
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/522709.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Rachel_Berry/Will_Schuester
  Character:
      Rachel_Berry, Will_Schuester
  Additional Tags:
      Teacher-Student_Relationship, Spanking
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-09-27 Words: 4588
****** A Hard Lesson ******
by wistfulwatcher
Summary
     It takes a good teacher to make a hard lesson stick.
Notes
     Written for the glee kink meme prompt:
     "Rachel was very wrong to send Sunshine to that inactive crackhouse,
     and she feels awful about it. She is desperate to regain Mr. Shue's
     approval and remain the teachers pet. So she stops by his office to
     ask him to punish her, but winds up interrupting him jerking off.
     Shue takes his anger out by spanking her bare ass and alternately
     fingering her while she's lying across his lap, then has her kneel
     down between his legs and suck him off. He makes her hum while
     blowing him.
     Rachel is a good student."
Rachel walked quickly down the empty hallway. It was a little after six
o’clock, and school had been out for a good three hours. Detention had let out
two hours ago, and yet Rachel remained. She’d been in the auditorium for the
last hour, after wandering around outside, trying to straighten out her
thoughts.
Logically, Rachel knew it was wrong to have sent Sunshine to the crackhouse.
Really, she did. She had just been protecting their family. Why didn’t Finn
understand that? Rachel huffed in determination as she passed the empty
teacher’s office. Well, she was protecting herself a little, too, but she was
the leader of their family, wasn’t she? If she wasn’t in charge, glee would
crumble under the pressures of outside life. She just knew it.
Once Rachel had sorted some thoughts out by the football field, she had gone to
the auditorium for some soothing vocal practice. Looking at the events of the
day honestly, she realized she had been feeling a little guilty, and singing
always made life better.
It turns out that time alone had done the trick, and Rachel had figured out
what needed to happen; if no one was going to readily forgive her, she would
have to offset her bad behavior with some outside punishment.
Of course, her first thought was Mr. Schue. Really, he was always more than
ready to reprimand her for the slightest transgression, and the lack of
punishment had been a shock to her earlier. After singing a few more songs,
Rachel made her decision and headed to Mr. Schue’s office. Ever since his
divorce he had been in there until pretty late at night. Since Rachel practiced
on the stage pretty often, she always made a detour to his office before
heading home late at night. She owed it to him to let him know the stage was
open, really. Or, you know, she wanted to observe him for a moment before he
knew.
Yes, she was over the silly crush of the previous year. It had been
embarrassing, but he had been a gentleman and things had gone back to normal.
However, it really hadn’t been easy to stop noticing his curly hair, or his
pained eyes, or his soft smile. And she’d tried, really she had, but it hadn’t
been working for her. In fact, the more she tried to think about Finn’s short
hair, and Finn’s blank eyes, or Finn’sdopey grin, she found herself drawn back
to the hunky features of her favorite teacher.
Shaking it off, Rachel finished the trek down the hallway, coming to stop in
front of his door. The lights were off, but there was a faint glow coming from
the right corner of the room. Figuring his laptop had been left on as he ran an
errand, Rachel opened the door, and flicked on the lights to wait for him to
return.
But an empty office had not met Rachel as the lights flipped on. “Rachel!
Jesus, don’t you knock?!” The brunette could only stand there, mouth open,
palms starting to sweat at her sides, as Mr. Schue sat on the edge of his metal
desk, pants around his knees, tie loose around his neck, and his cock in hand.
He’d moved his hand away from himself as quickly as he had been able to, before
jumping up and pulling his waistband back up.
She turned around quickly, feeling her cheeks start to warm in both
embarrassment and arousal. Never, in a million years, had she ever expected to
find Mr. Schue in that position. “I’m so sorry! I just wanted to ask…” She
trailed off, her voice wavering in a highly non-Rachel Berry way.
“Ask what?” He practically barked it, and despite herself, Rachel felt a shiver
make its way up her spine, giving her a momentary light-headedness.
“Nothing.” She fiddled with her fingers before adding, “I just, need you to
yell at me, Mr. Schue, punish me. For the crackhouse thing.” She could swear
she heard a groan somewhere during that sentence, but she couldn’t be certain.
“Rachel, I think,” he shifted by his desk, and the sudden movement caused
Rachel to jump slightly, her hands twitching as her grip on her purse handle
slackened. The clang of the buckle on the linoleum brought her back, and she
reached down to get it. A definite groan, and as Rachel processed the feel of
air on her bare thighs, she felt a hot hand grip her left hip.
“God, Rachel. Why can’t you let anything go?” The question must have been
rhetorical, because Rachel felt herself being pulled back until her thigh was
pressed against the cold metal of Mr. Schue’s desk. He turned her slowly, until
they were face to face, her looking straight at his chest. She tried not to
glance down, told herself she shouldn’t be here, didn’t deserve to look, had
barged in on him.
Despite her protests, she felt her gaze shift downward, her eyelashes brushing
the heated skin of her upper cheeks. The sight of Mr. Schue, in front of her,
his pants unbuttoned, his fly open, and a big bulge beneath thin material
caused a quick intake of breath as she gasped.
She felt herself swallowing deeply, overrun by the intense heat rushing through
her veins before settling low in her belly. Her hand moved away from her side
and gently cupped him through the material. “Fuck! Rachel…” he trailed off as
his hand covered hers, pressing quickly before moving her hand away. His eyes
were heavy and so dark. The brief jolt of panic did nothing but fuel the fire
in her veins, and she bit her lip.
He growled unexpectedly as her hand pressed harder before he roughly pushed her
back. “God damn it, Rachel! You can’t just barge in here like it’s your right.
You can’t just take what you want, without considering things, others! You want
me to yell at you? Do you feel bad, now?” Rachel managed to shrink back a
little, suddenly deciding she did not need him to yell at her.
Her brief nod was the only acknowledgement she made of his comments, but it
appeared to be enough. “Bend over.” Rachel’s eyebrows knit together.
“Excuse me?”
“Bend over.” Mr. Schue moved an inch closer to her. “You want to feel better?
You want to be punished? Well, bad girls get spanked, Rachel.” She paused for a
moment before bending at the waist awkwardly. Her skirt hiked up to almost
indecent, and then he set his hand on her lower back. He gently but firmly
pushed her down to the table, until she was bent forward so much her panties
were a little exposed.
Mr. Schue’s fingertips trailed up the back of her right leg slowly, as she
heard him exhale. His palm brushed her ass as his hand moved farther up,
effectively flipping her skirt onto the small of her back. Rachel’s legs shook
slightly as Mr. Schue took his time, lightly caressing exposed parts of her
body. Leaning down until his chest pushed against her back, he whispered in her
ear, “You still think you need to relieve that guilt? Because I want to make
this lesson stick.”
His comment was a challenge, and Rachel never backed down from a challenge.
“Yes, Mr. Schue. I’m really sorry.” Her voice quaked a little, but she didn’t
think it was due to nerves. She knew he would never really hurt her. She felt
him smile against her ear, his lips slowly brushing against the shell as his
hand reached back down to her lower back.
Reaching between their bodies, he hooked his fingers against her lower back and
pulled her purple lace panties down to her upper thighs. Mr. Schue pulled back,
and she felt his hand caress her ass. For a moment there was no contact as she
waited for the impact she was expecting.
Just as she assumed he had realized what a mistake this all was, a red hot
sting flared across her backside. A garbled moan left her throat, and she
looked back over her shoulder. The pain was intense, but there was something
riding the edge of the pain, something good. “Do you know why I’m doing this,
Rachel?”
She bit her lip and nodded, before facing forward again, the image of Mr. Schue
behind her, pants open, cock hard and out in front of him burned in her mind.
“Because I treated a potential teammate without respect.”
A pause, and then a second smack against her already heated right butt cheek.
The shock was still present with the second hit, and Rachel’s hips shifted
forward without her control. The burning was still intense, but that pleasant
edge that had come with the first one was even stronger, and Rachel barely
contained an accompanying moan.
“That’s a little bit of it, Rachel. But you also don’t treat me with respect. “
A third hit, and this time Rachel’s moan slipped out, to which Mr. Schue
replied with a growl and both of his hands gripping her hips tightly. “You
burst into my office without knocking, you act as though I created glee club
solely for you, and even now you think only of what I’m doing to you.”
“No! I really—“ A fourth smack, this time to her left cheek. The burning was
strong on the virgin flesh, but the edge of pleasure was still increasing.
Rachel clenched her muscles, trying to relieve some of the pressure to no
avail.
“I think it’s only appropriate you call me ‘sir,’ Rachel.” A fifth strike,
again to her left side. This time her moan was loud, and her hips pushed
backwards in an attempt to make contact with his hard body. He didn’t meet her,
and she whined in protest. There was no movement, no spanking for a full
minute.
Rachel ‘s arms quivered under the weight of her body, and she stuttered, “P-
please, Mr. Schue!”
Rachel heard rolling on the tile floor, and then, “Please?”
Rachel remembered his instructions, and leaned on her forearms. “Please, sir…I
need—“
A sixth smack, across both cheeks. The contact was unexpected, and she was so
lost in the feel of his skin on hers and the delicious tingling hum of her body
that the pain felt better than ever. She could feel how wet she was, and knew
Mr. Schue could see it, could probably smell how turned on she was.
“You need? I don’t think you were listening to me, Rachel. Turn around.” Rachel
leaned off of her arms, tingling from lack of circulation, not pleasure. Her
face was bright red, she knew, and it was awkward as she leaned up and her
skirt fell against her irritated skin. The wetness she could feel before is
starting to slide down the inside of her thigh, and Rachel wanted to pull up
her panties, but she also wanted to pull them completely off and slide down
onto Mr. Schue’s hard cock.
He pushed his desk chair over to where she was, and he stood in front of it,
his left hand stroking himself as his right hand reached up to her cheek. She
watched as he rubbed his thumb over the head, collecting moisture before moving
back down the shaft.
The hand on her cheek was soft and slightly shaking, her only indication that
this was as intense for him as it was for her. His thumb brushed against her
lips, and she opened her mouth, licking his fingerprint. “Fuck, Rachel…” His
fingers tightened on the back of her neck, and he pulled her closer to him. She
licked her lips, waiting for his kiss, but instead saw him walk backward before
collapsing in the desk chair, his hand still gripping his erection tightly.
Rachel felt unsure suddenly, now that she had to look at him. But the desire in
his eyes reassured her, and so she focused on the scratchy skirt against her
bare ass. “Take off your shirt, Rachel.” She did as she was told, even called
him “sir” when she agreed. He nodded and loosened his tie more as she did. His
hand moved quickly on his shaft while he watched her, before he pushed his
pants quickly down his legs.
“Come here.” She did as she was told, until she was standing right in front of
him, her owl sweater discarded on his desk behind them. He reached up, past the
lace of her panties to her core, where he slid two fingers against her outer
lips. Her reaction was unexpected as she leaned her hand back against the desk,
breath drawn in. “Christ, you’re wet.” His hand slid back to the heated flesh
under her skirt. “You fucking enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
She nodded, and his fingers returned to her opening, finally sliding into her.
“Say it, Rachel.”
“Yes! I enjoyed it, sir.” Her eyes closed, and he let his thumb join, brushing
against her clit.
“Have you learned your lesson yet?” She thought about saying yes, about
finishing this, but suddenly that seemed like a bad idea, and those ideas
sounded the best.
“No. No, sir, I don’t think I have.” The tender flesh of her backside wasn’t
quite as thrumming as she wanted it to be. He pulled her hip closer to him, and
he leaned down, his face level with her pussy. Inhaling deeply as he flipped
her skirt up and tucked it into the waistband, he looked up at her, before
dipping forward and running his tongue along her slit.
“Oh, oh God, Mr. Schue!” Her hands clutched at his head wildly, until he
abruptly pulled back.
“Come here, Rach.” He unsnapped her bra quickly, sliding it off and throwing it
toward the door she had fortunately thought to close when she came in. Mr.
Schue gestured to his lap, and Rachel leaned over it without any more
prompting.
Settled in, she could feel the heat of his cock against her side, and it sent a
sick thrill through her. His hand rested on her calves for a bit before he
pulled back and hovered. Rachel waited for the smack that was about to come,
and then couldn’t stop herself from practically screaming in release when it
did.
She thanked God that she’d seen no one else in the hallways as she pressed her
lips hard together to keep from making any more loud noises. Waiting for the
next slap of his skin on hers, she dug her fingers around the arm of the chair
and focused on the heavy breathing from Mr. Schue.
“It’s always about you, Rachel. Do you even realize that?” Slap. “Your
solos,” slap, “your future,” slap, “your punishment,” slap.
She was practically grunting now, as Mr. Schue’s hand came down on already
welting flesh. The sting that had been present in the beginning was now lost in
a sea of coiled tension, and Rachel couldn’t keep her hips from rolling, trying
to grind down on Mr. Schue’s thigh to relieve the pressure.
Her movements were causing her side to rub against his cock in a steady rhythm,
and soon his hips were shifting off of the chair in search of the same breaking
wave she was. “Even now,” he was gritting out the words, she could tell, he
could barely focus anymore. “You’re not listening, just trying to help
yourself.”
She knew what he was saying, she did, but the pressure was mounting, she was
almost there, if only, “Please, Mr. Schue!” Her fingers had moved from the arm
of the chair to Mr. Schue’s thigh, by her bare breasts. She dug them in,
adding, “I mean sir, please, I feel…”
Suddenly his hands were on her hips, stopping her movements and she wanted to
scream again as pushed her off of his lap none too gently, and onto the floor
in front of him. She knew her eyes were glassy as she looked up at him, her
hands coming to rest on his knees automatically as she questioned why he’d
stopped.
“You need to learn to think about others, Rachel. You need to realize that
actions have consequences.” He slid to the edge of the chair and she watched as
his hand grabbed his cock, stroking himself like he had earlier, but faster,
this time.
He wasn’t telling her what to do, but she had a pretty good idea of what he
meant, so she ventured, “Like that,” she blushed, looking down a bit,
“rubbing myself caused your, um…” She looked at his cock with hooded eyes, not
wanting to verbalize her actions further.
“Yes, Rachel. Like that you grinding your pussy on my thigh made me so fucking
hard.” He was watching her more intensely than ever before, and the sudden
thought that this was how to get his attention was both funny and unwelcome.
Suppressing her laughter, she sat up straighter, bringing her closer between
his legs. “Do you want me to…sir?” He sucked his breath in suddenly and nodded,
his right hand reaching for her hair as his left gripped his thigh tightly.
Rachel leaned forward, keeping eye contact awkwardly to see if she was about to
make a mistake. When she reached the head of his cock, she shifted her
attention to right in front of her, before taking a deep breath and sliding him
slowly past her lips.
His groan was drawn out as she licked at the underside, her hand coming up to
grip what wasn’t in her mouth. She was inexperienced but not naïve, however she
still wasn’t quite sure what to do. “Fu—Rachel, ‘s good, now move your head.”
She breathed through her nose, sliding more of him in her mouth as per his
instruction, until she felt him nearing the back of her throat. Rachel could
feel the saliva starting to pool in her mouth, so she tilted her head back
slightly and swallowed, trying not to embarrass herself.
Mr. Schue’s hips shot off of the chair, pushing more of his cock into her
throat as he wound his fingers in her hair. “Jesus Rachel! Where did you, God—“
anything else was cut off when she repeated her motions, this time her tongue
caressing the underside as she pushed her nose to nestle at the base of his
cock.
His eyes slowly opened, having shut after she’d swallowed him the first time,
and she realized that they were darker than ever, even after the performance of
“Push It,” that had made him so upset with her. Rachel watched his eyes to make
sure this was right, that this was what he wanted from her.
His response was his fingers in her hair, tugging ever so slightly toward him,
helping guide her movements. Mr. Schue’s other hand slid from his thigh to her
neck, and he caressed the skin there, producing a gentle moan from Rachel.
Again his eyes shut quickly, and she stilled her movements before pulling back
and letting him slide from her mouth.
Trying to wipe discreetly at her mouth, she asked, “Mr. Schue? Did I do
something wrong?”
“Sing something.”
Rachel furrowed her brows. “What?”
“Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word. Do you remember you wanted to sing that to
me?”
“Yes,” she paused before, “sir.”
His hand went back to her neck, guiding her toward his lap again. “Sing it, hum
it, Rachel.”
She nodded, smiling slightly at the strange request. Taking him into her mouth
again, Rachel started to hum the song he wouldn’t let her sing a year ago.
Rachel could feel herself getting wetter as Mr. Schue’s hips started moving off
of the chair as she hummed. He was muttering, now, incoherently about tone and
vibration, so Rachel sucked lightly as she bobbed her head in the rhythm Mr.
Schue had taught her.
“I’m close, Rach. Your mouth feels so fucking good,” she smiled around him,
still humming and looking up at him. His eyes had fluttered closed again, but
he opened them then, looking her in the eyes before tugging her hair back,
pulling her off of him. “I’m gonna…honey stop,” and when she was leaning back
on her heels, she watched his hand go back to his shaft, pumping quickly until
thick streams of milky fluid coated his hand.
She watched in awe at the spent man before her, never having seen a man coming
or her Spanish teacher lose control like this. Mr. Schue’s head dropped to the
back of the chair, and Rachel could tell his eyes were closed. Suddenly shy and
embarrassed, she stood up to grab her bra and shirt, figuring it was time for
her to leave.
As she bent over to retrieve her bra from in front of the door, she felt the
air hit her wet flesh the same time she heard his voice, like smoothed over
gravel, “Where do you think you’re going?”
She looked back at him, still in the chair, but now watching her with heavy
eyes. She stood up and looked down at her bra before shifting uncomfortably. “I
thought you were done with my punishment.” The words sounded harsh to her own
ears, and she didn’t want Mr. Schue to misunderstand, think that she hadn’t
wanted that, so she looked at him through her lashes, with a small smile on her
lips.
He didn’t get up, but he jerked his head in his direction, and said, “Come
‘ere.” When she was in front of him, he rolled the chair forward, trapping her
between his body and the desk. He pushed her back to the cool metal of the
desk, and she felt goosebumps break on her flesh.
Mr. Schue’s hands were firm but gentle as he gripped her hips, standing up so
that he towered over her. His height advantage brought another streak of
pleasure up her spine, and she realized, suddenly, how aroused she still was.
“I’m done with your punishment. I think you learned your lesson.” He brought
his hand to her cheek, brushing his fingers through her hair and softly resting
his hand on her cheek. “Now that you have, I think some positive reinforcement
might be a good idea.”
Now Rachel sucked in a breath at the idea, not quite sure what he meant, but
knowing she was close, just needed something to bring her over the edge. “You
did say you wanted the lesson to stick, sir.” He stopped stroking her hair to
pull her hips to his, so she could feel him against her aching core.
He ground their hips together for a moment before sitting back down in his
chair. Rachel tilted her head, confused, until he slid closer to the desk,
eying her still exposed pussy. “Oh,” she gasped, as she realized what he
intended to do.
With a glint in his eye, Mr. Schue ran his hands up Rachel’s legs, past the
knee-his to the smooth skin of her thighs. Looking her in the eye, he applied
pressure to her inner thighs, and grunted, “Spread your legs.”
She did as she was told, adding a playful, “Yes, sir,” and smiling when it
caused a spark behind his eyes.
“I think you understand now that actions have consequences, and that you need
to rectify your mistakes.” It was a statement, but he was waiting for an
answer, so Rachel nodded her head.
“Rachel…”
“Yes, sir. I need to take responsibility for my actions, and also think of
others.” She’d never admit it, but his condescension was making her hotter,
wetter, as she thought about what his mouth was going to be doing to her soon.
“Good girl, Rachel. And good girls get rewards.” His voice was calm, but she
could see that he was growing harder from his words, too. “Good girls get to
cum.” Her hips shifted then, and Mr. Schue rolled his chair closer, so there
was almost no space between his shoulders and her legs. “Hook your knees over
my shoulders.”
She did as she was told, a brief moment of worry crossing her features. “I’m
glad you learned your lesson, Rach, because I knew one taste of you would not
be enough. It’d kill me if I couldn’t bury my face in you.”
His words were doing the trick, soothing her, and she shifted her hips up as he
leaned forward, an inch above her pussy. Pausing a minute, Mr. Schue looked up
at her, and she swallowed hard before, “Please, sir, your mouth,” and he was on
her, his lips were brushing her clit, sliding against her wetness.
Rachel could feel her thighs falling open even wider, as Mr. Schue ate her out,
his arms hooking around the bottoms of her thighs, pressing on her lower back
to bring her closer to him. She realized his desperation to taste her might be
able to push her over the edge on its own, as his teeth scraped her clit.
She was moaning and babbling words like, “please,” “fuck,” “feels,” “God,”
“sir,” and “Mr. Schue,” and she wasn’t sure which ones were working but every
once in a while he would growl into her slick flesh and double his efforts.
She was almost there, her hands tugging at his head to warn him she was close.
He leaned back, not looking at her, but enough so she could hear, “I know baby,
go ahead, cum for me,” and when he put his lips back on her clit and nipped,
she felt herself fall apart beneath him.
Rachel rode her orgasm as Mr. Schue licked at her inner thighs, and felt him
nip her bikini line lightly, as he murmured, “Good girl.”
She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face, as she leaned back on her
arms and watched him kiss his way up her body. He pulled her panties up and
flipped her skirt down, then kissed a line from her stomach to her neck,
stopping to pay attention to both breasts.
He nuzzled into her collarbone as her hands reached for his shoulders and upper
back. She realized, with disappointment, that his shirt never came off, and was
shocked to find herself worrying that this wouldn’t happen again.
Mr. Schue murmured, “Rachel,” as his lips pressed wet kisses to her jaw. He
leaned back a moment, to watch her as he leaned in more, about to kiss her
mouth. She smiled and her eyes fluttered closed. She felt the soft press of his
lips against hers, and parted her lips slightly, inviting him in.
As his tongue glided against hers, each sharing the taste of the other, she
couldn’t help but realize they did it backwards—kissing last. His lips opened
more to hers as he made soft noises into her mouth, and she thought that maybe
that’s how they operated—needing to take giant steps to get to those smaller
ones.
His fingers were in her hair again and she decided however they worked didn’t
matter, as long as they kept doing this. Pulling back, she felt the loss she
saw on his face, but hurried on to ask, “We can do this again, right?”
She could tell his thoughts were already warring, that she probably broke the
spell, but she needed to know this could happen again—they could happen again.
His eyes softened as he brushed her bangs from her face, and he sighed, “I’m
sure this wasn’t your last diva moment.”
And it wasn’t.
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