Breath
 
 Copyright 2002 by silli_artie at hotmail dot com 
 
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior express written permission of 
the author. 
 
A work of fiction, meant for adults.  Read something else if you are not an adult, or are offended 
by stories with sexual content.  Then again, if all you're looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you 
should probably read something else.  I welcome constructive comments.  Enjoy.

	I sent an e-mail to my Mistress this morning, telling her about a new turtleneck shirt I 
was wearing.  It's soft, and I love the feel of the fabric against my skin, especially the way it 
caresses me as I move.  The part I really like, though, took me a while to figure out.  The neck is 
tight, but as soon as I put it on, I liked it.  I liked it a lot.

	When I wrote my Mistress, I told her the tightness around my neck reminded me of the 
way she tightens her hands around my neck as we make love.

	She replied a little while ago:

------------------------------------ 
I love watching your eyes as my hands circle your neck and gradually tighten. 
 
Because it's such a taboo subject, and because of the real dangers involved 
it's hard for me to express how excited I get guiding you through a breath 
control experience.  There is almost no erotica out there on the subject 
(aside from some erotic hanging stories of which the vast majority are of the 
snuff genre (no thank you)). 

I can think of nothing that signifies submission and trust more than that of a 
Mistress and her subbie sharing this type of play. 
 
It's that intense. 
 
Thank you dear for the images.... 
 
Love, 
Jean 
------------------------------------

	Her response got me thinking (and remembering).  I've written a little about it before, the 
way she holds me and squeezes me.

	I must say, though, that I still have a hard time with the word "submissive."  Yes, I trust 
her completely.  And I give myself to her completely, for her pleasure, and for mine.  The 
Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it in terms of yielding or permitting -- and I don't do that.  I 
give myself, completely, joyfully.  And I am glad she doesn't go for snuff stories...

	But how did we start on this path?

	I remember a Saturday afternoon, so quiet from the snow falling outside, the room filled 
with the sounds of our lovemaking.  She was on top of me, rocking slowly the way we both love.  
Her hands were on my shoulders, pressing me back into the bed, and keeping me away from the 
breasts I need so much.

	There was something I wanted, something I needed -- I moved her hands from my 
shoulders to my neck.

	And as I did, she smiled more.  "Is this what you want, my love?" she whispered to me as 
her fingers circled my neck and tightened.

	And oh the sensations!  It was so intense as her hips rocked on top of mine and her 
fingers tightened around my neck.  My eyes started to close, but she told me to keep them open, 
to keep looking in her eyes, something else we love dearly.  And as she rocked, squeezed, and 
spoke, I came with a suddenness and intensity that surprised us both.  Afterwards we held each 
other, and she nestled me back into the place I love, feeling and hearing her heart beat.

	We didn't talk about it afterwards, but it worked its way in to our lovemaking....  I 
remember a night, she was on her back with me sitting up, my knees gripping her hips as I 
impaled her and pleasured her button with a thumb....  She came again, and wrapped her legs 
around my torso, squeezing, (stolen from silli artie at hotmail dot com) helping me slide in and out of her.  I love being squeezed -- the way 
she squeezes my head between her thighs when I go down on her, the way it muffles and 
amplifies her animal sounds at the same time.

	But this time, feeling her legs squeeze me, I moved her legs up so her calves were on my 
shoulders.  I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pounded into her.  As I got close to the 
edge, she did it -- I think she must have crossed her legs behind me, the way she does when I go 
down on her and she doesn't want me getting away.  I was getting close, and suddenly I felt her 
calves squeezing my neck, squeezing oh so well.

	I know she could feel what that did to me -- filling me with fire, making me pound into 
her all the more, holding on to her legs and squeezing her, feeling her legs squeeze my neck, then 
holding on to her legs as I came deep inside her, holding on and then collapsing on top of her as 
she released me.

	Once again we nestled together, our hearts beating fast.

	She has other ways, sly ways as well.  Occasionally when we kiss, she'll cover my mouth 
completely with hers, and block my nose with her cheek or with a hand.  She's learned she has to 
be holding me when she does that, as I let go to her completely.  She holds me, and holds me, 
until finally she breathes into me.  She did that to me at a party a while back.  When she sat up, 
she had such a look of triumph on her face.

	My favorite still is being held between her breasts.  She has a way of holding me, 
surrounding me, enveloping me in her breasts.  I'm filled with sensation -- her softness, her 
warmth, the sound and feeling of her heart beating so close.  My eyes close and the world fades 
away.  She squeezes me, and the world disappears -- only she exists.

	She'll squeeze me, smothering me with her breasts.  I can't breathe, and when I'm 
enveloped in her, I don't care.  But my body responds and she lets me go to gasp in air, only to 
fill my mouth with her softness again.

	I think I see a pattern now.  I hope it's her way of intensifying things for both of us.  She 
seems to do special things to me during her period, when I get so horny for her.  A few times 
now she's trapped me between her breasts, smothering me, and at the same time stroking me to 
delirium.  She calls the results "spectacular."  I don't have words for what happens to me when 
she does that.

	A few weeks ago, she'd been away for a few days, and when she returned, she was in the 
middle of her period.  I needed her so much.  She had me undress and get on the bed.  She put on 
our favorite velvet dress, climbed on top of me, and held me to her perfumed bosom, enveloping 
me in her softness and the dress until I'd melted in her arms.  Then she pushed me to my back 
and moved on top of me.  She's so good at getting me so hot and hard for her, yet so relaxed I'm 
barely able to move.  Her fingers slid up my body and around my neck as she rocked on top of 
me.  Rocking, whispering, squeezing, holding my eyes in hers -- her smile triumphant as I came 
under her and she throttled out my moaning cry.  She rocked and squeezed until my ears started 
to buzz and my eyes closed.  Her lips met mine and she breathed life into me again.

	Oh Mistress -- you thank me for my images, yet you've given me so much, much more.  
And what do I have to give you?  Only my words, and myself.

Fin  
Rev 2/2/2002
 
Breath  
By silli_artie at hotmail dot com  
http://www.asstr.org/~artie 

Soft and Deep
 silli_artie at hotmail dot com 	3	http://www.asstr.org/~artie 
