Breathing Styles Ideas Novels & Stories

Maybe morning. It really doesn’t matter. My head is spinning and I walk out to the patio that over looks a tree line lit by the moon and just look for gravity in any space that I can find it. The cold air is sobering. Chilling my skin and hardening my nipples to remind them what it’s like to not be caged in by the restraints of clothing that binds the females anatomy. I take a deep breath in, forcing out my exhale as fast as possible. A meditation technique to help center me. Deep natural breath in, forced fast breath out. Also known as Fire Breathing.

The panic tightened its grip. She hesitated. “In for four,” I continued calmly. “One… two… three… four.” I inhaled slowly, deliberately, exaggerating the movement of my chest so she could mirror it. “Hold for two,” I said. “One… two.” Her lips trembled, but she held it. “Out for four,” I murmured. “Slow. One… two… three… four.” I exhaled long and controlled. She tried to copy me. It wasn’t perfect. Her breath caught halfway, shaky and uneven.

I focused on his touch- tried to focus on his touch but my breathing was too rough and I could hardly hear anything that was said. “That's it, Sara, keep breathing slowly in and out” And I listened. I breathed deeply, in through the nose and out through the mouth. I did my best to slow down but I couldn't help but think that I needed to get out of there now. “1. 2, 3,4” He counted with my breathing.

Then he tried doing some katas, shooting the lightning in every moves that involved him punching his hands forward or kicking his feet forward. When that was done, he took a one minute break. He ensured he was breathing normaly while calculating in his head about his next moves. Then he started everything again. However, this time, he reduced the shots to only when he wanted it to be shot. When that was done too, he took in a deep breath and repeated the same process with different fighting styles. He did that for more than an hour, initiating patterns he had planned in his head. Taking a deep breath, recalling the spark, doing some katas, and a short rest.

Katherine nodded back, then focused her gaze ahead, determined to stay in her own space. The instructor stood at the front, a lithe woman with a peaceful voice that carried across the field like a lullaby. “Welcome,” she said gently. “This morning, we begin with the breath. Inhale… through the nose. Hold. And exhale… let go.” Katherine closed her eyes. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. The tension in her shoulders started to ease. They moved through stretches slowly. The world was still quiet enough to hear birdsong and the wind threading through the trees. Katherine fell into the rhythm—cat-cow, warrior, tree pose—letting her thoughts drift.

“Slow your breathing down. Take long breaths in and then as long to let them out. You do can that.” Nathan looked at her and saw a slight change. She spoke softly and with ease, but more than that, as she did and he listened, he was changing his breathing to what she wanted. Her hand was moving up and then down the shaft of his cock, making him twitch without thought. He wanted to breathe more normally, but when he didn’t, she would stop her hand where it was. He would slow his breathing again, and her fingers ran up and down and then circled the head of the shaft. Slow and steady, he was now breathing deeply, and he had his head back on the pillow and tried to focus on the feeling her tiny

“I understand, Sir.” He loosened it again. “Better.” He rose. “Stand.” She stood. He touched the side of her neck where the collar lay. His thumb found her pulse and rested on it. “Rule five,” he said. “When I count, your breath obeys the numbers. In for four. Hold for two. Out for six. If I change the pace, you follow. If I stop, you hold. You do not anticipate. You wait.” “Yes, Sir.” He counted. She obeyed. At three cycles, her shoulders dropped a fraction. At six, the tightness in her chest eased. At nine, she felt the strange calm of being carried.

"Feel the power inside you. It's there, buzzing just beneath your skin." "It's terrifying." "Power always is but fear makes you lose control. So we breathe through it." My thumbs press gently at the base of her neck. "In through your nose, slow, hold for three counts, out through your mouth." She tries and it's shaky at first. "Again. Find the rhythm." She breathes once, twice, three times. The glow around her hands dims slightly. "Good. You're already learning." "It doesn't feel like learning. It feels like drowning."

Kael stood in the center. “Stand straight,” he said. Ariana adjusted her posture. “Breathe.” She followed his instructions. Slow in. Hold. Slow out. Again. Again. **** At first, it felt useless. Just breathing. But slowly her body calmed. Her heart slowed. The pain became less sharp. *** “Close your eyes,” Kael said. She obeyed. “Listen.” She focused. The wind. Leaves. Her heartbeat. **** “Now feel,” Kael said.

She sat down and put her back against the island and looked at the kitchen from this angle and breathed. She breathed in the specific way she breathed when she needed breathing to be a deliberate act rather than an automatic one — slowly, with attention, letting the inhale fill the space below her ribs, letting the exhale take longer than the inhale. She had learned this somewhere, could not remember where, it was the kind of thing you learned and forgot the learning of and simply had. She breathed.