Choose Your Own Adventure Part 1
Don’t try this one at home kids. Breath play is serious stuff.
The bag hit the floor in front of his hands. “Put it on.”
His fingers relaxed and the needle fell to the floor. The cloth was smooth, light, and warm in his hands as he pulled it open and slipped it over his head. The world plunged into darkness, and he could feel his breath filling the hood.
He sensed her movements around him, picking up the needle and antiseptic. Then her boot thudded into his shoulder and he was falling, hitting the floor with a rush of disorientation and pain. The heavy sole worked its way around his body, stomping into his flesh, grinding and twisting his muscles and skin. His body twitched under it, instinctively trying to defend itself or flee, to do anything to escape the pain.
The clinical part of his mind noticed that she was avoiding his lower arms and face. She wanted to leave marks, to grind the sole of her boot into him and brand him as her property. To tear, to bruise, to change the flesh so he would remember this every time he showered. To make his body less his, and more hers.
He could feel her footsteps in the floor, stomping around him, working her way down one side of his body then up the other. There was a pause, and then the toe of her boot flicked into his balls. His hips jerked and then slapped back down into the carpet and the cold, numbing pain flashed across his balls.
She kicked him in the balls again, watching his hips jerk and his arms twitch. His body slammed itself up and down each time, a mockery of fucking, until she placed her boot on his cock and pinned him, twisting it back and forth. She could feel his body pushing back against her foot, trapped between her and the floor, bulging and straining against her.
His head was a black pool on the floor, his body an anonymous toy she could hurt and get herself off on. She bit her lower lip, mentally going over what was going to happen next one more time.
She moved her foot, and repositioned herself to sit down on his chest, pinning his arms with her knees. The plastic slipped over his hood, and she cinched it down, cutting off the flow of fresh air. It inflated suddenly, the air rushing out of his body as he realized what was happening and his body jerked under again. Then the bag deflated, and began to move slowly and regularly as he forced himself not to waste oxygen.
That was what she was waiting for, and tremors worked their way up her thighs. That moment of calm surrender, the acknowledgment that she controlled him clear down to his breathing.
She counted off seconds in her head, then opened the bottom of the bag long enough for him to take a breath, then wrenched it closed with her fist. She held it closed a few more seconds each time, forcing him to go a little further, take it a little longer. Finally, she licked her lips and started counting for the last time, holding it closed until she reached the last number, then pulling it off his face.
He could feel cool air drying the sweat on his face as she pulled the black cloth off his head. He lay under her, squinting his eyes at the sudden light with the warm rush of endorphins and adrenalin making his head warm and fuzzy.
“It’s over Navaux. You’re dead.”
He swallowed hard and grinned at her. “I’m getting better.”
She snorted and shook her head. “I should have known you couldn’t get through this without a fucking Monty Python quote.”
That’s it! End of the Choose Your Own Adventure Saga. It’s been a lot of fun, thanks for voting and commenting. I saw a lot of people who hadn’t commented before, and found out some things about reader preferences (apparently some people are very dedicated to cbt, which I’ll keep in mind in the future). Maybe I’ll do something like this again some time, but I have some real world stuff coming up that I need to build up a story buffer for, so it’s a pretty good time to end it. Ciao.
Preview: I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.