A/N Just some domestic mother/daughter F/f discipline, don't like don't read.

Takes place during The Purple Piano Project when Santana is thrown out of Glee.

The timeline is my own so it won't be exactly canon. I hope you enjoy.

RATED M

Chapter 14 Part 2

The more Santana thought about the analogy her Mamí has presented to her, the more she understood her point. She would be so disappointed her in father if he had done something illegal just to get ahead. She hadn't thought burning down that ugly ass purple decrepit piano had been an illegal act, but she could have been arrested if anyone at McKinley gave a shit about anything. The point is she knew right from wrong.

It became even clearer after speaking with Brittany. Last year, they all quit rather than let B get shot out of the cannon. Brittany tearfully asked if she would have let her get in the cannon if it guaranteed her the captaincy.

Santana had answered immediately, "No, baby. You are more important than anything else on Earth. I would protect you from that crazy ass bitch with my life."

"Thank you, San. I feel the same about you. Shouldn't protecting our friends, our real and only friends, be important as well? Coach needs you; she can't get rid of you. You don't need to do things that make you feel bad about yourself, or that get you in trouble."

"What about being Captain?"

"Is being captain worth hurting some innocent bystander, or hurting Glee club and your friends?"

Santana thought long and hard about that, she finally answered simply, "No, it's not," she felt so defeated. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known that dealing with Sylvester is like making a deal with the devil. The Latina wanted to keep her soul, thank you very much.

The two secret lovers forgave each other, and spent a few minutes talking softly until it was nearly time for Maribel to come talk to her daughter.

Santana lay quietly on her bed thinking, until her mother's soft knock brought her out of her reverie. Maribel walked into the room, "Have you had a chance to calm down, Santana?"

"Yes, Mamí," she sat up quickly. Her mother was holding that wretched wooden spoon. She was shocked. It was not where the Latina was usually punished. Most of the time, it took place in the kitchen. Well, a few times outside the house, but she'd rather not think about those humiliating and painful times right now.

Maribel came in and pulled out her daughter's desk chair, and sat down tiredly. Being a mother was the hardest and most rewarding thing she had ever done. Times like now, well those were the difficult times. She sat the spoon down on the desk with a clatter, nearly laughing out loud at the way her daughter's eyes got big and round.

The younger Latina sat up with her feet handing over the bed. She was facing her mother trepidatiously, and hating her nervousness. It wasn't like she was a stranger to being spanked. Her mother always used corporal punishment for something she considered dangerous or major. Santana figured illegally burning down school property was probably something her Mamí considered major.

"Would you care to tell me what conclusions you've come to?" Maribel prompted.

"I thought about the question you asked me about Papí," she paused not for effect, but to prove to her mother that she was serious, "I would be very disappointed in him, just like everyone is disappointed in me," her guilt was clear in her voice.

Her mother nodded solemnly, "why do you think I'm disappointed niña?"

Santana looked at her mother; the woman was so strong and loving. Santana couldn't imagine her making these kinds of mistakes growing up. She knew better though. Her other abuela had told her stories before she had died when Santana was ten years old. She knew her Mamí had spent time over her abuela's knee growing up. She just needed to be honest with her.

"I think you're disappointed because I'm a better person than I've been acting."

Maribel was surprised but kept it from showing. She just nodded her approval, and motioned for Santana to continue.

The teen continued, "I just want things so badly sometimes, Mamí."

"I know, bebé, I do. You are strong, intelligent, passionate, talented young woman. Of course, you want things, and of course you have strong feelings. You're a Lopez, querida. You come from a long line of strong men and women."

"I knew it was wrong when I did it. I made excuses to justify why it was alright to do, but I knew it was wrong," she sniffled and put her head down, fully ashamed of her actions.

Maribel got up and sat down next to her daughter. She wrapped an arm around her shaking daughter, "You must learn to temper your impulsivity with wisdom, and that only comes with age and experience, mija," she leaned over and kissed her daughter's temple, "unfortunately, I deliver the experience."

Santana looked up quickly, noticing the twinkling mischievousness in her mother's eyes, "sometimes very painful experience," the teen grimaced at her Mamí's words.

She hugged her daughter, and went back to the chair, "So Santana, you understand why you are being punished then tonight?"

"We're doing it here, in my room. You never punish me here?"

"When you were little, I didn't want you to equate your bedroom with punishment. I wanted you to have a safe place, a comfortable and happy place. It's why I would bring you here to comfort you. I don't think we have that problem anymore, unless you'd feel more comfortable in the kitchen, mija?" Maribel said sincerely.

"No, Mamí. It's fine here."

Maribel sighed, and patted her lap, "Alright then, let's get this over with shall we?"

Santana stood up and reluctantly walked over to stand in front of her mother. Submitting was the hardest part of this for her. She could never do anything easily that chipped at her strong sense of pride. Lowering herself over her mother's lap was pretty humbling, especially at her age. She hesitated a moment too long.

"¡Dios mío," Maribel huffed, as she reached up and pulled her daughter down over her lap, "enough already."

"Ugh," the teen grunted at the unexpected action.

"What you did today was dangerous and illegal," she brought her hand down firmly on the girl's clothes covered backside. She wasted no time whatsoever getting to the punishment at hand.

Santana groaned at the stern tone, it was going to be a long night.

Maribel brought crisp hard spanks down as she lectured. The young girl felt the burning warmth begin, and it was starting to get uncomfortable. She answered when appropriate, but often wondered why anyone bothered to lecture during a spanking. The only think on her mind at the moment was the burning in her ass.

As if her Mamí could read her mind, she reached up, hooking her fingers in the teen's shorts and panties. In one well practiced maneuver, she had them securely down around the girl's knees. With an experienced eye, she judged the warm pink cheeks to be sufficiently warmed up.

"I don't want another phone call about you like the one I got today. Is that clear, young lady?" She slapped her hand down hard.

Santana squeaked at the unexpected strength behind the spank, "Ow, yes Mamí. It's clear."

"Good!" That was all she said, as she painted a rosy picture over the tone backside with a skilled hand. She worked her way all around. Two hard swats to the left side, two hard swats to the right, two on each sit spot as the heat intensified, and Santana started to wiggle around in a vain attempt to avoid the maternal hand.

A hard swat to each upper thigh, "stop wiggling around, this will be over when I say it is."

Tears filled those dark chocolate eyes. She was dreading the spoon. The young Latina knew that was next. The heat in her backside had intensified, and she was no longer able to remain silent. She started to apologize sincerely. She was always sincere at this stage of her spankings.

"Mamí please, I am so sorry. I won't ever do anything like this again. I won't I promise. Ow, please no more," she cried in earnest now. Hating that she had been reduced to crying like a child over her mother's lap. They hadn't even got to the hard part yet.

Maribel was a little taken aback by her usually stoic daughter's verbal and emotional reaction to her hand spanking. After a solid two minutes that felt like an hour to the teen, she deemed her daughter sufficiently warmed up. She stopped spanking for a moment, and observed her handiwork. The girl's backside was glowing pink. She was crying quietly, but it was obvious it was not completely because of the punishment. Maribel took it to be remorse. She wavered momentarily, but decided to stick firm to her decision, "Santana Bianca, hand me the spoon please."

The teen wavered, but a hard swat to the middle of her ass changed her mind. Her breath hitched as she reached down and picked the spoon up off the floor. She turned her head slightly, as she handed the spoon back, "I'm so sorry that I disappointed you again, Mamí."

The mother tightened her grip around her daughter's waist. Experience taught her that her daughter's athletic body and legs would twist and turn and fight this next part, "After we finish this part, Santana you are completely forgiven. I may be disappointed in your actions, but I will never be disappointed in you, mija."

Steeling herself against her own sadness, Maribel instructed her daughter to breathe, "Relax, mija, we are almost finished." She brought the spoon down hard and fast. It struck with a loud slapping noise, and Santana cried out.

"OWWWWWW, Mamí, please," she was sobbing for real now. That stung like a million bee stings. She was no longer thinking of anything. Her thoughts were centered on the small target her mother was currently fixated on.

Maribel continued her steady rhythm, as her daughter bucked and kicked. She twisted and turned to escape the awful stinging that was increasing with every swat of the spoon. She hooked her leg over the girl's legs, as she dipped her left leg lower. Santana recognized they were nearing the end of her punishment. It was the worst part, and she whimpered out loud.

"Almost done, Santana," she concentrated the rest of her energy on the sensitive sit spots, as her daughter wailed out her regret. It ended before she even realized. She was so focused on her ass. Her mother had stopped the minute she saw her daughter go limp over her lap and stop fighting. Santana was still writhing and crying. It hurt like hell.

Maribel helped her up, fixed her shorts, and held her as the girl cried bitterly. She rocked her back and forth as she used to do when she was a small child. It never failed to calm the girl, "Mija, what's going on with you tonight? This is not just guilt."

Santana grasped her mother fiercely, burying her head in her chest, "They all abandoned me Mamí, every last one of them. I was like I didn't matter to them at all, not even Mr. Schue," she sobbed as hard as her mother had ever heard before, "they all talk about us being family, and I let them in, Mamí. I let them see the real me, and they just let me walk away."

The mother's heart broke over the despair she heard in Santana's voice. It all made sense now. The teen's sadness earlier and the hopelessness she had sensed since the teen got home early, "Come on, let's sit down and talk this out."

Santana snorted snot and tears on her mother's shirt. She looked up woefully, and Maribel laughed despite her slight revulsion, "It's ok, mija. It's just a shirt. Come on."

She took her daughter by the hand, and led her to the bed. She had Santana lie on her stomach, her head in her lap. Stroking the long, jet black hair, the mother let her daughter cry until she was cried out, "Maybe, your friends were just disappointed as well. You forgave Brittany, didn't you?"

The mother smiled at the reluctant nod she received, "You may be hurt, but you know you forgave her. Aye, you as stubborn as your father."

Santana smiled despite her pain, she liked being compared to her Mamí. He was a good man. She was proud to be like him.

"I think you should apologize to your friends, for your choice in burning that piano," she felt her daughter stiffen, "that piano was a symbol to them, mija. Your friends, you, Brittany have all been treated awfully in that school. The burning of that piano was just another slap in their face. Imagine how they felt to see you do that."

Santana felt a pang of regret, but her pride was still strong, "Do I have to apologize? Is that part of my punishment?"

"No, I understand how much they hurt you today. I think it's the right thing to do though. I'll let you think about it, and decide what the right thing to do is," she patted her daughter's back.

"Mamí, will you…." the teen squirmed, "nevermind."

"What, my love?" she bent over and kissed the top of her daughter's raven hair passionately.

"Will you lay with me until I fall asleep?" Santana whispered meekly.

"Anytime, anywhere mi amor."

Maribel comforted her child until she fell asleep. Then she went downstairs, and made the call she had been dying to make.

"Hello?"

"Will, it's Maribel Lopez."

"Oh, is everything alright?"

"No it most certainly is not. I'm appalled at your behavior today. Just to be fair, I'm appalled at my daughter's as well, but she is a teenager. You are not."

"I'm not sure what she said, but I assure you I was completely justified to ask her to leave."

"I believe you were justified to be angry and disappointed, just as I am. She comes home every day singing. My daughter loves that club, and everyone in it. She is being influenced by Coach Sylvester, and you know that. That woman has been pressuring my child daily since freshman year. Look at what all the pressure to be perfect has done to Quinn Fabray. What have you done to help Quinn or Santana for that matter? You allow Rachel Berry to be verbally abused as well. All your talk of a family? What kind of man are you?"

"Maribel…" he tried to interject.

"I'm not finished yet," her tone was icy cold, "Quinn is falling apart. Santana is banned, and she won't be back to your club. Quit talking about family, if you don't act the part. For half of those kids, you are the only healthy male influence they will ever have."

"I didn't permanently ban Santana."

"I know my child, and she won't be back. That's her choice. You hurt her, and humiliated her. Most people don't get a second chance to wound her again. Of course, if you paid attention to the kids you claim to care about, you would already know that about my child. I'm disappointed in you Will Shuester. I don't expect anything from Sue Sylvester, but I certainly expected better of you."

Will stood there listening to the dial tone. He sat on his couch for a long time thinking of what the upset mother had accused him of. It was going to be a long sleepless night for him.

Santana apologized to her friends, but jumped at the chance to be in Trouble Tones. It took some time for her to be able to sit comfortably, but it took longer for her sore heart to heal.

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Sorry it took so long…. Let me know what you thought. I have a few more ideas for this story so I'm going to leave it open for now….. thanks for reading.