She did not acknowledge him as she returned to the table and took the root and placed it inside the glass of water. But she did acknowledge him when she went to the head of the table. Sal squatted down and began to stroke his hair as she looked him in the eye. “You have probably guessed my now what I am going to do with the ginger root, haven’t you?” she said to him. “Yes, Miss,” he sighed. “It will sting,” she told him as she stroked his forehead. “It will burn. It will bring tears to your eyes. But I am sure that you are man enough to take it.” “Yes, Miss,” he groaned. “But I will be merciful,” she told him. “Keep it in for a full ten minutes and I will reduce your punishment for incompetence to zero strokes. There will still be six strokes for insolence though. How does that sound, Bill?” “Thank you, Miss,” he told her. “Good, Bill,” she replied. “I knew that you would see it my way.” Sal stood up and reached for the scarf. Standing in front of him she folded it in two and. My little slave."He had kept the tone, but the content of his words made her scared. A slave? No. No, she had to get back to Boston, to her mother. Vanessa moaned in protest, unable to form any words in any language. "Shh, it's okay," he cooed at her as if she were a very small child. He stood up. When speaking English, his voice was hardly accented, but his German was fluent. When he said certain words, she could tell that his native must be German; she'd spent the most time in Germany and she could recognise that accent easily, but the other man had a slightly different accent to his, she guessed that it was Austrian. The men spoke in German again for a few moments before the man who had spoken to her left the cold cell. The Austrian man walked closer to her as her body slumped against the concrete, though she was still chained with her arms above her head. A needle could be felt injecting into her arm. She was being sedated again, like she had been when abducted. She hadn't been.
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