Suspension Bondage and Breath Training

For TOKIME’s birthday this year, I asked her how she wanted to celebrate.

Her answer: “Bondage, suspension, K9, fucking machine, breath training.”

Of course I was going to make every single wish come true. Bondage + K9 would be saved for the evening cake-cutting; the rest we’d finish during the day.So, dressed in her prisoner latex catsuit, TOKIME was hoisted onto the gantry frame: legs spread wide and lifted off the ground—an absolutely perfect position for use.

She said the floating feeling was special, just the faintest, teasing urge to struggle.Breath training, of course, started with CO₂ rebreathing in a plastic bag, this time fitted with a valve so I could give her occasional mercy breaths.

The mid-air struggling was gorgeous. While her air was controlled, every inch of her body stayed completely accessible, letting me crank the intensity whenever I wanted.Under the open-mouth gag, the inside of the bag turned into an ocean of drool. When I finally peeled it off, saliva poured out like a broken dam, dripping straight down her chin and chest.

That position made both the vibrator and the fucking machine ridiculously convenient.Fucking machine + electric breath valve running at the same time, one remote in each hand, felt exactly like holding a game controller.

In the end, TOKIME’s voice shook as she whimpered, “I’m… going to break…”Two full hours suspended, no breaks.

Countless orgasms.

Moments of zero air.

Deep rope and latex marks etched into her skin from the catsuit and suspension.Even after all that, she was still smiling, because tonight there’s another round waiting for her.