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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you made tommy look like a fool, so he doles out a punishment that he deems appropriate (inspired by this ask and this ask) 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.9k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (MDNI!), dubcon (the punishment isn't exactly wanted but the sex, reader is 100% into), impact play (spanking, belting), slutshaming, age gap (tommy is early 40s, reader is 20-something), unprotected sex, glimpses of sweet tommy 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | THANK GREY THIS IS HER DOING GO FLOOD HER WITH LOVE @earlgreydream // taglist blog: @cremebruhleewrites

If you had known that getting in a scrap with the Kimbers would lead you to where you were now, you wouldn’t have done it. That’s not to say that you didn’t enjoy the fight; you had slashed that dumb bitch with your cap, cutting your fingers in the process, and it had filled your body with adrenaline. You loved the feeling of it, but you regretted it the exact moment Finn found you at the Garrison.

“Tommy wants to talk to ya,” he said. “He seems pissed.”

The house was empty when you showed up, and, honestly, you were thankful. You didn’t exactly care for anyone else to hear Tommy chewing you out; you could do without that humiliation. You weren’t entirely sure what Tommy thought about you, to be honest. He seemed like he liked you well enough— after all, he had granted you entrance into the Peaky Blinders, which, for a young, poor girl that had nothing going for her in life, was a lifesaver— but, when he was angry at you, he was angry. He yelled, threw things, was an absolute terror. But only at you. His anger was typically quiet and reserved, but, when he was pissed at you, he let go of every reservation and showed you just how angry he was. You had no idea why he was so strict with you, and you hated it. Every time you made him angry, it ate at your stomach, almost reminding you of what a failure you were. You always ended up crying, and Tommy never apologized for upsetting you.

You knew that Tommy was sitting in his little study, and you tightened your grip around your peaky cap as you lightly knocked at the heavy door. You could hear the crackling of a fire from within and you could smell his cigarettes, and his deep timber almost rattled your bones: “Come in, doll.” He always called you a doll, and you were never quite sure why. Maybe you reminded him of Ada, and he treated you as close to a sister as possible. That was the only explanation you had.

Tommy sat at his big wooden desk, leaning back in his chair as he smoked. “Close the door behind you,” he told you, and your heart seized up. He was calm. It made your skin crawl. You hated to think what he was going to do if he was calm. Carefully, you pushed the door closed behind you, and you dug your fingernails into your cap as you turned back to Tommy.

“What is it?” you asked, and Tommy gestured to the chair opposite him.

“Sit,” Tommy told you. “I just wanna talk with you. Would ya like something to drink?”

Every nicety that Tommy spewed only served to make your stomach twist tighter and tighter in fear. You shook your head as you slowly approached his desk, and the leather chair squeaked under you as you sat down. You crossed your legs at the ankle like a proper lady, despite wearing Finn’s hand-me-down trousers; it was easier to fight in trousers than a dress. Suddenly, your attire felt entirely inappropriate. You were sitting in front of Thomas, your boss and the most powerful man in Birmingham; you shouldn’t be wearing trousers and suspenders and a shirt, you should be wearing a dress. Your fingernails went deeper into your palms as Tommy dragged on his cigarette, and he spoke. “I heard something odd earlier,” he said. “Peaked my interest, it did. I heard through the grapevine that you and my brother got into a fight with some of Kimber’s men. S’that right, doll?”

You bit your bottom lip hard, and you nodded. “That’s right,” you told him.

“What was the purpose of it?” Tommy asked.

You worried the soft back of your cap in your hands as you tried to articulate your words, and you mumbled, “Th-They had said something about Polly. Real nasty stuff, Tommy. I— We couldn’t let it slide.”

Tommy nodded. “Right,” he mumbled, and he flicked a bit of ash off of his cigarette. “Well, doll, I think you might be pleased— or displeased, it all depends, you see— to know that Kimber and I had come to a pause yesterday. We said no fightin’, no thievin’, so long as they leave Small Heath alone. I gave Billy Kimber my word as an Englishman that there’d be no fighting.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Tommy, I didn’t know—”

“Of course you didn’t know,” Tommy said, his blue eyes focused on his cigarette. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have done it. Right? You’re a better girl than that.”

“Yes, yes,” you said quickly. “I’m really sorry, I-I’ll go to Billy Kimber myself and apologize.”

“No need for that, doll,” Tommy told you. “Those Kimbers want nothing to do with us now. They think we’re untrustworthy, that my word as an Englishman means nothing. The damage is done, and there’s no point for you to go beggin’ Billy for some lousy forgiveness. But, me, on the other hand…”

Your stomach twisted, and you felt sick. You knew that, whatever punishment Tommy gave you, you were fully deserving of, but you hated having done so wrong by the Shelbys. You opened your mouth to apologize, the muscles in your legs flexing as you prepared yourself to get on your knees and beg Tommy to forgive you, but Tommy shook his head as he aggressively stubbed out his cigarette into the small ashtray on his desktop.

“You’ve shamed the Shelby name,” Tommy told you. His startling eyes lifted up to yours, and your breath caught in your throat. There was that fire that Tommy possessed, burning bright in his blue eyes. He had been angry this entire time; this was only the first time he was showing it. “And you’ve disappointed me. Ya hear me? You oughta be ashamed of yourself, making’ the whole of Birmingham think we’re bastards who don’t keep our word! Arthur said that we should kill ya to save yourselves the trouble of fixing our reputation; say you’re the odd one out, shoot ya, put you down like a horse, wash our hands of your bullshit.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, and you sniffled. “Tommy, please,” you whimpered. Tommy had killed people for lesser reasons, and you knew that he had the will to shoot you dead in his office, then and there. “I-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I-I’ll do whatever I’ve gotta to fix everything, please don’t—”

“What?” Tommy said. “You think I’d kill ya?” He shook his head and chuckled a bit, almost as if you had told him some sort of joke. When his eyes opened again and focused on you, you watched his bottom lip slot between his teeth, and he cocked his head slightly. “No, I won’t do that. That would be such a waste of such a darlin’ little face. No, I’ve got a better idea.”

Your mouth was dry, and you struggled to swallow. “Wh-What is it?”

Tommy leaned back in his chair, pushing himself away from his desk. His chair scraped awfully against the floor, and he gestured for you to come close to him. You didn’t feel like you were in control of your own legs as you rose from your chair and moved behind his desk to stand in front of him, and your fingers anxiously tangled together. “I’m gonna put you over my knee,” Tommy told you. “And remind you of what happens to disobedient little bitches like yourself.”

Your heart stopped, lodging itself in your throat, and you opened your mouth in confusion. “You’re going to do what?” you asked meekly.

“You heard me, doll,” Tommy said. “Now, take down your trousers and get over my knee. Unless I gotta help you do it.”

You couldn’t even form a good word. Your mouth became even more dry than before and you twisted your fingers even tighter, and you finally managed to squeak out, “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Tommy asked. “You humiliated me, so I’ll humiliate you. That way, you’ll learn. Now, I’ll tell you one more time before I do it for you: take off your pants, and bend over my knee.”

“No,” you said quickly, taking a half-step back. “No. I-I’d rather you kill me.”

Tommy sighed heavily, his legs parting to open his thighs, and he reached out for you. “The more you hesitate,” he said, and he carefully took you by the strap of your suspender. “The worse it’ll be. I’m not in a kind mood right now, doll, and the more you refuse only makes me angrier.” He slowly unclipped one suspender from your trousers, then the other, and your face burned with shame as he worked the patched-up trousers down past your hips. “Look at you, wearing those panties like a whore. What happened to the bloomers that little girls wear?”

“I-I’m not a little girl,” you stuttered out. “I’m twenty—“

“You’re still little to me,” Tommy said. His hands lightly caressed your waist, his thumbs digging into your hip bone, and he added, ”On the floor, now.”

“Tommy—“

A firm slap landed on your cheek, jerking your head to the side with powerful force. Pain immediately bloomed on your blazing cheek, and you swallowed a pained gasp. “Do as I tell you,” Tommy said through gritted teeth. His hair had fallen from its nicely-styled coif onto his forehead, and his cheeks turned red with anger. “You’re only making it worse for yourself. Stop being a nasty little bitch and do it, or I might have half a mind to call Arthur and Finn in here to help me punish you.”

You didn’t see any other choice, and you sniffled back tears as you carefully sank to your knees in front of Tommy. The humiliation was awful, and your whole body felt as if you were on fire as Tommy’s warm hands grabbed your arms and brought you over his knee. Your chest pressed up against his thigh as you grabbed the edge of his chair for stability, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when Tommy’s hand smoothed down the swell of your ass, covered only by those dumb little lace panties you wore. You silently prayed that he would hurry up and get this punishment over with, but his slender index finger dug under the elastic hugging your thigh, and he snapped it back against your skin. “Let’s take these off,” Tommy mumbled, and he worked the panties down your thighs with a single, skilled hand. You shifted a bit to help him, and your skin bristled as the warm air of the room hit your pussy. It felt so, so wrong and your entire body felt swallowed by a flame, and you were so distracted by the awful feeling of shame that you didn’t fight when Tommy pulled your mouth open with his thumb and shoved the bundle of lace and silk into your mouth. “Gotta keep you quiet, pet,” he whispered, soothingly brushing his rough palm across the smooth skin of your bare ass.

And then, his hand came down on your ass with a bone-rattling crack. The pain didn’t register at first, but your body jolted forward anyway. You groaned through your mouthful and hung your head, and you whimpered when the white-hot pain finally hit your nerves. Before you could even think to react any other way, a second smack hit your other asscheek, and you dug your fingernails into the wooden leg of the chair. “Hmm,” Tommy grunted. “I’ve got a dilemma, pet. I wanna keep you quiet, so my dodgy brothers don’t come and find me spanking’ ya like a wee child, but I also feel inclined to hear you thank me for putting you right. What do you think, doll?”

You shook your head quickly, tears blurring your vision. Both options sounded torturous, and you wanted neither of them, but Tommy smacked your ass again, hard, using all of the muscle he had. “Option one or two, doll?” Tommy asked. “Aw, are you too dumb to answer me? Get a good little hit or two and the pretty little bitch forgets how to speak?”

Your hand frantically fell from the chair leg and found Tommy’s calf, and you quickly tapped his leg twice. If you had to choose, you wanted the panties gone; you wanted to be able to cry and heave and sob. Maybe, if he heard how in pain and how ashamed you were, he would end this song and dance quickly. Tommy swatted the back of your thigh quickly, as if getting the last word in, and he removed the spit-soaked panties from your mouth. “Now, you’ve gotta thank me,” he said, as if explaining it to a child. “Really put your chest into it, love. ‘Thank you, Mr. Shelby’. Each time I strike ya, I expect a thank-you.” As if to practice, he smacked your ass again, and you bit back a yelp.

“Th-Thank you, M-Mr. Shelby,” you stuttered. Your ears were ringing, but not loudly enough to drown out the sound of Tommy’s grunt.

“That’s more like it,” Tommy said. His free hand came up to your head, his fingers lightly playing with the messy ends of your hair that stuck out from your bun, and he swatted your burning ass quickly, three times in a row. Each hurt worse than the last, and you drew in a strangled breath.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” you whispered. “Thank you, thank you.”

“I don’t wanna hear anything about you fightin’ ever again,” Tommy said, striking your thighs again. You mumbled out your line, and you could almost feel Tommy’s smile burn hotter on your skin than his palm. “Not the Kimbers. Not the Solomons. Not even bleedin’ Finn, ya hear me? No more fucking fighting from you. D’ya understand?”

You sniffled up your tears. “Y-Yes, sir,” you whispered, and your heart fell to your stomach as Tommy hit you again. This time, though, his strike wasn’t focused on your ass or thighs; it was squarely on your pussy, like he had aimed right for it. In any other situation, you might have enjoyed the feeling of it, but you clenched your back teeth. “Thank you, Mr. Shelby.”

“You tensed a bit, pet,” Tommy chuckled. “Don’t want me slapping your dirty cunt, huh? Ah, I’m sure she’s seen worse than my hand, hasn’t she?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Truthfully, no, she hadn’t. She hadn’t seen much of anything. Even though it was proper and what was expected of women your age, you felt ashamed to admit to Tommy that you were a virgin. The only thing that you had experienced was a bit of drunken touchy-feely when you were seventeen, and even that didn’t go very far. You were waiting for the right person, you suppose. But, again, you had no desire to divulge that to Tommy at that moment.

“I’m talking to you, girl,” Tommy grumbled and struck your pussy once more, jolting you forward. “How many cocks have you taken in you, you filthy fucking whore? I bet the whole of Birmingham at this point, eh?”

You couldn’t help the acidic vitriol that bubbled in your mouth, and you barked, “I’d reckon about the same amount of women that you’ve fucked. If I’m a whore, then you’re a downright slag.”

The room was quiet for a moment before Tommy grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up. “S’fucking it,” he growled, and he pushed you against his desk. Your hips collided roughly with the hard wood, and you couldn’t even fight him as he dragged your shirt over your head, not even having the patience to unbutton it. All you were left in was your flimsy brassiere, and Tommy took quick care of it, ripping it cleanly down the back and shoving it down your arms. “I could handle the fightin’ and the cursin’ and the drinkin’, but absolutely— I absolutely will not— tolerate you calling me that. You’ve done it now, doll, you leave me no fucking choice…”

You couldn’t even comprehend what the sound that hit your ears was, a sort of quick slide of skin on fabric, before a bolt of lightning hit your ass. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like. The pain of it made your knees buckle, and you cried out as you grabbed at the desk. “Thank me!” Tommy spat, winding his thick, leather belt around his fist. “I told you what to do, now do it. Thank me for disciplining you!”

Your lip trembled, and your voice shook as you managed to stutter, “Th-Thank you, M-Mr. Sh-Shelby! Fuck!”

The belt hit your ass with a sound like a whip cracking, and you cried again. Your tears were now running down your cheeks, and you knew what you had done wrong. “I-I’m sorry! Didn’t m-mean to curse, m’sorry, Mr. Shelby!”

“Save your sorrys,” Tommy said through gritted teeth, and the buckle of his belt chimed softly before he cracked it along your ass. The cold of the metal buckle bit harder than the leather, and you felt a sort of cold buzzing infiltrate your thighs. It was a numbness, almost, but not quite. “You did this to yourself. Disobeying me and making me look like a fool to the whole town, do you think people’ll want to do business with us now? Thinkin' we’re dishonest and don’t keep our word? I should just kill ya, shove your body in the river and be done with you. But I can’t do that. I won’t do that.” He whipped the buckle against your ass again, and you cried again at the pain. “You know why I won’t do that? Take a guess, pet, take a wild fucking guess why I don’t wanna kill you.”

You couldn’t even form any words in your pain-blinded brain before you felt Tommy’s warm body press against yours, and the scratch of his trousers against your welted ass made you whimper. But, even through the sensitivity and pain, you could feel something through his woolen trousers. He was hard. Tommy pressed his erection right up against your throbbing ass, and the feeling of it made you feel lightheaded. It couldn’t be true. Was Tommy turned on by this torture? Or was it you? Or, maybe, it was some sick combination of the two. “I don’t feel like killing you…” Tommy began, his teeth nipping at your neck. You gasped at the feeling of his hands groping at your ass, and he swiped a finger along your leaking pussy. It was true, there was some part of you that was aroused by the entire feeling, but, as you considered it, it wasn’t the pain that turned you on. It was Tommy. It was him showing that he had total power and dominance over you and, even if he was mean, that he would take care of you. Maybe his care wasn’t roses and kisses like any other man’s, but Tommy’s care was as simple as not killing you when everyone says differently. Even though he was bruising you and scarring you, he was protecting you and taking care of you, in his own special way. “...Because I can’t fuck you if you’re dead.”

“Tommy,” you sobbed. Your hands lifted from the desktop and scrambled behind you, trying to find purchase on any part of him that you could, and your small hands were filled by his quickly. “Tommy, please, fuck me, I-I’ll do whatever you want—”

“Shut up,” Tommy growled. “Bend over, show me that pretty cunt. Gotta get one last good look at it, you’ll be fuckin’ destroyed by the time I’m done with you.”

You did as Tommy told you, lowering yourself onto your elbows to present yourself to him, and you heard him let out a heavy, strangled groan. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat as you heard Tommy undoing his pants, and he grabbed you by your loose hair and pulled you back. Your shoulders hit his, your back colliding with his chest, and you hardly had a moment to remark on the strange twist of your spine before you felt him press his burning hot cock against your ass. The welts on your skin didn’t help make the experience of him any less painful, but, when you whimpered in pain, he shushed you gently, his lips right next to your ear. “Gotta keep quiet, doll,” Tommy whispered. “It’s one thing if someone walks in on me punishing you; it’s another if someone catches us in flagrante delicto.”

You held down your moan at the sound of his beautiful voice wrapping around the Latin, and you pushed yourself up against him, despite the pain. “Fuck, Tommy…” you whined, and one of his big hands fell from your hair to grab your throat. His fingers nestled nicely on top of your vein, as if his hand was made with your throat in mind, and you knew that it wasn’t the lack of blood flow that made your head swim. It was the feel of his rough skin, the smell of him around you, that made you lose your inhibitions.

Tommy took a deep breath, and he spit a mouthful of saliva down onto your cunt. Even though you were already soaking wet, Tommy chuckled and spread it with the tip of his finger for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch, and he finally touched the head of his cock to your wet pussy. Without so much as a word, he flexed his hips, sinking himself into you. It was him who made the first noise, a sort-of choked grunt that caught deep in his throat. “God,” he mumbled. “Fuck, girl. You’re so tight… You feel like a virgin, God.”

His hand tightened around your throat as his other arm wrapped tight around your middle, and Tommy began to rock his hips into you. Every inch of his hot cock that broke you in half made your breath hitch and come out in high whines, and Tommy only chuckled cruelly. “Oh, you like that?” he whispered, his front teeth catching your ear. “Well, pretty girl, there’s hope for you yet.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” you asked, and your body shivered when Tommy’s cock nestled into that soft spot inside you.

“You’ll be good and obedient after this,” Tommy said. “If you ever hope to get this cock again, you’ll have to be a perfect girl, do as I tell you, yeah? ‘Yes sir’, ‘no sir’, that type of woman.”

As much as you hated to admit he was right, he absolutely was. Even just the hot drag of his cock against your throbbing walls doomed you, and you knew as well as he did that this would not be the last time Tommy fucked you. You might have even considered acting out more often to gain his affections, but it seemed as if the one time was enough to ignite that flame. But you knew that, even though Tommy claimed to need you to act a certain way, you could certainly charm him into your bed (or, more aptly, over his desk) once more, no matter what.

Each dirty thrust he gave you made you feel a hot electric shock in your thighs and stomach, and, even though you had no intentions on revealing your virginity at that point, you knew that you were already nearing your orgasm. Your legs felt weak, and you braced your hands against his desk to keep yourself upright. His hard fucks rattled his desk, shaking the pens and papers around, and you jumped at the shock of his heavy metal fountain pen tipping off the side. Tommy kept you firmly in his arms, though, and his palm around your throat rose up to your jaw. He grabbed your face with almost a bruising force, and he turned your head to the side, and you came face-to-face with his flushed face and blown-out pale blue eyes. His hair was hanging over his pale forehead, dotted with a bit of sweat, and his mouth was slick with spit, open and panting as he fucked you. “Goddamn you,” he whispered. “You’re gonna make me cum just that fast. S’like I’m a fuckin’ schoolboy…”

His words made your soaking walls throb and tighten around him, and his eyebrows wrinkled as he moaned deliciously into your mouth. Your own mouth felt so dry, and your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you tried to swallow, but Tommy stopped you altogether, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was hardly a kiss, your open mouths pressed together, breathing each other in and tasting each other’s tongues, but it was perfect. Tommy wasn’t a regular gentleman, and this was as close to romance as he was capable of: savagely belting your ass for wrongdoings, then fucking the daylights out of you. The taste of your mouth seemed to spur him closer to his end, because his thrusts suddenly sped up, working you quicker and quicker and making the shaking of his desk even louder.

The arm around your waist loosened for a moment, and you almost sighed in relief, thinking Tommy was going to take pity on you and turn you around to face you as he came, but he wasn’t nearly that nice. Instead, his hand focused downward, and the rough pads of his fingers found your clit. He didn’t wait to play with you, smirking into your neck as you keened back into his body. “Tommy!” you squealed, your thighs trying to clamp shut, but Tommy fixed that in an instant, removing his hand from your sensitive bundle of nerves to land a smack on your flaming ass.

“Keep your legs open,” he grunted into your neck, nibbling lightly at your skin. “We’re almost done, bitch, keep your legs open and keep being good for me.”

“A-And then what?” you stuttered out. “What happens a-after this?”

Your ears were ringing loudly with the amount of electricity running through your veins and flesh, but Tommy’s voice nestled deep in your body, overtaking your senses. “I’ll help clean you up,” he told you. “Tell Pol you fell off your horse and got dragged, s’why your poor arse is all torn up. Get you a drink, maybe let you sleep in my bed…”

“Really?” you whimpered.

Tommy scoffed, and you could imagine his eyes rolling into his skull. “M’not a monster, doll,” he told you. “Just ‘cause I fuck rough doesn’t mean I’m entirely worthless. I’ll have you know I’m actually a master romancer.”

“You’ll have to prove it to me,” you breathlessly chuckled, and one of your hands came down from the edge of the desk to grab Tommy’s wrist. His fingers still tugged and pinched and rubbed your throbbing clit, and your knees grew weak again as your thighs began to tremble. “T-Tom… M’close, Tommy.”

Tommy moaned in your ear once more, and those plush pink lips of his kissed gently at the stretched tendon in your neck. “I can feel it,” he whispered. “Your warm little cunt, all tight and wet, just throbbin’, beggin’ to be filled. Have you ever been fucked like this before?”

“No,” you sighed, finally resigning yourself to telling Tommy the truth. “Y-You’re the first one.”

“I figured,” Tommy whispered. “Your little tears were too precious for a bitch who gets fucked like this all the time. Are you gonna cover my cock in your cum, doll? Gonna scream and cry, pet?”

You were almost relieved when Tommy didn’t ask about your history. Did he even care? You liked the idea of it. No matter how many men you had been with, Tommy didn’t care for the answer. It didn’t matter to him. All that mattered to him was that he fucked you hard; and, presently, he was soon to be rewarded for his efforts.

“Tommy!” you whimpered, your grip tightening around his wrist. He fucks began harder into you, touching that nerve inside you each time, and his skilled fingers worked quicker and quicker to draw you in. “Tom, I-I’m coming—”

You understood why the phrase was “a little death”. Your vision went white for a snap second, the ringing in your ears overpowered Tommy’s rough grunts, and your legs felt weak. You came out of the little moment quickly, and you laughed a little when you found that, in that single second, your legs had in fact grown too weak, and Tommy was holding you flush to your chest, keeping you upright. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Squeezin’ me like this…” His broad hand flattened against your back, between your shoulder blades, and he pushed you forward to lay against his desk. You shivered as your tits touched the cold wooden top, and your chest heaved as you caught your breath. When Tommy pulled his cock from you, you almost began to cry at the loss of his heat and the sudden sickening feeling of emptiness, but the neediness was fixed when you heard the sound of wet flesh slapping, and Tommy let out a strangled, guttural moan as he finished in his hand. His cum dotted your burning ass, ivory against vermillion, and he laughed just the same as you when his orgasm petered off.

“Good girl,” Tommy told you. “You took that punishment so well. I’m proud of you, lovie. Now, how about that drink? We can go to the Garrison.”

“I—” you started, and you laughed at your lightheadedness. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit.”

Tommy’s hands smoothed down your ass, and he sent one more, half-assed smack to your bruising, welted ass. “You can sit in my lap.”

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