Chapter Seven
The door opens. There is the sound of rattling and clinking. There is movement proximate to my chair. A thumb and forefinger pinch my nose and force back my head. I grunt in protest. There is laughter and a plastic straw is thrust into my mouth. Water flows and I know to either drink or choke. I drink. I have no choice. So many lessons from my sojourn in Thailand return. I am human putty, a pile of flesh to be tended to as women choose. There is no resistance which cannot be subdued, and in the subduing there will be pain and much humiliation.
Yes, being watered comes with the system of four point restraint. According to the British nurse it assures that the body does not go into shock and entirely shut down. And I know soon my bladder will fill and messages of urgency wil
