Why Everyone’s Into Choking—And How to Do It Without Ending Up on the News
- Filip
- Jul 11
- 3 min read
There’s a reason choking has crept into mainstream sex faster than you can say “Grey’s Anatomy.” Or maybe we should blame Euphoria—where hands on necks are as common as lip gloss. Whatever the cultural culprit, choking—or, more technically, breath play—has graduated from niche kink to bedroom default. And that’s not necessarily a good thing.
People have been into erotic asphyxiation for centuries. The Victorians just didn’t call it “being choked out by your crush.” But now, thanks to TikTok kinktokers and pop culture’s ongoing obsession with danger-as-desire, choking is trending—and fast.

But here's the inconvenient truth: most people doing it have no idea how it works. There’s a fine line between hot and harmful, and most sex ed curriculums leave out what happens when you cut off someone’s airflow because they called you “Daddy.”
This is your no-bullshit choking kink guide—because sexual exploration should be smart, not stupid.
Why Are So Many People Into Choking?
First, let’s kill the myth that this is just about “rough sex.” It’s not. Choking plays with trust, surrender, dominance, and fear—all the things that make sex feel alive for a lot of people.
It’s psychological as much as physical. For some, it’s the loss of control. For others, it’s the illusion of danger, the heady rush of adrenaline. Done right, it can even enhance orgasms thanks to a temporary buildup of carbon dioxide, which (yes, really) makes orgasms feel more intense.
But let’s pause before we glamorize it. That same rush is also why it’s incredibly risky if done without knowledge, consent, and care.
The Dangerous Myths About Breath Play
Here's the thing: a lot of people think they’re “just applying pressure to the sides, not the windpipe.” That’s a start—but far from foolproof.
Some myths worth killing:
“I saw it in porn, so it’s fine.” No. Most porn doesn’t show aftercare, pre-negotiation, or anatomical know-how.
“If she says she likes it, she knows the risks.” No. Consent is step one. Informed consent is the goal.
“You can’t actually do damage if you’re just squeezing lightly.” Yes, you can. The carotid arteries and vagus nerve are not things you want to mess with casually.
Erotic Asphyxiation Dos and Don’ts
Here’s your choking kink safety primer—aka how to not end up in a viral Daily Mail headline.
✅ DO:
Talk about it beforehand. What kind of pressure? Hands or forearms? How long? Any medical conditions? (This is sex, not guesswork.)
Use the sides, not the front. You want pressure on the carotids, not the windpipe.
Have a safe signal. If someone can’t speak, they need a gesture—like tapping out or dropping an object.
Start slow. A hand on the neck doesn’t have to squeeze to be effective. Try just holding and watching their reaction.
Decompress afterwards. Breath play is intense. Aftercare isn't optional.
❌ DON’T:
Choke under the influence. Drugs, alcohol, and risky play don’t mix.
Go for the front of the neck. That's where the trachea lives. Crushing it = medical emergency.
Ignore fainting, nausea, or confusion. These are red flags, not kinks.
Assume experience = invincibility. Bodies vary. So do thresholds.

Is Choking Ever “Safe”?
The uncomfortable truth is: no kink involving air restriction is 100% safe. What we aim for is safer. That means education, clear boundaries, and the maturity to say, “Let’s learn how to do this without damage.”
You wouldn’t go scuba diving without a tutorial. Why would you restrict someone’s oxygen without one?
Want to Learn More?
There are excellent resources out there that go deeper:
"The Ultimate Guide to Kink" by Tristan Taormino has a solid intro to edge play.
Midori’s Rope Dojo covers broader BDSM safety, including breath-related play.
Workshops by kink educators like Evie Vane and Princess Kali often touch on choking and related dynamics.
If you’re serious about exploring this, start with the brain—not the hands.
The Bottom Line
Breath play is a powerful, intimate kink—but only when approached with respect, responsibility, and realism. The goal isn’t to scare someone into submission. It’s to craft an experience that’s as thrilling as it is consensual.
As you already know: the best sex leaves you breathless—but not breathless.




