Do You Love Me?

“Do you love me?” I whispered in her ear, letting my breath carry the words gently and warm her neck.

“Yes…” She was not struggling against the straps that held her to the chair. Her eyes closed and her head tilted slightly, as if to give my question more access to the bare flesh of her neck.

My own long hair slid across her skin, where goose bumps appeared and then faded. As I slowly moved around behind her I let my breasts brush against her upper arm, first my left… then my right. I wore no bra and I sensed her warmth and imagined that my nipples grew hard just at that moment.

Positioning myself behind her, I lowered my face so that it was next to hers. We both looked forward into a mirror that sat in front of the chair, she looking into my eyes, as I looked into hers. Her legs were strapped to the chair legs, slightly apart. The light skirt she wore revealed smooth thighs (though no more).

Casually, my left hand slid across her shoulder until it cupped her throat, feeling the bare flesh there and squeezing slightly to feel the blood pump through arteries to feed her brain. She did not flinch. After a moment my hand slid down from her neck to her chest, and then under her top as I felt cleavage give way to the softness of breasts. Down my fingertips felt, crawling under the cloth and finding the perfect underside of the sphere until my hand cupped and lifted her right breast. My index finger slid up and played with her nipple, which was hard, waiting for me.

She gasped slightly at the stimulation, and shifted position in the chair, her body feeling the impulse to respond. She couldn’t, which was the way we both wanted it. My right hand slid fingers into her hair, entwining and grabbing and pulling her head back until she looked directly into my eyes as I looked down. I kissed her then, a deep tongue kiss, forced upon her restrained form, and yet willingly accepted. Her tongue flittered and pulled mine in as her breathing quickened. Her kisses were always the best.

I broke the kiss, and withdrew my hand. Her top was partway open from my explorations, her breasts partially visible. Restrained as she was in the chair, ankles, knees, wrists and elbows, she had never looked sexier. My own arousal almost took me made me release her and start ripping clothes off, but I held my concentration.

From behind her, I brought out the thin latex sheet I had waiting. I slowly positioned it over her face, and then pulled it back all the way until it clung tightly, conforming to the shape of her nose, eyes, mouth. Her breathing suddenly became labored. In fact, her attempts to breathe were no longer successful. She stayed remarkably still at first, simply tolerating the rubber that covered her face. But the desire for air overcame her, and her chest struggled, heaving in her attempts to suck in some oxygen.

I released the rubber sheet, and she took a huge, deep breath. Panting for just a moment, she looked at me in the mirror with frightened eyes. Looking back at her in the mirror, I kissed her cheek, caressed her hair, and smiled approvingly. The latex sheet descended over her face once again. This time she saw it coming and took a deep breath before I pulled it tight and cut off her air.

It was only 45 seconds or so, but it was enough. She began to struggle, chest heaving and arms wriggling in the restraints. The latex sheet sucked into her open mouth as she tried to breathe. I released the sheet and she sucked in air, panting, gasping for longer this time. She didn’t look at me for a while, and when she finally did her eyes showed the same fear, and as well as something else…

“Do you love me?” I once again breathed in her ear.

“Yes!” She almost spit out, as if unwilling to give up the air for that simple word.

“Will you do anything for me?”

She looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and then lowered her face so she stared at me directly in the mirror.

“Yes!”

It was time. She knew what she was in for, understood the reality. She had committed herself.

From behind her chair I produced a single large clear plastic bag and a velcro strap. I slid the bag over her head. She stared out through the distortion of the clear plastic, still looking at me. The fear was still in her eyes. And yes… that something else. The love. The dedication. The commitment to do all, endure all, for me.

Could I take advantage of that? Yes, yes I could.

“When I place the strap around your neck, it will cut off your air. All you will have to breathe is in this bag and in your lungs. The air will last about two minutes. The velcro strap can easily be removed. Just pull on it, here.” I illustrated how it could be undone with a quick, simple pull.

“Once I place the strap around your neck, I will undo your right arm restraints. You may remove the strap and bag at any time. You may breathe at any time.” She looked at me with a rising question of fear. She had not expected this– this was a test. A test beyond what she was prepared for. She saw it coming.

“All I ask is that you not remove the bag.  That’s all. Give yourself to me, completely to me. Breathe in what air you have. I will be here with you. When consciousness slips away, know that you are still with me, and that it is forever.”

Tears came to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t know… if I can.”

“That’s up to you dear.”

I slipped the strap around her neck, pulled it tight and let the velcro hold it in place. She breathed in suddenly, the bag contracted over her face as all the extra air was sucked into her lungs.

As she continued to breathe, the bag expanding and contracting with each breath, I moved from behind her to the front, kneeling before her and undoing the restraints of her right arm. Her hand reached up and gripped my shoulder. I rose and slid over her, until I knelt between her legs, my face close to hers. She looked into my eyes with pain and fear, but I could see that it was fear that she would not make it, that she would give in.

Her sucking breath came faster now. She shook her head from side to side. Her free right hand alternately gripped the chair and my arm. Her skin under the bag was wet, sweaty from exertion and from the humidity of the trapped air inside.

The heaving of her chest was so alluring, arousing, I unbuttoned her blouse all the way, spreading it wide to expose her beautiful, heaving breasts. Placing my hands on her bare chest and stomach I felt the strain, the desperation in her body as she gasped for oxygen.

“Please… please…” She gasped. What it was she begged for I did not know, and I suspect she didn’t either. I slid my hands up her body to either side, under, and then to the sides of her breasts and on to feel the ribs under her arms. At the same time I moved up and kissed her through the bag. Her gasping was panicked now, and her right arm clutched my neck, pressing my head against hers as she tried to kiss me with an all consuming kiss that would distract the pain her body felt.

I separated and watched her eyes closely. The fear was gone, the gasping was slowing. She was beginning to go.

Her free hand, which had held my arm tightly, was no longer tight. It was going limp, as her head began to wobble slightly. And then, all at once… her head fell backwards and her body relaxed completely.

I waited just one second, caressing her face, and then undid the strap. The bag slid off and cold, fresh air flooded her face, reviving her semi-conscious form. I slapped her once, twice. Her breathing strengthened and then took hold in slow, deep, starved gasps. Sitting with her head back, looking at the ceiling, she gasped and breathed and finally cried… tears running down her face.

I undid the rest of her restraints, and when they were all undone she fell forward, arms around me. “I have failed you!” she sobbed.

“No, dearest. You succeeded. I simply brought you back.”

We sat together, enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies against one another as she slowly recovered from the most intense experience of her life.