I was standing in the bathroom at work this morning looking in the mirror and considering the mysterious red nicks encircling my neck. I would have been more concerned about them but, seriously, nobody in their right mind at my ultra-conservative investment bank would have guessed what He and I were up to last night. I was still a little bit dazed from it. Dazed in that way you are when know you’ve just come out the other end of an epic experience and your brain hasn’t quite processed it yet.
There I was, naked and unafraid and on my back on His immaculate living room floor. He wasn’t doing it to intimidate or frighten me because He already knows how deep my trust in Him runs. He was doing it because He knew that’s what I craved from Him. The purest form of Domination. My literal life force in His hands in the form of a leather belt wrapped carefully around my neck. It’s the biggest gift I knew how to give to Him; my breath, my very existence, all within His command.
We had entertained the idea briefly via email earlier in the week. Breath play. It’s all so dramatic and visceral, and a particularly compelling visual as we noted while we were passing images back and forth, discussing which ones appealed to us and why. Our appreciation for the captured image being something we share in earnest. “This one’s elegant…..this one’s hot because it includes breast torture….this one’s a little rough but I like…” It was a nice way to initiate the fantasy. A neutral space, full of visuals and color commentary. A precursor to the reality that was last night. I was ready, we were ready, to take it to that level.
I had already been in His apartment for nearly 24 hours. We alternated between casually watching golf while I massaged His feet, to Him presenting me with delightful little mini-meals crafted with creativity and care, to Him drawing whimsical design patterns on my breasts with a Sharpie after torturing the shit out of my nipples, to me worshipping His gorgeous cock and lovingly licking his ass which we now joke of as being my new superpower, to having deep discussions about the gradual strengthening of our relationship, to that spot on the floor, in that moment, when He took my breath away.
We started slowly. Just a few seconds at a time, testing the waters. We were communicating purely through eye contact, connected at a primal level. Then the duration and intensity increased, climbing the ladder right to the top edge of how far we thought we could push it. He was in control but we were in this together. A team. I like pushing my limits for Him. It’s one of the ways I express my devotion, seeking to make Him proud by making my best effort to please. I pushed the last session right to the brink, tapping His leg as a quit signal as my heart rate slowed, my eyes began to roll back, and the room darkened.
I felt everything and nothing at the same time. The world was spinning as the oxygen rushed its way back into my lungs. I was at once weak and powerful. I had done it….we had done it…and the hands that had just choked me up to the edge of consciousness were now caressing my hair and saying “Good girl” as I recovered, floaty and peaceful, back into the world, back to Him.