Blaine's breathing was shallower as he determined not to misstep this time. He felt smaller, vulnerable. This was always sort of embarrassing, which he supposed was a bit the point. But they'd never done this in his new place, where theoretically Sam and Mercedes could burst through the door at any time. He knew that Kurt would never take a risk like that; he surely went out of his way to make sure there was no way they were going to be getting back home anytime soon. But it felt different than in the loft somehow.
His gaze fixed on the wallpaper, eyeing a crack in it he'd never noticed before. He imagined Kurt, settled on the sofa behind him, watching the clock as he stood there with his bare bottom on display. He wondered what he was thinking. He remembered how Kurt had said he was being childish on Saturday and how offended he'd been at that. But he had to admit that he had been sort of childish in the end after all. Now of course, per their arrangement, he was feeling very much like a child.
Still, he felt oddly calmer now somehow. He remembered all the anxiety he'd felt, worrying about Kurt finding out, and the guilt he'd carried all these days. Here, at least, he knew what to expect, more or less. It seemed like Kurt had thought it through, and that he wasn't mad anymore, just stern. He doesn't hate me at least. He's not going to go easy, but he said he wouldn't go overboard. It's never been more than I deserved, and it's not like it's the first time. Been here before, probably will be again I suppose.
Kurt cleared his throat. "Okay, time to come here, young man," he said quietly.
Submissive, Blaine turned and toddled forward, not having any permission to pull his clothes back up and not expecting to get it. He felt obliged, oddly, to modestly cover his front, even though it was his backside he probably should be more concerned about, and obviously Kurt was quite familiar with how he looked naked. His eyes blinked at a wetness, unwilling to let tears flow already.
"What was that like?" Kurt inquired.
Blaine didn't expect the question. "…humbling," he answered honestly.
Kurt nodded. "Practicing doing as your told in the small things is likely to help you to do what your told in the larger things," he advised.
Blaine didn't know if that was true or not, but he nodded. "Yes, sir," he whispered, still trying to keep those tears in place.
"We agreed you would keep up with your app and the class on Saturday for your own good, did we not?" Kurt asked.
"Yes, sir," Blaine agreed automatically.
"And in the loft Saturday morning I recall being extremely clear that I expected you to go straight to your class."
"Y-you were sir."
"And beyond that, has there ever been any question about how I feel about sneaking around or dishonesty?"
Blaine squirmed uncomfortably as he felt his shame envelop him.
"Has there?" Kurt pressed.
"No, sir," Blaine conceded.
"Then it should be no surprise to you that you've earned good spanking, young man. I'm going to warm that bottom up with my hand for these indiscretions and then you will be spanked with the spoon as well as a reminder of your obligation to be honest with me."
Blaine's face contorted miserably. "I know, sir. I'm sorry," he added.
"Here, then," Kurt ordered, indicating his lap.
Blaine hesitated a moment, and then hated himself for his hesitation. Just do it. Get it over with. He'd certainly been over Kurt's knee enough times to know what to do, but somehow he suspected no one really just bends over a knee easily most of the time. Certainly not Rachel…
"Is there a problem?" Kurt asked, stern.
"I—n-no sir," Blaine stuttered, swallowing. "Just nervous I guess?" Blaine confessed, embarrassed.
Kurt nodded and reached a hand out to Blaine, who took it. Kurt led Blaine over his knee.
"However you're feeling, you're expected to obey, young man," Kurt scolded lightly as he adjusted Blaine forward.
"Y-essir," Blaine muttered, intensely aware of his vulnerability now.
Kurt, not wasting time, responded with a quick SMACK to the bottom across his knee.
Blaine winced.
"We've discussed that I mishandled some things when I was sick. You were upset, and understandably so. But your responsibilities don't change based on how you happen to feel."
"Yes sir. I should have gone to class, I'm sorryyy—ow-OW-" Blaine was startled as a series of fast swats flurried down on his bottom suddenly. He closed his eyes, trying to focus and ignore the sting somehow.
"You always have the choice to meet expectation or not, young man. But if you don't meet expectation you're going to be disciplined," Kurt pronounced, aiming a hard SMACK to Blaine's sit spots that elicited a whimper.
"I imagine you thought it would feel good to blow off you class. Does this feel good?" Kurt asked, laying a steady rain of sting to Blaine's bottom as he spoke.
Blaine's breath stuttered, the warmth on his backside increasing. "N-n-no, sir," he confessed, with as much dignity as he could muster.
"It hurts?"
"Yessir," Blaine whined.
Kurt spanked both cheeks in response, and Blaine writhed, startled. "Good. It's meant to. You knew better, young man." Kurt continued to spank Blaine, and Blaine felt the tears finally tumble from his eyes as he groaned at the sense of not being able to escape. It was often like this, where Blaine tried to be stoic early on but broke down as the spanking continued. It wasn't that Kurt was spanking any harder than he had at the beginning, but the cumulative sting was hard to ignore and as Blaine tired he started to feel more and more helpless to the onslaught.
"Sirrrr, I'm s-s-orrryyy," he begged tearfully.
Kurt stopped, stern. "You better be, young man. If Amy hadn't revealed your ruse you might still be keeping these shenanigans from me, so I can't say that I've got a lot of sympathy right now. You knew what the consequences for these kinds of choices were."
Kurt picked up, the spoon and tapped Blaine's bottom with it lightly. Blaine, having now lost any pretense of holding it together, cried into the sofa, feeling sorry for himself. Kurt lifted the spoon and SWATted it back and forth three or four times, quickly eliciting a teary nonsensical apology and a twisting fiancé, struggling as though ready to swim right off his lap. Kurt paused, holding Blaine tighter in place. "When you know better, I expect you to do better, young man," he scolded when Blaine's whining quieted.
"Yesssirrr," Blaine murmured in misery.
"I don't like having to punish you, but you are in control of your behavior."
"Yessir," Blaine cried.
"There's always opportunities to get away with things, especially now that we're not living together. If you don't enjoy the bite of a wooden spoon across your backside you'll need to make better choices at the next opportunity," Kurt lectured.
"I-I wiiiilll sirrr," Blaine sniffled.
Kurt landed another SWAT to Blaine's sit spots, causing Blaine's legs to kick for a moment. Examining Blaine's backside, Kurt sighed and then dropped the spoon. Blaine's bottom was red, certainly redder than it generally got from a hand spanking alone. But it did not look bruised, and while he had no reservations about leaving Blaine with a painful reminder for the evening, he did not want him to be feeling it in classes the next day. Over time he'd learned to be able to judge what amount of time and harshness would make the appropriate impact. Blaine was clearly sorry. It was time to be done.
Blaine sniffled into the sofa remorsefully as Kurt rubbed his back for a moment. His tail felt hot, but no amount of squirming would shake that feeling right now, and he knew it. He had a familiar feeling he often got after he was disciplined, of wanting to be so perfect going forward that his behavior wouldn't ever merit this again. He lay, exhausted and chastised, hoping at the least it was the last time he'd earn a visit from that spoon for a long while. Lying just isn't worth it. Why don't I remember that when it matters? Ugh.