Kitten,

When I tell you to breathe, I’m calming you by telling you to slow yourself down and become aware of something simple and physical, and to focus your attention on that.

But often I’m thinking of more than that, dear little one. I don’t want you to simply focus on breathing: I want you to focus on nothing but breathing. I want that to be the only thought you have.

Sometimes, Kitten, just breathing is hard enough. When my cock is deep in your throat, thrusting over and over without warning or pause, you’ve no choice but to catch your breath when you can: breathing is all you can think about. And that’s how I want you, surrendered to that simple imperative, focused wholly on the rhythm of my thrusting, gasping your next breaths during those moments when the head of my cock is in your mouth but not filling your throat.

When I’m making love to you, Kitten, I still want your breathing to be the only thing on your mind, if you’re thinking anything at all. When I’m holding you down, preventing you from moving, not letting you pull yourself away from my thrusting cock as I pound into you — when I have you so restrained beneath me, I want you to think only of catching your breath before my arms crush you to me again. Or simply let go, think of nothing, and just feel the pain and pleasure and relentless slamming of my body into yours.

And, my darling Kitten, when you’re on your knees with your shoulder pressed down into the mattress and my hand on the back of your neck holding you down, focus your attention on slow, deep breathing as you feel the pain of my cock slowly entering your ass. Think only of that, of inhaling and exhaling, slowly, steadily, as my fingers tighten on your hips and pull you relentlessly toward me, as my cock fills you and the pain slowly turns to pleasure with each gradually deeper thrust.

So when I tell you to breathe, Kitten, I’m not merely trying to calm you. I’m also reminding you of how much control I want over your body when we’re together, of how completely I want to dominate and possess you, until all that’s left for you to control is your breathing — if even that.

Soon, dear Kitten, I’m going to take away everything else, all of your other choices and freedoms, and leave you with only that. Everything else you’ll surrender to me. I’ll insist.

Love,
Sir