Breath Control Pt. 02byLaz110©
3. The Capture
She led him towards a section of the bookcase, pressed a false book and a hidden section of the bookcase revealed itself to be a doorway, now opened. You’d never have know it was there until you’d seen it with your own eyes, he thought, swallowing hard.
Now he was beginning to feel frightened, but it was a good fear. His cock began to harden just the way it always did in these situations. He’d hoped she’d relieve him but if not he’d have to do it himself.
She clicked on a light and led him down a steep stairway into a basement. She unlocked one of the three doors. This one was the strongest, more like a solid prison door.
She drained the last contents of the water. ‘Come through,’ she said.
He gasped as she switched on the red-bulbed lights. The room was completely tiled in white; the walls, floor and ceiling. One side had an X cross secured to the wall, with chains for ankles and wrists. Restraining chains and a hoist hung from the ceiling. A low steel table stood in the centre with leather restraints at each corner. At one end, which he guessed the victim’s head went, the metal narrowed into an extended spoon shape, the same width as a neck and indented to accept the back of the head. Beside it stood a large round glass tank. The cylinder-shaped tank had two pipes anchored into it.
Against one wall on the floor a thin mattress lay, with a toilet next to it. There was also a tall cupboard against the far wall. There was a clock on a wall but there were no windows, only a large mirror fixed into another wall. He saw his own reflection looking back at him, with apprehension fused into his eyes.
‘Undress,’ she commanded, closing the door with a slam. It was solid steel.
‘Everything?’ he asked nervously.
‘Just down to your pants,’ she said firmly. Her voice had taken on a sternness that hadn’t been there before. ‘Then lie face-up on the table’.
Obediently he stripped. Now he felt totally vulnerable. Shaking, partly from trepidation and partly from anticipation he positioned himself onto his back on the table. The metal felt cold against his skin.
‘Your head this end,’ she commanded.
He lay with the back of his head fitting neatly into a moulded indentation.
‘Good,’ she said, first strapping in his wrists, then his ankles.
‘How do you like being suffocated? Do you like mild, medium or hard?’ She enquired. Now she was smirking.
4. The Nightmare Begins
‘I don’t like it too hard,’ he replied, so excited his breathing came in short pants. ‘Also can we have a safe word.’
She paused for a moment. ‘A safe word, of course,’ she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. ‘Let us say ‘mercy’ is your safe word. Is that okay?’
He nodded and she smiled down at her completely immobilised captive.
Pulling at her skirt she deftly pulled it off, revealing white panties and long muscular legs. Swinging her leg over his midriff she sat down on him, her legs dangling over the sides.
‘Just one more little thing,’ she breathed. Leaning over his face, she pulled out another strap across his forehead and secured his head from any movement.
‘That’s better,’ she smiled. ‘Now we can begin.’
Slowly and methodically she slowly pulled on a pair of elbow-length black kid leather gloves, watching him growing increasingly disturbed. All of a sudden her hands came down onto his face touching it all over gently. A glazed look seemed to befall her as she cupped one hand across his mouth and the other pinched his nostrils together.
‘Your name is Carlos, yes?’ she asked.
Knowing he couldn’t reply she continued: ‘And Carlos in Hebrew means free man.’
She shifted slightly, making herself more comfortable sitting on his stomach. She remained suffocating him, not allowing any breath at all.
‘But you’re not now, are you?’ she continued. ‘So I am going to rename you.’
His eyes began to roll as if he wanted to let her know he was reaching his limit. Still she kept him smothering.
‘Amongst my many hobbies I have an interest in the meaning of names,’ she went on, smiling down at him. ‘For instance my name is Katsue which means blessed with victory in Japanese.’
He began to make urgent noises at the back of his throat to let her know he was really suffering now. Yet still she kept him suffocating.
‘I have decided to call you Abel,’ she giggled. ‘Do you know what that means?’
She suddenly let go and smiled as he gasped in deep breaths for only a few seconds before clamping her hands over his nose and mouth again before he had a chance to say anything.
‘Is that too hard for you?’ she sneeringly asked.
He blinked his eyes. He didn’t like being smothered that much. This isn’t what he wanted. Not like this.
‘Good,’ she sniggered. ‘Then you should say your safe word next time.’
She bounced on his stomach forcing out some of his air between her fingers. She remained clamping him with an airtight seal.
‘Yes I have decided to call you Abel because that means breath in Hebrew,’ she sniggered.
His face was going very red and his eyes began to bulge. She released him and got off.
‘M…e…r…c…y…’ he gasped. She giggled at his torturous inhalations.
She returned with a ball gag, strapping it tightly into his mouth. He could now only try to regain his breath through his wheezing nostrils.
‘I have no mercy, Abel,’ she said in a husky voice, ‘No mercy, none at all. The more you suffer the more I shall enjoy myself.’ She smirked down at his pleading eyes. ‘I know you didn’t want it as hard as this, did you?’
She cruelly and deliberately bounced on his stomach to expel any air forcibly out of his nose, and then swiftly pinched his nostrils together.
Unable to move a muscle, he blinked his eyes by way of telling her he wasn’t enjoying it.
‘Life is a bitch, sometimes, isn’t it?’ she asked, with a smile. ‘We can’t all have want we want, Breath… That’s it, that’s your new name, Breath.’ She smirked, wriggling on his helpless, suffocating body.
Grinning broadly down at his agonised expression, she carefully placed a nose pincher over his nostrils before he had a chance to inhale, squeezing them together.
‘Mmmhhhhh,’ she sighed, satisfied with her handiwork, resting her hands on his chest with all her weight. ‘I’ve got you exactly where I want you, and Breath, boy are you going to suffer.’
She giggled at his pleading, smothered groans. ‘And there’s absolutely no escape. There is no one coming to help you.’
His lungs were screaming for air. This was the worst he’d ever experienced by being smothered. And by the look in her face he knew things were going to get worse.
Her face came down close to his so she could look deep into his agonised eyes, to be able to see the torment he was undergoing for her benefit.
‘I bet you hadn’t counted on this,’ she sniggered. Her eyes looked excited and so alive.
This wasn’t what he wanted, not like this. If he knew it was going to be a sadistic as this he’d have never have come here. He just wanted her to finish her session and let him go.
He pleaded with bulging eyes for some respite but she merely smiled down at his imploring eyes, loving the suffering she was imposing.
‘I simply adore suffocating people,’ she breathed. Her breathing was low and deep and her eyes glistened with pleasure.
Touching his nose, she slowly moved the nose pincers up slightly to allow his nostrils a miniscule of relief to let him try and suck some oxygen into his body.
‘I have studied my pleasure for many years,’ she smirked. ‘And let me tell you I know more about suffocation than anyone,’
A shiver of fear ran down the back of his neck as realisation of what he had really let himself in for began to sink in.
‘I am in complete control of you now,’ she sneeringly told him. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life. You are going to live here from now on. There is no escape.’
He wriggled his agony-wrecked body as much as he could, his mind overtaken by instinct.
Her smiling face peered down at her suffocating victim. He looked into her eyes for any signs of compassion or mercy. There was none. Only a gloating and excited Asian female stared back at him.
’Your breathing is now my only concern with you,’ she told him, studying the pain in his face. ‘I’m going to control your breathing whenever you are in my presence,’ she breathed, huskily.
She knew exactly what she was doing, he thought. She is an expert at this.
His eyes misty, from the torture, began to roll. His entire body screamed out for air in this living hell.
‘What do you do, Breath?’ she giggled, wriggling her bottom on his tormented body. ’How do you wake up from a nightmare, when you're not asleep?’
In the corners of his brain he could see sparks flying and his lungs told him he was going…
From behind the two-way mirror, unknown to their captive, Mr Tanaka watched his wife smother-torturing their latest victim. At first he had found it strange for a woman, such as his wife, to enjoy inflicting suffering onto another living person by suffocating them with such a vengeance. But once he came to accept it he discovered a new voyeuristic pleasure had formed in his psyche. He had found out several years after marrying her that she derived great pleasure from inflicting suffocation on people. Now it was one of their ‘little pleasures’ that they both thoroughly enjoyed.
He smiled as he watched the man being smothered into unconsciousness, loving the look of utter delight on Katsue’s beautiful face. She is an absolute treasure, he mused, the familiar sensations beginning to make him harden at the thought of what was to come. They always had the most satisfying sex after a smother-torture session. It could sometimes last long into the night.
Over the course of the torture duration, running into almost three hours, Breath’s face had turned from red, to blue, and now for the first time it was becoming purple. The pleasure shone out from Katsue’s face as his eyes began to slowly close. She was sending him into oblivion and she thoroughly enjoyed doing so.
Mr Tanaka leaned forward in his comfortable chair, poured himself a measure of malt whisky, and perched on the edge of his seat in anticipation of what was coming next.