Morning bath

Aaron's senses jolted awake to the sensation of a rough hand shaking him, violently pulling him from the depths of sleep. Disoriented and disheveled, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings as his bleary eyes adjusted to the dim light of the slave quarters.

Standing over him was a servant, their expression twisted into a sneer of contempt. Aaron's heart sank as he recognized the cruel visage, a harbinger of the degrading act to come. Without a word, the servant's calloused hands reached for a nearby bucket, its contents murky and foul-smelling.

Aaron's muscles tensed in anticipation as he watched the servant lift the bucket, the weight of impending humiliation heavy in the air. With a swift motion, the servant upended the bucket, unleashing a cascade of icy water that drenched Aaron from head to toe.

The shock of the cold liquid stole Aaron's breath, sending a shiver coursing through his trembling frame. He gasped for air, his heart hammering in his chest as he struggled to comprehend the depths of his degradation.

As the water soaked through his clothing, clinging to his skin like a mark of shame, Aaron felt a surge of humiliation wash over him. He wanted to scream, to lash out against the injustice of his torment, but he knew that resistance would only invite further punishment.

With a mocking laugh, the servant turned and sauntered away, leaving Aaron shivering and humiliated in their wake. Another servant mentioned that his younger twin roan wants to meet him