Love's Vapors

She looked at the cloth.

​

There was concern, and a little fear, in her eyes. But this was what she wanted. She longed for what was to come. She had dreamed of it for so long.

She looked into the cloth.

It looked innocent enough, she supposed. She knew it wouldn't hurt her. She knew he wouldn't hurt her either.

She wore a black teddy with a black cover-up. Lots of lace. Lots of leg. She called him.

"Yes," he said, as he walked into the den.

She took the cloth in her hand. Her eyes still showed fear, and her hand trembled a little. The fact was, along with the fear, there was something else: a yearning. This was her fantasy, about to come true. She knew it was his fantasy too.

He saw her there, standing in the center of the room. "What..." he started.

"This won't hurt me," she said. "I'll be all right."

Then she put the cloth to her face and breathed in deeply through her mouth.

In an instant, her eyes rolled back in her head, her head tipped back, and her legs folded. She fell onto the soft carpet in a heap. The cloth fell across her hip.

He walked around her. He lifted her hand, it rose without resistance. He released it and it fell limply across her stomach. He touched her face and ran his hand through her hair. This was definitely a nice surprise.

He watched her, watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed, watched her still, peaceful face and her lovely legs. He did nothing then but watched her. He knew what she had done. He had seen the bottle, had hoped this was what she had in mind.

She knew he watched her. While she could not move, and a smoky veil hung over her thoughts, she could feel the carpet below her, hear his breathing, sense his presence. It was agonizing to just lie there, unable to move to him, move him to her, but it was also ecstasy. It was better than she'd hoped.

In about five minutes, her lashes began to flutter and then she was suddenly awake. She sat up quickly.

She looked at him. She could tell he was pleased. She was at his mercy when she was under, even if for only a minute. Utterly at his mercy. Pleasure coursed through her too.

"Wait," she said. "It wasn't enough."

She picked up the cloth again, then walked over to the couch. She sat down at one end, and stared again at the cloth. She was still a bit frightened, but she wanted that thrill again.

"Go on," he said. "I'm here."

She pressed the cloth to her face again and breathed. This time, she didn't succumb right away. She only smelt the chemical vapors.

She longed for the sense of helplessness she felt before. Hungered for it. She sucked in more fumes from the cloth.

Then, she felt the cloudiness begin. She pulled the cloth away from her mouth and gasped his name just before the darkness enfolded her.

The cloth again fell from her hand, this time falling on her chest. Her head fell back against the couch cushions. Her right arm fell against her left hip. She was slightly off balance, so that she slowly spilled onto her side, her long hair tracing her passage on the back of the couch. Then, her hair fell across her face and into her open mouth. She could sense him there. While her body lay limp on the couch, her mind filled with delight.

He watched her fall in silence, his heart pounding in his chest. He had more time now, he knew. Each time she breathed the vapors, she would be out longer. But it was still not enough time, though. Not for him, and not, he thought, for her. He had seen the look of desperation in her eyes when she thought she might not succumb.

He tenderly brushed the hair back from her face, kissing each strand. He placed the cloth in his hip pocket. He put a hand under each of her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. Her head sagged back. He bent his knees and slid his body against her soft, limp form, feeling her weight fall onto his shoulder. He carried her into the bedroom and dropped her, none too gently, onto the bed.

Her arms fell at odd angles from her body. Her cover-up fell beneath her head, her hair fell like rays of dark sunlight from her head. Her lips were moist with lipstick, slightly parted. Her legs were bent at the bed's edge. Slightly parted. Slightly parted.

He left her then, and started the Jacuzzi in the sauna. He walked back and ran his hands over her limp body as the churning water warmed.

In a while, she slowly began to wake again. She smiled as she felt his touch, and the soft mattress beneath her. She knew he carried her in here, she thought, but she could not remember the sensation. Maybe after a while, she blacked out. She loved the thought of that.

She wanted it again. She looked for the cloth, but it wasn't there. Where was it? She sat up on the bed.

"Calm down, baby," he said. "Let me do it this time." He pulled the cloth from his back pocket.

​

She smiled.

"It would be nice," he said, "if you begged me not to."

He smiled now.

"No, please," she said, as she forced her smile into a plea. "Please no."

He walked to her slowly.

"No, no," she said, trying to sound afraid. "I'll do anything. Anything you want."

He was next to her now, bending down over her. "This is what I want," he said. He grabbed the back of her head with his left hand and clamped the cloth over her mouth and nose with his right. He wasn't very gentle.

She tried to look frightened as she sniffed the vapors. Shortly, though, she lacked the energy to keep up the facade, and continue her feeble twists and pushes, and he saw her eyes smile as she slipped into that conscious unconsciousness she had come to crave.

After holding the cloth another minute or two over her face, he let her fall back onto the bed. There was more time now, but he wanted to find the bottle she had dampened the cloth with. It was beginning to feel a bit dry.

It was in her dresser, where it was before. He dampened the cloth again, taking care not to breathe the fumes himself. Then he shoved the cloth back into his pocket and returned to his wife.

She lay just as he'd left her, still and beautiful on the bed. He lifted her over his shoulder and walked over by the full length mirror on the closet door. In her flaccid consciousness, she sensed the blood run to her head, and she knew what he was doing. If she could have smiled, she would have.

He turned back and forth, watching her hair fly, her arms sway as he did. He felt her forehead against his hip, her arms against his buttocks and legs.

He walked with her into the sauna, which was now steamy from the warm water of the Jacuzzi. He sat her limp form on the lip of the hot tub, then readjusted her weight so that he could cradle her. He lifted her again and lowered her very slowly into the warm churning water. Her hair touched the water first, and it spread as he lowered her bit by bit. Then, her buttocks and feet. Dampness spread up her nightie and cover-up as he let her sink still further.

He sat her on the Jacuzzi's bench, making sure that she would not slip down. Her arms lay along the lip of the tub, her hands limply curled, her head back. He reached into the water and lay her wet hair out on the shelf as well. He lifted one of her limp hands and dried it.

She woke very slowly. She knew where she was. She had blacked out while he had her over his shoulder, but she had heard the water and she knew where he was taking her. She was still dressed, which surprised her.

"Hello, darling," he said.

She smiled at her hero. She saw the cloth on the shelf and reached for it. He touched her dry hand.

"I need you to know," he said, "that this next time will be different."

She nodded. She knew. This was the fourth ingestion.

"You'll be out for a long time. Maybe a day, maybe more." He looked oh, so serious. She loved how he cared for her.

"It won't hurt me," she said. "You won't hurt me either, my love."

"You'll know most of what I do, but you won't be able to stop me, or know if you don't like it," he said.

"You know the rules," she said. There weren't many. "I want you to do with me as you like.

"Now, go ahead and gas me. I'll be scared again if you like."

"No, I want you to do it again," he said. He was smiling now. The sweetheart. He let go of her hand.

She took the cloth in her dry hand. Good thinking, there. Now the cloth won't get wet. She stood up so that her very wet nightie clung to her in all kinds of places, and showed quite a bit more.

She put the cloth to her face. It was harder to breathe this time, the smell was stronger.

He watched her stand there, clamping the cloth to her face with both hands, her body rocking back and forth as she tried to get a full breath. She wanted to take a breath of fresh air, he could see, but she wouldn't release the cloth. He was enjoying this, he thought, and instantly felt guilt tug at him.

After a very long struggle, he saw her finally pull in a lungful of the wondrous vapors. Her wet body tensed and shook. Her arms fell, and with them the cloth. It landed in the water at her legs and swam around her thighs. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and then they closed. She crumpled down into the water, landing face down in the churning, warm fluid. He quickly pulled her onto her back, and then propped her up as he had before.

This was the beginning of a very good weekend.

​

Please write me if you have any comments about this story.

Copyright 2002-2018 DPsleepy.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.