Water So Hot It Makes You Dance

So I wrote this a while back, during vacation I think, Christmas Day actually, at 20:51.

Kindly read and let me know what you think in the comments. Thank you. It’s a bit long tho.😀😀

Monday, 25 December 2017
20:51

“

Ama stares at her mother, slightly annoyed. She’d had a very terrible day and just when she thought she could
end her misery by going to bed early, here comes her mom to ruin it for her.

“No child of mine, female especially, will go to bed without their evening bath!” she yells, not so articulately, but you get the picture.
Ama lazily gallops to the bathroom, when her mother yells at her to go and pour the hot water sizzling on the coalpot fire at the backyard, to bath. “I heated it specially for you,” she says.
Ama walks to the backyard with her bucket in hand when she realises she’s in trouble. Apparently, her mom had put the pot of water on the fire long before Ama had decided to sleep, in hopes she’d bath it before sleeping. Ama notices the water is in a pseudo-boiling phase, as little bubbles have begun to emerge, in increasing quantity, and rise to the top in increasing frequency.

Wisps of vapour curl tightly off the surface and Ama is relieved she’d gotten to the water before it reached a full boil. She decides to pour half of it for herself and almost gets away with it when her mom appears from nowhere and beckons her to pour it all. “I heated it for you alone, and since everyone else has bathed already, it wouldn’t make sense to leave some on the fire and let it go to waste,” she tries. Reluctantly, Ama (her mom actually) pours the remaining half of the searing hot water into her bucket.

Ama then walks towards the bathroom with a sense of impending doom. Her little brother, Kojo, snickers as she passes him by, “You’re going to be in hot waters,” he teases. She bites back a cuss as she bravely ventures towards the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, she places the bucket of hot water under the tap and leaves the water running as she goes to her room to change into her bathrobe.

She finds herself drawn to sit on her bed and begins to doze off when she hears her mom yelling in the bathroom, she can make out words like ‘water bills’ and ‘working hard’ as she rushes out.
“Ama, why are you wasting the water!” She makes her way to the bathroom to see that the bucket is running over. “Hopefully, some of the hot water has run off with it,” she thinks to herself.

Her mom stares at her, bewildered. She beckons, no, forces Ama into the bathroom and makes sure her daughter starts bathing before she leaves.
Ama can feel the heat emanating from the water even before she places the pail in the water to fetch some and pour on herself. She wonders whether to skip her regular bath house routine for this night, which involves pouring about 3 pails of water over her body before she wets her sponge and starts to rub the soap. She decides not to skip it, and begins to dip the pail into the bucket.

The moment her skin makes contact with the water, all her senses are awakened as she bites back a scream. She’d underestimated the temperature of the water, and she looks on in disbelief.
What is she to do now? She has already committed and there’s no way back now. She feels like a chicken that has been feathered and is now about to be plunged in boiling water, except that she’s been left alive to feel the agony.
What to do? What to do? She decides to pour about three pails of water away and run the tap to replace it. She takes extra care not to make skin contact with the hot water, and is successful. She tests the water with her right index finger and is pleased with her work. Now she takes a pail of the slightly cooled water and lets it loose over her body.
“Ayeesh!” she screams silently and winces, her body moving all over, like in some sordid trance-dance state. She begins to laugh, realising her mistake.

She decides to try another pail of water. “Woo!” she caws delightedly, dancing all over to some unheard rhythm as the water dissipates all over her body, burning her flesh but eliciting waves of pleasure all over and at the same time.
She begins to feel some release as she remembers her horrible day. She’s laughing now, something she hadn’t done all day.

Shaking her head, she remembers what Eric had told her earlier that morning, coldly and calmly, with no emotion in his eyes, as she excitedly and heatedly rubs soap on her warm sponge dripping wet with hot water.

How he’d not sounded remorseful as he told her how he’d betrayed her and broken his virginity with her close friend, Agatha, the previous night at a party. How he’d broken their promise to each other to preserve themselves for each other and have a sex-free relationship until marriage, and how he’d sounded like it wasn’t a big deal. She’d shed a quiet tear that morning as she’d told him she was willing to forgive him even though it’d be hard and take some time.

How she’d wanted him to sound sorry, yet she couldn’t perceive even the slightest trace of contrition in his voice. He’d said he didn’t want her forgiveness, who was she to judge him?

How he’d decided he liked Agatha and would continue to have sex with her, and didn’t care for the consequences. Her heart had broken into two asymmetrical pieces at that instant, and when he’d said he didn’t even want to stay friends with her, the pieces had shattered and disseminated in her, a large piece lodged in her throat.
She’d choked on her tears and had wished for the slightest instant, that the shaking she felt was the earth quaking to swallow her up. How could he? After all they’d been through, five years together!
Ama realises she’s rubbed on too much soap on her sponge and it had become a white fluffy mess. Her reminiscing had gone on too long, she thought. She was ready now to lather her body with her sponge. But first, some more hot water to dance to. This time it seemed the water had cooled just the slightest bit, so she didn’t feel the heat as intensely as she did the first time, but she still danced nonetheless, the slightly decreased heat twisting her body to some unsung tune, reminiscent of a chorea.

She laughs at her own personal choreography as she brings the sponge into contact with her skin.
“

So there you have it. I really do hope you enjoyed it.