i suppose this is still a reindeer game. But, this is the flashback i had last night.
i am laying in the pink bathtub. my arms are tied behind me and i'm laying on them. They are numb and don't even hurt anymore. i know i've been laying there a long time. If i tip my head as far back as it will go, i can get a glimpse of the sink. He isn't there yet. There is no bag. There is no hose. Strangely this isn't comforting... i know it doesn't mean anything. i pray half heartedly. i stopped believing in these prayers a long time ago. But, there is nothing else to do. When the door opens and he comes in with the water hose, i can only feel a numb kind of hopeless dread. i stop praying to be saved. Silently i begin to pray to die somehow. Just let it be done with this time. And, i think i will not fight this time. Let it end. i hear him behind me screwing the waterhose onto the pipe under the sink. And, then he is standing over me with the hose. "I told you, you weren't getting any water yesterday. Why did you ask your Granny for water?" There is no answer. The truth, that it was hotter than hell and i was so thirsty i thought i would die... that is not going to help my case. The answer to that, is if he wants me to die, i will. i know that. i had known better. i apologize. i know it won't help, but i don't know what else to say. "Well, you want water, let me give you some, cunt." He is scarily calm. No rage. His expression is that of a man doing some ordinary chore. Like cutting the grass. He cut the water on, and the hose started to drip. i knew when he depressed the trigger, it would come out in a torrent. And, then he is standing over me, the hose blasting water into my face. The pressure stings my face and i gag and choke as it finds its way into my nose and mouth. my resolve not to struggle melts, and i thrash, seeking air and finding only water. i gag, choke, thrash. The world goes grey. There is nothing but water. i am coughing up water. And, i feel myself starting to loose the battle. As, i begin to resign myself to the end... he stops. There is no real relief. i gag. i sputter and puke. my nose is clogged and my thoat on fire. The skin of my face and neck and upper body is on fire. He lets me gasp a few minutes then, asks "Still thirsty?" And, we begin again. Over and over. It seems hours pass as i struggle and choke and puke and scream and cry. Hours, days, years, an eternity. Will i never die? Eventually i no longer look forward to the hose stopping. i curse its stopping. Finish it. And, finally, i am able to stop fighting. i lay immobile gazing up at him through the haze of water, with dull acceptance as he plays at drowning me. At that point he quickly tires of his game. He cuts the water off. His cock is rock hard. He pulls it out and strokes it and cums into my face. When he walks out the bathroom door i lay in the tub, covered in puke and snot and cum. Struggling to breathe. And, more than i hate him... i hate me... why couldn't i just die?
