Torture can be as ruthless as it is arousing. And this slave experienced it today… When I announced it would be latex day, he didn’t expect that he too would be wearing something. Confined in the head box, bare, he finds himself with a gas mask that makes it hard for him to breathe. I walk around him, I observe him. I realize he is my property. But I also want to experience it. I want to feel his warm breath, and let him feel mine through the tube. I want to feel his fear. I want to hear him struggling because he can’t find air. And so I block the only hole that allows him to breathe. Many times. I block it with my hand, with my breast, with my ass, with my sacred temple. Or I blow into it to consume the oxygen. He is in distress. I look at him, and I tell him that this is not the time to rest despite it. I’m not done with him yet for today.