I hated writing about what I was enduring at first but as theweeks passed my time with pen and paper became a solace to me. Recently, I decided to pub...ish my journals. I am not a writer and when Iset down the accounts of my ordeals, I often wrote in a form one might describeas 'streams of consciousness'. At other times I employed personal shorthand.In order that my experiences and feelings be presented in a more readable manner,I sent my journal to the author to be presented in whatever form he. Radha was confused as to what was happening. Her hands were paining and she was closing a release. She was brought back into this world by a stinging pain on her left ass cheeks. Her mother-in-law had spanked her ass with no mercy and full force to punish her. All she could hear over the pain was her mistress shouting.“Say it, I said say it, bitch!” shouted Kantabai.“Thank you, Mistress,” said Radha in a meek and crying voice.“I didn’t hear it, say it louder,” said Kantabai jerking her head. He sank onto the white leather sofa. It creaked under his weight and settled. The pictures on the wall stared at him accusingly. A huge sigh escaped his lips and he rested his face in his hands. Everything he had previously found familiar and comforting was now alien and detached. The china tea-set sat in the display cabinet, bought on impulse for his wife in the January sales and yet to be used. The vase on the mantelpiece used to be the most beautiful thing in the world to him, besides his. She asked if Icould sing for her. I did and sang one of our choir pieces, "Away in amanger".Mommy just turned to me and hugged and kissed me and told me she was sohappy for me. Doctor gave us all the scans and medical reports and said shewould write a letter of referral to our new doctor in Palm Beach. Doctorasked about my interests. Mommy and I told her all about my aversion torough sports, I liked intellectual things. Mommy had taught me to knit andsew and I also helped her in the kitchen to.
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