**TW** Lasting Hold (Erotica with choking)

[Po****]

Warning: The following content contains themes of D/s and sexual choking intended for entertainment purposes only.

Sexual choking poses potential risks that are very real.

Please remember:

Consent is sexy.
Communication is sexy.
Check-in with your partner regularly.
Make them feel safe.

Enjoy!

___________________

She struck a pose of reverence, her demeanor a reflection of profound devotion.

He embodied the very essence of paternal authority and discipline.

She extended her neck, a silent plea emanating from her, yearning to feel his firm, guiding hands enveloping her throat.

Then, she felt it, the feeble *** flow to her head struggling against the potent pressure of her living altar.

The world began to blur and distort around her, as if she were peering through a dense, murky fog.

She sensed the weight of her body growing, sinking like a stone into an abyss of submission.

In the hush of that moment, she sensed her breath growing shallow, and the hands around her delicate neck tightened, holding sway over the life *** that animated her being.

Her heart throbbed with anticipation, urgently endeavoring to propel the life-giving *** to her brain.

Yet, she yearned for him to delve deeper.

Her once sharp and clear thoughts now felt muddled and distant, akin to half-forgotten dreams slipping through her fingers.

Every attempt to grasp a coherent idea was like trying to clutch smoke with bare hands – elusive and fleeting.

He tightened his grip as she deliciously swayed in a dizzying haze, an exotic serenity washing over her like the warm embrace of ocean waves.

The rational instinct to survive clawed at the edges of her consciousness, but it too was dulled, as if anesthetized by the lack of oxygen.

She was trapped within her own body, a prisoner of this cruel disconnect between heart and mind.

Docile and malleable, she ceased her futile struggle to coax her sluggish *** upward to where it was desperately needed.

It was a hopeless battle, and she surrendered to her sadistic idol's will.

In that surreal moment, she grasped the profound fragility of autonomy and the delicate equilibrium that sustained it.

Her freedom had been an illusion, where the seemingly effortless acts of breathing and thinking were gifts she had taken for granted.

This realization, though terrifying, was liberating in an unexpected way.

She had been burdened by societal constraints and conditioning, where mere survival had overshadowed the essence of living.

She could see in his eyes that he was content, and so he relinquished his grasp on her throat, allowing his hand to ascend gently, tracing her cheek before seizing her hair.

She slumped languidly, her head weighted with euphoria, held in place solely by his compelling grip.

"What’s wrong, little girl? Are you ready for more?"

[TeeJay_98]

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