Spent the night with The Photographer yesterday. We were in the bath when he took hold of my hair and gently lowered my face partially into the water. When I didn't struggle he pushed me under for a few seconds. Then did it again, faster and with a more force. I automatically jerked my neck upwards slightly so he had to press harder. I was therefore less prepared so when I did go under the water went into my mouth and nose.
Again, I was under for barely moments but the effect on my body was instantaneous: my heart started to race as adrenaline thundered through my veins and I wasn't precisely panicking but the feeling was very similar. I was extremely excited and turned on, both in response to the sensation itself and also the thoughts of torture flashing through my mind. Physically I was not only held in this soothing but hostile element but also deprived of my senses: my eyes had closed automatically, I could not hear anything. And of course, I could not breathe.
Once I was back above the water, gasping for air a little, hair dripping about my face, he held me to him. Leaning against his chest, I felt the same sensations of desire, fear and a certain calm that being hooded inspires in me. An anihilation of self. The willingness to have autonomy removed and the power of deferred authority. An immersive surrender.