I don't know why, but I've always struggled with it. I don't suppose things are the same now, but when I went to the little village school, if you got...behind you didn't get extra help, you seemed to get less. And I'm sure you were told during your teacher training that people who can't read develop all sorts of strategies for coping ... I happen to have a really good memory." ... Yes, you need one for all those funny Latin plant names..." Bea interjected."I told you that I spent lots of time. "There are 14 masters in the gang I escaped from. I have seen bigger gangs from a distance, but we always hid from them. We only attacked small groups or single people that we might find."There were 17 female slaves when I ran away. I was number 13 and way down on the list of importance. I was never used for anything but sex, but the older slaves also did the usual sort of household jobs. Oh, I would run errands sometimes, but mostly my job was to be available whenever one of the masters wanted. ”“Get up, wimp. Or we’ll kick your balls even harder.”Hands gripped Craig by the shoulders and attempted to left him, but he was so devastated by the kicks that he had no strength left.“All right. Get up on your hands and knees at least.”Craig obeyed.He felt a pair of legs lock around his head. Someone pulled his knees apart.Then another woman slammed her foot into his sagging balls. Craig felt the arch of her foot blast into his testicles and he felt her toes stab into his cock. The legs. Frank knelt in front of the girl placing the bag of groceries against the tree stump. He shook his head, “I told you not to run,” he muttered as he examined the deep gash that ran horizontally across his daughter’s knee. Clarissa tried not to sob, but it was no use and her face was soon a river of tears. “Shit!” Clarissa whimpered, angry at her own bad luck, “it really bloody hurts.” Frank smiled and picked some dirt from the bloody wound before moving her knee to the left in order to check.