Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/215324.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Rachel_Berry/Quinn_Fabray
  Character:
      Rachel_Berry, Quinn_Fabray
  Additional Tags:
      Spanking, Dirty_Talk, Humor, Dominance, Submission
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-06-25 Words: 1856
****** I Could Like You Anyway ******
by overdosingonyou
Summary
     In which Rachel isn’t very good at role-playing (but they get by
     anyway).
Notes
     Written for a prompt at the glee_kink_meme (at http://glee-kink-
     meme.livejournal.com/8721.html?thread=16353553#t16353553) and
     originally posted there.

Rachel in role-playing mode was slightly terrifying, if only because she
approached the task with the same gusto that she did anything that had to do
with performing. The result was incredibly obnoxious, and, if one managed to
look beyond that, honestly rather funny and Quinn was embarrassed of how hot
the thought it was. 
"You're a very naughty girl," Rachel said, stroking her palms over Quinn's
buttocks, fondling and squeezing lightly. Her voice wasn't quite at her natural
pitch, and it rather reminded Quinn of the voice that kids use when playing
pretend-games with dolls or stuffed animals. "Very, very naughty."
Quinn gritted her teeth and shifted against the desk, putting her weight on her
elbows. Rachel hadn't even lifted her skirt yet, just kept fondling, and it was
already late in the afternoon; Quinn really didn't want her Mom to come home
and catch them in this position. "Get on with it."
"And do you know what naughty girls need?" Rachel said cheerfully, showing no
signs that she had heard. It was possible that she actually hadn't; Quinn knew
that Rachel had a tendency to get very caught up in this. She was also quite
possibly quoting some cheap porn-flick word-for-word. "Do you, young lady?"
Rachel slid her hand further down, rubbing between Quinn's legs through the
fabric of her skirt.
"No," Quinn muttered when it became obvious that Rachel had paused, waiting for
a response. She had stopped rubbing too, which was quickly becoming
infuriating. As the silence stretched on, Quinn added, "Mistress?"
"Ma'am," Rachel corrected hastily. "I think that ma'am sounds much more
professional." She started moving her hand again. She was just a little short
of touching there. Quinn had to bite down and remind herself that she still had
a few shreds of dignity left, and that she wasn't going throw those away by
rubbing against Rachel's teasing fingers. Then suddenly, the fingers withdrew
completely. Quinn pressed her palm against the desktop, frustrated.
"They get a spanking," Rachel continued. "And I do think you deserve one. Don't
you, girl?" She paused again. The emphasis that she put on the question this
time made it painfully obvious that she was expecting an answer. Quinn thought
that she might very well be holding her hand up in Quinn's direction to make it
clear that it was Quinn's line.
"Yes, ma'am," Quinn said, feeling her face heat up for the first time.
Something about Rachel's insistence that Quinn actively participate was somehow
more embarrassing than going through the motions of leaning over the desk and
spreading her legs. She was glad, suddenly, to be facing away from Rachel. That
feeling increased as Rachel finally lifted her skirt, letting her fingers trace
over Quinn’s leg lightly, all the way up to her thigh and causing Quinn to
twitch away nervously, shivering, before bunching up the material and letting
it rest over Quinn's back. 
"Very well," Rachel's said pleasantly. She was enjoying herself immensely,
Quinn knew. "I want you to count out loud for me."
She played with the waistband of Quinn's panties for a moment before pulling
them down to Quinn's thighs, as far as Quinn’s spread legs would allow. Quinn
closed her eyes as her backside was finally exposed completely, trying not to
drown in the sudden, sinking feeling of embarrassment. She knew that Rachel had
to notice how wet her panties were, but she didn't comment.
The first blow was always startling, jarring, even, not because of the pain but
rather because of the forceful surprise that almost made Quinn a little dizzy.
It took a moment before she remembered. "One."
Another slap, this one harder. Quinn grunted and pressed herself automatically
against the desk, both to get away from what was causing her pain and to try to
rub herself against the desk, without much result. "Two."
They got to twenty before Rachel stopped, giving Quinn some time to recover. A
hand slid between Quinn's legs, rubbing firmly at her slit and spreading the
lubrication to her clitoris. She bit back a moan as the slick fingers moved
against her, never seeming to give just enough pressure but enough to
constantly send small pulses of pleasure up through her entire body; somehow
enhanced by the stinging pain she knew that those fingers were able to
administer. 
"You're dripping," Rachel said, momentarily Rachel-like. She sounded,
interested, perhaps? Fascinated, and perhaps a little unsure, a tone of voice
that wasn’t entirely worthy of distaste. Then she cleared her throat. "You
really are a naughty girl, if you're enjoying your punishment so much."
Quinn might have replied to that, but Rachel kept rubbing her clit, firmer now,
just the right amount of firmness to sharpen those pleasurable waves into
something more and it was getting somewhat difficult to think of anything
except more, more, more. When Rachel stopped and pulled away, again, she was
ready to curse, despite having tried all her life to be the kind of girl that
didn't.
"I guess you need a little more punishing", Rachel said authoritatively and
God, never before had Quinn found her bad lines more annoying than now.
The sharp blows that followed, filling the room with their almost obscene
sounds, were more powerful than previously, enough to make Quinn unable to hold
back her gasps. She wiggled her hips helplessly, almost dancing on her toes,
somehow needing to get away from the pain that was quickly approaching
unbearable, each slap robbing her of her ability to think of anything but how
much it hurt, and yet, the incoherence was almost freeing. 
With each hit she thrust her hips against the desk, not quite able to reach the
level of pleasure that Rachel had given her with her fingers but occasionally
managing to reach one of two pleasurable jolts that were almost satisfying in
the midst of the pain and arousal. She just wanted, needed, a little bit more.
The spanking continued until Quinn reached fifty, gasping and not quite
sobbing. Her buttocks burned; she winced when Rachel fondled her carefully,
before reaching down, in between Quinn's legs again; Quinn exhaled unsteadily
and rested against the desk, relieved. Her cheeks were wet, she realized with
an odd sense of wonder.
"Still dripping. More than ever." Rachel made a little disapproving sound with
her tongue, rubbing a little before moving her hand away, letting it fall back
in a tiny slap against Quinn’s labia. It wasn't very forceful, but enough for
Quinn to let out a humiliating whine at the sudden sting.
She pressed against the desk, aware of how red her face and neck must be.
"Please. Rach--"
"Ma'am," Rachel interrupted.
Had she been less desperate, Quinn would probably have rolled her eyes. Now,
she swallowed her urge to say something rude. "Please, ma'am."
Another slap, directly against her clit, startlingly almost pleasurable but
ending up painful. "Please what?"
"Please touch me," she said slowly, as if speaking to a child, thrusting her
hips towards the desk again. She could almost reach her clitoris that way.
Almost.
Finally, Rachel took the hint.
“Very well,” she said, followed, momentarily, by the sounds of concentrated
breathing and the fumbling with clothing. Quinn dared to glance back and saw
that Rachel had hiked her skirt up and was using the fingers of her free hand
to rub herself in small, fast circles. She reached out towards Quinn with her
other hand.
Quinn turned back around, absurdly embarrassed for having seen. She let Rachel
rub her with a steady, warm hand, loosing herself in her pleasure.
When she felt her orgasm approach it was both a relief and vaguely
disappointing; Rachel, unbeknownst to this, continued her swift motions and
then all sensations seemed to intensify and Quinn came, just like that. She
opened her mouth, but nothing came out except a breathy gasp; her fingers
strained against the desktop and suddenly, Rachel's fingers felt much too soft,
too yielding as Quinn pressed against them desperately. 
The moment passed too quickly, leaving her propped up against the desk as she
came back to herself with everything that entailed.
For a short moment Quinn felt almost giddy, breathless and her heart still
beating loud and fast, then her sense of modesty caught up with her and she
became aware of her awkward position. A sense of shame shot through her
sharply.
She hastily brushed her skirt back down to cover herself before she pushed
herself off the desk and tugged her underwear up through the fabric. Her
buttocks were still burning, she realized uncomfortably, and her labia were
still swollen and sensitive. She could hear Rachel’s breath become more and
more labored, and the hand which she used to stroke herself was making a faint,
but almost obscenely wet sound as she was quickly rubbing herself; Quinn was
surprised by the residual almost electric pulses that seemed to shoot through
her spine, starting between her legs, at the sounds, because she was certain
that she should find it embarrassing, if not for her own sake, at least for
Rachel’s. 
She turned in time to see Rachel reach her orgasm and watched with an odd
fascination as Rachel almost seemed to wobble, inhaling sharply as her entire
body strained oddly. She had red spots on her cheeks, Quinn noticed, and her
hair had somehow become untidy, with strands hanging over her eyes.
Then her body relaxed, and she stood there, looking oddly out of place with her
skirt still raised over her hips.
"There," Rachel said a moment later, sounding a bit winded. "I think I am
getting much better at getting into the spirit of all this."
Quinn smiled, but it hurt a little, and she thought she might be showing her
teeth. "Yes," was all she said, however. "Thanks, Rachel."
"No problem." Rachel fixed her skirt, patting at it with her hands as if to
brush away eventual wrinkles. "I am, after all, very open-minded. Understanding
fetishes that other people might find off-putting goes with that."
Quinn felt her smile twitch, but managed to keep it at that. Instead she nodded
and looked away, afraid that she might be tempted to slap Rachel if she met her
eyes. Or blush. She hated this, the moment afterward. It was always awkward,
their boundaries uncertain, and it threw her off-balance. 
She was surprised when Rachel suddenly stepped closer to her, and she very
nearly backed away to try and reclaim her personal space.
“I really liked this, Quinn,” Rachel said, her voice softer, definitely all
Rachel now in a way that Quinn couldn’t hate as much as she once had. It was
the voice she used when she was sincere about something other than her own
ambition. “And not just because I got to hit you.” She smiled in a way that was
probably meant to be disarming, pausing. “You're a really, very beautiful
girl.”
With that, Rachel raised herself on her toes to kiss Quinn's cheek, just a
light peck, but long enough that Quinn felt her warm breath against her cheek,
before Rachel turned on her heel and showed herself out.
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