When I first started exploring my submissiveness, I took an online course from the Powerotics Training Academy (which is no longer in existence as far as I know). One of the assignments was to look at various pictures – mostly of woman in bondage positions – and share my reactions to each.
Doing that assignment, I learned (and Master learned) that I had this fear of not being able to breathe. I had the strongest reactions to those pictures that showed the women with their mouths covered. At the time, it seemed that breath play might be a hard limit.
Over the past several months, I’ve had the experience of having my face buried in Master’s chest while he is fucking me. I just started naturally pressing my face against his flesh, creating the sensation of my breath being cut off for a moment. Master noticed this one day and noted the shift in my desire. It’s something that has just been incorporated as harmony to our usual, sexual melody.
Lately, though, I’ve really wanted Him to smother me…to have that sensation of not being able to breath for more than a moment. In fact, I asked Him today, “Please smother me and tell me when to cum.”
He commented, “I thought you didn’t like breath play,” with that devilish smile on His face. Without further words, He covered my mouth and nose…and made me cum.
My perspective on breath play is indeed very different now, although I’m not sure it is a newfound interest in breath play in and of itself. I certainly like that sensation of not being able to breathe for a moment (or two or three), but more than anything I like the idea and the feeling of being at His mercy.
In an attempt to control the world around them, most people will hold their breath (and make it very shallow). I know that for me I definitely hold my breath when I am trying to hold back saying something (anger, hurt, sadness, etc.). It’s not a conscious decision, but certainly a reaction borne of not trusting how life is unfolding in that particular moment.
When I think of Him controlling my breath I start to feel a deeper sense of surrender. In a moment like that, I don’t get to decide anything. There is no stop along the way in my brain where I think, “He told me to do something, now I am going to do it.” It’s controlling me at the most basic, survival level.
I close my eyes, and I imagine Him grabbing my throat to strangle me. I look up into His eyes with a “take me, I’m willing” look. He squeezes until I cannot breathe. Instead of panic overtaking me, I imagine trust flowing from me. I will breathe again…at the moment of His choosing.