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Canadian Mike
10-19-2003, 7:18 PM
Story "Smother Therapy" p. 1

This must be the place, I thought, pulling up in front of a small building. The sign on the door was not garish, but quietly proclaimed "Therapy Center, Patient Entrance". I took another look at the flyer in my hand. "Smother Therapy" it read. "Are you having trouble relaxing? High pressure job got you down? Try a session with one of our registered 'smother therapists'. We'll take your worries away. Reasonable rates, as low as $20 for a five minute session. Longer sessions available. Licensed EMT on site." Yep, this was the place.

Stepping inside, I was surprised at the number of people waiting. Their ages ranged from youngsters barely in their twenties to mature business men in their fourties and fifties. I walked up to the check in counter and was greeted by a pretty young woman.

"Welcome to the smother center," she said. "Is this your first time?" I nodded, and she handed me a clipboard with some papers to fill out. "Take these and have a seat," she said. "When you finish, bring them back to me." I took the forms and made my way to a chair.

I gave the forms a quick once-over. They looked like fairly typical forms you would fill out at any doctor's office. Medical history, any allergies, name, address, and similar. The last page was different, though. It was for information about how I wanted to be smothered.

I looked over the sheet. There were more options than I had thought. The very first question was did I prefer a male or female therapist? That was an easy one, female, definitely. The next question asked if I wanted to be restrained or not. I checked "yes". The third question asked what length of session I wanted. Five minutes for twenty bucks. Fifteen for fifty. Thirty minutes was seventy-five dollars, and I could get an hour for $120. I checked the box for a fifteen minute session.

The next section was for how I wanted to be smothered. I saw that there were additional fees for different methods. Simple "hand over mouth" didn't cost any extra, but if I wanted to be breast smothered, it was going to cost me an extra twenty. Backwards face sitting was an extra thirty, and forewards face sitting was an extra fourty. There was also a check box for nudity, which carried an extra charge of $75. Some text explained that if you wanted multiple types, you were to check off any as desired, but you only had to pay the fee for the most expensive (the fees were not cumulative). The exception was the nudity fee, which was required if any nudity was involved. I checked off hand over mouth, breast, and reverse face sitting, but did not mark the nudity box.

I returned the clipboard and forms to the young gal at the counter, paid my $80, and was given a plastic card with a number on it. "They'll call out the last two digits when theyre ready for you." I returned to my seat, heart pounding as I wondered what I was getting myself into.

I'd been waiting no more than five minutes when my number was called. I jumped out of my seat and looked around, then noticed a friendly looking middle aged woman in a nurses uniform beconing from a door near the counter. My heart fell as I had been expecting a shapely young thing, but I resolved to make the best of it and moved towards her. She invited me in to a small room, where she proceeded to give me a brief physical exam. She checked my pulse, blood pressure, listened to my lungs and heart, and pronounced me fit and ready to go. She then told me that they would call me shortly, and returned me to the waiting room.

Canadian Mike
10-19-2003, 7:19 PM
Story "Smother Therapy" p. 2

I waited another twenty minutes, spending my time flipping through he various magazines on the tables. I couldn't read anything, however, because I couldn't get my mind off of what was going to happen next. Finally, my number was called again, and I stepped forward. A gorgeous blond led me back through a long hall to a small room. There was a chair somewhat reminiscient of a dentists char occupying the center of the room, and counters and cabinets around the outside. There was also some medical equipment next to the chair. "Please take off your clothes, and place them in this drawer," the blond told me. I waited for her to leave the room, but she just stood there, watching me. "Now would be good," she said. "I still have to get you ready for the therapist."
I quickly stripped down to my underwear, and removed them also after noticing an exasperated expression on her face. She instructed me to lie on the bed, which she then reclined fully. Glancing at a monitor, she pulled out some straps and proceeded to attach me to the chair. Cuffs were placed around each ankle, and they were fastened down about a foot apart. Additional cuffs similarly restrained my thighs. A belt was tightened around my waist, and another around my chest, just below my armpits. Next, my wrists were secured next to my body, and my upper arms as well. Finally, a strap was placed around my neck, and a similar ond across my forehead, holding my head tightly in the support that prevented me from turning my head. Next, a little clip was placed on my little finger. She told me this would track my blood oxygen level. Then she stuck small electrodes on my chest and hooked them up to another machine. She explained that these would monitor my heart.

After hooking me up, she told me that the therpist was just showering after her last session and would be with me shortly. Then she quietly left the room, leaving me with my thoughts for a moment.

Canadian Mike
10-19-2003, 7:21 PM
Story "Smother Therapy" p. 3

A few minutes later, the door opened again. In walked this incredible red head. She was wearing a short white skirt and a white tank top. As she approached me, I saw her pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. "Hi there, I'm Heather. I see we've got a three-way scheduled, and only fifteen minutes. How's about we get started, then?"

Without waiting for a response, she placed one gloved hand over my mouth. Reaching up with the other hand, she gently pinched my nostrils shut, cutting off my air very effectively. My eyes shifted from her face, to her breasts, to the clock on the wall. Her attention was focused on my eyes, as if she were watching for something specific.

"Got a lot on your mind, ehh? They always do when they come in. It just takes a moment, though, for them to forget all their worldly concerns. You'll know what I mean, soon. See, about now, you're feeling like you need to take a breath. You can't, of course, because I'm holding your mouth and nose. I'm not going to let go, either. Pretty soon, all you'll be thinking about is breathing. Which you're not going to be doing, because I'm not letting you."

I heard an insistant beeping from one of the monitors. "That's your oxygen level," she said. "It's normally between 95 and 98, but when the monitor beeps, it's because it has fallen below 90." She released my nose, and I gasped air in and out as fast as I could. "Ah, ah," she said. "You don't want to hyperventilate." She pinched my nose again, just as the beeping stopped. "Too much oxygen isn't good for you, either. Let me help you keep from doing that."

I heard the beeping again, but her grip didn't waver this time. She just continued gazing into my eyes, with brief glances at the clock and the various meters. I started to struggle against the straps, but they were very well positioned and restrained me fully. She smiled as I struggled, and commented "I'm glad you chose to be restrained. I can go a lot farther that way. If you weren't bound, you would have no doubt broken my grip by now, and gotten some fresh air. It's so much better, when I can decide when to let you breathe. Like now." and she let go of my muth and nose.

I gasped air in and out of my lungs as fast as possible, not knowing when she might cover my mouth and nose again. And sure enough, here came her hands once more. "No" I tried to gasp out, but too late. Again I couldn't breathe.


"Were you trying to say 'no more'?" she asked. "Too bad, you see, I'm in control now. I can let you breathe," and she released my mouth for a moment. "Or not," and she covered it again, "as I see fit. You can't stop me, and even if you beg, I'll do what I want, anyway."

My lungs were burning by this time, and the momentary freedom to breathe hadn't helped. Finally, she released me. "Time for phase two." she said. Had it been five minutes already?

Canadian Mike
10-19-2003, 7:22 PM
Story "Smother Therapy" p. 4

I lay there, fully strapped down, unable even to turn my head. Gasping for air. I looked up, and saw her breasts, covered by the white tank top, descending over my face. Gently, the soft pillows pressed against me, once again blocking my air flow. I held my breath, knowing the danger of exhaling against her breasts and not being able to draw fresh air into my lungs.

Finally, I could hold it no longer, and permitted some air to leave my lungs. It made a sound not unlike a fart as it burbled past the soft breasts resting gently but firmly against my nose. "Ah," I heard her say. "That's what I was waiting for. Now you have empty lungs and you can really experience the smothering."

The burning in my lungs was excruciating. She lifted slightly and I gasped in a small frction of a breath. "That's enough for now," she taunted me. I struggled to turn my head, or move it somehow away from her smothering breasts. "Oh no," she said with a mocking tone, "you can't get away that easily."

Again, she lifted slightly, and I snorted air in and out rapidly. Not enough to fully replace my breath, however, as she pressed down again. What torture, to have my mouth and nose sealed by soft tits. To have fresh air so close, but to be restricted, prevented from breathing, by those womanly protuberances that men normally crave so much.

Air. She lifted off my face. Rapidly, I gasped air in and out. I knew I had to get that infernal beeping to stop. She stood, with my head held tightly right in front of her thighs.

Canadian Mike
10-19-2003, 7:23 PM
Story "Smother Therapy" p. 5

Her short white mini-skirt barely came to the tops of her thighs. As she stood there, watching the monitors, I could only think that my session must be nerely over. She looked down into my eyes, and, smiling, said "See you later." She then separated her legs, and moved over my face once again.

Her white panties clung tightly to her bottom, and as she got into position, I concentrated on keeping my lungs as full as possible. The soft yet firm muscles of her ass shifted as she adjusted her position. My nose was just pressing against the fabric covering her ass crack, forcing it slightly inward. I felt her pussy, concealed by the panty fabric, pressing gently against my mouth.

Slowly, she increased the pressure, pushing down harder against my mouth and nose as she transferred her weight from her feet to my face. My nose was forced into the space between her buttocks, and they pressed my nostrils shut. My mouth found no purchase against the tightly stretched panty fabric, backed up by the soft texture of her pussy.

Her thighs rested against my ears, cutting off the sounds in the room. It was like being under water... I could hear my own heartbeat, thundering in my ears. My eyes, although not covered directly, were under her skirt. I could see the curve of her buttocks, and everything else was reduced to a white glow. I realized that the straps holding my head were completely unnecessary. The way my nose was wedged in her ass, there was no way I could have changed position, anyway.

She raised up a little, kind of sliding forwards. Her pussy remained firmly planted on my mouth, but my nose was able to get some air, although it was still restricted and I had to fight for each slow breath. I forced air in and out for a time, until she once again sealed off my nasal passages. Again, I was smothering under that delicious pantied bottom. The pain of smothering was sweet agony, feeling her luscious private parts withholding that air I needed so much. I felt myself fading, knowing that something had gone wrong with the monitors. She must know that I needed air, any air, even just a little bit. But she continued to sit, continued to smother me with her ass and pussy.

I was sitting in the chair. The straps had been removed, and my nakedness was covered with a warm blanket. I realized that I had been smothered to unconsciousness, and had been released while I was out. The blonde who had prepared me was standing by my side. She handed me a couple of pills, "for the headache" she said.

My head was pounding, so I gratefully accepted her offering. "How long was I out?" I asked.

"Just a few minutes," she said, helping me get up and handing me my clothes. "Here, let's get you dressed. So how was your first session?"

"Incredible. I'll definitely be back."

smotherman
10-20-2003, 2:50 AM
Terrific story Canadian Mike,I loved it.....I only wish there was a real smother therapy center like that:D .Thanks for posting story.



Peace
Smotherman

Logan
10-20-2003, 7:58 AM
Well done, very inventive

Canadian Mike
10-20-2003, 12:43 PM
I want everyone to know that all I've done here is cut and paste this story. The credit must go to BC Ted

Rennoch
10-21-2003, 12:26 AM
great story, old skool writer there too.


mike, got anything cooking in the old writer's den for us? i've got most of your stories saved to HDD, and i am trying to talk a friend into converting it to a sound format for a friend (blind, has a text reader but it's got one of those mechanical voices).

if i get the person to convert it, i would of course provide you with a copy :P

Canadian Mike
10-21-2003, 4:29 AM
Hey Rennoch, yea I will eventually write some stories again. in liue of my personal life of late, I am dexperate to get things back to normal. in fact I will be going to Toronto tonight to be facesat by a great lady. She's Veronica, Queen facesitter, very creative in deed, so very open minded, young, beautiful and veloptuous. I'm going nuts in anticipation.

CM