BossyShoeBitch
Posts: 3931
Joined: 1/13/2007
From: South Florida
Status: offline
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quote:
ORIGINAL: SoulPiercer
In the scene we call it Breath Play, kids call it the choking game or the hanging game - all the same thing, though the methods vary.
When I was a kid, we called it the dreaming game, because once you pass out, you have some pretty strange dreams. In that version you would bend over, breathe deeply 10-20 times stand, then someone would wrap their arms around you and squeeze your chest. My brother has a nasty scar over his upper lip, where he fell and banged his head on the coffee table. I just knew he was dead. Never did it again.
Kim and I do breath play, always on the bed and always when I am holding her. She's passed out twice, so after going back and doing even more research than I did the first time, I've changed the position of my hand, which seems to have helped.
When I was a little kid, I used to tie stuff around my neck because I thought it was cool to see the different shades of red and purple color my face. Never passed out though.
When I was in junior high school, we did something called a "rising shotgun". We would squat, purposely hyperventilate, then someone would squat in front of you with the lit end of a joint in their mouth and blow the smoke into your mouth while you would both slowly stand up. Then you hold the smoke in until you passed out.
I got a nice concussion from that little trick twice.
Once with Michael, I was on a cross and he had his hand around my neck. He wasn't applying that much pressure, but he has VERY large hands and I have a VERY tiny neck. I begain to see the same lights I would see while doing a rising shotgun, but didn't seem to remember to associate the lights with passing out. The next thing I knew, Michael was kneeling down next to me, "Lisa, omg, please come back to me!" He was so upset. Genius me asks, "Can we do it again?" The answer was of course a resounding, "NO!"
A few months later, we were at a playspace in San Jose and Michael had his hand around my neck again. Not tight mind you, just there. Again it must have been a function of His big hands and my little neck, but I begain to see those lights again. I did consider not telling him that I felt I was going to pass out because well, I like to pass out. But I was a good girl and told Him immediately.
Final analysis? I like being a Mom, sex object and deity MUCH MORE than I like to engage in that which could potentially kill me or give me lasting brain damage.
This of course, is only my opinion.
_____________________________
A clever man can get out of situations a wise man never gets into...
A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.
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