“Bend across the table!”

Warm skin on cold surface.  Gripping the edge to anchor against extra strokes for rising.

One!

Always the worst.  No matter how many times you’ve been here before.

Astonishment at the searing, mind-numbing intensity.  A line of fire ignites across flesh that an instant before was innocently at peace.

Two distracts from the mental violation, but increases the agony.

Three.  The grim struggle to hold on wavers.

Four and five, in quick succession.  Release tears, a wail of anguish, rather than let go the table.

Six!!  The promise this won’t be the last time.