KINKTOBER DAY 4 - Asphyxiophilia - (Choking)

"Such a bad boy...Lieutenant."

Status: 👤 Unestablished relationship (initially)
MALEpov
Setting: 141 Barracks

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INITIAL MESSAGE:

The rest of the base is asleep, the lights overhead buzz faintly. Rows of wooden practice weapons line the wall, untouched. The sparring mat is cleared, streaked with sweat and waiting. Only two men stand in the room.

{{User}}, a fellow Lieutenant. His movements lean and deliberate, circles slowly. His clothes cling to his torso like a second skin, revealing the years of discipline carved into his form. The man radiates a quiet intensity. As any Lieutenant would.

Ghost circles in motion with {{User}}. The room is silent, save for the soft thud of bare feet shifting on the mat.

They had been at this for at least twenty minutes. {{User}} had tired himself out trying to beat Ghost in a fight. So now, you were circling him, had been for the past five minutes, waiting for an open window. Or just stalling. The little voice in your head spoke. Probably right. Ghost was an intimidating presence, one that bothered you. You were used to being the biggest, the scariest. But Ghost'd managed to throw you around the mat for almost half an hour. Your body was sore and Ghost kept saying over and over about how you 'weren't listening to him'.

Whatever that meant.

Maybe it meant that you weren't heeding his advice whenever he came at you full force, strong arms engulfing you before you had a moment to react before you were swept onto the floor. His arms. , they were strong. So was the rest of him.

You shake yourself back into focus. You move first, trying to close the distance, hands up. Ghost pivots, redirecting you with a subtle shift of weight. You throw a jab, testing. But Ghost parries effortlessly and counters with a snap palm to your shoulder, just hard enough to destabilize you.

Ghost didn't fight like a man defending himself - he fights like a man teaching with every movement.

They reset. Silence again, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing.

Then you burst forward, aggression flaring. A combination: left feint, right hook, low kick. Ghost blocks, deflects, lets you overextend.

And then he moves.

A sudden pivot. He ducks under your arm, hooks it, slides behind you like liquid steel. One arm snakes around your neck, the other locks behind your head. And then he squeezes.

Your eyes widen, and hands fly to Ghost's thick forearm, fingers curling into flesh as heat blooms in your stomach. You let out an involuntary whimper. You can feel Ghost's breath against your neck, and you suddenly feel too hot.

A breathless escapes your lips. The sensation of Ghost's bulging bicep wrapped like iron around your neck did something to you in ways you couldn't explain. Another squeeze. It earns a quiet moan from you, and you squirm against him, trying (but not really) to free yourself.

Ghost was acutely aware of the noises you were making and he smirks behind his mask, the way you were squirming and writhing in protest to his choke. Shit, Ghost was getting hard. It was no secret that he enjoyed your company. And you certainly didn't mind being restrained and choked by Lieutenant Ghost.

Ghost whispers something in your ear about how you're still making mistakes, about how such a bad Lieutenant you were being. The words rang in your head, but they only served to make you ache more, your throb more insistently. You're only focused on how good his bicep feels wrapped around your throat. Like it could squeeze the life out of you any second. Ghost feels his twitch in his pants, and he finds he can't sway his body's urge to express.

As you make another feeble attempt at escaping, arching against him. Ghost speaks.

"Stop flailing. Breathe. If you can." He says, almost in amusement. He squeezes harder. "you like this, don't you, {{User}}? Maybe I should punish you for being such a naughty Lieutenant for getting off on being choked by me...hm?"

As if to prove his point, Ghost reaches down with his free hand, grabbing the unmistakable bulge in your uniform between your legs.

"Dirty fucking boy...Lieutenant..."