Control breathing

Who wouldnt want a good girl, a soft hand, a gentle woman for a gentleman?

He said,
"Its been fine so far but after a while I want more than a soft style.
I want some slashes to go with those long eyelashes."
And so the bedroom became the black room
but a year later he wanted something more, something I wasnt quite prepared for.

He said,
"Every woman has an itch and every nice girl secretly wants to switch.
I like how the skins look on your white hands.
Id like you to deliver one of my demands."

He said,
"Every woman has an itch and every nice girl wants to switch." He led me in and lit the
room with a hundred candles and said "God never gives you more than you can handle."
I sat astride his chest, "Its just a thrill," he said, as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed,"its just breath control."
He whispered "Hold me here" and I did and his head fell back.
He whispered "Press harder" and I did and his eyes rolled back. Its just breath control.

Just breath control.
I saw him go pale.
I saw him seize up,
I felt something creep up like a taste for this.
Like a reward.
A kind of love, a kind of lustmord.
It was a minute then three then five then ten, he wasnt coming up again.
I held on for twelve.
I saw him seize and thrash and twist and when he was still,
I lifted away my wrists and looked at my hands and tried to understand.
"Its just a thrill"
I said as he relaxed on the dark, dark bed.
I sat aside his chest, "Its just a thrill," he said, "just a thrill.
Its just breath control."

When it was over, I slipped off the skins and drowned them in the river where we used to swim and a year later in a shop,
I was stopped by a man.

He said,
"I know youre looking for something thats hard to find and I think I have what you have in mind."
And he led me to a glass case and looked deep into my face...

"Its just control."