Later, they called me "lazy." Amir pulled me from the cage, weak and trembling, wielding a leather whip. Hands tied to the bar, feet off the ground, he struck - ten burning lashes across my back. "Thieves learn pain," he said. Naree laughed, "Be good now." Gagged with pantyhose and yoga pants, my screams died. Nightly, if I faltered, they'd whip me - quick, sharp, tears falling. I obeyed fast, terrified.