Resigned, and attempting bravery, Blaine stood up.
"I- understand sir." he said quietly. Then he added, "I don't- like it, but I understand it."
"Fair enough." Mr. Anderson gave a nod and gestured towards Blaine's pants. Usually he would have pulled them down himself, so it was almost a reprieve. One little thing to make an excruciatingly juvenile punishment a little less childish. By a hair. Blaine shakily unbuttoned his gray pants and pushed them down to the edge of his navy boxer briefs, looking towards the bookshelf as he felt gravity pulling them down further past his knees. Swallowing, he pushed himself to crawl over his father's lap quickly. The quicker this starts the quicker it's over.
Mr. Anderson unbuttoned the sleeve on his shirt and rolled it up. He then reached down to Blaine's waist and pulled his underwear up and over his bottom, pushing it down to his knees, which tensed nervously. Man up. The quicker this starts the quicker it's over. Blaine scolded himself to focus, not wanting to betray his anxiety right now. It's just a spanking. Been here before, probably will be again.
Mr. Anderson put one hand on Blaine's back and one on his bared bottom, steeling himself for the task ahead. "I hope you remember this next time you're tempted to sneak behind our backs Blaine."
"Yes sir." God just get on with it. In some ways the moments before a punishment, being hyper-aware of being exposed, were worse than the pain of the punishment itself.
"You should know I thought about whether your mother's wooden spoon was in order tonight." Blaine inhaled slowly, his back tensing at that particular thought. Mom had often threatened him and Greg with the spoon when they were younger, but it was rarely used. He'd felt it maybe five or six times, and not in quite a long while. The only thing he ever wanted to avoid more than the wooden spoon was his dad's belt. "Now I think you understand what you did was wrong, Blaine. But if I ever catch you skipping school again, or driving your mother's car when you have no business driving it, we're going to be opening that drawer and seeing if you need something stronger to get your attention. Am I clear?"
"...Y-es sir." Blaine closed his eyes, every ounce of his energy trying to prevent himself from fidgeting.
SMACK. SMACK. After all the lecturing and waiting Blaine was almost relieved to feel the first sharp swats to his bottom. He gritted his teeth as his father spanked, trying not to make any noise. He winced as his father's hand slapped at his sit spots and barely held in a whimper as he felt the rhythm pick up in speed. His stockinged feet twisted against each other as the spanking continued, relentlessly. His dad paused for a second or two at one point and Blaine groaned out a pained exhale, before an "Oww..." escaped his lips as it began anew. This sucks. This sucks. His breath stuttered at the pain, and after a certain while he couldn't help himself. He lifted his torso, twisting like he wanted to reach back and cover his bottom, but then thought better of it, miserably falling back to looking at the floor. "Dadddd-" he whined quietly.
"Not fun then, Blaine? SMACK-SMACK-SMACK." Blaine's bottom squirmed over his father's lap.
"No I'm sorrryyyy. Come onnn..."
"SMACK Good. Glad I SMACK have your SMACK full SMACK attention SMACK-SMACK young SMACK man. SMACK." Blaine was barely holding on to his ability not to kick now. Each slap seemed to hurt more than the next, and he was never sure where the next one was going to hit. Mr. Anderson was spanking, hard, all over his bare bottom and the tops of his thighs. It stung everywhere and Blaine was trying not to get teary about it. Man up, come on, man up. But his resolve was getting weaker as exhaustion and pain took over his headspace. He whimpered out a series of "I'm-sorry-dad-I'm-sorry-dad,-dad-I'm-sorry," as all pretenses of being brave and strong slipped out of his control. Blaine thought miserably of what his friends at school would think if they saw him like this. He was pretty sure he didn't know anyone else who got spanked. Of course it wasn't something a person was going to advertise.
"It hurtssss sirr..." Blaine had regressed into a whining state. If he was a little kid he'd kick and scream, but he wasn't little and he needed to hold it together. Whining was childish, he guessed, but it allowed him to express right now, and his dignity had been fading already anyhow.
"I hope it does young man. SMACK SLAP SLAP SMACK. I hope SLAP you remember SLAP this SLAP for a long SLAP time SLAP SLAP." Mr. Anderson stopped there, resting his hand on Blaine's back. Somehow the stopping made Blaine's tears sneak out, the relief at it being done pressing throughout his insides. He laid there for a few moments, unhappily resigned to his tears, scrunching his face trying to think of anything but the searing feeling all across his bottom right now.