Let me share something with you…
I was told after surgery to not eat anything within 2 hours before laying down, because of the risk of suffocation. I was always warned to stay away from bread not simply because of the simple carbs and sugar content, but because bread expands and can get trapped in the esophagus, putting pressure on the windpipe. So… I was craving cheesy garlic bread the other night and I made some. Ate it, delightfully. Yum. Licked my fingers. Got tired. Went to bed less than 30 minutes later.
I almost died.
The first time, I woke up feeling like a hand was around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I spit up a bit, tried to take deep breaths but couldn’t. I shot up in bed, coughing as the tears formed in my eyes. It was dark so I could barely see anything untouched by the moonlight. I became terrified, but focused. Leaned forward and said a silent prayer. I then drew in breath and felt relieved. I was half-sleep so I didn’t fully process what happened. I fluffed my pillows up a bit and lay back down.
The second time, about an hour later, similar feelings and thoughts of my son and survival came to me. It was that intense. I blamed myself, realizing why it was happening, and just prayed I would make it through the night.
The third time, it felt like someone was sitting on my chest, hands gripped around my throat. It was so bad that I made myself throw up and went to sit propped up on the couch. I was terrified of laying down again. I felt better, but didn’t want to take any risks. For the rest of the night, everything went smoothly.
When I woke up, for real, in the morning… I felt odd. I was devastatingly horny. Like… I was dripping…squirming…sheet-grabbing…horny as all get out. I was panting almost and thought to grab my vibrator and relieve myself… but I didn’t. I wanted to revel in it a bit and process it. The more I thought about it, the more I realize it was because of what I’d experienced the night before.
Background: My primary kinky fetish is erotic asphyxiation. I find pleasure in having my breath restricted and until now, I’d only experienced this type of physical response to it willingly. It’s always been at the hands of a sexual partner with whom I’d made an agreement to explore this kink and engage in the act of erotic asphyxiation. Until now, there was always comfort in knowing that there was control there and that I would not die. Even one time when I almost went unconscious (while experiencing THE most intense orgasm ever in life), I knew that I wasn’t going to die. There is comfort in knowing that and that comfort allows me to revel in the sexual enjoyment of it.
This time was different though. I could have died. This was happening against my will and there was nothing pleasurable about it as it happened. I was terrified that I wouldn’t wake up again in the morning…and yet, when I did, I was insanely aroused.
So, it marked a new development in my understanding of my kink. It made me realized that it isn’t solely about the combination of a strong Dominant’s hands cutting off my air supply in skilled, orgasm-inducing ways. Rather, it’s the actual loss of air itself, by any means, that seems to ignite the sexual arousal. This made me think of any other times when I’d found myself struggling to breathe and the subsequent effects. I thought about the last time I went running (which I’m still new to) and ended up sprinting so fast and hard that I couldn’t breathe and ended up throwing up. I went home after that and masturbated. Whoa. Revelation! Fascinating and terrifying at the same time! Then I thought about how horny I’d get after swimming, which requires me to hold my breath repeatedly for extensive periods of time. Man… Mind. Blown.
I discussed it with my friends and through the laughs, they started throwing out ideas about how I could “get a nut”. One friend said maybe I need to have someone sit on my chest instead of simply choking me with His hands. Maybe. Or maybe I need to have heavy items compressing my chest. Maybe. I’m sure that when I find myself partnered up with a new Dominant who is into this same kink, I’ll be able to explore the possibilities and delve deeper into the kink.
One thing stood out for me and it was the sense of relief I felt throughout the entire process. There was the relief if surviving, being alive. There was the relief of coming to a deeper understanding of my kink and making important connections. And there was the relief of feeling comfortable enough with the people in my life to be able to share this without feeling judged. I felt relieved and free. There was freedom in this discovery and in this sharing of it.
This is who I am, despite any of my previous efforts to deny it. This is my compulsion. This is my truth.
I will continue to live in it.