Breath control - controle de la respiration
And the God-dess recreated Man
Fleeing the guilty face of the crucified one does not mean fleeing
It means recreating life
Being engulfed, holding one’s breath.
And handing over control to
Her: The redemptress and creatress!
But let My Prey speak...
Perhaps it is like a cocoon, like the threads
of a spider’s web spun inexorably around me. Thread after
thread, the cocoon envelops me and holds me powerless as a captive
The latex skin clasps, squeezes me tight until I cannot move at
all. I am lying down, paralyzed yet very much alive. The skin covers
mine like an intimate part of me. Only my mouth and nose can still
be reached. My sex is sheathed in a part of this skin, enclosed
so that I cannot stop myself from getting hard. In a forced erection,
the latex embrace holds in the blood that swells the part of me
that I can no longer control. There is neither insolence nor triumph
in this state, as the cocoon is on the inside and only a bulge gives
any suggestion of what is happening.
My anus is also under control, filled by
something unfamiliar that has entered me and swollen until it clings
insistently and firmly, making sure I remember I am the prey. Now
a large tube appears at my mouth.
I open up and am penetrated there too, filled and suddenly suffocated,
panic-stricken. Mistress’s hand on my brow gradually calms
me. I realize that this possession still lets me breathe through
a central tube. Two small tubes soon enter my nostrils and I am
connected to life by these veins bringing me fresh air.
I realise I am totally enclosed in this skin, this protective cocoon.
Mistress’s hand gently strokes
my hair. I suddenly feel I can hardly breathe. The tubes are blocked…
panic! I vainly arch my back in my prison, twisting like a terror-stricken
prey, my heart thumping in my ears, my lungs straining for air…
At the same time, I feel the skin that has me bound, my hard, imprisoned
sex and the outgrowths in my anus and mouth that have swollen further…
Then the air returns and my lungs start working normally again, while
I feel Mistress’s hands moving over my chest as if to quieten me.
I give in to her and regain my calm little by little…
Then everything turns upside-down (...)
To be continued, of course...
Because the philosopher says,
“How could you interrupt the sacred feat of nothingness to bring
forth such a mass of misfortune and anguish?”
We must return to the sacred and travel to the gates of
Le ventre latexé expulse l'homme nouveau