not the word I would use, captain."

"I apologized to the Dradovan High Council."

"He did not accept your apology."

Jim looked up sharply. "Where did you hear that?"

"From the Councilhead."

"He didn't say anything when we talked!"

"I spoke with him only moments ago."

"And. . .?"

"I finally convinced him to disregard the matter."

Kirk breathed a felt relieved. "Good!"

"Only because Dradova desperately needs Federation support. He likened your behavior to that of an undisciplined child."

Jim cringed. "Undisciplined child."

"That is not a direct quote. . ."

"Spare me. I haven't blundered this badly since I was in Academy." He began to pace again. "I realize you think I have too much impulsiveness in my make-up, even for a human."

"Yes, captain." Spock agreed with a nod. "I do."

"This time, I'm sorry about that too. There's usually a better outcome when I trust my instincts. . . I don't know what got into me."

"The suggestion that you slow your impulsiveness made several times before."

Jim waved the comment away impatiently, "I know, I know."

"You have a perpetuity for recklessness that, at times, becomes tedious."

Jim stopped his restless stalking and drew himself up angrily. "I don't think I like your tone, mister."

Spock remained unimpressed. "Your defensiveness will not alter the facts, captain."

"So, you do remember that I'm the captain?," Jim chided Spock's tone.

"The question is: Do you?"

"Meaning?" Jim's eyes narrowed.

"Meaning that recently you have conducted yourself in the manner of an irresponsible juvenile."

"Now, don't you think that you're going a little too far?"

"No, I believe my assessment to be accurate."

"I was entirely competent in my actions." He paused, then continued sheepishly. "Up to a point." He paused again, then continued with more conviction. "Sometimes the ends can justify the means."

"I believe the doctor's response would be, 'Hogwash'."

Kirk's mouth closed with a snap. "Do you plan to make a report to Star Fleet Command?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"

"To have my 'impulsiveness' noted on my record."

"An exercise in futility." He answered, shaking his head slowly.

"Is that disgust I hear, Spock?"

"An emotion I am incapable of, captain. Though, at this moment, I am as close as a Vulcan can come to it."

Jim was clearly shocked. "I thought you'd be used to me by now."

"Sometimes you are too much even for me."

Jim chuckled.

"I assure you, captain, I am not amused. I would seek a solution to your impulsiveness."

"Solution?"

"Yes."

"I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Spock. I've been this way forever." Jim shook his head and then, with a wry grin, added, "Except, I must say, my mother did succeed in slowing me down a bit when I was younger."

"Oh? Might I ask what method she employed?"

"We had a discussion with me over her knee and a hairbrush connecting with my very vulnerable rear end," Jim shuddered and then laughed. "I believe Bones would call it the good old days."

Spock didn't answer but continued to study him thoughtfully.

Jim turned, ready to leave and said, "Well, maybe Bones was right and I do need a rest. I'm really sorry I moved so impulsively."

"I seek a more positive assurance," Spock interrupted as he stepped in front of the captain. "As a matter of fact, I feel confident I could insure it not happen again for a long while."

"Oh?" Jim's eyebrows raised and his tone was composed, but he took a step backward. "How?"

"Perhaps a more parental approach should be incorporated."

"Parental?" Jim stepped back another step and looked at Spock suspiciously.

"Your mother's, to be more precise."

Jim looked baffled for a moment then his face flushed crimson as he sputtered, "You aren't suggesting. . ." he seemed to struggle for the next breath, "You seemed to forget, I was six. . .or seven at the time! How could you be suggesting. . .no, it's too ridiculous!"

Spock shook his head. "Not true, captain. It was a method that worked and nothing else has since." He paused, "It seems the logical thing to do."

"I'm an adult. . .adult males don't get spanked."

"Age and gender have no bearing on immature behavior. Adults who behave like irresponsible children might need spanking."

Jim laughed nervously. "Now, Spock, this conversation borders on the absurd," Jim started backing away. "You're joking."

"Vulcans do not joke. You have been reprimanded by the Federation before. It does no good. You deserve a punishment or reprimand for this behavior which would force you, next time, to think before you leap into action. You have told me that your mother's method worked; therefore, it is logical to use her method." Spock nodded toward the portal. "Perhaps your quarters would afford us more privacy."

Jim came up against the door and it slid open with a soft whoosh. "Spock, you can't believe I'll agree to this."

He stepped out into the corridor with the captain and allowed the door to close behind him. "I don't need your accordance. As did your mother, I have the advantage of superior strength."

"I'm your captain!"

Spock regarded him placidly.

Jim backed slowly down the hall. "Spock, my mother couldn't spank me today."

"No," he said calmly, following him, "But I can."

"Spock . . . "

"You said that she used a hairbrush. Yours?"

Jim shook his head. "Hers."

"If you give a description to the computer, I'm certain an adequate replicate can be produced."

"Actually," Jim said as Spock started toward the turbolift, "I have my mother's brush and mirror tucked away in the bottom drawer of my dresser."

"Excellent, then we can go on," Spock said as he stepped into the lift and pulled Jim along. The door closed behind them and he gave the command that would take them to the captain's level. They rode the short distance in silence.

A few seconds later the doors opened again. Spock stepped off and began walking toward Jim's quarters.

Jim followed him slowly, wondering why he was following him at all. At the door he stopped, "Spock, I won't allow this."

"You have no choice in this matter. With or without your consent, this will be done."

Jim looked down at the floor and took a deep breath. Within his heart he admitted that Spock could easily subdue him, but he was the captain and he couldn't surrender meekly.

Spock crossed over to his dresser, opened the drawer and looked down into it. "What's this?"

Jim came up behind him and peered over his shoulder. "Dad's razor strap," Jim answered him with a shiver.

"Razor strap?"

"Err, Dad used it when I got older."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Something not worth mentioning before?"

Jim shook his head. "I'd rather forget it altogether. It was a little worse when I got it from him."

"Perhaps a taste of both would be good for you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"A certainty, captain," Spock said calmly, and without a trace of humor. "Now, the mechanics are performed over the knees, correct?"

Jim nodded, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment.

Spock again raised an eyebrow. "And you've omitted nothing else?"

"Else?" Jim hesitated. "No."

"Then we will add lying to your previous offenses." He paused for effect. "Strip, captain."

"What?!"

"It seems to me that since you are a grown man, it would be more logical to remove any obstacles, no matter how insignificant." He was silent a moment and Kirk thought he saw the ghost of a smile. "To truly get to the seat of the difficulty, so to speak."

"You want me to. . .to take down my pants?" Jim's eyes were wide and his fists clenched.

"I believe the command was to 'strip'."

"I don't think. . ."

Spock held up a restraining hand. "I am giving you the opportunity to retain some aspect of your dignity." He paused, "You are aware I need not ask . . . understand that I will not ask again." He waited and when Kirk failed to comply, took a step towards him.

Jim sprang into action. "No. . .no. . .I'm taking them down. . .see. . .there, they're down. . .down to my ankles. Are you satisfied?"

"The briefs too. . ."

"Come on, Spock, aren't you. . ."

Spock started toward him again.

"Alright!. . .okay, I'm doing it . . . see, down to my ankles too. There are you happy?"

In lieu of a reply, Spock drew out a chair and settled into it. "Come here."

Jim hesitated only a second before shuffling to Spock's right side and slowly bending over. He let himself drop and caught himself with his hands. His bare bottom tilted up in a target formation, but he had braced himself with his palms and feet on the floor, his stomach barely touching Spock's thighs.

Spock lifted the hairbrush and then, with a zing of air, brought it down smartly. It landed with a loud crack on Kirk's taut backside. The sharp pain was such a surprise that Jim lost his balance and let his hands and feet slide until he was finally resting on Spock's lap.

"Owwwwwwww! That was harder than I remembered my mother's."

"I have compensated for your size and the level of your offense."

"You said parentally!"

"She would approve." And that was the end of the talk as Spock lifted the hairbrush and made a red imprint on the other cheek. Jim didn't cry out. He jumped, but he didn't cry out for ten more smacks.

At the eleventh, he yelled, "Stop! Stop! I've learned!" He feet kicked and his hands came up to protect his sore rump.

"You risk serious injury to your hands, captain!" Spock said and landed a blow to the palms of Jim's hands. After several smacks he changed his tactics and brought the brush down hard on the upper thigh. Six thigh smacks later, Jim moved his hands back to the floor. He drummed on the floor with his hands and continued kicking his feet although he tried valiantly to keep the yelling down to a minimum. He certainly didn't want the computer alerting security or for anyone to come and see what was going on. This indignity would remain their little secret. Forever!

The smacks of the hairbrush kept his bottom jiggling. He could feel the impact impress the skin even as it smarted and ached. Kirk could feel his flesh rebound and then quiver from the onslaught of the hairbrush. He hardly had time to recover from one stroke when another one landed his other cheek. Soon there was a pattern; left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek, dead center, dead center. Then it would repeat, and repeat, and repeat. On and on, endlessly.

He moved this way and that and wagged his bottom to escape, but Spock was methodological and precise. Every stroke landed. Every stroke was even and hard. Every stroke was meant to be remembered for a long time to come.

"Owwww! Spock! Please stop! That's enough! You've made your point!"

Spock didn't answer with anything but the brush. Repeatedly the smacks rained down on Kirk's bare bottom. The red had turned to a deep crimson and began to blend to purple in areas.

"Owwwwwww! I can't take anymore!" Jim cried and then twisted his head down so Spock couldn't see the tears he could no longer stem.

Spock went on with the spanks until the sobbing was as loud as the cracks of the wood on the bare skin. Finally Spock stopped and let Jim roll off his lap.

Jim grabbed at his bottom and howled. He rocked on the floor and pumped his bare legs. His pants and underwear had been kicked off long ago.

"And now what comes next?" Spock asked, dispassionately.

Jim shook his head as he howled out. . . "No! Asking me to stand in a corner is too much. . .I refuse!"

"Then we will proceed with the strapping." He said sedately.

"Strapping?!"

"Yes, an adult who can't learn to control compulsive behavior deserves both."

"Not the strap! Not after that hairbrush! It's inhuman!"

"It is my Vulcan half that says you need this lesson."

"No, Spock. . ." Jim kept rubbing at his abused posterior.

"Either the corner or the strapping. Choose."

"I don't want either!" Kirk hissed as he angrily wiped the moisture from his face with the back of his hand.

Spock only waited patiently, his eyes never leaving the captain's face.

Finally, Jim got to his feet slowly with his hands still digging at his burning backside. He stumbled into the corner and gave out little hiccuping sobs as he rubbed his bottom. He rested his head against the corner and knew he wasn't looking forward to a strap. Kirk might deserve it but, if he had forgotten how awful that hairbrush was, he certainly had blocked out the ordeal of the strap. He never wanted the experience again after the last one his dad had given him. He couldn't believe that he was someone going to get another strapping years and years later when he should be strapping his own kids. The worse part was that Spock would give every bit as good, if not better, than his dad had.

Jim fidgeted in the corner. He had forgotten how terrible it was to stand in one and know that he was being observed. Spock was probably analyzing him. Examining the degree of redness, comparing it to previously documented levels of discomfort and pain; calculating just how much force to exert with the strap to drive his point home. Yes, he'd have the equation computed to the last decimal before continuing.

Jim felt foolish. Even if Spock wasn't thinking how absurd he looked in this infantile position, how would he ever be able to look him in the face again? Still, wasn't it a bit of justice for him? And wasn't it a relief that no one else on the crew know about this? He did have small favors to be grateful for.

Jim moved from foot to foot. He was tired of standing in this corner and feeling his bottom throb. He restlessly shifted again.

"Impatient, captain?" Spock asked quietly.

"Couldn't we forget the rest? Honestly, you've made your point."

"Come here," Spock said and got up from his chair and walked over to a nearby table. He pointed to the floor in front of it and waited.

Jim walked over and stood where he had said.

"Lie flat and grasp the edge with your hands.

Jim bent over the table's top and gripped the rim. He could feel his bottom tighten in anticipation. He wanted to beg Spock not to do this, but the words refused to come. Besides, he didn't believe it would do any good, and he would only feel more humiliated by it. "I truly hope this works better than when your mother did it," Spock said and took his place beside Jim.

"My mother didn't use the strap. And I didn't get the strap and the hairbrush ever."

"Please remember that, should you begin to feel impulsive again, this will be the outcome."

"Now wait a minute. . . " Jim said, standing straight up and turning to face him.

"Resume the position."

"You aren't going to ever do this to me again."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "If you behave irresponsibly again, this will happen again." He declared calmly.

"On whose authority?"

Their eyes locked, then he said with icily finality. "Your second-in-command's."

Jim stared at him for a moment, weighing his strength against Spock's, trying to gauge his commitment. Finally, he capitulated and lay over the table again. He could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped its edge. He tried not to let his buttocks quiver, but they seemed to have a mind of their own. Jim knew what to expect this time. . . or at least he though he did.

He was wrong! The first crack with the strap took him beyond his tolerance for pain. He jumped up and grabbed his bottom and danced all over his quarters. It was like a line of fire had been placed across his two buttocks.

"Comply, or I will tie you."

"All right. . .all right," Jim said as he drew a deep breath and bent over.

The next stroke wasn't quite so bad. The third one was horrible. The fourth one made him yell and the fifth one brought him back to his feet again. Spock pointed to the table, but Jim shook his head as he continued rubbing and looking at him blankly. Finally, Spock left the room. Jim sighed his relief. It was over. Or so he thought. It wasn't long before Spock returned with a length of cord that would hold the strongest of men down.

"Bend over."

Jim backed away. "No, you're putting too much strength into it! Those five were worth twenty of my dad's!"

"Bend over." Spock repeated, softly.

The tone of Spock's voice compelled him to obey although he could hardly force himself to. In a flash he felt the cord about his middle and then about the base of the table. Next Spock twined the cord about his right forearm and then the left one. It didn't take long for Spock to truss him up so there was no possibility of his escaping. Jim felt his buttocks quivering and shaking. They seemed to be the only other thing on him that could move. He could turn his head, but when he tried to look back over his shoulder and saw Spock with the strap raised, he knew that he didn't want to watch.

He turned to the front again quickly and closed his eyes. But when his lids were lowered, they sprang back open and his mouth opened to let out a yeow of pain that filled the room and seemed to echo out into the halls.

Jim kicked his feet and yelled again before the strap landed the next time. Then he took a deep breath and tried to get control of himself. He didn't remember it being this bad with his dad and he was even more embarrassed than he had been as a kid. Perhaps no one was meant to take a paddling and then a strapping.

It seemed the more he tried to take control of his body, the more intense the pain became. The strap zinged through the air and swished across his bottom with a crack like a bull whip. Jim couldn't keep his wits about him. He yelled out loud. He screamed bloody murder.

Jim tried reminding himself he was a Starfleet officer and trained to withstand torture by an enemy. . .but it wasn't the same! This was no enemy, this was Spock. Kirk wasn't being tortured for Federation secrets, he was being strapped like a schoolboy by a friend and fellow officer. This wasn't mindless torture for sadistic reasons, this was punishment for a legitimate offense. In the event of an enemy torture, pride and adrenaline would take over and carry him through. He had no defenses this time because he knew he had been in the wrong and the punishment was justified.

Perhaps it was right that he feel this pain in his physical body -- it only matched that in his heart because of his mistake. Perhaps Spock was right and the logical manner was a good way to take care of the pain. Jim let his head come up and he let out his sobbing anguish again and again until it was on long scream of pain. When the scream had gone on like a primal scream for several minutes, Spock seemed to think that Jim had finally had enough and allowed him to rest.

Jim let his head drop to the table's cool surface and let the tears come unrestrained. He was hurting, but afterward the guilt would be over. It was always over when he was punished as a kid. Then he'd be free. He didn't know if he should thank Spock. Now with his butt flaming, he wasn't in the mood. Besides, Spock had enough confusion about human emotions without adding this to his file. Jim would cry it out, get over it and hope that Spock never did this again. His thoughts were premature. Jim gasped as Spock renewed his effort to make Jim aware of his bad habit. The strap fell across his trembling cheeks as Spock asked, "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, sir," Jim answered and then howled out his "Owwwww!" as the strap landed a dozen more times. This time when the strap stopped, Spock loosened the cord about Jim's waist and arms. Jim didn't take any chances and danced away from the table though he hardly felt like he could move. He didn't want Spock to think that he wanted any more.

Once he got to his feet with his hands raking at his bottom, he began a spanking dance that was as embarrassing as standing in the corner had been. Spock didn't move but watched with cool composure as Jim tried to calm the heat in his bottom. Finally as the dancing slowed, Spock said, "That is what impulsiveness feels like, I hope you remember if tempted again."

Jim nodded and went on rubbing his bottom. He danced over to his bed and dropped across it face down. He didn't hear the door open but he did hear Spock said, "Good night, captain," as if everything was back to normal.

James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise was present on the bridge, strolling leisurely by each post, unchanged. He conscientiously avoided his command chair for the next five days and took is meals in his quarters. If anyone thought it odd, no one gave comment. What did draw the doctor's attention was that Jim didn't attempt one impulsive thing for several months.

Later, after several stressful missions, he again ordered him to sickbay for a complete physical which, after a word from Spock, Jim humbly submitted to. And he again suggested the captain take a rest before they continued their journeys. To the doctor's surprise, Jim ordered shore leave, and took extended rest time himself, also after a word from Spock. The doctor questioned each relentlessly to learn what was going on, but both men remained stoic in their silence.

Other than that, it was business as usual.