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The water was icy, shocking my skin and making me gasp involuntarily. After my captor had finished cleaning me with the hose and soapy water, he proceeded to shackle my feet with heavy metal cuffs. I called out again, my voice cracking with desperation and pleading, “Please, I need to go to the bathroom!” But once again, there was no reply, no indication that anyone even heard me. But at least I was no longer chained to the ceiling. I used every ounce of skill and determination I had, focusing on the task. He snapped them onto my wrists, the cold metal biting into my skin. When he reached my tits, he lingered, squeezing and groping with a twisted smirk on his face. The wounds from the whipping were still raw and painful, and my body was weak from the lack of proper food and water. The sight of so many people, all focused on me, filled me with a dread I had never known before.