The warm, heavy spray of the water was the only thing I could feel besides the Shaman’s rough hands. I was pinned against the smooth stone of the tub, my legs spread wide, and the world was nothing but steam and his voice.
He didn't just touch me; he scoured me. His large, calloused hand moved between my thighs, rubbing the thick, herbal soap into my most sensitive skin. It wasn't gentle. It was a rhythmic, aggressive scrubbing that felt like he was trying to peel away my very soul.
"I am washing away the touch of the unworthy," the Shaman rumbled, his voice vibrating through my back. "Every trace of the boys who laid hands on you. Every drop of their filth that you let stay in your skin. The spirits demand a clean vessel, Jenna. Do you feel the rot leaving you?"
"Ahhh! Yes! Master! Ple
