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" I believe one of the many colorful phrases you used downstairs was that I was "full of shit," " you remark. A whimper escapes my lips. " It would seem that you need a lesson in exactly who is full of shit," you inform me. I watch silently as you fill the bag, and hang it again from the shower curtain rod. Much higher than you normally hang it, and I am aware that this increased height will increase the force of the flow. You point to the tub, directing me to step in, and slowly my feet move in that direction. More than anything I want to run from the bathroom, away from this, but I move forward, knowing that I must, knowing that delaying now will only increase the punishment. As I step into the cold tub, your hand pushes me down to my knees again. I recall the times we've done this before, and am acutely aware of the differences, no warming of the tub, no towels to rest on, no rubbing and encouragement from you. " Get that ass up in the air," you bark, and I lean forward, burying my head against my forearms. Your hand slaps my ass, hard... the crack of skin against skin and my sudden cry seem to echo in the room. Every welt on my ass burns with the imprint of your hand. I whimper again as you insert the nozzle in my ass. " You will take all of this... without stopping... and I expect you to hold it all in," your voice sounds so stern, not at all the way you usually speak to me, and this again highlights to me the severity of this punishment, reminding me of how I got here in the first place. Another equally hard slap jolts my entire body forward. " I did not hear a response." " Yes, Master, I understand Master," I gasp, the words choked on my sobs. Almost immediately the rush of water flowing into me begins. I struggle not to cry out at the coolness... far cooler than you have ever used before. The cramping begins swiftly, and my silent sobs wrack my body. I can feel your eyes on me. I am shivering from the cold, combined with my sobs, and the pain crashes in waves through my body. The bag empties rapidly, from that height. The nozzle is jerked from me, and I try desperately to hold still. Another wave of cramping rolls through me, and I feel a flash of panic... I'm not sure I can take all this... and yet I have to... Just when I think I cannot stand another second, I feel your hand grasp my hair, and you pull my head up, but in a gentle way. You tell me I may get up, and I move slowly. When I attempt to step over the side of the tub, another wave of parape free" I believe one of the many colorful phrases you used downstairs was that I was "full of shit," " you remark. A whimper escapes my lips. " It would seem that you need a lesson in exactly who is full of shit," you inform me. I watch silently as you fill the bag, and hang it again from the shower curtain rod. Much higher than you normally hang it, and I am aware that this increased height will increase the force of the flow. You point to the tub, directing me to step in, and slowly my feet move in that direction. More than anything I want to run from the bathroom, away from this, but I move forward, knowing that I must, knowing that delaying now will only increase the punishment. As I step into the cold tub, your hand pushes me down to my knees again. I recall the times we've done this before, and am acutely aware of the differences, no warming of the tub, no towels to rest on, no rubbing and encouragement from you. " Get that ass up in the air," you bark, and I lean forward, burying my head against my forearms. Your hand slaps my ass, hard... the crack of skin against skin and my sudden cry seem to echo in the room. Every welt on my ass burns with the imprint of your hand. I whimper again as you insert the nozzle in my ass. " You will take all of this... without stopping... and I expect you to hold it all in," your voice sounds so stern, not at all the way you usually speak to me, and this again highlights to me the severity of this punishment, reminding me of how I got here in the first place. Another equally hard slap jolts my entire body forward. " I did not hear a response." " Yes, Master, I understand Master," I gasp, the words choked on my sobs. Almost immediately the rush of water flowing into me begins. I struggle not to cry out at the coolness... far cooler than you have ever used before. The cramping begins swiftly, and my silent sobs wrack my body. I can feel your eyes on me. I am shivering from the cold, combined with my sobs, and the pain crashes in waves through my body. The bag empties rapidly, from that height. The nozzle is jerked from me, and I try desperately to hold still. Another wave of cramping rolls through me, and I feel a flash of panic... I'm not sure I can take all this... and yet I have to... Just when I think I cannot stand another second, I feel your hand grasp my hair, and you pull my head up, but in a gentle way. You tell me I may get up, and I move slowly. When I attempt to step over the side of the tub, another wave of pa