As in real life, the parts that come before the spanking — be it punishment or fun — are just as important as the spanking itself.

Some years ago, I started writing a book called “home for littles” (lowercase indicates that the final title isn’t decided upon, at least in my filing system), in which a dom who invites littles or subs to stay with him and get spanked for their behavior issues has to hire another disciplinarian. Her name is Lauren, and she’s also a nurse. This is the build-up to the first spanking she gives:

“You’re going to paddle me, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, but I knew I had to answer. “Yes, Haley. I am.”

It was her turn to nod. “I’m not scared,” she said, and there was strength in that soft voice. “I know I screwed up, and I know I deserve it.”

“You do,” I said. “Should we get it over with?”

“Yeah.” Haley paused. “Um… how many swats?”

“As many as I think you need. Bring me your paddle, Haley.”

“Yes, Lauren.”

Haley pulled away and went to the door. Hanging next to it, on a hook driven into the pale purple wall, was a plain plywood paddle. She took it down and brought it to me so I could examine it.

For one thing, I was surprised at how thick it was — half an inch. It wasn’t large, not like the punishment paddles used in fetish videos; this was maybe a foot long, including the four-inch handle, and about four inches across. No holes, and the edges were sanded so that they were round instead of sharp. One side was painted orange, with bright blue and pink flowers; the other was plain. It was clear which side I should use. I weighed it in my hand, then smacked my left palm a couple of times.

That… that was painful.

“What does Ryan usually do?” I asked Haley.

“I go over his lap,” she told me. “But usually when he spanks me, he uses his hand first, and a few implements.”

“Why?”

“Because I need it. And because I can take it.”

I nodded and stood up. “Well,” I said, “you’re too tall to go over my knee, and since I’m punishing you I’m not going to use my hand.”

“You’re not?”

I shook my head. “I’m planning to have a brush or something with me all the time. I only ever use my hand for play spankings, and unless you’re planning to date me, that’s not going to happen.”

She looked me up and down, appraising me. I blushed, which brought a smile to her lips. “Sorry,” she said. “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you.” My cheeks were quite hot. Soon, though, hers would be too. “Everything off from the waist down, Haley.”

“Yes, Lauren.” She undid her skirt and dropped it, and I realized that she hadn’t been wearing underwear underneath. She was completely unselfconscious as she kicked the skirt to the side and slipped off her sandals. Her legs were long, her thighs soft; the skin had a smooth look marred by old scars from her hips all the way down to her shins. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“The marks. They’re ugly.”

I looked again, this time as a nurse. “No. They’re healing.” Now I looked up into her eyes. “Whatever caused those, you’re healing, and that’s the important thing.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Now the smile was genuine. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re very welcome.” I patted my hand with the paddle again. “Now, I think we should do this. I’m guessing you have other things you’d like to do tonight.”

“Yeah. As long as you don’t put me in the corner.” She frowned. “You’re not gonna, are you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think you need to be in the corner? And be honest, Haley.”

She thought about it for a few seconds. Then, in the teenager-y-est voice she could come up with, said: “Nope.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” I pointed to the corner by the door. “Stand there. Hands on your head, no leaning–“

“Aw, come on!”

“Haley…” I put a note of caution into my voice.

“But Lauren–“

“Last. Chance.”

Haley regarded me, but she knew I wasn’t joking. There was just something in her face. She went to the corner, faced it, laced her fingers on top of her head, and stood there. She did breathe rather loudly; I’m guessing it was to tell me how exasperated she was, but really she just sounded like my dog — the one I had when I was a kid — who used to flop down on the couch, look over at my dad, and sigh before putting her nose on her paws.

I decided not to tell Haley that little story.

Putting someone in the corner is very effective. Unfortunately, I find it boring to wait for the corner time to be over, so I usually don’t do it very often. Though I suppose I could do it and then watch some TV or something, or do the dishes, or pet the dog.