I watched in horror as Dane picked out a whip from the many hanging off the wall. He took his hand and studied it, as if testing its efficiency. Memories of my last whipping flooded my mind and I could almost feel the pain on my body.

I wanted to speak, to beg for forgiveness but the words couldn’t come out. I remained frozen in silence, watching as Dane made his way to me, taking large measured strides, typical of a man on a mission.

He stopped in front of me. Since I was kneeling and couldn’t look up, I stared at his sandals. He had huge legs which thin...