The Mark - New York City, NY, USA

Conceived by French interior designer Jacques Grange, The Mark on Manhattan’s Upper East Side combines timeless elegance with bold, sophisticated accents and refined detailing. Its classy rooms, suites, and residences are impeccably decorated with bespoke designer furnishings, luxurious spa-like marble bathrooms, and state-of-the-art technology. One of the highlights is definitely the posh Mark Restaurant by Jean-Georges Vongerichten, where you can indulge in innovative European cuisine and world-class wines.

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“One!” I shout at him, and it sounds like an expletive.
He hits me again, and the pain pulses and echoes along the line of the belt. Holy shit…
that smarts.
“Two!” I scream. It feels so good to scream.
His breathing is ragged and harsh. Whereas mine is almost non‑existent as I desperately scrabble around my psyche looking for some internal strength. The belt cuts into my flesh again.
“Three!” Tears spring unwelcome into my eyes. Jeez – this is harder than I thought –
so much harder than the spanking. He’s not holding anything back.
“Four!” I yell as the belt bites me again, and now the tears are streaming down my face.
I don’t want to cry. It angers me that I am crying. He hits me again.
“Five.” My voice is more a choked, strangled sob, and in this moment, I think I hate him. One more, I can do one more. My backside feels as if it’s on fire.
“Six,” I whisper as the blistering pain cuts across me again, and I hear him drop the belt behind me, and he’s pulling me into his arms, all breathless and compassionate… and I want none of him.