Normally I love the hardwood floors in our den, but at times like this, with my face only a few inches above, it's almost like being in the corner - it takes away everything else that might be in my field of view, removing everything that might distract. Not that there might be much that would distract me from my current position - nude, draped over my husband's knee in preparation for a hard spanking. The cool air in the room and the anticipation makes me shiver and gives me goosebumps. I can feel the cool air reaching the flesh between my thighs, reminding me how exposed I am. It contrasts with the warmth I feel in my face, which I can't decide is blushing or just the blood rushing there due to gravity.

His hand grasps roughly at my elbow, and I obediently bring my arm up, bracing myself on the floor with the other one. He moves his grasp down to my wrist and brings it up to the small of my back. I know there's nothing left to do and my stomach does a little summersault.

I hear the first impact almost before I feel it. With the first one, it begins with breathtaking speed. One... two... three... I hear my own voice start to wail and then there's nothing but the sound and the fire. And it hurts and the tears blur my view of the floor. And there's nothing left but the fire and the crying.

And at last, there's nothing besides the crying. I never know when the spanking is over... I just realize it's over sometime after it is, when just enough of my sense returns so that I know his hand is resting on my bottom rather than striking it. In that moment, my crying eases just a little bit. He helps me up off his lap, stands, and envelops me in his arms. I put my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. I have no words yet, but the emotions that come back are shame and sorrow. And then he speaks. His voice is low and mild and comforting. And his words make the shame melt away and I feel love. And his arms holding me make me feel safe and protected. I know that the arm that makes me feel so protected was the same one that was mercilessly punishing my bottom only moments ago, but those aren't thoughts for now. Now is love, and tenderness, and peace, and forgiveness.

It doesn't matter now that I'm naked. It doesn't matter that I can feel the fire in my bottom pulsate with every beat of my heart. None of it matters. All that matters is the man I love the most has taken all of the darkness out and replaced it with love and acceptance.