It was silent for a moment and then Kurt took a breath and reached down to his schoolbag. Blaine eyed him with curiosity and then with chagrin as he saw him pull a small wooden spoon out and place it on the sofa between them.
"Y-you—" Blaine stammered, a little shocked. "You went all the way back to Bushwick f-for—?"
"No," Kurt interrupted. "I bought this at the store around the corner. I didn't know if Mercedes even had one, but either way, I'd been thinking we probably need to keep one here somewhere anyhow. Not just for me to—use it. You should have it, where you see it here every now and then. As a reminder."
Blaine looked forward, uncomfortable. "Because I can't be trusted," he murmured ruefully.
"No, Blaine—" Kurt said, concern in his voice now. "Even if I get upset with you sometimes, you have to know that—all of this—is always just about trying to support you being your best self. Helping you avoid the kinds of choices that leave you feeling badly about yourself. You know that. I got it because this way you can't tell yourself it isn't a possibility here, or forget the consequences you have coming if you make certain choices."
Blaine made a face. "I guess I probably knew a spanking with the spoon could be coming this weekend, I just didn't want to think about it very much."
"No, I'd imagine not," Kurt said plainly.
"I was just kind of pinning my hopes on you maybe being…more lenient," Blaine confessed.
"Well. Maybe if you hadn't persisted in dishonesty, young man, I could have been," Kurt scolded pointedly.
Blaine looked at the floor, sheepish.
"Was there ever any question I'd feel this sort of offense would call for a bottom warming?" Kurt pressed.
"No, sir." Blaine admitted.
"Right. And Rachel pled your case pretty well too, so like I said I decided it wasn't fair to make you wait for days. But thought about it and realized I've taken the spoon to your backside for lesser fibs than this before, and you know it. I'm not going to go backwards with the standards I hold for you. And I do promise I've taken into consideration my part in this, so I'm not going to go overboard by any means. It's not going to be like you robbed a bank or something, but I'm afraid a little hand spanking alone isn't going to cut it this time."
Blaine shrunk into himself a bit, holding his tongue. A piece of him wanted to argue and defend himself but he couldn't honestly say that Kurt was being anything but consistent. There were only a few offences that drove Kurt to bring out implements at all, particularly with Blaine. Rachel was more inclined to try to get away with the same transgression multiple times, or to pitch a fit when informed that consequences were coming and shoot herself in the foot by having the audacity to act so bratty about it that Kurt felt he needed to up the ante with the hairbrush on general principle. Blaine rarely pushed back directly on Kurt's authority when it came down to it, and took pains not to earn increased discipline for repeat offences when he could help it. So on the rare occasions he got a spanking with a spoon at all, it was almost always related to dishonesty or safety considerations that Kurt deemed non-negotiable. Blaine didn't like it, but he couldn't truthfully say he was surprised.
"You have something to say?" Kurt pressed.
"I'm sorry I disobeyed you and then lied about it, sir," Blaine pushed himself to say.
"I would hope so. Now, young man," Kurt added, "I expect you to go stand over there and think about how you might have avoided these consequences," he said, pointing to a corner of the living room.
Blaine grimaced, quickly receiving a reproachful look from Kurt in reply. "Yes, sir," he quickly muttered, miserably pushing himself to his feet, resigned, and heading over to the corner. The thought of Kurt lighting a mini-fire across his bottom soon was not pleasant, but having to stare at the wall as a precursor to that added a childish humiliation to the mix Blaine had a particular distaste for. Kurt didn't always make him do that when he was in trouble, and Blaine nearly always felt like it was overkill because by the time he was sentenced to the corner he already felt pretty sorry for whatever he'd done. But after all the time they'd had this arrangement, he knew better than to debate the nuances of his discipline at a time like this.
The other reason Blaine wasn't particularly fond of having to stand in a corner is that he wasn't terribly good at it. Not a minute into standing there he was shifting from one foot to another, impatient. He knew better than to whine or complain from the corner, but his fingers tapped impatiently against each other, grousing in their own way. He knew he would soon be over Kurt's knee, likely getting a spanking that would result in tears in addition to a red backside. When it was just Kurt's hand he cried roughly half the time at least a little, but any more than a couple swats of the spoon was a virtual guarantee he'd be weeping by the end of a punishment. His bottom flexed just thinking about the sharp sting the spoon could bring. It was nerve-racking knowing it was coming, and knowing he'd probably fight the sobs because it always felt embarrassing at first, even if it was expected. If I could just focus and get through it and not end up a puddle of crying that'd be cool. Ugh. Kurt. Come on. It was weird wanting his corner time to speed up while at the same time not particularly wanting to face the music of the good old-fashioned spanking he had coming. He really wished he'd behaved and tried to go to his class on Saturday in the first place like he'd been supposed to.
"Is there a problem, Blaine?" came Kurt's voice in his ear suddenly.
"N-no, sir," Blaine stammered back.
"Well it seems like you're having trouble standing still in the corner. I
thought that was a pretty basic expectation for you to meet."
Blaine's throat felt dry. "Um—I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean—I was just—" Blaine stuttered, trying to come up with a defense.
"You're just scattered, let's see if this helps you focus," Kurt interrupted, abruptly pulling Blaine's sweatpants and underwear to his knees.
Blaine gasped and tensed, expecting to feel a punishing swat to his bottom as he stood there, but it did not come.
"Three minutes. You think you can stand here for three minutes now without fidgeting around?" Kurt asked, low.
"…yessir," Blaine whispered, his bare bottom now feeling on display and vulnerable. "I'll do as you expect," he added meekly.
"See that you do."