Shadow's Essays

"Words are loaded pistols."Jean Paul Sartre ~ "The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." Anais Nin

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Monday, January 08, 2007

#55. So Deep Within You


Essays on a life of P.E.
December 16th, 2006
by shadow


Master does lots of things that i do not necessarily either agree with, like, nor even feel particularly good about afterwards. This essay is one of them. i wouldn't normally write about something this personal, but this time, for whatever reason He has, He has ordered me to write about this experience- before i get to sleep tonight.
Right now, it hurts to talk. It hurts to swallow, it hurts to breath a certain way, it hurts to think about eating anything very solid. It hurts to remember.
It hurts to know He will do it again.
He likes breath play- that nasty kind, the kind where your windpipe is shut down, and gasping is hard.
He is careful enough to try to keep me undamaged, not only for my family, but because mostly He wants to play with His toys again.
But He knows that some of the ways we play are dangerous.
He found a better way-- a more painful way in it's own, and a way that gives Him more pleasure than i could imagine. Last night, He turned me over on my back, dropped my head slightly off the bed, and told me to suck His cock-- only he didn't really want that. He wanted to watch me suffer as He fucked me.
He isn't particularly oversized in girth or length. He's better endowed than many, but not elephant man status. He's something comfortable to take in the mouth for a while until He is hard, and something i have to work on with zeal, a bit to slide down and slip my lips over. Normally.
Last night wasn't normal. He forced my mouth wider, and pulled my arms out of the way and pushed PAST the back of my throat.
It cut off my air instantly. But worse, it pushed open my throat itself, hard, painfully stretching my throat open and wedging himself in the esophagus. This wasn't cock sucking, this wasn't taking Him in my mouth.
This was different.
I had *thought* about it sometimes, and i knew that people talked about it. But most of your great porn sites show standard cock suckers- upright face on her knees stuff, with half the guys dick still visible. Very few women talk about "deep throating". The old movie might have made it a publicly acceptable kink, but reality is, few women can do it at all, as they either just can't quit the gag reflex, or they just don't have mouths big enough.
As i said, this was different. This was scary. i was suddenly not just meat, i was unable to handle it. There wasn't just *no air* for a few seconds, there was huge pain and my entire throat was stuffed hard and still pushing in/down and i was trapped upside down under Him. And He didn't care if i was vomiting (and unable to even throw up- His entire dick blocked my throat) and screaming in my head, eyes tearing up and nose suddenly stuffy and such. My bladder wanted to get go, everything hurt so much.
There were demands He made- mostly to swallow. i remember that. Some i really don't remember. But swallow came through loud and clear. He said it hard- vicious. Hungry. It was impossible, there was no SPACE to even gag or flex my throat muscles, and my brain was screaming for air. He pushed, and for a moment the pain in my throat was immense.
Then He backed out. Rushing for air, gulping, wanting to sit up- and jammed back down, His cock pushing back in. He did that over and over-- taking me past some place where i thought i could "wait it out" until He came, or "stand it for a moment" as He pushed into my mouth. He kept finding that spot- that edge in my throat, at which i could still close off and breath, and the place past it-- and then pushing HARD down my throat, ripping the membranes, and my brain would suddenly panic and my hands push and scratch and jam themselves to get it OUT OF ME. Blurry eyes and tears, begging in my head that isn't getting out of my lips.
Sometimes, He let me. Some times, He didn't and i found a fear i haven't ever had with Him. In those moments, He reached down between His legs and cradled my head in His hands and PULLED my face up to His cock- It pummeled the curve of my throat and bashed deeper than anything i could have imagined, and i was pinned, held, forced to keep alive for more, more, more than i ever thought. There was panic, twisting that didn't help, lurching for air that wasn't there, yanking attempts that just made the fingers dig into my face and my neck deeper. Fear that He really was going to push until He was done, push until i was dead and He was done.
He doesn't find "done" easily. He can come- repeatedly- for upwards of an hour without going totally soft, and sometimes will hang at the edge for several minuets before allowing Himself to ejaculate at all. My brain was trying to keep me calm and relax the throat even as the throat was ripped and in pain and registering terror and no air and my whole stomach rolling over and over.
There were moments at it's worst, when He had His entire dick all the way down my face, stuffed down my throat, when my front teeth were embedded in the back of His dick. i remember thinking in that split moment as He FORCED so hard down me, that i must be cutting Him open. His balls were right there, at my nose, my front teeth being forced into the back of Him, and yet He grunted and enjoyed it even more. Holding my head, yanking me up to take him. i couldn't even bite, there was no room. NO swallowing, mouth filling with fluids and unable to breath and the unbearable wrenching of my throat muscles pulled past where they should be.
And through it all, there were gasps for seconds- and then no air.
No air. Dark and swirling fear and panic no air.
Painful hurting ripped open throat no air.
Even if i did NOT have an over developed gag reflex, my mouth- and all the parts- are too small. Dentists fight me. Never, ever in my life had i had my throat feel that way since they took out my tonsils (which i hear meant opening the muscles to over 4" in diameter)- and it took 2 weeks to recover from that. i was under anesthesia for that. This was face rape. He kept at me, His cock never leaving my mouth, even when He backed off to let me grab air around His dick and widen my mouth to try to pull in as much as i could. A stroke- a stroke for air and then back down into me.
i hated it. No, i didn't hate it. i hate no warm up. i hate raw fish. This, this was more horrible than anything i could imagine. He was too big, and too long, and it HURT. Hurt without air. Fear and pain and terror and being pinned under him with no way to even move. i was suddenly so scared, so blindly frightened and scared that i wanted to never never never see Him again.
Eventually, after about an hour, He pulled out (still hard as a rock- apparently He had been waiting to enjoy this kind of pain), and i found myself freaking, curling away, afraid and raw and unable to make a sound and feeling like my throat was bleeding, the air suddenly giving me pain in my chest as i sucked in HUGE gasps of it and tried to roll sideways, my hands around my throat.
He threw me around and flipped my legs up into the air to ream my asshole. i didn't care, i just held my throat with both hands and tried not to cry. Swallowing was like knives. Stabbing pain.
Eventually, i know He took me several more times, more places, but i wasn't paying much attention. Dinner burned (i had put on lamb skewers just before He had ordered me on my back on the bed). i was still panicked, still savoring each torn breath coming in, feeling air like i had never known it, and shaking uncontrollably. My tears were everywhere on me, my nose running and swollen, cum trailing out of me everywhere, but only the awful sore horrid cutting feeling with every breath registered for several more moments.
He ordered me off the bed, and i slid to the floor and crawled to the oven, still holding my neck. Scared of Him like i have never been before.
He was beaming. And telling me just how bad it would hurt for many days afterwards. And warning me not to try to talk. That warning was not needed. It was several hours before my vocal cords could make noises beyond squeaks and hoarse garbled rasps. And each time, it hurt like He was inside my throat again, swelling and tearing it open to slide inside me.
The sick part is, at the moment He let me live and pulled out of me, i was HIS. So totally committed that even tearing me open would have been wanted. He could have popped out my eyeball and fucked the socket in that moment. He had me pinned to Him like a butterfly on a mat.

Later, after dinner (cold soft berries feel good in those moments), He told me He enjoyed that. He liked to feel me panic and fight. He told me that now, i really did understand that i only breath at His pleasure. He owns the air as well.

For A.J. Dec. 16th, 2006



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