"Oh god," I think in my head behind my gagged mouth and atop my bound neck, "the third compartment is nearly full..." He shuts off the water, I know what's coming. The test strip confirms, and he mockingly reads it to me, holding it in my face, "Three hundred and sixty nine parts per million, should be almost enough to clean you out, you filthy slut." He grabs me by the collar to haul me off the floor, I try not to fight back because it always makes it harder to hold my breath for the twenty excruciating minutes it takes him to finish. Today he shoves me harder, my head goes under and a terrifying amount of air is forced out of me. Oh well, maybe I won't have to be conscious this time. At least he can't kill me, because we're at work and the body would be too difficult to hide. He pulls me back up, I gasp for air just as I feel him enter me. I feel all of my organs crumple between his cock and the cold, metal sink basin. "You like that?" he asks. I don't respond, whatever I say wouldn't matter anyway. "I think you still need to be cleaned," is all I hear before going back under. My breath is impossibly difficult to hold as each thrust forces it out of me in painfully large bubbles that fizzle to the surface of the solution as he fucks me into semi consciousness. Groggy, I'm lucid again, head above the surface but with him still deep inside me. He takes the roughly sawed off red hose from the wall, I relax my throat as quickly as I can before it plunges down my esophagus and the solution begins to flow, making the fresh, stinging cuts from the insertion of rough plastic throb as I'm pumped full. I try to scream around the tube, but I can already feel how full of sanitizer I am.
"You wanted me to change the sanitizer rag, huh, bitch? Guess who's the sanitizer rag now!" His strokes have reached the rhythm and pace now where I know he's close, maybe it'll be over before I legitimately drown. "Let's get you good and saturated, sanitizer fag! Say it! You're a worthless little sanitizer fag!"
"Ihhmm fuh fanififer ff-- ff- ffgghh," I manage to moan around the hose with spurts of solution spilling from the edges of my mouth. He removes the tube with one hand, and forces his other hand down my throat immediately after. Sanitizer gushes out around the thick hairs that cover his powerful arms, well muscled from years of pulling shots. I had no idea he could fit this much of them so far down my throat. He pulls out, along with a test strip that's turned a bright, blue-green. At the thought of how saturated I now am, he fills me up with his solution from behind too.
"You soak me up so well, sanitizer fag. I know you'll be back begging for more at 2pm, since you're always so fucking prompt about getting it filled up. Make sure you wipe up your mess". It's always nice for my hard work to be recognized, I guess. He walks away, leaving me limply slumped over the sink for the dishwasher to find and unbind me. I hope he doesn't want a turn today, too, but I guess that would be my job as the sanitizer fag. Maybe I am nothing more than a sanitizer fag, if he thinks I'm so good at it.
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