Shinobu Breathing Style Novels & Stories

“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

Then the gang left the cave and Kit led them to an empty patch of land, where he and Chris drew metal fans and stood across from one another. “We will now teach you the secret wind technique, known as the Shio Kin.” Said Kit pointing a fan at Chris. “It’s a style that uses speed and power.” Said Chris who got in stance. Then the boys stood in strange stance then started moving at extremely high speeds, striking with their fans. Sekora saw a wind mark appear on Kit’s hand, in which he saw it too because it started to hurt. Then Chris challenged Sekora and she got the technique down in an half and hour. They also taught her to use wind on offense and defense.

"Look out, Yukime!" Yagyuu Shinji's pupils shrank, but he didn't dare to help because Hanaki Inuichiro was staring at him wickedly. Hanaki Naoki's mouth tinged with satisfaction. In his opinion, this blow contained the essence of the One Blow of Knife, and as a woman, Yagyuu Yukime had no choice but to dodge. He had even begun to prepare the next move. "You're courting death!"

His hair fluttered and the air he inhaled also became much fresher, not as dull as before. "Very good. Listen up, then act quickly three steps forward, seven cuns for each step, then six steps backward, 10 cuns for each step. The movement should be consistent and must be completed in one breath without any stagnation." The Sword Master's voice sounded more dignified. Ding Hao took a deep breath, recalled it in his mind, and then resolutely took three steps forward and six steps backward. His every step was as long as what he was told and they were completed in one breath.

His heart is beating even slower. I tilt his head back to give me more access, and I blow more air into his mouth. I don’t stop, I keep breathing into his mouth. Come on! Breathe! You goddamn omega!. Fucking breathe Sorahiko!. He’s not breathing. I don’t let up. Inhale. Exhale. Push. Not until he takes in that first shaky breath. Not until he starts breathing by himself, albeit shakily. At least he’s breathing. I pick him up gently, cradling the back of his head in my hands. It’s the first time I’ve seen Sorahiko so silent. It’s unnerving.

The crescent at my throat warmed, a faint sensation more like a sigh than a flare. I focused on my own breathing. In. Out. Slow. Steady. His frame was tight under my palm, muscles bunched as if ready to run or bolt or fold in. “Match me,” I said quietly. “If you can. You don’t have to make your lungs bigger than they are. Just…follow.” I breathed. Again. Again. After a few rounds, I felt it. A tiny stutter. Then, his breaths started to hitch toward mine.

He really did like throwing big guys around. Mitch tried another attack. Bobby flipped him again, this time holding on to him and rolling him up and locking Mitch’s head under his knee. He knew the hold was very painful and he released it almost immediately. When Mitch got back to his feet this time, he looked shaken and wobbly. Bobby was a little annoyed, to tell the truth. So many of these guys just weren’t in shape. They pushed weights and did their cardio but they didn’t work on their breathing or their meditation. They didn’t have a clue about chi. They didn’t have iron inside them.

Kenji circled, slow predator, jet hair slicked, ruthless, dragon tattoo peeking, collar-open gi, porcelain skin sheened with faint exertion. "Breathe into the draw," he murmured, gravel-velvet low, positioning behind—chest brushing my back, heat-jarring, scarred jaw grazing asymmetrical bob. His hands overlaid mine on the hilt, porcelain fingers guiding steel whisper-pull, bodies aligning forms intimate. "Speed is surrender. Precision claims." Bokken flashed arc perfect, my strike slicing air hiss, mahogany arm extending unyielding. He pressed closer fraction, hips nestling mine deliberately, breath hot lobe. "Again."

“Control your breathing. Don’t let it pull you back there. Just stay with your mind.” Aidan clenched his jaw as he forced himself to follow the rhythm he had drilled into his body over the years. Inhale, exhale, then count. The technique he had learned through countless hours of Aikido training became his anchor, pulling him back from the edge of that suffocating darkness. “One… two… three…” he counted silently, each breath gradually loosening the tight grip around his chest until the world stopped spinning. It took a few moments, but eventually, his breathing steadied, and the tension in his shoulders eased, though the shadow of what he had just experienced lingered in his eyes.

"Ok. Loosen your elbow. Hold your hand like this. Loosen your grip. Don't choke it. Just breath." His low, deep voice in my ear is sending hot waves to my core. My breath is shaky. He moves to look at me. "Relax." He rubs his nose on my cheek. Heating me up even more. "Train your eye on the sight. Aim." His warm breath tickling the hairs on my skin as he barely rubs his lips up and down my cheek and ear. My breathing is speeding up as my core starts to swell with desire. "Slow your breathing. Don't get excited. Concentrate on the target. Now. On your breath out. Squeeze the trigger. Don't pull it."