Two households each with a male heir, both alike in dignity, on the fair Starship Enterprise, where we lay our scene.  One pureblood boy fits in well, becoming a favorite of the powerful Captain, the pride of his mother and a prince.  The other, a half-breed, with a strict unbending father has problems with his lot.  In life, they meet not, but technology provides a way to eliminate the eighteen year gap in their birthday dates and provide relief for a strong but troubled youth.  If you with patient eyes attend, what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend in naught but five hundred words.

The following story is fiction about a teen/teen strapping.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave Now.  Star Trek is the property of CBS Studios Inc.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to e-mail.

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Alexander Rozhenko was an angry boy although he would have insisted that he was a young man.  He knew that was true for he saw the signs of maturity whenever he saw himself naked.  He was not as angry as when he came to live with his father on the Enterprise, but everyone knew that he was a wild one.  It is said that "little pitchers have big ears" and many a time he had heard adults comparing him to another ship's officer's son – Wesley Crusher – who had been the best in every damn way.  He was irritated and curious enough to search through the ships logs to learn more about this "angel".  Alex even used his father's access codes to be able to read more than just the public logs.

He soon discovered that this angel not only had feet of clay but legs as well.  Strangely however, people did not remember Wes' crimes and always praised him.

Although Alexander knew that the past was fixed and that Wes was already past thirty, the holodeck could provide a way for justice – well, frontier justice anyway.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alexander was ready when the sixteen-year-old goody-goody boy, Acting Ensign Wesley, slipped out of his mother's quarters with a bottle.  As they approached the lift the twelve year old pounced.  "And just what are you doing with Antarean brandy, young man.  You know that you are not allowed to drink and certainly not to try to corrupt others."  Wesley was caught with the goods and everyone knew that there was a major party this evening.  The lift opened and Alex commanded: "Get in."

A few minutes later, they were in a storage room.  "I don't want to hear a word from you.  If the Captain knew what you were about, you would lose that fancy title.  Now, drop your pants so that I can sear your cute little butt, boy."

Wesley was afraid to refuse.  Perhaps if he had back when Alex first challenged him but now it was too late.  He dropped his pants and leaned over a crate.

"You're getting thirteen.  Get up and we start over." snarled Alexander as he pulled the heavy belt out of his pants, got into position and swung.

Wes yelled in pain.  This was a new and very unpleasant sensation.  Alexander laughed and delivered the second stroke.  This was great fun.  Ten minutes later Wesley was laying on the floor, holding his red hot swollen ass bawling his eyes out.

Alex opened the bottle and encouraged Wes to take a slug which he did.  He sprinkled some all over Wes including the burning cheeks and gave it to Wes to take another sip.  Wes took many great sips.

Alexander went to the party in good spirits.

When sneaking back into his quarters, hours past his curfew with a swollen head and a very sore ass, Wesley encountered his irate mother who instantly diagnosed a massive hangover.  Lacking an acceptable explanation, he was grounded without medication.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L.  July 14, 2010