Spanktember Prompt, Day 10: Caught In The Act

Warnings: This story contains the parental spanking of a teenager. It's a fictional story with a fictional minor. I do not condone the physical punishment of real-life children/teens or anyone who does not or cannot consent to such activities. It's a story, y'all. Chill!

Summary: Two weeks have passed since Shelby Corcoran first took daughter Rachel in hand for missing curfew. She thought the matter had been settled, but will soon discover that some things need repeating. Follows the events in Unfamiliar Territory.

Part 2 of 3 Rachel Berry Doesn't Believe in Curfews series

Déjà vu

Shelby Corcoran couldn't quite believe this was happening—again. It had been two weeks—TWO WEEKS—since she and Rachel had a late-night discussion regarding the girl's penchant for missing curfew. The mother thought she had been very persuasive in convincing her child to change her ways. The red bottom she had given the girl that night certainly seemed to say so.

Perhaps she had been too quick to end the spanking that first time. She knew she had been swayed by Rachel's tears and promises to do better—the sad little face that had stared back at her while asking 'is the spanking over now?' was the cherry on top. She wasn't going to make that same mistake tonight. Oh no, tonight Rachel was getting her tail lit up like a menorah on the last night of Hanukkah—and Shelby wasn't going to stop until she felt the lesson was truly learned!

The sound of a car pulling into her driveway brought Shelby back to the present and she rushed to the front door. Stepping out into the crisp October evening, she planted herself at the top of her steps (arms crossed and foot tapping), and waited for her child to emerge from the red VW Beetle.

Santana Lopez let out a low whistle from the front seat of Quinn Fabray's car while turning to look at the smaller brunette in the backseat. "Jesus Christ, Hobbit! What'd you do to get a stare down like that? It's only 9:34–not like you're cutting it close."

Rachel grimaced and shifted in her seat, her heart already beating a fast tempo inside her chest. "Y-Yeah, I…probably just forgot a chore or something," she offered lamely.

"Oof. Coach C is scary! Guess she's making up for your dads being pushovers, huh?" Santana laughed nervously. She didn't envy her friend one bit, having to go face that.

"Yeah, she's…strict," Rachel groaned.

"As a fellow member of the Strict Parent Club, take it from me, Rach—don't keep her waiting," Quinn said sagely.

Rachel sighed and nodded. She couldn't stay in the car forever, her friends still needed to get home before their own 10 o'clock curfew—and she wouldn't put it past her mother to come collect her if she took too long on her own. "Bye, guys," she muttered as she opened the back door and slipped out.

Quinn waved and Santana called out a quick "Good luck, Berry!" before the door shut again. Rachel took as much time as she dared waving her friends off and watching the car back out of the driveway.

"Rachel Barbra Berry," her mother hissed from the front porch.

Rachel winced and turned to cast nervous eyes up to her mother. "Mom, I can expl—"

"Get your little butt in this house—now."

The teenager paled and hurried toward her irate mother, throwing both hands behind her to block any possible swats coming her way. It would have worked too, if she didn't have to then open the front door. She yelped as her mother's hand cracked down on her legging-clad bottom, cursing herself for her poor choice in today's outfit.

"Mom—Ouch! Sorry!" she squealed, fumbling to work her mother's fancy (and stupidly complicated) door handle. She got it, but not before another hard swat landed. "Ow!"

"I cannot believe you!" Shelby seethed as she followed her child into the house. She shut the door harder than necessary and used the time it took to lock up to calm herself. "Two weeks, Rachel. It's been two weeks," she said as she turned to face her daughter properly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Rachel shifted on the spot and wrung her hands together. "It's actually been eighteen days," she corrected. Then her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Why had she said that?!

"Excuse me?" Shelby asked, incredulous. "Is that really how you want to start this conversation, young lady—with back-talk?"

Rachel shook her head frantically and then removed her hand to offer a hurried apology. "No, sorry. I'm sorry! I don't know why I said that—I didn't mean to!"

"No?" the mother asked, her eyebrow raised at a scary angle. "What did you mean to say?"

Rachel gulped and then licked her lips to buy some time. "I—I'm sorry, Mom. I…lost track of time?"

"Are you asking me—or telling me?" Shelby asked, her tone lowering ominously.

"T-Telling you," the teenager stammered. "I didn't mean to be late, I swear."

"Hmm."

"Mom—"

"You need to go upstairs and get ready for bed. I won't be long and we'll finish this dis—"

"Wait! Mom!" Rachel panicked. She knew where this was going. Her mind replayed her most recent punishment from the woman. The spanking she got two weeks (eighteen days) ago wasn't as bad as she had imagined it would be, but it still hurt plenty. And she definitely didn't want to face that again! "Please, I—I made a mistake."

"Okay," Shelby said, taking the bait. "When did you realize you made a mistake?"

"I—What?"

"What time was it when you realized your mistake and that you would be thirty-four minutes late for curfew?" Shelby reiterated and watched her child squirm. She didn't let the girl flounder for long, however. "You should have called as soon as you knew you were going to be late—then we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"I—"

"I'm not unreasonable, Rachel. You always have the option to call and talk to me and let me in on what's going on," Shelby continued. "I seem to remember telling you that the last time too."

"Oh," Rachel winced. Her mother was so much harder to work around, what with all of her logic and reason. Her dads were a lot easier!

Shelby had to work hard to school her features when Rachel braved a glance up at her. The girl's thoughts were plastered all over her face—Little Girl still had to learn that Mom was always several steps ahead of her.

"Upstairs now, Rachel," she told the girl, ignoring the big doe eyes thrown her way. "I'll be up soon."

"Mommy," Rachel whined, her eyes burning with welling tears (some of them were even real).

"Don't you 'Mommy' me, young lady. You chose to come home late, you're going to face the consequences. Upstairs—unless you need help getting there?"

Rachel gasped and jumped into action, giving her mother a wide berth as she passed her on her way to the stairs. Shelby sighed and watched her go, her shoulders slumping as soon as she heard the girl's bedroom door shut. Why did motherhood have to be so hard?

Rachel stripped off her clothes and tossed them in the direction of her laundry basket, not caring that they missed the mark—her mother was going to kill her, did it matter if there were dirty clothes on her floor when she did it? Digging around in the bottom drawer of her dresser, she pulled out an oversized t-shirt that used to be her mother's and slipped it over her head. She didn't bother with sleep pants—her mom was going to take them down anyway, and Rachel didn't really want any more material on her soon-to-be sore butt than absolutely necessary.

The knock on the door startled her. It wasn't time yet! A quick glance at the clock told her it was 9:42. That couldn't be the right time—could it? That would mean she'd only been home eight minutes. Did all of this really happen in eight minutes?!

The door opened and her mother stepped inside.

"I—I'm not ready!" Rachel yelped. "I haven't even brushed my teeth!"

"Okay, there's time," Shelby chuckled as she shut the door behind her. "Go brush your teeth, I'll wait for you."

Rachel's lip jutted out in a deep pout. Her mom gave her a sad little smile and drew her into a hug. "I-I'm sorry, Mommy," Rachel sniffled against the woman's chest.

"I know you are, sweetheart," Shelby said as she rubbed the girl's back. "We'll talk some more after you brush your teeth. Go on, now." She stepped back and nudged her child in the direction of her bathroom. She waited until the door shut behind Rachel, then moved over to the girl's bed.

Rachel reentered the room several minutes later, face washed and breath minty-fresh. Her tummy flipped at seeing her mom sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. The woman waved her over, but her feet didn't want to move.

"C'mon, Rach, this is happening. Let's not drag it out—it's getting late," Shelby coaxed. Her child groaned but took a step forward.

"I really am sorry, Mom," the teen said as she took another step closer to the bed. "I-I know I should've called, I just didn't think about it. And I really have been so good about curfew until tonight."

Shelby couldn't help but laugh and shake her head. "It's been eighteen days, Rach," she reminded her child. "We were going for three months, remember?"

"Mom—"

"And you were sorry eighteen days ago too—not to mention all the times before that," Shelby continued. "Pick up your feet, Rach. It's already your bedtime."

"Mommy," the girl whined, but closed the distance between them. Shelby took hold of both her hands and pulled Rachel in to stand between her knees.

"I made a mistake not giving you the spanking you deserved last time. I think I stopped before you truly learned the lesson I was aiming to teach you. That won't happen tonight."

"No! Please, I—This was a one-time thing. It won't happen again!" Rachel begged, tears flooding her vision.

"Yes, Rachel," Shelby answered firmly, reaching up to cup her daughter's cheek. "I'm the mom and you are the child. You are going to learn that what I say goes and that there are consequences to your actions—and that trying to talk your way out of it doesn't work on me." Shelby took a moment to wipe a lone tear that escaped.

More tears slipped down smooth cheeks and Shelby really did feel for her girl. She hated seeing her cry (especially when she was the one to put the tears there). Taking a deep, steadying breath, Shelby met her child's eyes once more. "I love you, Rachel Barbra," she said and then reached under the too-big t-shirt to the panties beneath.

"L-Love you," Rachel sniffed, swiping a hand across her eyes as her panties were lowered. They pooled at her feet and then she was being tipped forward over her mother's waiting knees.

Shelby adjusted her child further over her lap, making sure the girl's bottom was in prime position for the task, and then brushed the baggy shirt up and away from her workspace. She had already said everything she needed to and so she let her hand convey its own message.

"OWWW. Oooh please, Mommy! Owhowoow—OW!"

Shelby's hand crashed down again and again, painting her daughter's skin red-hot in a matter of seconds. The girl wiggled and squirmed and kicked her legs to no avail. Shelby had a firm hold on the teen and she wasn't going anywhere.

"Are we going to have this conversation again, Rachel?" Shelby asked, moving her attention to her child's sit-spots. She peppered the area with sharp swats, watching as the once-pale skin quickly colored to match the rest of the girl's bright-red bottom.

"Nooo! No, M-Mommy!" Rachel squealed, flinging her hand behind her. It was caught before it could do any good and pinned to the small of her back.

"I hope not," Shelby answered, hand cracking down with increased speed. "I will have this conversation with you as many times as you need me to until the message sinks in. Am I making myself clear?"

"Ye-Yes! Owwhow, yesss! Yes, yes—Please!" Rachel sobbed, bucking across a maternal lap.

The spanking was taking a toll on Shelby as well. She wasn't immune to her child's tears or begging—each one was like a white-hot knife to her heart. Almost done, it was almost done.

The mother paused and rubbed at hot skin, letting her daughter calm down for a moment. The girl wiggled and twisted her arm, trying to free the hand that Shelby still held in her own. She continued to hold it, signaling to her child that this wasn't over. Rachel let out a dejected sob and slumped against her.

"What time is curfew on the weekends?" Shelby asked, her hand stilling on Rachel's bottom.

"E-E-Eleven," the girl sobbed.

"Good girl," Shelby praised. "And what time is it on weekdays?"

"N-Nine!"

"Correct. What will you do if you want to stay out later than your allotted time?"

"I'll call and a-a-ask p-permission!" Rachel cried. "Please, I—I'm s-sorry!"

"Last one, Rach," the mother encouraged. "What will you do if you know you're going to be late for curfew?"

"C-C-Call!"

"That's my girl," came Shelby's warm approval.

"I'm sor—sorry, Mommy! P-Please can it be o-o-over now?"

Shelby's heart lurched and she was sure this was it—it had taken all the knives it could and now she would bleed out. A knot formed in her throat, threatening to choke her, and acid tears burned inside her eyelids. So much of her wanted to answer 'yes' to her child's question, but she knew she couldn't. That had been her answer last time and here they were—Eighteen days later.

"Almost, baby," she rasped, voice thick with emotion.

Before Rachel could form any other words, Shelby's hand was falling once more—nowhere near as hard or as fast as it had only moments ago, but still enough to reignite the blazing inferno that had been left to simmer.

Rachel gave a fierce, last-ditch effort to resist the spanking, but quickly wore herself out. She went limp after the tenth swat and cried for all she was worth. Shelby stopped immediately and then scooped her crying child up and into her arms to hold.

Rachel hissed and shifted until she had most of her weight on her hip, then buried her face into Shelby's neck, soaking her skin and shirt with her tears. She was aware that her butt was still very much on full display, hanging off the edge of her mother's lap in all its bright-red and glowing glory. Perhaps if she had been less tired and emotionally worn out, she'd have felt embarrassed over the fact. As it was, she couldn't be bothered. Besides, the cool air felt good against her scorched skin.

Shelby hummed and shushed and offered whispered reassurances to her child while Rachel cried herself out. When she finally did, Shelby set the girl on her feet and eased her panties back into place. Rachel winced and clapped her hands behind her as she hopped from foot to foot. Shelby stood and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, M-Mom," Rachel's voice was muffled against her mother's chest.

"Shhh, I know, baby," Shelby soothed, rubbing the girl's back. "It's over now and all forgiven. We'll start fresh tomorrow, okay?"

Rachel nodded before a big yawn overtook her.

"Let's get you in bed, sweetheart. It's a school night," Shelby said softly.

Rachel yawned again as she stepped back from her mother's warm embrace. She cast a tentative glance upward and chewed at her bottom lip.

"What's wrong, Rach?" Shelby asked, cupping her child's face.

"Can I…Can I sleep in your room tonight?"

"Of course you can, Rachel," the mother stressed. "You never have to ask to come sleep with me. My door is always open to you."

Rachel could feel the familiar sting of tears as her chin began to wobble.

"No more crying, baby," Shelby breathed, wiping away the single tear that slipped past dark lashes. She then took her child's hand and guided her across the hall to her own room.

Shelby turned back the covers and waited while Rachel settled in on her tummy. She then pulled the flat sheet up to the girl's shoulders, leaving the comforter down by her knees. Finally, she leaned down and brushed back her child's hair before placing a kiss to her temple.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams."

"Night, Mommy," Rachel mumbled sleepily.

Shelby smiled and went to get ready for bed herself. When she returned ten minutes later, her daughter was sound asleep. The mother set her alarm and then crawled into bed beside her. Wrapping an arm over the girl's waist, Shelby let out a deep breath—she was asleep almost instantly.

A/N: The third and final part of this series will be posted on the 13th for Spanktember prompt Use of Implements. ;)