WARNING: There is torture in this, nothing too bad but it's there. If sensitive, please skip. But for the rest, enjoy!
I woke up in the same painful position. I've been in the same position for God knows how many hours. As I lay there in agony, I hear the door being unlocked and then it squeak open. I look up to see Fletcher and two of his men. Fletcher's dark eyes pierce me; he was up to something.
"Morning beautiful." He sneers.
"What do you want?" I hiss under my breath.
"Time for a bath."
"I don't want one." I say stubbornly.
"Fine then, let me rephrase; you will be taking a bath." His men opened the cell and unchained me from the wall. I collapsed onto my wooden bench, thankful for release. The men yanked me up, and began dragging me out of the cell and up the stairs. We reach the top, and I am lead out into the bright sun. It burned my eyes, but it felt amazing on my skin. I was thrown on to the hard wooden deck. I look up to see the snickering crew gather around me as if for a show. I push myself up and weakly stand. Fletcher walks over to me and grabs a fist full of hair. "Now," he hisses in my ear. "Take off your dress." He releases my hair from his grip; I turn to glare at his amused grin; his eyes dancing with the mirth of my humiliation. I wanted to scream, stomp my foot on the ground. I wanted to sob uncontrollably; I wanted to jump overboard and end my misery. But I didn't. I refused to give him the satisfaction of my pain. Without taking my glaring eyes off Fletcher, my shaking hand went to the sleeves of my white dress that was now a light brownish grey. And I shed it letting myself bare and vulnerable in front of these dangerous animals. As the dress pooled around my feet, Fletcher passed me a bucket full of water, along with an old looking rag. He then smirked cruelly. "Don't miss an inch or I'll have to help you." I glare at him as fury rages in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to break down and sob. I wanted to be home, on the ship with my Killian. I wanted to be in his warm, strong arms. God, I miss him. But like I said before, I won't let this bastard see me cry; I won't give into them. Instead of bending over and picking up the soaked rag, I just stand there. The glare in my eyes grew stronger, and I let a mocking smile creep upon my lips. He will not break me. I watch the anger on his face grow. He looks over to one of his crew members. "Twitch." He says firmly. The man nods and brings out a whip. Fear begins to burn in me, but I try to fight it. My mind flashes back to James when Killian had him whipped. "Give her five on that pretty little back of hers." The next thing I know, the fiercest pain I've ever felt spreads on my back. I cry out in pain and fall to the ground. It happened again, and again, and again, and again. I lie there on the hard wood deck; I use every bit of strength not to sob. I said I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Suddenly the bucket of ice cold water is poured on top of me, taking my breath away, and burning my open wounds. The crew cheers and laughs in my ears. Through all my pain and humiliation, I look up at Fletcher, through my soaked bangs, and I force a smile. He must have thought I was crazy by the way his face twisted with anger. "Take her back to the brig!" he yells. He stomps towards me, and uses his hand to violently lift my face to his. "I'll see you in my cabin tonight, you little bitch. I will break you. You may think I can't, but I will." He hisses. I still hold my smile, and he gives my head a shove. I was grabbed by my arms and dragged back down to my disgusting cell. They toss me back on the bench and chain me back the wall. Another man came behind and threw my dress at my face; I watch it land next to me on the bench. As I sit there in pain and embarrassment, I listen to the crew members laughs as they slam the door shut. I weakly lay there; the only movement I have is one single tear rolling down my cheek.