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.i went out of that place.. and reached home in evenin.. moms look like very casual.. i went to bathroom directly at that time that aunt takin bath. i use the bucket for the height to see through the window. but that time the bucket broken and makes much noise. my mom rushed to bathroom and asked me wat happen at that time i wear only an underwear. a huge bulge was clearly visible through the underwear. i dont know what to say she come out and she saw that aunty was takin bath. my mom asked me r u watchin that aunty takin bath. i said no. but she didnt agree. she started shoutin that this is bad etc etc. i cant control my self and i asked her wat u wil do in the mornin daily???she doesnt know wat to say.. she is blabbaling at that time. after that i asked wat happen in the afternoon while uncle fucks u well i asked. she is shocked and she went out of that place..after that she went to her room didnt come out for a long time. after that she came out for serving me dinner.. durin dinner. Two men grabbed 15 and moved her to the mast in the centre of the ship, lifting her arms above her head and securing her manacles to a hook.The sound of the whip slicing through the air coincided with the first scream from 15, as the whip cut its way across her back, the red welt appearing instantly. Even before the scream died on 15’s lips the whip sliced through the air and another scream was wrenched from 15’s throat.By the time the last stroke landed. 15’s back was covered in red welts, no two on top of each other. She had almost collapsed the hook holding her up, her legs not able to do so.As the last stroke landed, the two men lifted 15’s manacles from the hook and dragged her to one side, ignoring her tears and her whimpering.Without a word they advanced on 27, who, at first, tried to struggle. Having seen what had happened to 15, she would have done anything not to be whipped, but the two men were far stronger, and had freedom of movement, dragging her with ease to the mast,.
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The tables were almost as dirty as was the floor, there were no pillows on the ramshackle chairs and benches, from the stove in the corner came puffs of smoke and too much heat. I had had my share of dubious food and cheap wine, but was not drunk — it would not have been a good idea for a woman on her own to get drunk in such a place. I was tired, but not sleepy. I did not want to think — or rather, there were things I did not want to think about. I had run out of things to read. I tried to ignore the sounds — the snores of those who had gone to sleep on the benches, with their cloaks as blankets if they had them, the heavy breathing and the loud or muted sounds of pleasure or pain from those who occupied benches but slept not, the drunken laughter and the sudden curses from the tables were cards or dice were played, the occasional shouts for more beer or wine — the pub catered to both tastes — and among all those sounds, I dimly heard the voice of the story-teller. I had missed the.

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