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cometmercy-blog · 27 days ago

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Second Dose (Chapter 3 of 4)

The bedroom door slammed behind them, a reverberating echo that sealed them inside a space where time compressed and pulses amplified. The sound was no mere closure; it was a command, a declaration—a detonator releasing the potent charge simmering in the narrow space between them. Carmella’s breath caught, sharp and shallow, as her gaze sharpened with crystalline intensity.

Her fingers curled tightly around the black tubing of her new stethoscope, its cool weight both weapon and talisman. With ruthless economy of movement, one hand found the fabric of Audrey’s dress—sapphire silk stretched taut and shimmering in the dim light—and peeled it down, dragging it past shoulders, tracing the graceful line of clavicles, slipping lower to reveal the fire beneath. The material fell like water slipping through fingers, pooling at Audrey’s feet beside the slender heels that anchored her stance. The action was clinical, swift, deliberate—domination enacted with elegant precision.

Audrey stood utterly exposed now, clad only in a whisper-thin pair of panties that clung to her skin like a promise, and those defiant custom high heels that elongated every curve. The warm illumination bled along the contours of bronzed flesh, the constellation of freckles etched like constellations across the hills and valleys of muscle and sinew. Her chest rose and fell, a metronome to Carmella’s accelerating heart, her neck long and lithe beneath the cool kiss of air.

The silence throbbed with anticipation as Carmella’s free hand moved deftly to lift the stethoscope’s earpieces, sliding them firmly into her ears—the familiar click an anchor amid the flood of sensation. The cold disc of polished metal hovered momentarily between her fingers before she pressed it without hesitation against the tender valley nestled between Audrey’s breasts. The contrast was electric: the icy hardness of the chest piece set against the pulsing warmth beneath, a conduit between physiology and desire.

A rush of sound exploded into Carmella’s ears—the fierce, rapid pounding of Audrey’s heart thrumming like a wild beast trapped beneath skin. The raw, insistent beat battered relentlessly at the edges of reason and restraint. The rhythm measured and precise, yet overwhelmingly alive: 165 beats per minute. Faster than any numbers recorded the day before during the stress tests, a cadence of exalted exertion and imminent surrender.

Carmella’s eyes flicked rapidly between the heaving swell of Audrey’s chest and the flushed, breathless face that met hers with unguarded intensity. The green depths of those eyes shimmered with fire and wetness, cheeks flushed as if ignited from within by some potent alchemy. She traced the delicate line where sweat beaded along the curve of Audrey’s neck, a glistening tribute to heat rising unabated.

Time fragmented, the air thick with charged silence until Audrey’s hand moved—a slow, deliberate slide from the curve of her hip upward, fingers curling toward the forbidden terrain. The motion was raw need made visible, a tentative claim birthed from a storm barely contained. But before the hand could traverse further, Carmella’s grasp descended with iron certainty, fingers closing firmly but not unkindly around the wrist, halting the advance.

Her breath, heavy and wet, brushed against Audrey’s ear as she leaned in close, voice lowered to a rough, intimate whisper. “I’m the one who’s going to make this big, beautiful heart of yours pump extra hard inside your chest,” she declared, each word a sharp strike, each syllable weighted with promise and power, “because I’m going to shove my fingers in and out your pussy until you cum all over my bedroom floor.”

The command ignited a shudder deep in Audrey’s core, and for a heartbeat the fierce rhythm betrayed itself—a violent, erratic skip that rippled like a tempest through the stethoscope’s delicate tubing. Carmella heard the faltering beat—a violent pause, a stuttering erraticness that shook her ears and set her nerves ablaze. The irregular pattern sang a savage aria of desire and surrender, an exquisite dissonance that cracked the fragile shell of control with relentless force.

Audrey’s body tensed beneath the unyielding contact, breath hitching, pupils dilating wide behind the sudden haze of wetness. The exposed skin beneath Carmella’s hand pulsed like a drum vibrating with invisible electric currents. That wild, skipping heartbeat folded into the charged space, a violent declaration of their collision—the clinical measure shattered by the fierce intimacy that claimed them whole.

For the first time, Carmella truly felt the fusion of her two worlds: the exacting science of the heart’s fierce engine and the raw, unvarnished heat of untamed hunger. The heavy press of metal against skin, the slam of the door, the firm grip on the wrist, the whispered promise of conquest—they melded into a symphony of sensation as Carmella’s breath caught and deepened, heart syncing to the wild tempo thundering beneath her fingertips.

In that charged stillness, desire became an undeniable force, raw and suffocating—an urgent tide that no measured restraint could stem. Carmella’s lips twitched with the cruelest, sweetest triumph. The night was only beginning, and already, Audrey’s heart was hers to command.

The thudding irregularities dancing through the stethoscope sent a ripple of electric heat through Carmella’s veins—heart skips and premature contractions that no calculated protocol had predicted. These erratic beats, absent from the controlled confines of yesterday’s treadmill and Adenosine tests, were an exhilarating disruption—an uncharted territory mapping the delicate border between science and raw, animalistic response. The room held its breath, time constricting in the taut beat between wildness and control.

With a breath that trembled between command and surrender, Carmella ripped the fabric of her pristine lab coat. The garment peeled away like a second skin falling to the gleaming floor, revealing a body sculpted in unyielding discipline. Bare and unapologetically bare, she stood clad only in the lethal arch of her stiletto heels—shadows tracing the long lines of lean muscles, curves carved by unyielding will and the fires of desire. The glint of cold metal on her stethoscope caught the muted light, a counterpoint to the soft, pale warmth radiating from her flesh.

Audrey’s breath hitched, an instant shift flooding her face from pleasure to raw, ravenous hunger. Her emerald eyes widened, pupils swallowing the dim light as she took in the sight of Carmella’s exposed form—defiant and commanding, a living masterpiece that dared devotion. A low exhalation slipped from her lips, a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a growl, signaling the sharp rise in heat that rolled through her veins like wildfire.

The pulse at Audrey’s throat quickened again, soaring—180 beats per minute—a wild crescendo in the symphony of their intertwined bodies. The heartbeat hammered against ribs, a fierce tattoo that shaped the air between them with undeniable momentum.

Their lips collided, slow and inevitable—a fierce convergence that marked a surrender to need and passion. The kiss deepened with mounting urgency, tongues weaving a savage dialogue of desire and surrender. Five minutes stretched in perfect, searing torment—a fevered baptism of shared breath, slick warmth, and heartbeats pounding in desperate tandem. Carmella’s hands traced every plane of Audrey’s back and sides, nails skimming soft flesh, while Audrey’s fingers tangled in Carmella’s hair, clutching with primal insistence.

Skin slick with the mingling of sweat and longing glistened beneath the dim lights, every shudder and shift reverberating through muscle and bone. Their bodies pressed tighter, curves meeting with fierce intent—the familiar pulse of Carmella’s stethoscope thrumming like a tether to the world they held suspended between rawness and precision.

When lips finally parted, breaths heavy and shuddered, their faces flushed with the fire of exertion and unshed confessions, Carmella did not release the precious instrument. Instead, her fingers curled, bold and commanding, and pressed into the slick heat of Audrey’s panties with resolute purpose. Two fingers slid with slow intent, navigating the slick folds with expert precision as Carmella maintained the gentle but firm pressure of the stethoscope against Audrey’s rising chest.

Audrey’s heart shifted into violent chaos beneath the metal disk—beats ragged and wild, bursting in erratic surges and jolting skips that rippled through the sensitive membrane of the device. The pounding drummed louder, erratic and relentless, an intoxicating soundtrack to the intimate torment they wove.

“The sound of your heart pumping in my ears is so amazing!” Carmella breathed, voice rough with wonder and desire. “When will you cum for me, Audrey?!”

Audrey’s eyes rolled back in exquisite release, breath hitching into ragged gasps, each inhalation a shuddering tide that seemed to fracture the space between them. Her muscles clenched, body coiling and releasing with furious intent beneath Carmella’s relentless fingers, the violent crescendo of the erratic heartbeat pushing them into territory where science bent to the wild art of flesh and fire.

They moved as one—doctor and subject, dominator and surrenderer—in a fierce communion carried on waves of ecstatic disorder, the heartbeat skipping, stammering, shuddering, a potent pulse underscoring the undeniable truth that here, within this dim chamber, control was absolute, and surrender was sovereign.

Carmella’s eyes traced the stunning transformations unfolding beneath her touch: Audrey’s respiratory rate escalated sharply, breaths quick and shallow as if each inhale fed a growing flame within. The delicate swell of her ribcage rose and fell with uneven urgency, lungs working overtime to feed a body ignited with feverish desire. Carmella noted the faint sheen of sweat slicking the skin, each glistening drop catching the muted light like scattered stars illuminating the tempestuous landscape.

Her fingers, steady yet merciless, glided and pressed, inciting the lithe muscles beneath to clench in rapid, disciplined response. Audrey’s pupils dilated until the irises seemed swallowed by pools of darkness—an unguarded, primal signal that tugged mercilessly at the threads of restraint. A deep blush seeped across the pale curve of her chest, spreading tendrils of heat up to the hollow at her throat and down the long length of arms that coiled and flexed beneath Carmella’s command.

The stethoscope’s metal disc nestled against the flush of warm skin served as a conduit for every shuddering pulse. Each heartbeat slammed and roared like a thunderclap pressed to Carmella’s palm—a relentless barrage that sent low vibrations rippling up her arm. The cacophony beneath the skin was a symphony of raw power and vulnerability, a living instrument striking chords of fevered anticipation and exquisite torment.

Carmella’s breath caught as she felt the subtle tightening of muscles curling reflexively around her fingers—an unspoken covenant of surrender that surged in tandem with the pounding drums in her chest. “Now’s the time to cum for me, Audrey,” she commanded with low authority, voice thick and primal, as her fingers pushed deeper, probing, exploring the heat and slickness with unwavering intensity.

The response was instantaneous and overwhelming: Audrey’s body convulsed with shuddering force, a white, viscous torrent erupting from her depths and spilling across Carmella’s floor with abandon. Her legs trembled violently, buckling and quaking as every nerve ignited into a ferocious blaze. The heartbeat escalated wildly—spiking to a frenzied 190 beats per minute before crashing into a disordered rhythm punctuated by violent, irregular skips.

Audrey’s breath cascaded into ragged hyperventilation, chest heaving as her body struggled to recalibrate from the ecstatic tempest. The erratic drumming in Carmella’s ears was a siren call of both danger and awe, the subtle contractions of the cardiac muscle creating Premature Ventricular Contractions that shattered the steady beat with unpredictable jolts and skips.

“What are these Premature Ventricular Contractions I’m hearing!” Carmella exclaimed with a mixture of clinical fascination and stunned admiration. “Audrey, you’re such an incredible specimen!”

Caught between overwhelming desire and scientific marvel, Carmella’s fingers trembled with need. The weight of suppressed yearning broke, and she abandoned herself to frantic exploration—fingers spiraling rapidly in rhythm with the tumultuous soundtrack of heartbeats she wore as a chorus in her ears. Her breath shuddered, lips parting in silent release as she plunged toward her own apex, the climax a wild pulse bursting forth amid the chaos.

Their combined fluids pooled into mingling puddles on the once-pristine floor, a physical testament to the intensity of their collision—the surrender and control, the science and the lust entwined in the sanctity of shared vulnerability.

As their bodies slowly began to settle, breaths evening and muscles releasing taut tension, Carmella’s gaze softened. The clinical edge lingered, but beneath it lay an irrevocable bond forged in the crucible of ecstasy and exploration.

Two women, awash in the lingering warmth and echoing pulse of that fierce encounter—bodies and hearts aligned, learning the limits and boundless depths of a rhythm they would never forget.

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cometmercy-blog · 27 days ago

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First Sight (Chapter 1 of 7)

The elevator doors parted with a soft chime, and Dr. Carmella Hill stepped into the hushed domain of her Manhattan cardiology clinic. Her short brown hair with perfectly trimmed bangs framed her face with geometric precision, not a strand out of place despite the morning wind.

Her designer prescription glasses caught the light as she surveyed her territory, the kingdom of clean lines and medical excellence she had built through years of obsessive dedication. Her shoulders squared beneath the pristine white lab coat, its crisp edges a stark contrast to the troubled thoughts that had followed her from home. Six floors above the frenetic energy of Midtown, the clinic was a sanctuary of order.

Morning light streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the reception area where her staff would arrive in precisely forty-two minutes. Carmella preferred these solitary moments before the day began in earnest, when she could lose herself in the ceremony of preparation without watchful eyes or needless conversation.

Her heels clicked against the polished floor, each step an echo of purpose. She unlocked her office door with practiced efficiency, the lock yielding with a satisfying click. Inside, the space was a testament to her exacting standards—diploma and certifications arranged in perfect alignment on the walls, medical journals stacked at right angles on the glass desk, not a single item out of place.

She placed her leather bag in the same spot she did every morning, the corner of the desk nearest the window, its placement a ritual as important as any surgical procedure. From it, she withdrew her personal stethoscope, the weight of it familiar in her hands. It was the latest model, more expensive than necessary, but Carmella demanded excellence in all things, especially those that touched her patients.

The instrument gleamed under the overhead lights as she polished it with a microfiber cloth, her movements deliberate and reverent. Her fingers lingered on the chest piece, tracing its perfect circumference with an attention that transcended mere professional care.

She felt a flutter in her abdomen, a quickening of her pulse that had nothing to do with the morning's exertion and everything to do with what this instrument allowed her to hear—the most intimate rhythm of life itself.

She placed the stethoscope around her neck, adjusting it with unusual deliberation. The cool metal settled against her skin, and she closed her eyes briefly, savoring the sensation. When she opened them again, her reflection in the small desk mirror caught her attention, and she paused to study herself.

The woman who stared back was the picture of professional composure—high cheekbones accentuated by the angles of her glasses, lips pressed into a disciplined line. But beneath the clinical detachment, she recognized the telltale signs of her private fascination: the slight dilation of her pupils, the faint flush along her collarbanes.

Carmella shrugged off her lab coat and hung it temporarily, taking a moment to assess her physical form in the full-length mirror on the back of her door. Years of rigorous dedication to fitness had sculpted her body into something extraordinary. Her silk blouse clung to her large breasts, their perfect roundness defying gravity with the help of an expensive, architectural bra. The tailored slacks sat low on her hips, revealing the ridges of her enviable six-pack abs when she turned to the side.

She flexed slightly, watching the definition of her muscular thighs press against the fine fabric. The body was a machine, she reminded herself. Her own was simply better maintained than most. Still, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride at the exceptional vessel she had crafted through unrelenting discipline.

She donned her lab coat again, the white garment settling over her curves with professional neutrality, though it did little to conceal the remarkable physicality beneath. One by one, she checked each examination room, arranging instruments with obsessive precision. Blood pressure cuffs were coiled with mathematical exactness, cotton swabs aligned in perfect rows, vials organized by size and purpose.

In the central examination room, she paused, her attention caught by the gleaming array of cardiac monitoring equipment. Her fingers skimmed across the surface of the ECG machine, the metal cool against her skin. Her practice had the most advanced technology available, allowing her to capture every nuance of the heart's electrical activity, to see on screen what she could hear through her stethoscope.

She moved to her desk and pulled the day's patient files, spreading them before her in a fan of medical histories and heart conditions. Each folder was color-coded, the contents arranged according to her exacting specifications. She reviewed them methodically, committing key details to memory, noting the two new referrals and their symptoms with particular interest.

The first was a thirty-four-year-old woman with complaints of occasional palpitations during exercise. Carmella studied the preliminary notes, her mind already constructing a sequence of tests to isolate the cause. Her fingers traced the lines of the intake form, lingering on the patient's age and described symptoms. She anticipated the examination with a sharpness that was both professional and something more—an interest that went beyond clinical curiosity.

She returned the stethoscope to her neck, adjusting it once more with precise attention. The weight of it was reassuring, a connection to the rhythm she would soon hear, measure, analyze. She ran her fingertips along the tubing, the sensation triggering a memory of yesterday's examination—the cadence of a particular heartbeat that had stayed with her, replaying in her mind as she had lain awake last night.

The clinic remained silent around her as she completed her preparations. She set out the day's schedule, checked the calibration of the blood pressure monitor, and made one final adjustment to the arrangement of instruments on the examination tray. Each action was performed with meticulous attention, her body moving through the space with the confidence of absolute ownership.

Finally, she stood before the mirror once more, checking her appearance with critical eyes. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and straightened the lapels of her lab coat. The stethoscope hung precisely centered, the silver chest piece catching the light. Her hand rose to it, fingers closing around the metal in a gesture that was almost protective.

Carmella drew a deep breath, tasting the antiseptic cleanness of the air. She was ready for the day, her professional armor intact, her personal fascinations safely concealed beneath layers of clinical expertise. She glanced at her watch—seven minutes until her receptionist would arrive, twenty-three until the first patient.

The day would unfold with the precision she demanded, each heartbeat she listened to cataloged and analyzed with scientific detachment. But beneath the sterile surface of her professionalism, beneath the controlled rhythm of her own heartbeat, ran a current of something unruly and demanding—a fascination with the pulse of life that transcended medical interest and veered into territory more complex, more consuming.

The stethoscope rested against her chest, a constant reminder of the sound she sought, the rhythm that obsessed her. Her fingers brushed against it once more, an unconscious gesture of anticipation, before she turned to her desk to await the arrival of her staff and the day's first heartbeat.

The examination room was a testament to minimalist luxury, all clean lines and subdued tones. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline—a vista that patients often found distracting enough to momentarily forget their cardiac concerns.

Carmella appreciated this effect; a relaxed patient yielded more accurate readings. She arranged the instruments on the silver tray with methodical precision, each item placed at the exact angle she preferred, the metal surfaces gleaming under the recessed lighting. The scent of antiseptic hung in the air, sharp and clean, a counterpoint to the faint trace of the patient's perfume that had entered the room before her.

Ms. Chen sat on the edge of the examination table, her silk blouse unbuttoned just enough to allow access for the stethoscope. Early thirties, Carmella estimated, with the lean physique of someone who exercised regularly but not obsessively. Her dark hair fell in an elegant bob that framed an oval face with high cheekbones.

The referral note mentioned occasional heart palpitations during her morning runs, nothing that seemed particularly concerning on paper, but Carmella never dismissed cardiac symptoms, no matter how minor. "So you've been experiencing these palpitations for about three weeks?" Carmella kept her voice professionally neutral as she reviewed the intake form, her eyes scanning the notes with practiced efficiency.

"Yes, usually about ten minutes into my run." Ms. Chen's voice was melodic, with the slight rasp of someone who enjoyed the occasional cigarette despite knowing better. "It's probably nothing, but my GP thought I should see a specialist."

"Palpitations are always worth investigating," Carmella replied, setting down the chart. She moved to the sink and washed her hands with meticulous attention, counting silently as she always did—twenty seconds exactly, no more, no less.

"Even if they turn out to be benign, which is often the case." She dried her hands on a paper towel and turned back to Ms. Chen, her professional mask firmly in place. "I'm going to take your vitals first, then listen to your heart in various positions to see if we can identify any irregularities."

The preliminary checks proceeded with clinical precision. Blood pressure: 118/76. Pulse: 72 beats per minute, regular. Oxygen saturation: 99%. All textbook normal. Carmella noted each value in the chart, her handwriting as precise as her methodology. "Now I'll need to listen to your heart," she said, reaching for the stethoscope that hung around her neck.

Her fingers closed around the chest piece, the metal warming beneath her touch. A subtle flutter stirred in her stomach, a physical anticipation she acknowledged and then attempted to suppress. This was a medical procedure, nothing more. "Could you unbutton your blouse a bit further, please? I need access to several listening points."

Ms. Chen complied without hesitation, the silk parting to reveal a lace-trimmed camisole beneath. Carmella kept her gaze clinical, focused on the anatomical landmarks that would guide her examination, not on the swell of the woman's breasts or the delicate hollow of her throat where a pulse visibly fluttered.

"This might be a bit cold," she warned, a standard phrase that fell from her lips automatically as she placed the stethoscope's disc against Ms. Chen's chest, just to the right of her sternum.

The first heart sound filled Carmella's ears—a clean, strong "lub" followed by the softer "dub" of the closing valves. The rhythm was like a well-conducted orchestra, each beat precise and distinct. Carmella felt her own pulse quicken in response, a pavlovian reaction to the intimate sound. She closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to focus entirely on the auditory input.

Ms. Chen's heartbeat was remarkably clear, unusually so. Each component of the cardiac cycle resonated with crystal clarity through the stethoscope's earpieces. Carmella detected no murmurs, no extra sounds, just the pure, perfect rhythm of a healthy heart pushing blood through its chambers with textbook efficiency. She moved the stethoscope incrementally, tracking across the chest to the next auscultation point.

Ms. Chen's skin was warm beneath the cold metal disc, the contrast sending a nearly imperceptible shiver through Carmella's fingers. She noted the patient's even breathing, the slight rise and fall of her chest beneath the stethoscope, a counterpoint to the heart's rhythm.

"Deep breath in, please," Carmella instructed, her voice betraying none of the inappropriate fascination building within her. As Ms. Chen inhaled, her heart rate increased slightly, accelerating in response to the expanded lung capacity. Carmella listened intently, caught in the peculiar intimacy of the moment—privy to the most internal rhythm of another human being, a sound that the woman herself could never hear with such clarity.

Carmella's pupils dilated behind her designer glasses, the clinical part of her brain registering this physiological response even as she continued the examination. Her own breathing had subtly shifted, synchronizing with the patient's unconsciously. The examination room, with its panoramic view and pristine surfaces, seemed to recede, leaving only the connection between her ears and the pulsing heart beneath her hand.

She lingered longer than strictly necessary at the mitral area, telling herself she was being thorough, searching for any hint of a murmur or irregularity. In truth, she was savoring the sound, storing it in her memory like a collector acquiring a particularly fine specimen. Each heartbeat resonated through her, sparking an interest that was far from professional.

"Now I'll need you to lie back," she said, her voice steady despite the inappropriate warmth spreading through her core. "I want to listen with you in a supine position." As Ms. Chen reclined on the examination table, Carmella repositioned the stethoscope, pressing it perhaps a fraction more firmly than required against the soft skin.

The change in position altered the heart sounds slightly, bringing the S3 into clearer focus—that subtle, low-frequency extra sound that followed the main "lub-dub" in some patients. Not a pathological finding in a young, fit woman like Ms. Chen, but its presence added another layer of complexity to the cardiac symphony that now filled Carmella's consciousness.

Time seemed to stretch as she listened, her professional detachment slipping further with each beat. Her hand rested on the examination table beside Ms. Chen's shoulder, and she noticed with distant alarm that her fingers trembled slightly. She curled them into a loose fist, concealing the evidence of her unprofessional response.

"Everything sounds normal so far," she managed, her voice clinical despite the heat that had crept up her neck to flush her cheeks. She hoped the patient would attribute any redness to the room's temperature. "But I'd like to check one more position. Could you turn onto your left side, please?"

Ms. Chen complied, her movements causing a momentary interruption in the cardiac soundtrack. Carmella waited, stethoscope poised, for the woman to settle. When she placed the disc back against skin, the heart sounds were at their most audible, the left lateral position bringing the organ closest to the chest wall.

The beat filled her ears, strong and insistent, and Carmella closed her eyes again, fully absorbed in the forbidden pleasure of listening. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a perilous moment, she feared the patient might notice her inappropriate reaction. But Ms. Chen lay still, eyes fixed on the ceiling, perfectly unaware of the storm brewing within her cardiologist.

With tremendous effort, Carmella pulled herself back from the brink of complete unprofessionalism. She removed the stethoscope, letting it hang once more around her neck, the chest piece still warm from contact with Ms. Chen's skin.

"You can sit up now," she said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. "I don't hear any abnormalities, which is excellent news." Ms. Chen rebuttoned her blouse, her movements unhurried and graceful. "So the palpitations aren't serious?"

"They're likely benign, possibly related to mild exercise-induced tachycardia," Carmella replied, falling back on medical terminology like a shield. "But I'd like to run an ECG to be certain, and perhaps have you wear a Holter monitor for twenty-four hours to catch any irregularities that might occur during your next run."

Her hands trembled slightly as she made notes in the patient's chart. The pen skittered across the page, leaving marks that were less precise than her usual immaculate script. She pressed down harder, forcing control, but her fingers remained unsteady—betrayers to the last.

"The nurse will set you up with the ECG in a moment," she said, not quite meeting Ms. Chen's eyes. "And we'll schedule the Holter monitor fitting at reception." Ms. Chen nodded, seemingly oblivious to her doctor's internal turmoil. "Thank you, Dr. Hill. Everyone says you're the best, and I can see why."

The compliment cut through Carmella like a blade of ice. If only her patient knew the unprofessional thoughts that had accompanied her examination, the way the sound of her heartbeat would echo in Carmella's mind long after she left the clinic.

The shame of it mingled with the lingering arousal, creating a toxic cocktail of emotion that threatened to crack her professional veneer. "Just doing my job," she replied, the platitude tasting stale on her tongue. She stood, clipboard clutched to her chest like armor. "The nurse will be right in."

She exited the room with measured steps, her outward composure a masterpiece of control, betrayed only by the slight tremor in her hands and the memory of a heartbeat that continued to pulse through her consciousness with inappropriate persistence. Carmella closed her office door with a soft click and leaned against it, finally allowing her composure to fracture in the privacy of her sanctuary.

The stethoscope hung heavy around her neck, still warm from contact with Ms. Chen's skin, the memory of the heartbeat pulsing through her consciousness with merciless clarity. Her own heart raced with inappropriate excitement, its rhythm a mockery of the professional demeanor she had struggled to maintain during the examination.

Her hands, steady enough during medical school surgeries and countless cardiac emergencies, now trembled with the force of her desire, and she felt a flush of shame spread beneath her skin like a fever. She crossed to her desk on unsteady legs, grateful for the solidity of the leather chair that caught her as her knees weakened.

The morning sun still streamed through the windows, the city sprawling below her in its indifferent enormity, but Carmella was blind to everything except the echo of that perfect rhythm in her mind. Her fingers found the stethoscope, lifting it from around her neck with a reverence that bordered on worship.

The metal chest piece retained a whisper of warmth, and she closed her eyes as she held it, replaying the sound that had filled her ears moments ago. The cadence of Ms. Chen's heartbeat—strong, regular, with that subtle S3 presence—had been exquisite, a symphony of life force that resonated through Carmella with nearly unbearable intensity.

She pressed the chest piece to her own sternum, seeking the counterpoint of her racing heart, the comparison between her irregular, desire-quickened pulse and the memory of the patient's perfect rhythm. Her heartbeat sounded shallow and frantic through the instrument, a testament to the unprofessional arousal that now consumed her.

"Control yourself," she whispered, the words sharp in the silence of her office. But even as she issued the command, her mind betrayed her, reconstructing the examination in vivid detail—the warmth of Ms. Chen's skin, the slight rise and fall of her chest with each breath, the way the heart's rhythm had changed subtly when she'd shifted position.

Carmella set the stethoscope on the desk, forcing her hands away from the instrument that had become both her professional tool and the conduit for her most private obsession. She'd chosen cardiology with genuine passion for the science, fascinated by the heart's mechanical perfection, its tireless commitment to sustaining life. When had that academic interest evolved into something so personal, so consuming?

Perhaps it had started during her residency, when a particularly striking patient's heartbeat had caught her attention, its rhythm unusually clear and compelling. Or maybe the seeds had been planted earlier, in the anatomy lab when she'd first held a preserved heart in her hands, marveling at the vessel that contained humanity's most potent metaphor for emotion.

Regardless of its origins, the fascination had grown over the years, intensifying until the sound of a heartbeat—particularly a female heartbeat, with its higher pitch and faster baseline rhythm—could send her spiraling into this state of inappropriate arousal. The professional detachment she maintained with steel discipline was her only defense against the tide of her fixation.

Carmella's cheeks burned as she acknowledged the physical signs of her arousal—the heightened sensitivity of her skin, the tightness in her chest, the unmistakable throb of desire between her legs. Her body's response was as clear as any diagnostic reading on her medical equipment, and it filled her with a tangled knot of shame and excitement.

She was a respected cardiologist, a specialist who had published in prestigious journals and lectured at international conferences. Her professional reputation was impeccable, built on years of dedicated study and practice. Yet beneath the perfect exterior lurked this fascination that threatened to undermine everything she had worked for.

What would her colleagues think if they knew? What would her patients feel if they discovered that their doctor listened to their hearts with more than clinical interest? The potential for scandal was enormous, a career-ending possibility that she couldn't afford to ignore.

Yet the intensity of her response was undeniable, a physiological fact as real as any cardiac condition she diagnosed. Her fingers trembled as she reached for a glass of water, trying to cool the heat that had spread through her body. The liquid did little to extinguish the fire that Ms. Chen's heartbeat had ignited.

Carmella forced herself to breathe deeply, employing the same techniques she recommended to anxious patients. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow, controlled, deliberate. The rhythm of her own breathing became a focus point, a way to anchor herself in the storm of her desires.

She justified her interest with scientific rationale—wasn't the heart the most fascinating organ in the human body? Its ceaseless rhythm, its complex electrical pathways, its crucial role in sustaining life made it worthy of devoted study. Her fascination was merely an extension of her professional dedication, a heightened appreciation for the subject of her expertise.

But the scientific explanation rang hollow, even to her own ears. What she felt when listening to a heart like Ms. Chen's transcended academic interest. It was visceral, primal, and undeniably sexual—an inappropriate response that she struggled to reconcile with her professional identity.

The stethoscope caught the light as it lay on her desk, a silver beacon that both represented her medical authority and embodied her deepest temptation. Carmella stared at it, caught in the contradiction of her feelings—pride in her expertise mingled with shame over her secret arousal.

She squared her shoulders, determination hardening her resolve. This fascination may have a hold on her, but she wouldn't allow it to compromise her professional standards. The line between appreciation and exploitation was clear, and she would never cross it. Her patients deserved a doctor who put their care above all else, regardless of her private struggles.

Rising from her chair, Carmella moved to the small bathroom adjoining her office. She splashed cold water on her face, the shock of it helping to clear her mind. In the mirror, her reflection showed the evidence of her inner turmoil—dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, a brightness in her eyes that spoke of unresolved tension.

She dried her face with methodical care, then reapplied her subtle makeup with practiced precision. Each stroke of the lipstick, each touch of the powder brush was an act of reconstruction, rebuilding the façade that had momentarily cracked.

Her lab coat hung on the back of the door, and she straightened it meticulously, adjusting the lapels until they fell in perfect symmetry. She would not allow her private obsession to undermine the professionalism she had spent a lifetime cultivating.

The stethoscope waited on her desk, and she approached it with newfound determination. She picked it up, wiped it thoroughly with an alcohol swab, eradicating any trace of warmth or memory. When she placed it around her neck once more, it was as a medical instrument only, its purpose reclaimed from the realm of inappropriate fascination.

Carmella checked her appearance one final time in the small mirror on her desk. The woman who looked back at her was the consummate professional—composed, authoritative, in complete control. No one looking at her would see the turmoil that still simmered beneath the surface, the echo of a heartbeat that continued to haunt her thoughts. She straightened her spine, adjusted her glasses, and reached for the intercom.

"Please send in the next patient," she said, her voice steady and confident, betraying none of the conflict that raged within her. The professional mask was firmly back in place, the perfect image of medical expertise restored.

But as she waited for the door to open, her fingers unconsciously brushed against the stethoscope at her chest, a fleeting touch that acknowledged the truth she could never fully escape—that beneath the pristine white coat and years of training beat a heart as susceptible to inappropriate desire as any she had ever examined.

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cometmercy-blog · 2 months ago

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"Sit down" you say to me as you turn away and move over to a tray of various medical devices.

I try to sit on the bed as calmly as possible, but my breathing is elevated and even I can notice my chest jumping with each accelerated heartbeat.

You turn back to me and try to give me a reassuring smile, though I see your eyes lock in on my chest. You can see how nervous I am, and I know how excited that makes you.

I notice the stethoscope around your neck as you casually take hold of it.

"I'm going to give you a full exam today to make sure your heart is functioning properly, but I am going to need full access to your chest and possibly other parts of your body later on, so please take off your top and bra."

Here we go. This is what we've been planning for since that first conversation. You are experienced in this. You regularly meet up with willing individuals who require your 'services'. This is my first time and it shows but, as agreed, nothing is off the table. I want to experience everything I've ever wanted to satisfy my kink, and you are going to be the one to provide it for me. My hands are shaking as I go to lift my top, but I know you like that too. You are going to enjoy keeping me on edge...in so many ways.

You're watching me closely, making me more nervous as I remove my top and start to unhook my bra.

"One moment please before you remove that, I can't help but notice your breathing has elevated dramatically from just taking off your top so I'd like to take your pulse before I start the exam as I'm a bit concerned your heart is working harder than it should be."

You casually place one hand on my shoulder whilst the other reaches towards the side of my neck. You press down with your fingers against my pulse and my breathing hitches. You're watching the clock behind my head. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest and my pulse against your fingers. After a few seconds the fingers on your other hand gently start to stroke my shoulder. Shit, it feels so good. How am I going to last through this exam without actually needing to be resuscitated?!

"Hmm, that's a very high resting heart rate. You're currently at 110 beats per minute. We're going to have to do some very thorough testing today. I don't want you leaving this room until I'm satisfied your heart is healthy. It does mean we're going to need to put some stress on it, but don't worry. If anything does happen and your heart decides it can't take any more, I will be right here to make sure it keeps beating. All night if it comes to it!"

Well, I'm fairly sure after that speech that my heart rate has just gone up dramatically. You still have your fingers on my pulse and make a quick glance at the clock.

"120 now, let's get that bra off before your heart gives out on us. Actually, given the concern I have we had best make sure I have full access to your whole body. I don't want to risk anything with you today. Please take off the rest of your clothes too."

My breathing catches and I notice the smirk on your face. I also notice the bulge in your trousers. You are enjoying this just as much as I am.

I hop off the bed and stumble slightly. You put your hands on my shoulders to steady me and gently rub your thumbs over my collarbones. You know exactly what you're doing to me and you're loving every second of it.

"Careful now, we don't want any more medical emergencies today. Let's just keep that heart beating first, ok?!"

I nod and start to take off my jeans. I'm left in just my underwear as you turn back to me

"Let me know if you need any help"

I'm so wet. As I remove my underwear you look at them and can clearly see my arousal. You stare at my chest as I start to remove my bra. I'm now completely bare to you. My breasts are clearly moving with every rapid heartbeat. Even I can notice them out of the corner of my eye, but you are zeroed in on them.

"Let's get you back on the bed quickly before you fall. It looks like your heart has really started to suffer. I can see it beating clear as day in that beautiful chest of yours."

You help me up onto the bed.

"I usually start my exams sitting, but I'm concerned with you breathing so fast that you may start to pass out so I'm going to have you laying down for now."

You push on my shoulders and I lay back. I watch as you remove the stethoscope from around your neck and place the tips in your ears.

"Ok, please try to breathe as normally as you can. I understand your heart is under a lot of strain right now so it might be hard for you to catch your breath, but we will look into that in a bit. For now I just want you to try to breathe as slow as you can whilst I take a very close listen to each part of your heart."

You slowly place the disc on my chest, drawing out the occasion. Suddenly it touches my chest, my eyes close as I revel in the sensation. Even over the blood rushing through my ears I can make out your sigh. You're hearing my heartbeat for the first time. You're in control. I'm here at your mercy and you know I'm loving this because you can hear each heartbeat get faster and faster.

You're listening to each area for what feels like an age. I watch your face as you are focused on my chest. You are as mesmerised by the sound as I am by seeing your stethoscope on my chest. My heart hasn't slowed at all. Your hand touches my breast to place your stethoscope in its next location. You purposely brush my nipple and I jolt slightly, the sensation of you touching me causing my heart to skip a beat. I feel the sudden jump in my chest as you look directly into my eyes.

"Your heartbeat is becoming quite irregular, and I can hear a slight murmur which may need further investigation. Do you experience many skips during your normal day?"

You take the stethoscope out of your ears and place your hand under my left breast causing my heart to skip yet another beat and my thighs to rub together.

"Umm, I quite often get an irregular heartbeat when I'm... having an orgasm."

You move your hand to the centre of my chest and I look down to see it visibly moving up and down in time to my frantic heartbeat.

"I see. Well, having heard how fast your heart is currently beating and hearing the skips and murmur I'm going to have to perform some tests to bring about these irregularities. I'm afraid I may need to test it several times to get enough results. The first thing I'm going to do now is to monitor your heart with an ECG. That will allow me to see the electrical activity and determine if there is anything wrong with your heart in that sense. It will also give me a print out of every heartbeat you have for the rest of the session, including any skips or other irregularities, so everything can be monitored."

His hand in the centre of my chest pushes down ever so slightly and my heart rate picks up even more.

"Darling, I hate to say it, but I don't think you'll be going home tonight. I'd like to keep you in for observation and, of course, further testing. I'll need to examine your heart using the ultrasound and we'll do some stress tests to put your heart under pressure. I'm also going to have to run a few of those tests to see how your heart beats when you are aroused and having an orgasm. We certainly don't want your heart to stop beating when you're enjoying yourself do we?"

I shake my head, I haven't taken a breath since he started putting pressure on my chest. He knows this and has increased the pressure gradually during his explanation of what he's going to do.

"Don't worry. I'm going to take very good care of your heart and by the time I'm finished with you you'll have nothing to be concerned about. In fact, I would say you're going to be feeling on top of the world..."

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cometmercy-blog · 5 months ago

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TW: This story/chapter contains the following; Doctor/Patient Roleplay and Sexual Cardiophilia

A Second Date - Chapter 1

Grace’s POV

12 days seemed to rush by in a blur. In between lectures and studies, I found myself thinking more and more about Matthew. He just seemed so perfect, a handsome gentleman who shared my interest in hearts.

I was sat in the study hall, waiting for the hours to painfully tick by. I chose to occupy myself with my chosen study material; a book on biology. Notes scribbled on sticky notes peppered the page as I became engrossed in my research.

I paused for a bit, checking my phone for the time. 11:45. ‘Not long now’ I thought as I slowly retracted my hand from my purse, my fingers brushing against the tubing of my stethoscope. I felt a rush of excitement from such a normal medical tool being nestled secretly in my bag.

It was hard to resist the temptation to listen to my heart, but I fought it. There was always the time for that later with Matthew. I sighed wistfully as I returned to my studies, writing up my notes into my notebook, taking care to make my handwriting neat. It must have took me a while, before a hand gently rested upon my shoulder.

“Hey Grace, still studying?” Matthew tilted his head with a look of concern upon his face. He was wearing his formal clothes, having just taken a written exam.

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I be?” I quickly checked my phone’s time. 12:45. Shit, I kept Matthew waiting. I hurriedly packed my things away before standing up. “I’m so sorry, I lost track of the time...”

I felt the young doctor’s hand rest on my cheek. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m exactly the same when it comes to studying. Let’s go back to my place.”

I nodded, eagerly following him as we headed outside to his car. The drive seemed rather short, but I chalked that up to my mind racing from excitement. We soon arrived at his house, and we only just got through the front door before one of his hands was in my hair, while the other pulled me close by the waist.

“Grace...I really missed you during these past few days” Matthew whispered before crushing his lips on mine. There was a faint taste of coffee, I noted, as I kissed him back. I felt him slowly remove my leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He started walking us to the couch in his living room, before causing us to fall backwards onto it.

The impact made us break the kiss, as I noticed that I was straddling him now as he sat, gazing at me with a love struck expression. His hand ghosted my thigh just under the hem of my white sundress as our breathing hitched in unison. I slowly reached for his black tie, running my other hand up his crisp white shirt. I noticed a bulge hardened under his black slacks.

“Mm, tell me what you want, Doctor Matthew” I purred, tugging lightly on his tie. He took a deep breath as he tried to focus. His hand found my underwear, tracing it lightly with his fingers. “Oh Grace... I want you so fucking badly.” That was all the invitation I needed as I closed the small gap between us, rolling my hips back and forth against his concealed erection.

Matthew leaned back against the couch in sheer lust, panting and moaning softly as I ground my hips on his. “Oh Grace! Oh f-fuck! Don’t stop! It feels so fucking good...! Ahhhhh” I crushed my lips on his, turning his words of praise into soft whines and grunts. I let this go on for another minute or two, before stopping.

Matthew let out a frustrated whine. “Grace... Please darling, I need more...!” I nodded, trailing a hand down his chest. “I know, but I don’t wanna ruin your fancy clothing”. I tugged at his tie again, loosening it for him. It took him very little time to strip for me, eagerly shedding his layers, before hesitating at the T-shirt under his button up. “Ahh, I’m...I’m not comfortable with removing this.”

I leaned against him, my lips grazing his neck. “It’s okay baby, whatever you’re comfortable with” I murmured as I trailed my tongue against his carotid. His breath caught in his throat, as he worked his hand past my underwear, slicking them teasingly between my legs. Oh fuck...!

I humped his hand, hungry for more stimulation. My hands found their way into his hair, gripping softly as his fingers brushed my throbbing clit. His free hand worked its way up past my skirt, searching until it found my sternum, just under my bra.

My hand clasped his, holding it tightly to my chest. My voice dripped with concern as I whined, “Doctor, what is wrong with me? I’m having trouble breathing and my heart is unsteady...” Matthew bit his lower lip, turned on by this sudden attempt at roleplay.

My back met the surface of the couch as Matthew used his body to guide me to recline. His hands retracted from their positions as he reached for a stethoscope that rested on the coffee table. His demeanour changed as he slung the stethoscope over his shoulders. “Shhh, let Doctor Phillips take a look at you”.

My breathing hitched as he took my wrist pulse in one hand while the other hand monitored my carotid. “Hmm, a little bit high.” He mused, as a cool hand gently felt my forehead. My head was tilted back by my chin, as he peered into my eyes. I could only stare back, my breathing getting slightly faster from locking eyes with the gorgeous student doctor.

His hands left my body once more. “Interesting...” He murmured, before taking his stethoscope into his hands. “Now for my favourite part of the examination”. My heart skipped with excitement as he painstakingly slipped the tips into his ears before holding the chestpiece. “Grace, I need you to lift your dress so I have access to your chest, is that okay?”

I nodded, carrying out his request as the fabric slowly revealed my body to him. He sunk the diaphragm slowly into my pulmonic area. I gasped softly yet suddenly from the cold metal. Matthew brought his free hand up to my lips, shushing me with a finger. His touch was gentle yet professional as he slowly made his way across my chest.

I lay perfectly still, trying to be a good patient for him. He seemed to reward me with extra time on each auscultation point. I kept up the pretend patient role, breathing shallow and fast, quietly moaning with each touch. His hand reached down to stroke my slit, eliciting a hard moan from my lips. Matthew was done, as he removed the stethoscope and kept the earpieces around his neck.

“Ms Stewart, I have come to a conclusion after examination. Your skin temperature is slightly elevated, and your pupils are dilated. Your pulse is high, which has been further confirmed by listening for any problems with your heartbeat. Your breathing is rapid yet shallow too. You seem to respond well to sexual stimulation, given the natural lubricant your body is producing in excess. My diagnosis is that you’re experiencing arousal.”

Matthew leaned in close, his lips softly tickling my ear. ”Dare I say it, love...you are absolutely fucking horny.” I squirmed underneath him, desperate for his touch “Please Doctor, please help me get better!” He gave me a small smile. “Of course Grace. My treatment for this ailment involves sexual stimulation until release is adequately achieved. I will monitor your heart during this.” One hand reached up to insert the earpieces back in, before moving the diaphragm to my chest.

I was caught off guard by his fingers reuniting with the area concealed by my underwear. His slender fingers flicked my swollen clit over and over. It wasn’t long before I came, letting out a low moan as my entire body quivered with pleasure. Matthew gazed longingly at me, before whispering, “Grace...I think we need to give you repeat dosages for maximum recovery”.

His fingers started slicking my surface much faster. I moved one hand up to my carotid, curious about how my heart was doing. It thudded hard and fast, and it wasn’t long before I realised that the tempo that Matthew was stimulating me had matched with my heart’s pace. Fuck me, this was so hot!

I felt a familiar build up of pressure as my clit was nearing orgasm. My back arched off the plush couch surface as my breathing got laboured. Matthew looked at my chest with intrigue as he inched the diaphragm over where my heart visibly thundered closest to my skin. The thought of him listening to my heart booming at its loudest through his ears had sent me over the edge as I achieved release once more. But Matthew wasn’t done.

“One more should suffice, then you’ll be feeling much better.” His words were like honey, and I greedily lapped it all up, bucking my hips against his fingers. Our bodies seemed to move in tandem, as my hips rolled up at the peak of his strokes, causing sparks to fly across my vision.

“Oh fuck, ohhh fuck I’m close, Matthew, please don’t stop!” I begged, as I held my breath for the ‘Big O’. I planned to not breathe until orgasm had been achieved. This was something I regularly did, causing my heart to skip and falter temporarily. My face grew red as I focused on the sensation between my legs.

Matthew stopped suddenly. “Grace? You’re not breathing. C’mon baby, breathe for me!” Fuck, I hadn’t thought that he’d grow concerned quickly. My hand grabbed his, coaxing it to rub me again. His concerned expression softened as he realised what I was doing. His fingers became a flurry of fast paced strokes, desperate to release me. “Come on Grace, come for me!” It’s coming...Oh. Oh...!

“O-O-Ohhh! OH! OH F-FUCK!”

The sudden release had hit me hard. It was like a drop in a pond, sending multiple waves through me. I gripped Matthew close to me as my body rode out the orgasm. His eyes were closed as he panted heavily. I was confused until I felt a damp patch grow steadily between his legs. He came too.

We lay in silence for a brief moment, letting the feelings of intense pleasure ebb away. Matthew was the first to speak up. “Please give me some warning before you do something like that... Just hearing your heart skip and stumble so hard in this situation just... Fuck, it turned me on so much”.

I dislodged the earpieces, before I ran a hand through his hair. “How about we get cleaned up before we head downstairs? I’m sure you’re dying to have control over my heart again”.

Matthew’s face flushed slightly, before he nodded. “I’m absolutely dying to continue our experiments”.

Next Chapter

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cometmercy-blog · 5 months ago

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TW: This story/chapter contains the following; Mentions of Resus and Defibrillation, but not for the sake of revival, but a Sexual Roleplay, Slight Dark Cardiophilia, Sexual Cardiophilia

One Small Favour - Chapter 5

Doctor Matthew’s POV

Oh fuck.

I pulled away from the kiss in surprise, panting slightly. “Grace... I- Oh fuck, I’m sorry, please just kiss me again.” Grace’s lips were soft and sweet as they collided with mine once more. I felt her other hand migrate to grasp my hair, pulling me further into this heavenly experience. My hands found themselves wandering, one rested on her thighs while the other cradled her neck. She moaned softly into my mouth, before gently biting my bottom lip. Oh God. Oh fuck.

I could hear the patient monitor going crazy, her heartbeat skipping at my gentle touch. I needed more from her. I leaned into her, pressing her small body against mine. She pulled me down by my shirt, the rest of me following suit. My legs were on either side of her as we lay on the table, I was now straddling her. Oh my God, this felt so good.

Grace’s breathing hitched, as she started gently bucking her hips against mine. Fuck, she’s teasing me! I growled into her open mouth, as I started grinding my hips on hers in a rolling motion. Fuuuck. Oh fuck!

Her soft breathy signs of pleasure were driving me crazy, I need her so badly. I slowly moved my hand between her legs, back and forth. She began to hump my hand hungrily, almost desperately. I worked my hand past her skinny jeans, slowly massaging her through her already wet underwear, and then suddenly stopping.

She let out a desperate whine. “Please, Doctor Matthew!” She bucked hard against my hand, breathing heavily. Her brown eyes met mine, pleading with me. Fuck, she wants me too. My hand was removed. Grace huffed in frustration.

“Hold on darling, I have an idea.” I reached over to the microphone and speaker, switching them both on. I slowly lowered the microphone to rest on her sternum, and the sound of her aroused heartbeat filled the room.

BA-DMP BA-DMP BA-DMP BA-DMP BA-DMP

She looked at me longingly. Fuck, she’s just perfect. I placed my hand against her pounding apex, savouring her beats, before moving my hand down her body at a snails pace. Oh, I can tell by the way she’s breathing so ragged, she wants this so fucking badly... I stopped again. Her frustration made a return.

“Shhh love, I want to take my time with this” I whispered, pressing a gloved finger to her soft lips. I brought my other hand to my mouth and removed my glove slowly with my teeth, before running my tongue along my fingers. Grace let out a soft moan as she watched me, she was really anticipating this.

My hand ghosted her stomach as I made my way to her most sacred area. I slowly unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down slightly, giving me more room to work with. A quick glance at the patient monitor told me that her heart was pounding at 105 beats per minute. ‘It’s about to get faster’ I thought to myself.

My fingers slipped past the hem of her underwear, and brushed against the warm softness between her legs. Oh fuck, it feels so wet. I slowly moved my fingers up and down, familiarising myself with this new territory. Grace’s hips bucked uncontrollably, a moan escaping her once more.

I thought about what she confided earlier; her fantasising about me performing resus on her. I had an idea.

“I have a patient in cardiac arrest, she’s been down for three minutes, starting compressions now!”

I started lightly pulsing my fingers against her clitoris, counting aloud as though I was compressing her chest, before tracing her folds twice to represent rescue breaths. Grace was confused, until she caught on to my idea. She squirmed against my hand, breathing heavily, clearly turned on.

I continued the stimulation for 5 cycles, then changed my pattern. “Ventricular Fibrillation detected! Charge the paddles to 200j! Stand back! Clear!” I pressed my palm against her clit, and lightly squeezed to add pressure. Grace bucked her hips dramatically, as if I sent a jolt through her. I grinned at her playful action, before continuing my role play.

“No rhythm detected! Continue compressions!” I resume the pulsing and bucking, sending Grace into another low moan. I completed another 5 cycles, then inserted a finger slowly before rubbing her g-spot with a come-here motion “Administering epi!!” I started ‘compressions’ again, but only with my thumb on her clit. I looked at Grace. Her eyes were closed and her arms were above her head. She was breathing so heavily, every few breaths would elicit another moan. She looked like she was so close to sweet sensual release.

“She’s back in V-Fib! Charge the paddles to 300j! Administering another epi!” I inserted another finger, so two were now rubbing her deep inside. “Paddles charged, stay back! Clear!” I jerked my hand against her wet surface, as Grace thrust her hips up. “Charging again! Clear!” Another hip thrust. “Come on Grace! Don’t die on me darling! Charging paddles to 360J! Clear!”

Her hips thrust once more as I repeatedly pulsed my thumb on her clit, sending her sensitive little self into orgasm. She let out a loud moan, throwing her head back. Her back arched hard as I felt her soaked velvet spasm against my hand. Her hips shuddered as I continued massaging her clit to help her ride out her waves of pleasure.

Using one hand, I retrieved my stethoscope and placed the ear tips in, before gently applying the diaphragm to her pounding chest. “We’ve got a heartbeat! She’s back!” I looked at her as she lay there, coming down from her high of combining resus with sexual stimulation. I glanced at the patient monitor, as it showed that Grace had reached 135bpm and was decreasing as she relaxed.

She didn’t speak for another 10 minutes, still in sheer bliss. I disposed of my gloves and washed my hands. Then I quickly headed upstairs to grab a pair of my boxers, before returning to the room. I unfastened her leg restraints, before holding out the boxers to her, along with some paper towels. “Here. I... Uhmm, I thought you’d appreciate a change of underwear before we continue to the experiments”.

Grace looked at me with her doe eyes, before accepting. I turned around to give her privacy, using this time to readjust my clothes and apply clean gloves. She lay there on the table in just my boxer shorts. Fuck, the more I look at her, the more I’m falling for her. I made my way over to her.

“So Grace, what test do you want to begin with?”

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cometmercy-blog · 5 months ago

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TW: This story/chapter contains the following; Medical Checkup, Cardio-Examination, Slight lust at the end

One Small Favour - Chapter 4

Grace’s POV

I felt my body relax. Doctor Matthew wheeled an empty cart over to the left side of my head before setting a surgical tray on its surface. He started assembling the necessary equipment for his examination of my heart. A tube of ultrasound gel first, then the hand-held Doppler, and finally some paper towels. He walked over to the right side of the room, where a cabinet stood behind the camcorder. A stethoscope was in his hands, although it looked different than his usual one.

Matthew saw my confused face. “This is a digital stethoscope. It offers amplification of heart sounds, and the ability to make recordings.” He smiled, oh fuck, that smile. “As you can tell by the extensive amount of equipment present in the room, I don’t want to leave any potential audio or video feed out. He returned to my side, slinging the stethoscope over his neck as he walked.

Doctor Matthew started freeing my arms from their restraints. “I will need you to sit up straight for me so I can begin with auscultation.” I followed his instructions, resting my free hands on either side of my lap.

I tugged at the shoulder strap of my bralette. “Will I need to remove this?” Matthew shifted uncomfortably, looking away before nodding. I unfastened it at the front, before slipping it of and tossing it towards the floor by my feet. My small pale breasts were uncovered now, with only a beige pastie over each nipple. Matthew was still looking away. I took his hand and placed it against my chest. “Hey, it’s okay to look, I’m ready” He glanced over at me, trying to regain his composure over himself. “R-Right, ah, let’s begin” He withdrew a remote from his pocket, and pressed a button. The blinking lights of the camcorders turned green as they started recording.

“This is Doctor Matthew Phillips. Patient 0 is now conscious and alert. I am going to conduct a examination of the patient’s cardiovascular system. First, I will begin with auscultation, followed by palpation. Afterwards, I will proceed with a Doppler and Ultrasound of the heart, surrounding circulation and pulse points, before concluding with reading the patient vitals from the monitor. Patient 0, I need you to take deep breaths for me.”

I felt myself swoon at his professional manner. The digital stethoscope made contact with my chest, broadcasting the sound of my excited heart to the doctor’s ears. I looked up at his face, his expression was calm yet focused. His other hand rested on my shoulder. I took deep breaths as he slowly made his way around my chest, lulling myself into a relaxed state. Doctor Matthew moved around to stand behind me.

“Patient 0, I need you to move your shoulders forward. Take deep breaths now”. The diaphragm settled onto my skin once more, as it kissed my back ever so softly every time Matthew moved it. My breathing got deeper as I leaned back into his presence, his hand grasped my shoulder before I could go further. I suddenly felt his hand guide my shoulder down slowly, before moving around to my front and resuming his examination. My mind must have gone blank while looking up at his face, before I knew it Doctor Matthew was looping the stethoscope over his shoulders.

I suddenly felt his hand reach for my wrist, to check my pulse. He set it down, moving to feel my other wrist. His warm gloved hands settled on both sides of my neck under my jaw, monitoring my now rapid pulse. I felt my breath catch in my throat as we made eye contact. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. Matthew gave me a smile, before moving one hand to palpate my chest. Shit, he can feel the effect he’s having on my heart. He glanced up at me, raising his eyebrows, further confirming my worry.

Matthew straightened up, and moved to wheel the ultrasound machine over to the table before activating it. He reached over for the gel, before looking at me, ready to squeeze the tube. “This will feel cold.” No kidding. I shuddered as the first blob of gel was applied to my chest. The probe came next, pressing lightly where the gel sat.

I looked up at the monitor. In black and white, was my heart. I could see the valves opening and closing in time with my heart. Doctor Matthew slowly moved the probe around my chest, tilting and turning it occasionally. My heart rate slightly elevated as the cold gel was slicked across the surface of my chest.

Matthew took the probe away, and reached for the gel. He applied it to two of his gloved fingers. The sight of this action ignited dirty thoughts within me. ‘Fuck, what else can those fingers d—”. I was suddenly distracted as he smeared the gel onto my wrists and neck arteries with his fingers. He applied the Doppler probe, listening to the flow of blood through my pulse points. He then moved it around my chest in the same way he had listened to my heart. He seemed satisfied with the results, as he spoke aloud to the cameras.

“Patient 0’s heart has been subjected to an examination, and I can confirm there are no abnormalities that will interfere with the tests that I wish to run. Patient 0’s vitals are fully recovered from yesterday’s incident. Heart rate is 73, blood pressure is 121/80, and oxygen levels are 99% with 14 respirations per minute. ECG shows a sinus rhythm. This concludes the pre-experimental examination”.

Doctor Matthew stopped the recording and turned to me. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hey?”. He reached for a paper towel, before wiping off the gel from my chest. He discarded it, and grabbed another one. I sat up, stretching my back and arms. Matthew gently took my wrists in his hand, wiping off the gel. He turned his attention to my neck, tilting my chin up with his hand as he wiped one side of my neck. His face was so close to mine. Fuck. Fuck! I made eye contact with him as he tilted my head to the right, wiping off the other side. Oh fuck, I want him so badly. I need him so badly.

My hand softly grasped his coat as I pulled him in for a kiss.

Next Chapter

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