Written for the prompt: Emma/any of the glee girls (maybe Santana or Tina); spanking (maybe they have an arrangment, I'm a sucker for Domme!Emma)
"Santana," Emma said, looking at the cheerleader looking bored in the chair in front of her. "I have e-mails here from three teachers who have had problems with you this week, and others who have complained recently. What's going on?"
Santana shrugged. "Nothing."
"Nothing," Emma repeated. "All right." She turned to her collection of pamphlets for guidance and selected a handful. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about being pressured into things you may not feel ready to do yet."
Santana snorted. "I do the pressuring, thank you very much."
"Really?" Emma said, raising an eyebrow. "Okay." She made a note to ask Will if he'd noticed anything. "How about problems at home?"
Santana rolled her eyes. "Things are fine at home."
"Mm-hmm. Well, have you maybe been experimenting with, I don't know, drugs?" Emma asked, carefully.
"Coach would kill us if we took anything besides what she gives us." Santana scrutinized her nails.
Emma blinked. "I am sure they are legal. ...Right?"
"Oh, I'm sure," Santana mimicked.
"Santana, there is no need to be rude," Emma said sternly. "Now sit up and look at me."
Santana slowly followed her directions, looking more interested.
"Thank you. Now, Coach Sylvester's influence can only go so far," Emma began, and Santana snorted again. "Stop that," she said sharply. "I mean it. If you continue to antagonize your teachers and deliberately break the rules, you will be in detention or suspended and be forced to miss practice. I am sure that your coach will not be pleased with you then."
"I'm not failing or anything," Santana said. "That's the only way off Cheerios."
"Actually, you nearly are," Emma said. "Your English teacher said you haven't passed a quiz yet this quarter, which has dragged you down quite low."
"What?!" Santana asked, lunging across the desk. "Show me that!"
Emma held her papers back out of reach. "Not until you sit down," she said, pointing.
Santana glared at her and finally did. Emma slid the print out across to her.
"This is crap, Ms. Pillsbury," she said, glowering.
"Language!" Emma said. "Do you disagree with Ms. Jacobs' grades?"
"These quizzes are obviously worth too much if they totally cancel out my homework," Santana said. "I pa-uh," she stumbled over her words as Emma's gaze sharpened. "I work hard on those papers. And things."
"Hmm." Emma took a moment to straighten the papers and pens on her desk and think. "All right. If you are not dealing with peer pressure or drugs, just a bad attitude, then this is what we will do. You will spend your study hall in here with me every day. You will do your homework and you will show me that everything is getting done. If, after three weeks, your grades and attitude have improved, you can have study hall back."
"What if I don't?" Santana asked, crossing her arms.
"Then you will have a Saturday morning detention with me and take your punishment," Emma said, drumming her fingers on her ruler. "You will help me around the school, or whatever else I need, and then on Monday, we will start all over again. Understand?"
Santana huffed, but her heart didn't seem to be in it. "Fine. Whatever. See you tomorrow then." She left Emma's office quickly, skirt swinging.
Their routine established quickly - Santana came in fifth period, worked and Emma signed off on everything. Sometimes they talked, other times they worked in companionable silence.
Three weeks later, Emma stopped Santana before she could pack up. "I've been talking to your teachers, and they all say your grades have gone up," she said. "Nice work."
Santana shrugged. "Thanks."
"But," Emma said, twitching the corner of her papers, "they also say that your attitude has not improved. You had two things to work on, remember?"
"My attitude has been just fine, Ms. Pillsbury," Santana said. "You make me have all these conversations and sh-stuff."
"You're attitude has been fine with me," Emma agreed, "but your teachers need respect, too." She held up her hand to stop Santana's grumbling. "They really do. Now, I am sorry that you have to spend the morning of your 18th birthday here at school with me, but you did not live up to your part of the bargain. 9am, Santana. All right?"
Santana slung her backpack over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Yes."
"Yes...," Emma prompted.
"Yes, ma'am," Santana said. "I'll see you tomorrow at 9."
"Good girl," Emma said. "I'll see you then."
***
Santana arrived fifteen minutes late and it went downhill from there. She bratted and backtalked incessantly until Emma just wanted to slap her.
"Let's take a break," she said, finally. Emma was on the floor with a swiffer - she had learned long ago not to trust the janitors to properly clean - while Santana was supposed to be doing homework.
"Fine," Santana stood from her chair, giving Emma a view up her cheer skirt. "I'm getting a slushy."
"I'll have one, too," Emma called after her.
When Santana hadn't come back in ten minutes, Emma sighed and went after her. She was almost to the cafeteria when Santana came out holding two slushies.
"Here you go, Ms. Pillsbury," she said sweetly, waving the cup at her. As Emma reached for it, though, Santana tipped it over and let go. "Oh, oops," she said. "Sorry about that."
Emma stared in horror at her slushy covered shoes, then up at Santana's unrepentant face. She carefully stepped out of them, avoiding the slush with her socks, and glared at Santana. "That's it, Santana. You've acted like a child all morning. Did you want my attention? Well, look here, sweetie, you've got it."
She grabbed Santana's arm and pulled her down the hall to her office. Emma sat in one of the student chairs and pulled Santana over her lap. She smacked her ass, hard, and Santana gasped.
"Is this what you want?" Emma continued. "Big, 18 year old girl getting spanked like a little girl?" She kept up the flurry of smacks, and Santana writhed on her lap. Emma held her tight and smacked again. She paused, breathing hard and realized that Santana wasn't sounding punished. She was sounding turned on.
She reached a hand under Santana's skirt and felt dampness soaking her spankies and Emma's jeans.
"You're not supposed to like this," Emma scolded. "Up!"
Santana stood, shaking, and Emma yanked down her spankies and panties. "You've behaved badly, Santana," she said. "I'm not going to tolerate it anymore."
Emma pulled her back down, keeping the skirt lifted, and reached for her ruler. She landed it with a splat on Santana's bare ass and the girl jumped. Emma admired the stripe of rose on the pink skin. She spanked her again, and Santana moaned.
Emma used slow smacks of the ruler alternated with rough squeezes to build the fire in Santana's ass. It didn't take long before Santana started thrusting herself against Emma's thigh. "Oh, Dios mio," Santana groaned, and Emma landed one last hard smack. Santana bucked against her with a loud gasp and collapsed limply down.
"You all right, sweetie?" Emma asked, stroking her lower back.
"I am awesome," Santana said, her words muffled. She slowly rolled herself off Emma's lap and knelt between her knees. She threw her arms around Emma's waist and Emma squeezed her tight.
"Happy birthday, Santana," Emma whispered in her ear, helping her stand. "Did you like your present?"
"It was the best, Emma," Santana said, rubbing her ass. "God, these last three weeks have been torture, waiting for it. And you."
"Good," Emma said. "But let me tell you - if you jeopardize your grades again to spend time with me, this morning will look like a walk in the park."
"I hadn't meant for that to happen, " Santana admitted as she pulled her underwear and spankies back up with a wince. "I don't want to get kicked off Cheerios. Guess I'm just gonna have to give up study hall for good. Just to be safe."
"I'm fine with that," Emma said, leaning in for a kiss.
"Can we go now?" Santana asked, running her hands up and down Emma's hips. "I want to celebrate being legal with you. You promised me a real date. And sex. I've been waiting so long."
"Go?" Emma asked, eyebrow raised. "You have two hours of detention left. You slushied my shoes - you aren't getting any more rewards until you have paid the price."
"More spanking?" Santana asked hopefully.
"More homework," Emma said. She swatted Santana's ass and the girl hissed. "Sit, write, and if you do a good job, we'll go home and celebrate."
"Yes, ma'am," Santana said.
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