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Unless Daddy and Master were in the mood to degrade me, in which case I couldn’t sniffle.

Yup, this was gonna get hot. The patch of fabric covering my mouth was gonna get damp too.

I flinched when I felt a finger along my spine. Or something that felt like a finger.

Be prepared.

Steady breaths.

How were they not making sounds? They must’ve taken off their shoes—but not socks—and any item that might let us know where they were. Master Walker had been wearing a nice button-down. Master Kingsley had worn jeans, same with Daddy. Fabric that definitely made sounds when rubbed together.

It was another reason the shower rooms were so popular. No creaky floors.

Come on, Noa. Break the silence.

A low chuckle sounded too close to my left ear, causing me to suck in a breath and stiffen.

“Someone’s clenching his asshole.”

Fuck. That was Master Walker.

I hadn’t intended to clench anything!

I made an effort to relax.

Also, being tense didn’t mean my asshole was clenched.

Fucker.

All of a sudden, hands gripped my arms roughly, and I was being pushed forward. My heart started pounding. I almost stumbled right there on the spot. Tate gasped—or I was fairly sure it was him. I bumped into one of them, or someone, more than once. Fucking hell, they were shuffling us around to be dicks!

I gnashed my teeth, fighter instinct kicking in. Being taunted was definitely a button of mine. I hated it. I hated it even more when it happened on fucking camera. Master was really overdoing it with photos, goddammit.

Any moment now, Daddy could trip me. It was a signature move of his when I was blindfolded.

It fucking bothered me that they didn’t say anything. They manhandled us around—until my hip hit what I assumed was one of the benches. And when had KC given Noa a gag order?

Ouch!

I screwed my eyes shut as two sets of hands and arms lifted me off the ground and dumped me on the bench⁠—

“Fuck!”

That was Noa. At long last. His voice was gritty with pain.

“Turn around, all of you!” Daddy barked out, voice echoing across the room. “On your fucking stomachs!”

Jesus Christ!

Pulse going through the roof, I scrambled to turn over on the bench, and the moment I gripped the edges, shock tore through me when ice-cold water hit me. It was the most bizarre feeling. Not as sharp as it would have been if I’d been naked, but still enough to push me into an ocean of anger and fear. Because what it boiled down to was—the four of us didn’t merely have masochistic tendencies. We wanted extreme pain, or we got off on suffering for our Owners. Or a combination of both. This was gonna fucking hurt, and we’d get no warning.

The cold water pelted down on us, and I was soaked through in seconds.

Shit. I didn’t like the feeling of the water running toward my mouth, drenching the fabric I was fucking breathing through. That was gonna mess with my head really damn quick.

“Motherfuck!” I choked out, fiery pain spreading across my ass.

“No sounds!” Daddy—no, Master—snapped. Daddy was usually the one doling out physical pain, but Master’s voice was unmistakable. He had a hint less gravel.