littleheartbeat

[littleheartbeat]

Hiya, everyone!!! I hope that you’re all doing well!!! 💖💖

I wanted to drop in and say hi, and that I hope everyone’s doing okay!! I also wanted to apologize for my long absence. I’ve met some really nice and kind people here, and I feel terrible for leaving many people in the dark.

About a year ago, I had a pretty terrifying health scare. If I didn’t wake up when I did, or if I remained unconscious and wasn’t found in time, I could’ve potentially died. I spent two nights in the hospital because of this incident. In some ways, it was interesting, but in other ways, it was terrifying. I was in plenty of pain and discomfort.

I’m still trying to work with doctors to figure out the true cause behind my health scare, so I’ve somewhat distanced myself from this community. It’s been a bit nerve wracking to be reminded that medical emergencies are truly real, and can occur at any moment. That’s part of what made things exciting for me before, but after experiencing one for myself, I’m frightened.

My scare wasn’t heart related, thankfully, so I don’t think I’ll ever step away from this blog, I quite love how warm and welcoming everyone has been, but I will be taking a continued break. I’ll hop on every now and then, I’d love to come back fully and create more content for everyone! I’ve had a few ideas stirring up in my brain. I’d even like to maybe write a story with someone or do a small RP. Maybe once I’m a bit more comfortable again, I’d like to.

If you’ve read this far, thank you kindly for your time!!! I hope everyone’s doing well, that you’re safe and healthy!! 💖💖💖

[littleheartbeat]

Some 3 to 5 minute gesture poses for practice. These all came from videos and photos, recognize any? Thanks to everyone who makes awesome content here!

[littleheartbeat]

Subject 12 - Interlude

I don't know who has less chill, me or you. Thanks for 100 notes on fic 2, hope you enjoy this interlude.

Experiment one, Experiment two

She answers the door in a black satin robe, her naturally cherry lips downturned in an uncharacteristic frown.

"What's this, a house call?" She asks with a huff, stepping aside to allow him entrance.

He smiles, trying to lower her guard. "I saw it on the books and thought I'd take the chance to visit myself."

Her home isn't exactly what he imagined it would be. He had taken her for lower income, perhaps she lived in a trailer park or over crowded apartment building. Why else would she sign up for an experiment like the one they were running? Where she dies, nightly, and he forces her back. He thought it had to be the money motivating her, but the house where she lives is in a desirable neighbourhood, a new building, with large glass windows in every room allowing inhabitants to look out on the whole city from where the house sits atop a ravine. He wanders into the living room, his eyes moving down with the view, noticing how the house seems precariously perched on the edge. How, if he stepped through the window, he'd have to cling to the sill for dear life. He wonders how often she stands here, imagining herself falling.

CW: cardiophile sex, intercourse, awake compressions, cpr, mouth to mouth, forced resuscitation

"Your house is beautiful," he murmurs, staring down into the river below the cliff.

"Thank you," she replies. She's followed him, standing a few feet behind and leaning against an expensive black leather couch. She's watching him with that same evaluative stare. "I didn't think they'd send *you*," she purrs, still prodding at his motivation and he looks back, giving her his most charming smile.

"Well, they don't -- normally."

Carrying his black bag, he moves to a plush green chair opposite the sofa and perches on its edge, inviting her to sit across from him.

"How are you feeling?" He asks and she shrugs softly, walking around the sofa to sit. The robe slides slightly off her pale shoulder, black bra strap emerging.

"Still a little sore," she admits.

"May I?" He asks, drawing a black case out of his bag and from that, his stethoscope.

She nods, sitting forward. He brings the buds to his ears, slipping the steth below the satin of her robe and over her heart. She finches slightly at the cold of the diaphragm and he gives her a reassuring smile. As the satin parts over her pale breasts, he can see the bruising still evident over her sternum.

It's been six weeks, much longer than their last interlude. A necessity, to let her heal and recuperate given the broken rib. He's been dying to see her. To find out how she is. If she'll be returning.

He auscultates over each point of her heart, listening to each strong valve as it snaps open and shut in rhythmic concert. He's familiar with the sounds of her pump. He listens for differences. Changes. He can tell it's working harder than before the experiments began, pushing against his hand. Perhaps the muscle is toughening from the abuse, stiffening. He listens, asking it to tell him. Where it sounded cocky before, over confident, it seems to be screaming now *not on my watch*, as if it must work harder to demonstrate its worth.

He's stayed like that too long, she's watching him closely, her heart rate increasing slightly. He glances up and smiles, drawing back.

"How does it sound?" she asks with a languid smile.

"Good," he answers. "Strong. Have you had any shortness of breath? Pain? Swelling? Dizziness?"

"No," she sighs. "Not after the first week."

He grimaces. "I'm sorry."

She tilts her head, then reaches up and slowly parts her robe, drawing it down over the black material of her bra so that her breasts are fully exposed. She reaches for his hand and confidently pulls it toward her chest, unfurling his fingers over her breast bone, pressing him to the remains of the bruise.

"I dream about it, you know," she whispers. "Of your hands. Pressing here."

His face and neck burn, dick twitching between his thighs.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you," he whispers back and she chuckles darkly.

"I wish you would," she teases.

His eyes snap up to hers. Her dark emeralds sparkling with amusement.

"You must have guessed by now," she murmurs, leaning toward him. His fingers are still caught in her hand and she massages his palm for a second before drawing it between her legs. He could withdraw, he could pull away, she gives him that opportunity, her eyes never wavering from his. But he doesn't. So she touches his fingertips to the crotch of her panties, and he feels wetness already bleeding through the thin fabric. He gives a small, involuntary gasp and her smile spreads into a grin.

"I've always been fascinated by it," she whispers. "Death. Closeness to it. The idea of...of dying, and coming back. My life...hanging in the balance. My heart in someone else's hands." She rubs his fingers against her until they're wet with her juices, then brings his hand to her mouth, taking his finger between her lips and sucking the pad. She holds it there with her teeth, speaking around his finger when she says -- "*your* hands."

He's silent, squirming slightly against the stiffness growing between his thighs, his heart rocketing against his sternum as he watches her. Oh, she is -- she is everything he hoped.

"Did you know," she whispers. "Every time you kill me, I come back so wet..."

He chokes, coughs, drawing back and standing up from his seat. She laughs softly.

"I... I'm not supposed to have any relationships with --"

"I can keep a secret," she sighs. "Please, my rescuer."

He looks back at her with disbelief. "I can't," he croaks, wanting so badly to do anything she asks.

"If you say no," she sighs. "I'll kill myself."

"What?"

"Poison. Or hanging. Or I'll run my car in my garage. Anything--" she spreads her legs, her arm reaching between them to touch herself. Her robe is still open, her chest heaving. "Anything to feel your hands on my heart again. Save me, doctor."

He moves toward her, as if his body is possessed, as if he's lost all control. His traitorous hand reaches down and circles her throat, applying just enough pressure to partially occlude her airway, making it harder to breath but not impossible. Her breaths rasp, vibrating against his palm. She doesn't pull away, not his girl, no, she pushes against him harder.

He can feel her heart beating in her carotid, thrumming. She's still touching herself, moaning softly between raspy, shallow breaths. She presses harder against his hand as her pulse jumps. He can count the beat, tachycardic now, something like 120 BPM.

He draws back, like her pulse has burnt him, and she frowns, collapsing against the couch with an annoyed sigh.

"I can't --" he says. "It would leave a bruise."

Her frown twitches at the corners. "Please, doctor," she whispers. "Play with my heart however you please."

He reaches down and slips his arms under her legs and shoulders, lifting her into a bridal carry. "You're very ill," he huffs. "You need rest."

"My heart is pounding," she agrees. "My bedroom is the second door on the right."

"Not the bed," he murmurs, taking her ear in his mouth and swirling it with his tongue.

He lays her out on the floor in the middle of the living room, then unties her gown. Her flesh is covered in goosebumps and she writhes on the hardwood. He reaches for the centre clasp of her bra and flicks it open, her breasts splaying to each side with a bounce as he releases them. The bruises are mostly yellow at this point, with touches of sickly green and blue. He traces his fingers over them, watching as her nipples bead and harden.

"I-I must be having a heart attack," she gasps, clutching at her left breast. He leans down over her, pressing his ear to her soft skin, his eyes fluttering at the tachy race of her heart. She writhes up against him, fondling his dick through his pants with her other hand.

"Please," she groans. "Doctor...I'm dying..."

He covers her sternum with his palm, pressing down experimentally in a shallow compression.

"Harder," she moans. "My heart..."

He presses harder, grinding down with his hips at the same time. She groans.

He presses hard, feeling her ribs creek below his palm. And he doesn't release. Using firm, continuous pressure to trap her heart in his power like pins though the wings of a butterfly. Her eyes round, her heart flutters beneath him like an insect with nowhere to escape. Her breath catches, mouth gaping open.

He releases her and she gasps, her chest heaving up and down as she catches her breath.

"Oh my god," she moans. "Again."

He leans down over her, his entire body pressed to hers, and tips her head back as if opening her airway. Pinching her nose shut, he covers her mouth with his in a deep, urgent kiss. His tongue fucks inside her and she strains under him, helplessly trying to breathe, but he won't let her. When her body is straining for air, he exhales into her, filling her chest with his hot, recycled breath. She moans against his lips and he pulls away.

"Doctor," she gasps, squirming up against his hips. "Please, please save me."

He's breathing almost as hard as she is, eyes wild as he looks at her. She's amazing. She's beautiful and powerful and he can't believe this is happening. He grinds his hips against her and, while he watches, she exhales all the air in her chest and holds her breath, chest straining without movement. A glint in her eye. Devil. That's what she is. Tempting him.

He leans back over her chest and opens her mouth, filling her again with his air, fucking his tongue deep inside her throat so she can't get any more than what he gives her. Waiting long, painful minutes before giving her more.

He unfurls his hand between her breasts again and thrusts down with full strength in a deep, one handed compression. She groans against his mouth. With his hand firmly on her chest he can feel her heart skip. He digs his fingers into her vulnerable apex, knowing he can feel her pump there, and is rewarded by a wild thundering beat against the tips.

It's crazy, thrusting like this against a beating heart. His compression could interrupt its rhythm, sending her heart sputtering wildly. He thrusts his hand down firmly and pins her organ to her spine, increasing the weight slowly, using his body weight above her to press harder, and harder, trapping her. He knows what pressure does to a heart and he wishes desperately that he had his steth. He leans in and presses his ear to her breast just in time to hear her heart skip erratically. Her sternum creaks under his weight. He realises she's not breathing, her chest no longer fighting him. He glances up and finds her mouth opening and closing like a fish, drawing no air, her eyelids fluttering.

He lifts his weight quickly and gives her pump a round of ten quick compressions to remind it of its regular rhythm then leans forward to give her two rescue breaths. The control is dizzying. With his other hand he undoes his pants, pulling his cock, hard and already slick, out of his boxers. Moving quickly, he guides himself past her underwear and drives inside of her wet cunt. Instantly her muscles clench around him. She's so wet and ready. He moves his other hand to her carotid and times his thrusts with the erratic movement of her recovering pump.

She moans. Then gasps, starting to hyperventilate in response to her need for oxygen. He sits up, getting his knees under them both and gripping her hips. She sags, head tipping back, arms limp. He presses his hand to her femoral pulse and continues to fuck her in time to her tachycardic heartbeat. He's breathless with the effort.

She reaches for him, grabbing his hand and pulling it to her chest, holding his palm to her breast. "*Stop* it," she begs. "Don't let it beat without your permission."

She's crazy, his devil butterfly. She wants the total loss of control that only death provides. He's even crazier, for giving in to her.

His hand finds its marker over her heart and he leverages his greater body weight over hers. Her chest struggles to rise against him, but all her air leaves her lungs in a long, involuntary *hhhhhhuhhh*. Her head tips back, lips parted. He can see her carotid jumping in her throat, responding to the pressure. Her pump is trapped between him and her spine, pressed into the hardwood. It flutters its butterfly wings while he thrusts against her dripping cunt. She starts to buck against him, breathless moans wracking her throat, muscles spasming around his cock as she starts to cum helplessly.

Shouting, grunting, he drives against her as hard as he can, her chest, her pussy are both his. Her face is pale, lips starting to purple like plump grapes waiting on the vine. She reaches up and starts to claw at him, pulling at his shoulders, nails biting into his sides. Her emerald eyes are rolled back into her head. He tries to match his thrusting to her pump but it's so erratic now, and he so close, he can't take it --

There! He cums hard, pleasure so overwhelming he can't see, can hardly breathe. His arm starts to tremble and then he falls forward, finally releasing the pressure on her chest, removing the pins in her wings and letting the butterfly free.

Like any insect handled with too much enthusiasm, her heart hasn't escaped unscathed. After a minute of his own come down, he realises she is limp and still, unmoving. He draws away slightly to examine her. Eyelids shuttered, parted lips pale. A single strand of brown hair lays across her mouth and he can see it moving with her shallow, rapid breaths. He gets up, using her satin robe to wipe himself down before doing up his fly and walking to the sofa. He retrieves his stethoscope and then returns to her, straddling her still body.

He breathes against the diaphragm to warm it this time before he begins moving across her auscultation points. Her heart is trembling, as if in fear, stumbling over itself, damaged and unsure. Oh how good it is, to know he's finally, *finally* taught it who's in charge. He palpates her ribs to make sure nothing has broken, then begins firm, rhythmic, one-handed compressions against her terrified pump.

"That's it, darling," he soothes. "You can beat now. I'll allow it." One, two, three, four. He goes twenty times and then gives her two deep rescue breaths, filling her up so full that her chest can't expand any more. Then again, twenty gentle compressions that force huffs of breath from her lips and rock her heart up and down in her chest cavity. Another two breaths, and this time her eyes are open, awareness returning to her glittering emeralds.

He kisses her, deeply, his finger pressed to her carotid so he feels her heart skip, still throwing messy, fearful ectopic beats.

"Did...did I die?" She croaks when he pulls back.

"No," he sighs, leaning in to kiss her thumping carotid. "But there's still time."

He doesn't go back to work that day. He carries her to her bed and spends the afternoon naked between her sheets, monitoring her heart as it slowly returns to normal. It takes a long time. He suspects he may have bruised the tender muscle with his enthusiasm. He runs it through his paces a few times before nightfall, letting the strength of her climax demonstrate that of her pump. And when he does return to the office, he recommends that subject twelve be given another two weeks before she's ready to return to the experiment.

He'll take over her monitoring himself.

[littleheartbeat]

"One more time. I promise this is the last time I'll ask you to do this."

"I know, I know. You're cold. I'll get you a blanket in a bit."

"It'll be a stronger shock. It is absolutely going to hurt."

"Take a few more breaths. Try to stay calm."

"It's charged. You ready?"

"Shocking... good girl. That's it. All done."

"Easy, keep trying to breathe."

"I know, I know. It feels bad. Your heart is all over the place right now."

"Well, it's beating, yes, but it's very irregular. All sorts of lovely arrhythmias in there."

"Hey, stay awake. Stay with me. It's almost over, okay? You just have to keep those pretty eyes open."

"You're doing great. I'm proud of you."

"I'm going to have to shock you again. I know, I know. I said I wouldn't. But if I don't, you might die. Understand?"

"Good. Charging again. Ready?"

"There... You still with me?"

"Hey, come on. Fuck, come back. Come on. You're stronger than that."

"Ha, good! Good job. You did it. You're back. I've got you."

"You scared me a little, there, but you're fine. You're safe and we are all done."

[littleheartbeat]

"A gift for you."

The body they lay before him is limp, head swinging, eyes closed. He doesn't fail to notice the gray tint creeping into the lips. He smiles, kneeling to crawl over to his present.

They've dressed her in a simple halter top and panties and he resists the urge to reach under the shirt to fondle her generous breasts.

"You have my thanks." He murmurs, touching both sides of her throat to feel for a pulse. He is never sure if they'll bring the treats with their hearts still beating or not.

A faint tapping meets his exploratory fingers. It is quick and impossibly soft, as if her heart was whispering to him. He licks his own lips before placing them delicately upon hers. They do not kiss him back, nor does the breath she should be exhaling tickle his mouth. He leans away, fixing his eyes on her chest. And he waits. But her belly does not move, her ribs do not expand to accommodate the life-giving oxygen she needs.

Feeling generous, he seals his lips back onto hers and breathes fully from his own lungs into hers. The rise of her breasts brings her nipples brushing against his ribs. He shares his air with her a few times more, planting one hand firmly over the left side of her ribs to feel the slogging beat of her heart. He is sure she was dying. It makes him hard.

Pulling away, he adjusts his hand over the middle of her chest and pushs down lazily. Her chest caves under his pressure and he can feel how he has trapped her already struggling heart between his hand and her spine. He holds the pressure for a second, two, before releasing. He feel how her heart skips, stops for a moment, then speeds up once it is given back its space.

He compresses her chest again, a little quicker now, a little harder now. He tries to match his pace to his own pulse, wanting to bring his prize to life. He breathes for her again, a series of short, shallow bursts to hyperventilate her. This makes him smile as he feels how her heartbeat speeds up in response, faster but oh so much softer. He almost has to dig his fingers into the spaces between her ribs just to feel the faltering pulse.

He peels back an eyelid, curious about his guest. They are rolled back, but he can see some of the color peeking around the massive black of her pupil. 'She's drugged', he muses. Suddenly, her chest spasms under his hand. He raises an eyebrow, amused. Her sternum bows inward as if an invisible hand pushed down on it. Her ribs flare and her full lips part ever so slightly. He thinks to himself that she is finally breathing on her own, but the way she gasps is odd. He turns to those watching, his advisors, his chamberlain, and some key military officers. They stand nearby, some flushed from arousal, others unamused.

"What is happening to her?" He asks.

It is a general that answers, a tall, well built man with silver at his temples.

"Agonal gasps." He replies. The lord smiles again, ponders the noise his prey is making, and gestures to the general. At the beckoning, the larger man steps forward and kneels, unable to keep his eyes from darting to the woman's form as she dies right before them.

The lord crawls again, this time to bring his face into the crook of his general's neck, nuzzling the rapid pulse there. He kisses the man before him, fingers drifting down the front of his torso down to his groin, where he can feel the hardening peak there. Feeling himself growing ever more aroused, he sits himself back on his pile of pillows and waves his hand dismissively at the girl.

"Save her."

"I beg your pardon, my lord?" The general asks, uncertain.

"I want to watch you resuscitate her, General. Consider it your gift to me."

"As you wish." With that, he sets to work.

He settles himself beside the girl, making sure to face his lord, and he lifts her soft chin, pinches her freckled nose, and gives her a full breath, silver eyes flicking to watch her chest rise. Satisfied, he checks her pulse at the throat and at the junction of her thigh and pelvis. He waits, steely gaze on her mouth as she gasps again. When he finds nothing, he begins his task in earnest. He sets the heel of one hand into her breastbone and is about to place the other atop it, when he realizes how much bigger than her he is. Training in the back of his mind goes off, as well as warnings, and he decides against the action. Instead, the general begins pumping her chest with the one hand and uses the other to keep her chin raised, hoping to keep her airway open.

The compressions he delivers are heavy, demanding. He crushes her chest beneath him, moving the blood through her heart and to her brain. The lovely lips, now gaining a blue tint, release little wheezes as he forces what little air is in her lungs to escape. He breathes for her again, tasting the bitter drug on her tongue. He knows why they are drugged, knows it's better for her to be unaware of what's happening.

Oh, but she is aware. They didn't know this, but the poor girl can feel everything being done to her. She can feel and hear everything. She wants to respond to the lazy kisses. She wants to moan, cry, scream, at the pressure on her chest, cutting off her heart's ability to fill properly.

She is painfully aware of the man driving himself onto her, his hand a hammer pounding her sternum, his mouth a hot searing brand that clears her head if for only a moment with his breath. He is pumping her heart for her, doing its job. She can feel the organ quivering in her chest in the space between the push and release of his compressions. 'Breathe!' She urges herself and, as if he heard her, the man is bent over her again, exhaling into her his smoke tinged air. It fills her up, hot and bright and she tried to gulp at it, to draw more of him into her starving body. But her chest falls uselessly when he pulls away. She hears him speaking to her, close to her face.

"You have to take a breath, girl." He whispers.

"Breathe for me." His air is in her again and she tried to obey him but there is lead in her lungs.

The lord watches his general pound away at his treasure's body, tightly muscled arm locked and stacked under his shoulder. There's sweat beading on his brow and he can see his lips move as he counts under his breath. The lord slinks forward to press one finger under her ribs, avoiding the forceful movement of the officer. He relishes the way her bones bend. He glances at the general as he gives another breath to the girl and he uses the opportunity to place his own palm over her heart. Her chest lifts as she is breathed into and as her chest falls, the lord feels the first hesitant tap of her returning heartbeat.

It is so weak he almost thinks he imagined it. But he waits and touches his other hand to her wrist. Sure enough. Taptap...tap. He grins and stops the general as he moves for more compressions. He takes the man's much larger hand and places it on the gift's breast, instead, making him knead at it as she takes shuddering breath.

"You did so well, General. I like watching you work so hard. You deserve a reward." The lord kisses the general. The older man returns the gesture tentatively but the lord sees that his hand is still resting on the girl's shallowly moving chest.

"Take her if you want her."

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[littleheartbeat]

Steady

F/M - fem!Reader - 18+

AN: Request fill for @fluentinfiction who came up with this tantalizing scenario that immediately triggered my imagination 😊💗 Scattered throughout are some gem phrases from @makeitbeat, my unfailing font of inspiration 💙 Enjoy

---

Every orgasm was good, but some felt like brief meetings with God. This was one of those. Screaming as your walls spasmed around him, you felt jettisoned out of your body and collapsed back onto the bed, every muscle trembling, your mind somewhere else entirely. He had licked and sucked and teased and thrust into you for such a torturously extended time, all so he could bask in the desperate pounding of your heart that he was monitoring with both his steth and an ECG. When he finally allowed your release, everything gave out. You were so numb you could hardly move. All you could do was gasp raggedly, body fighting to descend from your high while your mind resisted. You were willing to drown in this pleasure.

You barely registered how he pulled his boxer briefs back on, bent over you and studied the monitor screen, his brow furrowing.

“Hmmm, I don’t like this. That’s too many PVCs.” You vaguely felt fingers pressing into your carotid pulse. You were too strung out to even know or care if your heart was beating anymore. Drawing a full breath still seemed impossible. Then his face became visible through the haze, leaning over you with concerned eyes. A hand ran gently down your cheek. 

“Breathe for me, love. Calm down.” 

You tried, honestly. But your body felt so entirely out of your control, still shaken by the height of pleasure he had dropped you from. You could hear yourself wheezing.

“Here,” he leaned in and suddenly his lips sealed over yours and a gust of air gently filled your frantic lungs. You could feel the relief it granted, how desperately you needed it. Lightly holding your nose closed, he breathed into you again and you drank him in, the tremors in your muscles beginning to fade, sensation returning as you felt yourself pressed into the bed. Three breaths. His efforts were helping but the taste of him threatened to keep you suspended in bliss forever. A fraction of your senses had returned but you were still too stunned to move.

He pulled back and looked at the ECG again, shaking his head with something nervous in his expression. 

“We’ve got to get your heart under control.” He moved to straddle you, planting a warm palm on your chest between all the electrodes. With that added pressure you could finally feel your heart and it may as well have been doing backflips. Lurching, skipping, flailing around, it was even starting to ache. But you didn’t have the presence of mind to react. The loving look on his face would have made your heart falter if it wasn’t already in freefall. 

“I’m going to give you compressions, alright?” he explained softly. “Tell me if I hurt you.” 

You nodded, the first movement you had managed since you came. Then he laced the fingers of one hand through the other, locked his elbows and began to pump. This was not the first time he had worked your chest. It was a frequent part of your playtime together. But this was the first time he was attempting it as something remedial. His palms were driving a bit deeper than usual; not enough to hurt but enough that you could feel the insistence in his thrusts, the slight movement of your sternum. It felt exhilarating and terrifying and necessary all at once.

He watched you closely, his breath growing husky with the exertion. “That’s my girl. Focus on this rhythm, okay?”

You were bouncing against the mattress, feeling warmth flood out to your limbs though you had no idea what your heart was doing. The line was blurring between the thumps you felt in your chest and the persistent, recursive press of his hands. You were dimly aware of the ECG making noises beside you. Overwhelmed, you let your eyes flutter closed and arched back against the pillows.

“Don’t pass out on me!” he barked, and you blinked back to alertness. “Just try to breathe.” 

Your breath was still shallow but you did as he asked, trying to work with the jerking motions of him pushing into your chest. A gasping inhale for four compressions, and a shaking exhale for four. You felt yourself slowly descending back to earth, the gauzy bliss of dopamine seeping away and rooting you back in your body. It was as if he was pressing gravity back onto you, pulling you back down into the room.

As he worked over you, trying to massage you out of arrhythmia, his eyes pinged between you and the monitor. You could feel your pump skittering behind your ribs, misbehaving. Resisting.

“My heart…” you croaked, finding your voice again.

He looked up and gave you a reassuring smile, arms rocking tirelessly against your torso. “I’ve got your heart. It’s going to beat when I tell it to. Nice and steady. It just needs a reminder.” His tone was so confident your fear melted away. Sliding your hands up to grasp his forearms, you let yourself fall into the trance of his rhythmic compressions, each one a sign of his dedication, a promise that he would keep you beating as you should. If you trusted your heart in the hands of any man, it was him. 

“You made me come too hard,” you managed to smirk, voice lurching under his motions.

He huffed a laugh but never let up. “Well, when I said I was going to fuck the life out of you, I didn’t mean literally.” His eyes scanned the ECG again then he gazed down at you. “Can you breathe alright?”

At this point you knew you could breathe just fine, but you were so overcome by his care that you wanted his lips on yours again.

“Help me.” 

Immediately he stopped compressions and laid atop you, pinching your nose and filling your lungs with his warm breath. You allowed your hands to trail across his shoulders as he made your chest rise against himself again and again, flooding you with his own vitality. Nothing compared to the feeling.

You were nearly dizzy as he pulled back and joined his hands over the red mark on your sternum. He pressed into you again. This time his movements were sharper, quicker, eyes locked on the monitor as if he were trying to outpace your erratic beats.

“That’s it, love. Come on.” He growled through gritted teeth. “Keep pumping for me. I know this heart is strong.” You laid helpless under his ministrations, willing your heart to follow his lead, swearing you could feel your chest wall brush against it under the thrust of his hands. You clung to his forearms again, feeling his own hammering pulse in his bulging veins. You closed your eyes, picturing his rhythm echoing into you; invisible waves of percussion emanating out of his chest and down through his arms to dictate the contractions of your muscle. In moments, the noises of the ECG faded away and you felt your body begin to relax.

“There you go,” he praised, a smile beginning to tug at his lips. “You’re starting to even out. Good girl.”

Those words always made you shudder. As he slowed compressions, you found yourself buzzing with arousal again. Each pump of your chest sent heat coursing down between your legs. The way he thrust you into the mattress over and over, so reminiscent of other carnal pursuits. When hearts were involved you were liable to get caught up in an endless loop of pleasure. Fucking to get each other’s hearts racing, then monitoring the outcome of your work and getting turned on all over again. An ouroboros of cardiophilic desire.

You watched as he kept bearing down on you, breathing heavily now, eyes roaming across your skin. He bit his bottom lip, murmuring to himself. “Fuck, what a good little heart, doing as I tell her. Beating right under my hands…�� 

Then he blinked, seeming to remember himself and finally let his arms fall slack. “Shit, I’m sorry, I was…I shouldn’t get turned on like that.” He rolled off of you and twisted away but you had already seen the fabric tenting between his legs. His face was full of apology and concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

You had never felt better. Thanks to his efforts you were more than stabilized, you were primed for sin again. Your heart was pounding for him, equal parts yearning and gratitude. You needed him to know. 

You pulled his hands back to your chest and pressed them into your skin. “Don’t stop.”

He looked bewildered for a moment. “You need more?” 

You nodded but suspected it was how you squirmed to rub your thighs together that telegraphed your true intent. Then he smiled that wolfish grin that always liquefied you and crawled back over you, dark eyes glinting. “You need me to crush your beautiful chest and keep your little beat machine going?”

“Yes,” you breathed, reveling in how the heel of his palm started to dig into your sternum.

“You want me to breathe for you? You want my air in your needy lungs?”

“Fuck, yes…please…” You whined but were cut off as his mouth suddenly engulfed yours, a strong gust of breath forcing its way in. You moaned as his tongue slid into you, a kiss of life and desire.

You were gasping again as he moved to rumble in your ear. “You need me to keep you alive while I fuck you tachycardic again?”

“Please…” Electricity shot down your spine, arching your body under his as you flooded. You wanted nothing more than for him to be your rescuer and lover simultaneously.

He stood and your ravenous heart doubled its speed as you watched him strip down again. Then he knelt on the bed, pushed your knees open and hauled you bodily across the sheets until your hips angled up against his thighs. He slid back into your swollen heat then interlocked his hands over your fluttering pump with a devilish smirk.

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

[littleheartbeat]

CPR in hospitals

I did a post on doing cpr as a 'civilian' (i.e. in public with no equipment). But most people who follow me are writers! So here's how it goes down in hospital.

It varies on where someone is in hospital having a cardiac arrest, so this is just for if a patient is in a hospital bed with monitoring on.

The first sign is going to the monitor going crazy and the patient unconscious.

Step 1 - pull the emergency button and start chest compressions (they are still the most important thing!)

Step 2 - someone else will give rescue 'breaths' using an oxygen mask and bag (technically called a bag valve mask or BVM). Two breaths after every 30 compressions

Step 3 - someone else is cutting clothes off and putting defibrillator pads on. An anaesthetist may also intubate the patient and put them on a ventilator (this means you can do compressions continuously)

Step 4 - the defibrillator will scan the heart rhythm. If it's shockable (ventricular tachycardia or fibrillation) then everyone steps away while it shocks. As soon as it's safe, CPR continues (most defibrillators determine the rhythm and calculate voltage automatically)

Step 5 - if it's a non-shockable rhythm, give IV adrenaline ASAP

Step 6 - if it's a shockable rhythm, wait 2 minutes after first shock, check and shock again. Repeat a third time.

Step 7 - if the patient is still in cardiac arrest after 3 shocks, give IV adrenaline and amiodarone

Step 8 - continue CPR and give adrenaline every 5 minutes.

The person giving compressions should switch every 60 compressions (two cycles of 30) - the next person is counted in so there's no time without compressions

There are 10 main causes of cardiac arrest - while all of this is happening a team of doctors will be trying to work out the cause so they can treat it. I won't go into the causes because it's boring and technical.

CPR, defibrillation, and drugs will continue until the cardiac arrest stops or the patient is declared deceased.

If someone is in hospital because of hypothermia, remember! They're not dead until they're warm! (there have been cases of hypothermia patients being successfully resuscitated after over 5 hours of CPR!)

[littleheartbeat]

ASK ME ANYTHING (Cardiophilia Version)

Leave one (or more~) of the Heart Icons below in my Ask Box, and I’ll answer:

❤️ Would you rather Steth or be Stethed?

💙 What’s your favorite kind of heartbeat?

💛 Have you ever heard your own heartbeat before?

🤎 How did you discover your Cardiophilia?

💚 Which celebrity’s heart would you love to listen to the most?

🧡 If you’re a creative type (artist, writer, etc.), does your Cardiophilia leak in to your creative process?

💜 Can I/we listen to your heartbeat?

🤍 Do you like to feel your heart beating?

🖤 Do you prefer to use a stethoscope or your ear to listen to your Cardiophile-Partner’s heart?

💔 Do you have any embarrassing heart-related moments?

💗 Do you pleasure yourself to your own heartbeat or someone else’s?

[littleheartbeat]

Every time I think I’m ready to come back, I or someone close to me has a medical emergency and I feel like it just sends me back after I’ve made progress :(((((

[littleheartbeat]

Hiya there!!!

I just wanted to drop in and say hi to everyone, and that I’m really sorry for dropping off the face of the earth like that. I’m especially sorry to those who popped into my DMs to say hi, and who went unanswered.

I’ve been handling the grief of an immediate family member of mine for the last few months now, and I’ve been struggling with managing. It’s been real tough for me. It’s been a bit tougher having to have that mental image of them in the hospital for days.

I’ve been going through it, but I’m managing. I hope you all have been doing well!!! Sorry again for dipping out. I’m going to try and be active a bit more soon 💖💖

[littleheartbeat]

Work Acquaintances

I usually only work at night, there’s me and the head of our IT department, Ari, who tells everyone they work at night because it’s easier to update the IT at night, but I know it’s because they want to bring their dog Rocco in. 

When I hired Ari I took a chance, they were a recently out of the military medic with a new IT degree and zero experience, they asked me to trust them, that that if I just allowed them to do their thing they will be the best employee I have ever had, and they were right. 

It wasn’t just the dog that brought Ari in late, I could tell how uncomfortable in crowded meetings they were, or how they always watched the door. Occasionally we’d meet in the halls and I could feel their anxiety, we developed a sort of system that involved me only going one way through the office and always sending a “leaving” message when I left for the night.

I was pretty sure that Ari and my secretary Cate were the only people in the company who knew that my heart was failing. I had been working here for about four years before I started showing signs. I went from being a marathon runner to someone who can only take the elevator. I had an episode once at work that resulted in everyone knowing, and then I got really good at hiding it. Eventually I bought out the owner and the company was mine. 

I tried to have a normal work schedule at first, but as we grew I faded more and more into the background, hiring people to do the daily things for me. At first I was in the office for a regular business day, then gradually I started coming in the afternoon and staying late, now I found it easier just to come in right before everyone leaves and work through the night. It made much less of a stir using supplemental oxygen while reviewing outreach data when it was just a few people there. And I could take calls while sitting with my swollen feet propped on the file cabinet next to my desk, deep purplish lines indented them from the heels I wore every day. 

Which is exactly where I am right now. I’ve gotten gradually weaker over time but my heart was still remarkably well functioning and I had avoided. most major medical interventions. I wear very tight compression stockings and a compressing body suit under my button up shirt, suit jacket, and pencil skirt. Because I have so many layers I can wear. fun bright underwear since it won’t show. 

Rocco the dog is visiting me for the baby carrots I keep in my office when I feel a tear in my chest. I sit up and am hit with a wave of nausea. I get out of my chair and try to yell for help but can only manage a loud groan. 

Moments later Ari comes to my door and doesn’t waste a moment before kneeling beside me. They gently mutter words of comfort while holding my wrist and digging their fingers into my neck to find my pulses. I am trying unsuccessfully to suck in as much of the oxygen that I can but it is not enough, it’s never enough, I feel like I will never get enough air.

Ari leans down over me “I need to give you some rescue breaths okay?” I try to nod yes but my entire body has seized up at this point and can only try to bring in air. As I’m laying on my side Ari gently tilts my head back, pinches my nose shut, covers my mouth with theirs, and breaths two deep, hot air into my starving lungs. They put their hand on my chest and quietly say “that’s it, just breathe” before doing it again. I lose track of how many times we do this before my lungs are finally calm enough to breathe on my own. 

Ari gets up and asks if I have a medical kit, I try to talk but Ari silences me, I can’t even move my hands to point, I weakly look at the cabinet under my bookshelf and Ari understands. They open it up and slide the large equipment box over towards my crumpled heap on the floor. 

The first thing they pull out is a high-flow non-rebreather mask. They gently lift my head and slip it over my face. “There we go, just take some deep breaths okay?” After every command they sit with me, make sure I can do it, reassure me. They tell me everything they are going to do before they do it. 

I imagine a life. before this, where Ari was a military medic who just wanted to help people, how empathy and compassion burned them out hard and fast, and I realize they must have been an excellent medic. 

“I need to get this top off so I can listen to your heart okay? Do you think you can help me do that?” 

I try to lift my arms up, to unfurl from this tight ball my body has gone into around my failing heart, but the moment i do a crushing pain goes through my chest forcing me into a tighter ball. 

“Woah, okay, let’s take it easy okay? I’m going to cut it up the back okay?” 

I feel scissors trace up my spine before the tight compression on my chest releases. It feels like it was the only thing keeping my ribs from splitting apart and the pain is unbearable. I lose all sense of vision, there’s a high pitched ringing in my ears, all I can smell is a metallic tinge. 

I come to slightly and am aware of a cold stethoscope on my back and someone moaning. I realize the person moaning is me, it’s involuntary. I try to control my reactions and focus on Ari gently saying “I’m so sorry I know this must hurt I am going to help you okay?” 

I notice Ari has connected the cardiac monitor that usually sits above my hip under my compression garments up to my computer screen and is watching the series of lines and numbers intensely but I can’t move my head to see them. I feel a warm, reassuring hand on my naked back.

Ari connects a small tube to the port in my chest and I feel a cold sensation rush through it as she flushes it out. “You have something in here for the pain, I’m going to give you that now okay.” 

A warmth soon spreads through my body, but I can feel how slow and jagged it is, my heart is in arrhythmia I can feel it. The pain slowly ebbs gently down but not away, just less sharp. 

“I need to put you on your back now okay, I’m going to do it really gently but I need you to let me because it’s very important that I can access your chest okay.” 

The drugs take over and relax my body enough for Ari to gently roll me onto my back. They immediately wrap a blood pressure cuff around my arm and put a stethoscope to my chest. 

“I need to cut off your nylons okay” 

The pain from my chest now freely radiates all the way down to my toes but I’m too sedated to do anything other than quietly moan. Ari puts their hand on my chest. “It’s going to be okay, I’m going to take care of you” 

I feel the blood pressure cuff squeeze my arm tightly and release as the unit beeps in alarm. 

“Your blood pressure is really low and I think you need a procedure on your heart, I am going to call an ambulance.” 

I can’t respond but I want to beg them not to leave me. 

Ari leans over me again and gently says “I need to give you medicine to bring your blood pressure up but your heart is not beating efficiently enough to get it through your system. I need to do compressions on your chest, I cannot give you anything for pain I’m so so sorry.” 

They kneel next to me and say “I need to cut your bra off, it is going to interfere with the compressions.” 

I am paralyzed from drugs, pain, and anticipatory pain and don’t respond as a pair of scissors snip the blue piece of fabric between my breasts. Ari professionally snips the straps to allow the cups to cover my breasts for modestly. 

As if modesty matters once Ari digs their palm into the valley between my breasts and starts one-handed compressions. firmly forcing my heart to be more efficient, the cups gently covering my breasts almost immediately fall off and I am completely exposed as Ari meticulously digs into my chest over and over again. 

They stop to look at the monitors. “I’m going to give you something for pain, I am going to have to shock you okay, it is going to be very painful still but I have no other choice. 

They push another round of something into my port and kneels over me, giving me compressions with both hands interlocked over my chest. I feel the violent thrust force my blood through me and eventually circulate the sedative enough for me to not feel the cold AED pads being placed over my right breast and on my side under my left breast. 

Knowing that anticipatory pain is almost worst than actual pain Ari does not tell me that the shock is coming, they just shock. 

Volts of energy shoot through my chest and I feel like I’ve been shot. The sound is like two cars crashing together, the light is blinding, and the pain is indescribable. 

“I’m so sorry, you did it, that was great, I’m so so sorry” 

Another jolt goes through me, I cannot open my eyes or take a breath. I feel Ari’s mouth over mine as I take in their hot breath again. 

“Just stay with me okay”

Another jolt and everything goes black. my chest is being pounded on repeatedly and, despite my lack of consciousness they’re still talking to me. 

“Just stay with me okay, we’re going to get you to a hospital.” 

I start to hear the exhaustion in their voice as they give me two more breaths and start again. 

“Yes, we’re back here” I hear Ari say “She’s asytolic, I need someone to take over compressions.” 

[littleheartbeat]

Just Wondering

I am kind of curious if anyone shares this thought. 

Something I always wanted to do. Just to forget about breathing for a while and relax. Have a role-play partner or partner take over breathing for me for several minutes or so, either by Mouth to Mouth or using Ambu Bag on me. When my partner is done and they want we could switch roles. I breathe for them for as long as they want.

I like the feeling of my lungs filling up with air and my chest rising. I like the sound of when my partner blowing air into my mouth and the sound of me exhaling when air is leaving my lungs. I equally like the sound of my partner squeezing the Ambu bag filling my lungs with air, and when you exhale air leaves your lungs and the bag fills back up for air.

I know this is risky. The only way to do this safely would be in a medical facility with trained personnel, and it probably goes against every medical protocol. I know it will probably be a forever fantasy. This probably will never be done in real life. I have always wanted to be intubated while conscious. With someone using an Ambu Bag or being hooked up to a Ventilator. I have always wanted to know what that feels like. 

[littleheartbeat]

Honestly I almost didn't post this because it's embarrassingly self indulgent and I was just really needy and resus horny when I wrote it. But for the 4 of you who might like it... might finish it later

..........

I laid back on our bed, my legs hanging over the side, wearing nothing but your favorite lace lingerie top. I wanted to fulfill your fantasy as much as my own. My chest heaved up and down as I hyperventilated. I wanted to last as long as I could for both of us

You stood in front of me wearing my favorite lingerie of yours. You looked so sexy I wanted to just pull you down right then. You were pressed in between my legs, leaning down over me, you kissed me deeply.

"I love you so much" I heard you say. For some reason your words made this so much more real. We were really going to do this huh?

We had both enthusiastically agreed to this. We were both confident you'd be able to save me. I trusted you and you trusted me. But my stomach still knotted and my heart raced nervously as you placed the firm dark red cherry to my lips.

"Deep breath love" your voice was sultry and low, but I could hear a slight shakiness to it. Were you as scared then as I was?

Yes, I was afraid, and anxious, but more than all of that, I was excited and more turned on than I'd ever been. I'd never wanted something more I thought.

I inhaled deeply as the small fruit rolled on my tongue. I wasn't sure if choking on purpose would be difficult. I let it fall to the back of my throat as I sucked in the last little bit of air that would fit in my lungs. But down it went, sucked into my airway, easily, lodging tightly in the tiny passage.

I made a quiet, slurping gulp followed by silence as my eyes widened. My sinus imediatrly triggers my eyes to water. The cherry was large, bulging visibly in my throat. It hurt, felt as if I'd swallowed a blade as I tried to cough, to inhale, to exhale.

Nothing. No air.

"Can you breathe baby?" You sounded almost teasing.

I frantically shook my head "no". I was full on, real life choking. It was what we planned, but my body instinctively began to panic. the immense arousal I felt, battled with the overwhelming anxiety that was bubbling up in me. My heart was pounding wildly, I could feel it in my chest and i was sure you could see it. I watched your eyes widen and darken as you watched me struggle to inhale. You were practically drooling with lust.

I gripped my throat, my back arching up off of the bed. I wrapped my legs around your ass, holding you closer and you pressed yourself between my them, rubbing up against me. I fisted my hands against my bare abdomen and began thrusting into my diaphragm. It hadn't been long at all but I already felt as if my chest would burst.

You were still watching me trying to give myself the heimlich. I slapped the bed, trying to tell you I couldn't wait any longer. That I needed you. Thank goodness you listened. You grabbed me by the hips, pulling me closer. The contact increased against my center and I would've moaned in pleasure if I could have.

You leaned down, resting your palms against my belly just bellow my ribs "Hang on love. I got you. I'm going to help you breathe" you whispered to me.

Suddenly you shoved your interlocked hands down into me, painfully pushing my diaphragm up into my lungs. My eyes rolled back then slammed shut at the force. It hurt but it also felt good and I nearly came right then. You were so much stronger and your abdominal thrusts drastically more powerful with your weight behind them. I could feel my lungs squeeze, the pressure building in my chest.

"Breathe" you urged. I could tell you were still holding back a little. My mouth moved wordlessly as I begged for help. Even so, I could tell you were getting worried. Your brows knit together and you kissed me as I breathlessly fought for air.

I felt my cheek round out, expanding as you pinched my nose and attempted to give me mouth to mouth. Of course nothing was making it around the cherry that had stolen my breath.

My chest shuddered and hitched, it was too much. It burned and my fingers twitched as I felt dizzy and lightheaded. My mouth gaped, trying to suck in air that was so far out of my reach. My red face was turning purple.

I was suddenly rolled onto my belly and yanked up by my waist. Your balled hands jerked backwards, lifting me up and slamming me against your chest. I barely registered what was happening before you did it again. And again. And again. Everything felt like it had shifted to slow motion, I could feel your soft breasts, nearly bare against my back, being squeezed against my skin, we were both covered in sweat and your hands gripped for purchase. I could feel your warm breath at my ear begging me to "breathe" and "Cough it up" you had moved one leg to kneel between my legs on the bed, and I was bounced against it, leaving your smooth thigh slick as my center and clit were rubbed up and down against you.

I doubled over, gripping the comforter as saliva dripped down to the bed. You had stopped holding back long ago but the cherry wasn't moving. I had never needed anything the way I needed air right then. My arms were growing so weak they couldn't hold my weight and I dropped face down as you continued to give me the heimlich. The new angle thrust against my clit and I came harder than I ever had, my body convulsing and trembling as the burning throb in my lungs and my pussy consumed my whole being. I saw litteral stars dance in my vision. And then i couldn't move. My arms were too heavy and my face was too hot. And the pain in my lungs seemed to hit its peak. And then the pulsing heat gave way to cold darkness as my vision tunneled to black.

[littleheartbeat]

A DELIBERATE ARREST...

The 'doctor' entered her room wielding his stethoscope. She'd not seen him before but, after her emergency life-saving surgery and the resulting post-op cardiac issues, she'd had so many different doctors peering over her she thought nothing of it.

Even when he started closely examining her weak little pump without saying a word, she still thought nothing of it. His steth roaming all over her chest, his fingers rudely pressing into all of her pulse points.... his hand pressed hard just under her left breast, so hard that she could actually feel her heart beating against his palm.

But then.... what was that? It sounded like a little grunt under his breath, right as he manually felt her heartbeat. Surely not. Must be all the drugs distorting her senses.

"I want to feel you arrest" whispered a low, sinister voice in her ear.

Except, no it couldn't have. She really must be more affected by the cocktail of post-surgery drugs than she thought.

But then.... "I want your heart to stop beating.... I NEED you to cardiac arrest" came the same calm yet menacing whisper.

Suddenly the hand over her heart began to press infinitely more firmly down into her chest, the sheer force of his weight restricting the movement of her already weakened heart. 'What the fuck.... ' she began to ask her herself, as a second hand slid around her throat and began squeezing.

"I'm going to stop your heart beating sweetheart' he growled, his hand now gripping her neck so tight she could feel her carotid pulses throbbing wildly against his fingertips.

"There's nothing you can do about it, so just give in - the sooner you arrest, the sooner I can resuscitate that precious little heart of yours...."

[littleheartbeat]

Hi! Just a quick post to say my main resus-girl account is currently out of action - am hoping to get it back but who knows 🤷‍♀️

Thank you to those who had noticed and had messaged me on here - all is fine, it was Tumblr not me that deactivated it (and I've no idea why, there's been no email explaining). But luckily I still have this account so I'll be using this one from now on :)

(And if a few of you wouldn't mind reblogging this just to help me find a few resus-girl followers who don't follow this one, that would be much appreciated 💕)

[littleheartbeat]

Resus thought of the day: Breath play gone wrong. Being choked but both are so into it you accidentally get choked out. After they realize what they did they throw you off the bed and start deep and fast compressions.

[littleheartbeat]

Hi there!! I’m littleheartbeat, but you can call me Casey! I go by she/they, I’m 23, and I’m pretty new to the community!!

I just wanna say hi and introduce myself. I’m really anxious to be here, but I’d like to step out and make an attempt to say hi! So, hi, everyone! 💖💖