The Walk of Shame back home

You're just not cut out for travel anymore. Without food and with barely enough water, covered in crusted cum, and your clothes in tatters, you walk back the way you came. The same rolling hills and sun that you felt beckoned you to travel now seemed to laugh at you. As you entered the edge of the village once more, you are greeted by a leering village guard named Doneti, "Your father told me to look for ya, but I see yar whore arse decided to come back anyway. He's gonna wanna have words for ya."

As you walk past the local inn, the Dancing Cock, more villagers swarm around you and laugh at your state. A few of the boys you recognize from revelries had in the woods swat your ass and the village girls and women spit on you as you walk back to your home. You make the trek back to the little hut and are 'welcomed' by your brother waiting for you at the entrance. You try to look for any sign of pity, but find only a cold look in his eyes. "Whatever father decides to do with you, you're no sister of mine. At first, I was disappointed you didn't take me with you, but when I learned you stole from father I cursed you for the thief you are. Get in," he said tersely as he opened the door for you.

You walk through the same entrance you've walked all your life and you've never felt this much apprehension before. Your father was there, waiting for you, his mouth nearly invisible behind his full black-grey beard, and his dark eyes bearing the same cold look your brother had. Your mother is behind him, crying, her hazel eyes reddened by the pain she must be feeling for you. At least someone feels pity for you. Your father pulls out something you were familiar with as a child, a switch, and he grabs you, you are too weak to resist, and he starts to beat you. Across the face, across the chest, and upon your ass the switch makes its mark. Your mother grabs his arm and pulls him back from his fury. As your father starts to speak, you smell the drink off him.
"Never did I tink I'd raise a fucking thief! And a fucking slut at that!" Your father yells.
You are about to tell him what happened to you that'd you'd be in such a horrible state, but you realize he'd either not believe you or not care.
"All them boys in the village came out and told me how you slept with every fucking one of them in the woods, how'd you run out from home at night and go drinking," he continues.
Those damn liars. Only the last part of their story is true, but again your father is unlikely to listen.
"Maybe it's my fault. I didn't beat you enough when you were little, didn't teach you respect. I gotta live with that," he says.
At this point, you are ready for whatever his verdict is on your fate. As your father, he decides your every move and existence. From that you tried to run away, and here you are again.
"I should sell you out to slavers just so we'd get our money back. We might starve 'cause of your sins, and I might as well find some use for you. Your brother supports my decisions and," he is about to continue when your mother interrupts
"Leave her be, she's already done 'nough and suffered 'nough. Look at my poor baby. Spit on and jeered by the entire village. Have mercy."
Your father's cold eyes seemed to warm for a second, but will your mother's pleas be answered?