20:14 , The Twain's Hidden Backroom

Santana Fucking Lopez.

"Fuck Santana, this isn't funny anymore. If a stripper just so much as fucking touches me, you better hide your wedding gown because I'm going to rip it to shreds."

She should have seen this coming. Years of knowing that conniving brunette should have prepared her for this, she thought to herself.

A light clicking sound came from the corner of the room where the door to the back was located.

A light melodic sound came from somewhere above allowing music to filter in the room.

And then the most angelic sound came from someone who just whispered into her ear.

"Hello, Quinn."

Nothing prepared her for this.

15: 47, Santana and Brittany's Apartment

Santana Fucking Lopez.

"Fuck Santana, I'm not doing this," her utter look of distaste says it all. She did not agree to this.

"C'mon, Q. I won the bet fair and square," the rectangular box tucked beneath her arm screaming attention with its purple and black wrapping.

Quinn's eyes was darting from one object to another, trying to locate some sort of escape route, trying to find some way to explain why she got into this mess in the first place. She should refuse. She should just walk out now and catch the first train that'll take her back to New Haven. But she couldn't. Damn it.

She grabbed the box from Santana's arm with a resounding sigh.

"Fine, but I'm not wearing it until we get there. I have no idea what kind of sick fantasy you're trying to play her but I'm not walking around 56th Street with these on."

"All I ask is that you were it when we get to The Twain for the party tonight."

"I hate you," was the only thing she managed to say after that.

16:22, Santana and Brittany's Apartment

"You can start thanking me now," Santana quipped while awaiting for the praises and applause that were surely to come from person at the end of the line.

"Geez. Forget much? I'm giving you a chance to talk to her here. An actual one on one conversation. Wouldn't you want that?" Granted she's added a few tricks to this so called one on one conversation but they didn't need to know that.

"You worry too much, Berry. I'll tell Q that I'll be needing something from the back room, then that's your signal. She owes me way too fucking much for her to refuse," then for some reason, Santana's more excited about this than the actual bridal shower party.

"Just be there at 8 and follow my instructions before you go in. Q's a bit of a flight risk so approach with caution. Remember: this is your one chance to unpress her lemon. Don't make me regret trusting you."

At this point, Santana's not even sure anymore why she's doing this. It was equal parts wanting revenge on Quinn for being such an absentee friend for the past few years, and wanting to fill up her narcissistic need to help out Rachel for future favor-asking purposes.

"You look like the Grinch just after he stole Christmas. Who were you talking to?" a voice came from behind her.

"Brittany. She's at the florist, taking care of some errands. Ready for tonight, Q?" she replied with the most shit eating grin she could muster.

18:56, The Twain's VIP Powder Room

"Fuck Santana, do you actually use these kinds of stuff?" Quinn could no longer hide the annoyance in her voice. Yes, she agreed to this but it wasn't like she knew that it was going to be this, pun very much intended, hard. Figuratively and literally.

"Don't be a prude, Q. Just put it on."

"Well that's proving kind of difficult at the moment. There seems to be some sort of insert here…"

"That's what the lube is for!"

"Seriously?!"

"Seriously."

Quinn rummaged through the box to search for this so-called item that's supposed to aid her in this fucked up situation that she got herself into. Some plastic container with the words, Slip 'n' Slide pretty much gave her the idea that she found what she was looking for. She looked at it again and the strap-on she had on her other hand. The silicon was plain white with red ridges surrounding the shaft and the insert. Santana did point out earlier that she made sure it that Quinn will be feeling the school spirit once she wore it. The belt, thankfully, was made of a soft black fabric. For some reason, that was the first thing she noticed when she opened the box. She agreed to this but damn it, she will not agree to some possible chafing the day after.

She poured some of the lubricant on her hands and applied some to the insert. She then tentatively poured some more on the ends of her fingertips. Carefully raising her fingertips, she observed the transparent liquid while it glowed in the fluorescent lighted bathroom. Wow she is a prude if she's this fascinated with the thought of actually using lubricant for the first time. She lowered her arm and gently reached for her entrance. She released a breath she did not know she was holding once her fingertips reached the lips of her vagina. She started to spread some of the liquid then decided it would be much more effective if she had it inside. Gently teasing her entrance with her very wet index finger, she carefully inserted her digit inside.

"HEY FABRAY WHAT'S THE HOLD UP!"

Santana's relentless door banging almost made Quinn drop the strap-on. She completely forgotten where she was or why she was here in the first place.

She positioned the insert just below her wet entrance and gently slipped it on. A gasp escaped from her lips before she could even try to repress it and tingling sensation just crept up her spine.

This was going to be an interesting night, she thought.

20:03, The Twain's VIP Room

*Click

"I still can't believe Quinn agreed to this. Girl must have left her backbone in Yale," said Mercedes.

"She's my maid of horror so she has to fucking do whatever I tell her to do," retorted Santana with her trademark evil grin. "And she hasn't shown her face for the past 3 years while I had to live with Berry for the first 6 months."

"I'm still surprised why you made her your maid of honor in the first place. You've hardly spoken to her since graduation."

"Isn't it obvious? I made her my maid of honor so I could do this."

Mercedes then proceeded to look at her with equal parts awe and fear.

20:16, The Twain's Hidden Backroom

"Hello, Quinn."

"Rachel?"

"I'm so sorry about this. I wish I could relieve you from your restraints but Santana gave me specific instructions or else the deal was off."

"What deal?"

"It's kind of embarrassing and all together awkward under the present situation, so as much as I want to expedite the set of instructions Santana gave out, I must…"

"Rachel. Rachel. Let's just get this over with. Knowing Santana, she's probable coerced you into performing some sort of lap dance for me."

"Ummm. Actually, it's not as simple as that," Rachel groaned as she began to unbutton the brown trench coat Santana made her wear.

"Rachel, what are you doing?"

"Quinn, please don't freak out. The last thing I want to do is scare you before I even tell you what this is all about," she assured her as she took off her trench coat and set it on the corner.

Quinn could only stare. She was definitely not prepared for this. Rachel was wearing an apple green and black baby doll ensemble, the matching lacy bra and panties with the see through hanging material is leaving nothing for the imagination. Quinn had to resist the urge to gulp out loud at the sight. Just below Rachel's supple breasts, Quinn could easily make out how the thin fabric parted to show Rachel's toned abs. Just below her very tiny panties, which she suspected could actually be a thong, Rachel wore white knee high socks reminiscent of those she used to wear back in McKinley.

"Quinn, are you okay? Don't worry. I am fully prepared to beat Santana on this sick game she is forcing us to play. I'm not forcing you to witness anything you don't wish to be a part in. We could just stay here until the appropriate time has passed for her to deem that we have carried out her instructions."

Quinn should say something. She should. Rachel was talking and all she could do is stare at this magnificent girl in front of her. She shifted in her seat as she tried to get a hold of herself, and in the process; the sweater she was using to cover up the bulge in between her legs fell to the floor.

"I can explain," Quinn hurriedly whispered. "Santana made me wear it. And for the life of me, I can't fucking tuck it in. Please don't freak out."

She looked down at her lap and then back at Rachel. "You could still dance for me though. We wouldn't want to turn this night into a complete waste."

Rachel looked at her like she was trying to figure out if she was joking or not. After a few seconds, she shook her head and had a determined look on her face.

Quinn gulped as Rachel started swaying her hips to the music filtering in from above. Rachel raised her arms and started lowering her body to the floor and back up again. She circled Quinn a few times while gently caressing her shoulders with her fingers.

When Rachel was now standing directly in front of her, all she could do was get lost in those deep brown eyes and fighting the urge to reach out for her. Rachel was getting closer and from this angle, Quinn could clearly see how smooth and toned Rachel's legs were. All of this was not making her feelings between her legs any easier.

"Quinn, relax."

Rachel gently lowered herself on Quinn's lap. Quinn could clearly see Rachel's body almost touching her "just for tonight" appendage. She could clearly tell that Rachel was getting into this way more than she planned if the dark patch between those sinful legs was any indication. She had to control herself or else she would have pushed her hips forward without any sort of inhibition whatsoever. Rachel swayed in tune to the music carefully avoiding touching Quinn's more intimate of places. Quinn could feel her fingers combing her recently chopped blonde hair. She closed her eyes as she let this experience wash over her like anything she has ever experienced before.

As those soft fingers left her, she opened her eyes just as Rachel was reversing her position. She was right, she was wearing a thong and the sight before her made the tightening pressure between her legs more alarming. She knew Rachel was blessed in that area but witnessing it front and center was something entirely different.

Rachel was getting too close for comfort and Quinn drew in an unexpected deep breath. She can't believe how this is making her more wet and aroused than she has ever felt before, even more than those times that she dared touch herself. When Rachel finally made herself touch Quinn's protruding bulge, it took all of Quinn's self control to not come right then and there. One more slow thrust from Rachel and Quinn couldn't take it anymore. Her body was shaking as she could feel herself releasing years and years of tension. Convulsing waves were washing over her and made her toes curl for a solid 20 seconds. When it was all over, she released a breath she did not know she was holding.

"Oh God. Oh God. Quinn, I'm so sorry. All I really wanted was just a chance to ask you out for a cup of coffee. I sincerely apologize that you had to be subjected to this because I was too selfish and a coward for not being able to ask you myself without Santana interfering. How can I make it up to you?"

"How far is your apartment?"

"Umm... Just four blocks from here."

"Let's start with you taking me there right this instant."

"Of course," Rachel replied as she hurriedly untied the restraints on Quinn's wrist.

As they walked out of The Twain, Quinn couldn't help but think: Thank you Santana FuckingLopez.

A/N:

This was a last minute attempt to submit something for Faberry Week so please excuse the sheer amount of Beginners Quality in this. It's actually my first time to write anything like this and I hope you enjoyed it.