Strangulation phone sex is how I enjoy celebrating Christmas. Under the Christmas tree, amid all the pretty lights, a victim’s ass is tapped out hard.
When your hands wrap tight around my neck, it’s intense. But while that dick pounds into my ass, squeezing harder with every thrust, it excites you even more.
Plenty of celebrities, musicians, and artists have died from autoasphyxiation—or autoerotic asphyxia, as they call it.
It’s when you restrict oxygen to your brain for that heightened sexual rush. Obviously, it’s a dangerous kink.
And yes, this kink kills. A few years back, I discovered something dark about myself. My craving to be strangled was intensely arousing.
That intense rush—the oxygen slipping away, the edge of blacking out—while you violate my ass. This sends me into pure bliss.
Obviously, I like to cum hard, and this fantasy is one that blurs the line of reality. And diving deeper into the obsession, I was aware of the danger.
However, I threw myself into risky situations on purpose. First, I chased the real danger of losing my life.
Then, I hungered for that moment when consciousness fades, and the rape fantasy takes over.
Call it what you want—it makes me cum harder than anything else. Ultimately, I wanted to feel something intense.
But this became a greater pleasure alongside the anal sex fantasies of being snuffed.
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