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Please Wait For Your Doctor
Janine was a track runner and needed a few exams before she could compete at her next event. Today was the cardiologist. She was stuck in Dr. Ena's clinic, fidgeting in her jogging outfit that bared smooth, dark olive skin.
The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly. She'd been waiting for over 45 minutes, her phone battery nearly dead. Boredom consumed her, and that typically meant trouble. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She cracked open the exam room door and peered into the hallway to see if she could get an ETA. Empty. The nurse's station was around the corner, voices murmuring faintly. What harm could a quick wander do?
Janine walked down the corridor, her curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar surroundings. Moving around felt good at least. As she turned a corner, she spotted a door at the end of a dimly lit hall, barricaded with yellow caution tape that sagged. The sign read "Authorized Personnel Only—Do Not Enter." But the door was cracked open just a sliver. The old latch didn't quite close on its own anymore. It was inviting her in.
Janine's pulse quickened in excitement, and she pressed on her chest to calm her heart. She glanced over her shoulder, then slipped through the gap, the tape brushing her arm.
Inside, the air was dusty. The room was a relic, untouched for what seemed like decades. Faded posters peeled from the walls, advertising outdated medical equipment. Old filing cabinets stood, their drawers half-open and spilling yellowed papers. The floor was a mosaic of cracked tiles, some buckled upward as if the ground beneath had shifted. Janine took a tentative step forward, her sneaker crunching on grit.
Then, a sound. A low rumble from below, like chanting? It vibrated through the soles of her feet, faint but insistent. Her heart raced now. She edged deeper into the room to hear it better. The tiles felt spongy underfoot, giving slightly with each step.
Panic hit her like a starting gun. "Oh no," she muttered, spinning on her heel to bolt for the door. But it was too late. The floor betrayed her, a section of tiles collapsing in a cascade of debris and dust. Janine plummeted, arms flailing as she tumbled into the void below.
...
Consciousness returned to Janine in fragments. First, the cold metal beneath her spine, air moving across her naked form. Her eyes opened to harsh fluorescent light. beyond which was the hole in the ceiling where she fell.
She tried to lift her hand to shield her face, but found it wouldn't move. Leather straps bit into her wrists, holding them flat against the table's surface. The same at her ankles. She lifted her head -the only part of her that could still move freely- and saw her body laid out bare.
Her brown skin was covered in goosebumps. The athletic tone she'd built through years of training lay useless, every curve and plane exposed. White adhesive pads dotted her chest, thin wires trailing from them to a machine that beeped in time with her accelerating pulse. The sound was humiliating and frantic. Each electronic chirp exposed her terror.
Six or seven women kept sliding in and out of focus. Some wore white coats, stethoscopes draped around their necks. But two of them... two wore something else entirely. Robes of deep crimson, embroidered with symbols that seemed to shift when she looked at them directly. Bone decorations hung from their waist, clicking softly with each movement. Their bodies -one taller and dark, the other wiry and fair-skinned with auburn hair- were bare beneath the separations in fabric.
"She's awake." One of the white coats stepped closer, her pale face conveying anger. It was Dr. Ena, the name badge revealed. Her face was bubbly and would be inviting had she not been consumed with anger.
Janine's throat worked, trying to form words. "Where... what is..."
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" The doctor said.
The memory came back in pieces. The clinic she'd been exploring. The old floor tiles are giving way beneath her feet. The sensation of falling, falling...
"I didn't mean-"
"Intentions are irrelevant." The pale shaman's gritty voice cut through her protest. "The seal is broken. For one thousand years, we've waited for the alignment, for the moment when the barrier grows thin enough to reinforce. And you..." She gestured at Janine's prone form with disgust. "You crashed through at the precise moment of the demon’s binding."
The monitor's beeping grew more insistent. Janine could feel her heart slamming against her sternum, each beat a vivid palpitation reminding her of her vulnerability. The EKG leads picked up every panicked contraction, translated it into jagged peaks on the screen. The other doctor, a stout east-asian looking woman who donned full face covering, glanced at the readout.
"She knows her deeds; her guilt is on display," she murmured to her colleague. "You can't hide from us."
"Please." Janine pulled against the restraints, leather creaking but holding firm. Her muscles stood out in sharp relief as she strained, tendons visible beneath the skin. "I don't understand. Just let me go. I won't tell anyone about this!"
"Let you go?" The dark shaman laughed. "The demon we sought to bind is already testing the weakened seal. Do you know what happens when such entities break free? When they crawl up from the deep places where we've kept them caged?"
She didn't wait for an answer. "They feast." She leaned down until her face was inches from Janine's, revealing small facial scars and madness in those wild gray eyes.
"There must be punishment." A blonde woman with thick, round glasses in green scrubs pulled on latex gloves as she approached.
Janine's heart lurched, skipped a beat. The sound from the EKG laid out the adrenaline surge for all to witness. "No. No, you can't!" she yelled.
The shamanic woman’s terrifying gaze distracted Janine from the long, off-white cloth she held in her hand, covered in black markings. The woman tugged it tensely between her hands and slid it into Janine’s open mouth. Janine whimpered and shook her head, her protests muffled gurgling. Nothing she did stopped the woman from tying it around her head and securing it in place.
“Be wary of her attempts to sway you. This woman may be possessed, after all,” the shaman said to the others. She took another cloth, wider than the first, and draped it over Janine’s face.It was thin enough for Janine to see through, yet hid her pitiful expressions from the gathering.
The cart wheeled closer. The nurse placed her palm flat against Janine's chest, feeling the desperate rhythm. Nobody looked into Janine’s eyes now, nor did they even heed the squirming of her body. The only form of communication they seemed to trust was the involuntary motions within her chest.
"She begs for mercy," the young woman said with glee.
"The punishment must fit the transgression," the shaman asserted. The doctors and nurses moved, adjusting the table's height, angling the overhead light. Janine’s chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath shallow and quick. The monitor's display showed her heart rate climbing—120, 130, 160. She lay in complete helplessness.
A petite nurse with skin about the same color as Janine’s, auburn hair in a ponytail, lifted a clear bottle and squeezed a viscous gel onto her hands. Janine thrashed against the restraints, accomplishing nothing as the woman approached her. The nurse rubbed the gel on her chest in an intimate glide that made her muscles contract involuntarily. Thick, viscous, spreading across her skin as gloved hands worked it over the area where her heart thundered beneath. The doctor's fingers coated every inch between her breasts, up toward her clavicles, down along her ribs. The substance clung to her brown skin, glistening under the harsh lights.
Dr. Ena picked up the defibrillator paddles from their cradles. Chrome and gray plastic, heavier than they looked. The doctor smiled as the machine charged, its rising pitch filling the room. The display showed the building voltage: 100 joules, 150, 200.
The paddles descended toward Janine's chest. She could see them coming, could do nothing to stop them. They pressed against her gel-slicked frame, one just below her right clavicle, the other against her ribs on the left side. Her squirming and heavy breathing made them glide across her skin.
The doctor paid her no mind, pressing harder to trap her wriggling form in place. The pressure alone made her heart skip, the organ seeming to sense what was coming.
"Charging to 200. Clear."
The shock hit like a train. Every muscle in Janine's body contracted at once, her back arching off the table as far as the restraints allowed. But it was her heart that took the brunt; the current disrupting organized contractions into silence, then chaos. For a moment that lasted forever, the organ simply quivered, unable to remember how to beat.
Then it squirmed back into motion, harder than before. Slamming against her ribs with renewed panic, trying to make up for the lost seconds. The machine shrieked with alarms as her rhythm went wild. Premature beats, skipped beats, barely a pattern.
Janine lay there, chest heaving in frantic breaths. One of the doctors placed a stethoscope against her delicate, splaying ribs. The woman moved the chest piece slowly, making circles in the gel while tracking the chaos. Her grin conveyed a satisfaction that escalated with every heartbeat.
The blonde nurse approached, pale hand reaching out, thick glasses covering her eyes. She couldn't resist placing her hand over Janine's sternum once more, feeling the volatile motion. Her fingers spread wide, palm pressed flat, absorbing every desperate contraction between those billowing lungs.
"She suffers greatly," the woman reported to the delight of the others.
They gave her thirty seconds. Thirty seconds for her heart to almost find its rhythm again, for the organ to begin to hope the torture was over. The gel had warmed slightly from her body heat, from the electrical discharge. Sweat beaded on her skin, mixing with the conductive medium.
"Again," the lead doctor announced. "250 joules this time."
The paddles found their positions once more. Janine's covered eyes went wide, a defeated yell into her soaked gag. She could feel her heart racing faster, as if it knew what was coming. The muscle pounded so hard she could see her chest moving with each beat, even between the fibers of the cloth, battering her delicate lungs.
The second shock was worse. The current made her body so tense she thought she'd break. Her heart went into a wild dance - fibrillating for a moment before lurching back into a rhythm that bore no resemblance to normal. The monitor showed a jagged mountain range where smooth curves should have been.
Hands palpated her chest between shocks, fingers pressing between her ribs. They weren't looking for diagnostic information - the EKG told them everything medical they needed to know. This was purely for satisfaction, to physically explore the organ's distress. They shared in this vengeance, greedily taking in Janine’s distress.
300 joules next. The machine's whine seemed to last forever as it charged. Janine's heart hammered wildly in anticipation of the coming assault. She could feel it jumping in a futile effort, each beat an expression that encouraged her captors. The next shock came twice in a row before her body could relax. It blanked her vision white. Every nerve fired at once, her muscles locking rigid. But she remained hideously aware of her heart's helpless writhing for their amusement.
"The muscle is weakening," the petite nurse said, palpating carefully. "The contractions are becoming more desperate but less coordinated. It won't be much longer."
Dr. Ena continued her assault methodically, professionally. 350 joules driven into her suffering ventricles. Her body jerked, and her breathing came in hard gasps.
The moment arrived with surprising quietness. One heartbeat, irregular and desperate—then nothing resembling a beat at all. Janine's heart simply shivered in her chest, a fine trembling that accomplished nothing. No blood moved. No oxygen reached her brain. Just the useless quivering of muscle tissue that had forgotten its purpose.
"V-fib," the other doctor announced. Janine wondered if the shocks would end in a bittersweet fade. The blonde was already drawing up epinephrine, the needle catching the light. The other nurse positioned herself at Janine's side, hands finding the proper position on the gel-slicked chest. She palpated Janine's chest carefully, feeling between the ribs. Finding the right spot, she positioned the needle - long, wickedly thick, designed to penetrate deep.
The needle went in slowly. Through skin, between ribs. Janine's eyes rolled back, still conscious enough to feel the needle sliding toward her heart. The tip found the frantically quivering muscle, penetrated the muscle. The nurse's thumb depressed the plunger. Liquid adrenaline flooded directly into her heart tissue. A massive contraction transmitted through the syringe... Then another. Not organized beats but savage spasms as the stimulant forced the exhausted muscle back toward function.
"Compressions," Dr. Ena said.
Her hands stacked over Janine's sternum, directly above her struggling heart. She leaned in with her full weight, compressing. The ribs flexed, bent, creaked under the assault. But it was Janine's heart that bore the real violence - caught between the chest wall and the spine, squeezed like fruit in a press.
Each compression forced the organ to empty, then allowed it to fill. Manual circulation, keeping just enough blood moving to preserve consciousness. Janine could feel everything—her heart being crushed, released, crushed again.
"Still in V-fib," someone reported. "Hit her again."
The paddles returned. 360 joules this time, maximum power. The shock slammed through her chest, making her heart seize completely.
More compressions. Harder this time, the doctor putting her full body weight behind each thrust. Janine's heart, caught in the brutal rhythm, began to show signs of organized activity. Not quite beating, but trying. The monitor flickered between flatline and something that might become a rhythm.
"She's trying to convert. One more shock should do it."
They charged the defibrillator again, the next shock slammed through Janine’s chest once more. They sat back watching her heart's confused attempts to beat. The organ pounded in three rapid beats, a pause, a flutter, two more beats. No pattern, just a panicked effort insufficient to fuel Janine's rapidly fading consciousness. Every fiber of the heart muscle fired at once, then fell silent.
One second. Two. Three.
Then a beat. Weak, uncoordinated, but unmistakably a heartbeat. Another followed, stronger. Then another. Janine's heart clawed its way back to function, each contraction visible through her chest wall. The organ beat so forcefully they could all watch its recovery.
"Beautiful," said the brunette doctor. "She's conscious and panicking again."
They were right. The adrenaline had turned Janine's heart wild. It soon hammered at over 200 beats per minute, each contraction an explosion in her chest. She could feel the organ straining, working harder than it ever had before.
They shocked her again, lower voltage this time, just enough to make her heart stumble. They were toying with it as Janine recovered, keeping her in the twilight of consciousness. The monitor showed wild peaks and valleys as the organ tried to find stability where none was allowed. It simply beat because it had no choice; each contraction a struggle.
"She's going tachy again," the blonde announced eagerly, eyeing the monitor. They could all see Janine's glistening brown chest jerking with the force. Janine's heart stopped for a full second before exploding back into motion. As its rate dipped to 180, Dr. Ena immediately followed with dobutamine, keeping the organ in a state of extreme tension.
The shamans had both moved to the edge of the ritual circle, where Janine had crashed through. They knelt, examining the broken pattern drawn in salt and ash and things less easily identified. The younger shaman traced the air above the disrupted lines, her scarred face growing increasingly grave.
"The breach is worse than we thought," she said. "When she fell through, her body didn't just break the physical circle."
The dark elder shaman stood slowly. "We've been trying to reinforce a structure that no longer exists.” Janine was recovering as they changed focus, but the news didn't help her case at all.
"It can't be repaired?" The doctor's voice went very quiet. Dangerously quiet.
"No. We'll need to evacuate, establish a new containment at least fifty miles from-"
Ena moved fast. Her hands wrapped around Janine's throat, squeezing with all the frustrated rage of their failed purpose. Janine's eyes bulged, her bound hands straining against the restraints. Her veins tense beneath the constricting fingers.
"You ruined everything!" The doctor's face twisted with fury, her grip tightening as the woman squirmed pathetically. "A thousand years of preparation, and you..."
"Stop!" The other doctor grabbed her colleague's wrists. "You're wasting her! This requires invasive punishment!"
The small medical team converged in the distance. The smaller pallid shaman approached and ran her hands over Janine’s toned abdomen with an out-of-place sensual reverence. Despite being the leaders in this ritual, the two shamans didn’t have the visceral anger that the others did. The calmness felt insincere. They seemed more frustrated than anything.
Without a word, the pale woman swung a leg over Janine's restrained form, straddling her. The robe parted like a curtain, revealing the shaman's bare thighs pressing against Janine's dark olive hips.
"Such a waste," the woman said. Fingers trailed up Janine's sides, tracing the curve of her ribs where the gel smeared under the touch. She encircled those ribs, feeling the way Janine's lungs expanded and contracted in panicked gulps.
"Look at how cute she is. She'd make a delightful pet, don't you think? We could still train her." the fair woman said.
The darker shaman leaned in. "But the doctors... they're too invested. We'd risk everything if we tried to change things."
Janine's mind reeled, desperation crashing through her. She wanted to scream, to plead, but the gag turned her words into muffled gurgles. She bucked her hips slightly, not in resistance but in a futile attempt to communicate, her body arching under the woman's weight.
The pale woman's face lit up from the squirms, but ignored their intent. She slid her hands beneath those ribs, cradling Janine's chest. A single lingering kiss just below the sternum expresses the woman's regret. Her head turned to the side planted there, listening.
"What a pitiful thing," she said, savoring the vibrant panic trapped in Janine's chest and in every inch of her body.
"They're coming back." the taller one said. Despite the warning, the woman's head pressed deeper into Janine's frame, as if to savor the response from those words. After precious seconds pass, she dismounts though, straightening her robes for their arrival.
The blonde woman with the thick glasses who'd earlier palpated Janine so eagerly wheeled over a new cart. It gleamed under the fluorescent lights, laden with sterile packages that crinkled as she tore them open. "I need to intubate her."
The shaman stepped in and removed the cloth, then untied the gag. Janine spent her short and sweet moment of freedom catching her breath. Finally, she could speak, put an end to this charade, but a mask descended over her face first, muffling her screams amid the hiss of oxygen.
They tilted her head back until her delicate throat lay exposed. Her eyes couldn't see who did what anymore. The laryngoscope forced its way between her lips, prying her jaw open wider than felt possible. Janine gagged, her tongue pressing uselessly against the intrusion.
The tube followed, slithering down her throat. Janine felt every inch of it, the way it bullied past her vocal folds. Her body rebelled, chest bucking as she tried to cough, but the restraints held her firm. The tube advanced relentlessly.
Now her breaths were mechanical, forced by the ventilator they hooked up. It pushed air into her lungs in rhythmic whooshes. Each inflation stretched her chest from within, her ribs expanding against their will. The sensation was alien and dehumanizing.
"Sedation now," Dr. Ena ordered, her voice cutting through the ventilator's steady hiss. A syringe appeared in her hand, the needle glinting like a promise of oblivion. Janine watched in helpless horror as it pierced the IV line already snaking into her arm. The plunger depressed slowly, the clear fluid vanishing into her vein. Warmth spread from the site, an insidious creep that dulled the edges of her panic. Her eyelids grew heavy, the room blurring at the periphery.
…
Janine's eyes fluttered open. The ventilator still hummed, forcing air into her intubated throat, but now there was a new horror: a gaping void in her chest. Her sternum had been split, ribs pried apart. Retractors held the cavity open,
The first to reach in was the blonde nurse, her eyes alight with fascination behind her glasses. She slipped her hand into the cavity. Her fingers brushed the pericardium before cutting and tearing it open. With a gentle rip, warm, clear fluid spilled out, and then her palm cupped the heart itself.
She reached in first, the team acting as if this was a gift to her. her latex-clad fingers brushing the heart's surface. Janine felt a foreign touch on the most intimate part of her, sending jolts through her body. The heart recoiled instinctively, skipping a beat, its surface dimpling under the pressure.
The nurse didn't hesitate. She cupped the organ fully, her hand enveloping the beating mass. Janine's world exploded in new sensation: The warmth of the glove contrasting the cool air, the gentle at first squeeze that compressed the ventricles mid-contraction. The pink meat bulged between the woman's fingers, arteries swelling with trapped blood. The organ jerked angrily in her grasp.
"Cute how it squirms," the nurse cooed, treating it like a stress ball in her palm. She kneaded gently, fingers digging into the surface.
The nurse released slightly, only to compress again. Over and again, she rolled the heart between her thumb and fingers. As she squeezed, the organ bulged where her grip was tightest. Janine didn't want to give them more amusement, but her body wouldn't stop writhing on display.
The pink tissue paled under the force before flushing deeper red as blood rushed back. Janine could only watch as her heart was manipulated by this eager woman. It clenched unnaturally hard in defeated protest. Each squeeze sent waves of dizziness through her brain, her vision spotting from the irregular flow.
After what felt like an eternity of this intimate torment, the nurse withdrew, her gloves slick with pericardial fluid. "“It’s so angry. So full of fury!. Your turn," she said to the doctor, the one with the full face covering, who seemed most prepared for this moment.
This doctor wasted no time. She grabbed the defibrillator paddles.
"Let's see how it handles direct current," she said, positioning the paddles on either side of the exposed heart. Janine felt the chill of metal against muscle, the paddles encompassing the organ like jaws. The doctor pressed them together, mashing the heart between them, the dark pink flesh compressing flat, ventricles squished until they could barely twitch.
The heart bulged at the edges, arteries distending as blood pooled. It jerked weakly, trying to beat against the vice, each attempt a feeble quiver that vibrated the paddles. "Charging to 50 joules," the doctor announced, the machine whining as it built power. The shock fired directly into the muscle. It made the organ seize, every fiber contracting at once in a violent spasm. Janine felt it as pure impact, her entire being centered on the heart's agony, the current ripping through chambers and walls.
But she didn't stop. "Again, 100 joules." Another mash. The shock hit, forcing submission. It quivered in fibrillation, no organized beats left. The doctor murmured, shocking a third time at 150.
Satisfied with the chaos, she set the paddles aside and removed her gloves. Her hand smacked the heart lightly at first, the impact sending ripples through the tissue and a jolt through Janine's helpless body. The organ jiggled under her palm, the quivering mass wobbling as she prodded it back to life. "Pump for me," she demanded, smacking harder, the sound wet and echoing. Each slap forced a contraction, the organ responding with desperate pumps, arteries swelling as blood finally surged.
She jiggled it between her fingers, shaking the heart like a toy, feeling the internal chambers slosh with fluid. The muscle trembled, trying to find rhythm amid the abuse. Janine felt the humiliation of it, how her heart danced to this woman's whims, pumping erratically. The doctor continued until the organ steadied, beating stronger and faster than ever. Adrenaline surged through it in useless effort to mount a fight or flight response.
Now it was Dr. Ena's turn. The lead doctor approached with deliberate grace, her eyes locked on the throbbing prize. She cradled the heart gently at first, her hands cupping it like a fragile artifact, fingers tracing the coronary grooves. "Such a fighter," she whispered, feeling the hard, aggressive thump against her palms. The organ nestled there, beating trustingly, each contraction a violent fit.
But tenderness was fleeting. Ena’s thumb and forefinger found the aorta—the great vessel emerging from the left ventricle, thick and elastic. She pinched it slowly, constricting the flow. The heart swelled immediately, blood backing up in the chambers, the pink muscle ballooning larger with each trapped beat. Arteries engorged, bulging like overfilled hoses, the organ straining against the blockage.
Dizziness swept Janine's mind. Her limbs tingled from the reduced output, but she remained conscious, feeling the pressure build in her chest. The heart jerked harder, trying to force blood past the pinch.
"Beg for it," Dr. Ena demanded, her voice low and commanding. "Beg for your own blood flow, Janine."
Through the tube in her throat, Janine could only manage strained huffs. Her eyes pleaded as the heart bulged in the doctor's hand. The organ throbbed with increasing frenzy and decreasing movement, chambers distended. The sensation of fullness overwhelming, like a balloon ready to burst. The heart's surface grew prominently vascular, pink turning to deep red from the strain.
The light faded behind Janine's eyes, and though her consciousness was fading, she could hear a faint whisper.
"Let go, the shamans want justice too."
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Fairy-Assisted CPR
Hope you enjoy, the story is past the reading link. f/f, size play, direct cardiac massage
Keep reading
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A dramatic scene from the movie with a simulated heartbeat and subsequent heart stopping. All on the level of Lucio Fulci. (Murder Rock — Dancing Death)
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Hey Guys, its Been a while. Some of you might remember me from my old posts... I used to drop animation snippets here and there, exploring heartbeat focused visuals that many of you really seemed to like. I really loved how supportive and curious so many of you were despite the fact I eventually lost interest in animated around that time.
That said, I’ve also had a few rough experiences here, which led to me deleting and reactivating my account multiple times. I just want to be honest and say: I’m back for now, but this isn’t necessarily a full or permanent return. More like a creative send-off.
I won’t be keeping DMs or inbox open this time — please don’t take that the wrong way. A lot of you were truly kind and respectful, but for my own peace of mind, I’ll be keeping direct messaging closed. I may still reply in comments though, depending on how things go.
Now for why I’m really here again:
I’ve been working quietly on a final animation project...something more ambitious and personal than anything I’ve shared before. It's called “A Place in My Heart.”
It’s an intimate, cardiophile-inspired short film, not lewd, not explicit but sensual, symbolic, and focused on the emotional weight we carry in our bodies. It takes the phrase “a place in my heart” and explores it literally. I also tried to make it look more cinematic than normal.
This is a visual metaphor about , love, toxic relationships, emotional stagnation, and letting go. Think detailed internal heart visuals, realistic anatomy, paired with outer physical stimuli all animated together. It's supposed to blend vulnerability, intimacy, and real cardiac dynamics into a story of someone who once lived in another’s heart… until they didn’t belong there anymore.
💔 Part 1 tells the story of a man who has grown too comfortable inside a woman’s heart...literally. But her body, and her emotional self, begin to shift. Until a new, more compatible presence looms and offers her heart more stability. The old love grown complacent is unavoidably, threatened to be expelled as she begins to move on. Not with hate but with clarity. It’s a story of growth. Of moving on. Of no longer fitting where you once did.
The full short will be made available soon, likely through Patreon or a similar platform, for a limited 2–3 week viewing window. After that, it may be made public. I’ll be transparent about access and pricing in advance — but I want to set expectations now that this is a paid-access release.
Depending on how things go, I might consider opening for commissions down the line — but again, no promises yet.
Just wanted to say thanks to those who remembered me, and to those who supported my past work. This is my proper goodbye project, and I hope some of you will find something beautiful in it.
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Here's a story I've been meaning to write for a while. It's basically a rewrite of a story that was lost when a user deactivated, involving a woman renting a cursed horror movie.
Very big warning that this is horror with blood and guts, death, and a touch of sex appeal. It does mostly focus on hearts, though!
"Come on, Sophie, don't rent that movie. You heard the stories..."
"Oh, cool it, Jenny. You don't believe a *movie* killed those people, do you?" Sophie snarked as she set the DVD on the counter for the cashier to scan. "Besides, it's the last horror flick here that I haven't seen. I sure hope it lives up to the hype."
The movie in question was simply called Slasher. The front of the box features a ragged potato-sack hood. The back is covered in the typical 'prepare for scares' text and images of the victims screaming. The rumor around this film is that everyone who's rented and watched it disappeared... Or possibly fled town. Either way, Slasher was normally dropped off at the rental store a day later without the renter in sight.
Come sundown, Sophie hummed as she set up her living room for her solo movie night. She sprawled herself out on her couch, only dressed in a nightgown. The table in front of her was decently decked out with a bowl of popcorn, a bag of chips, and some soda and water. Lights off aside from her TV with the DVD popped in, Sophie turned the movie on the moment the sun left for the night. The hype she put on herself already had her heart squirming in her chest.
Sophie idly munched on her popcorn as she watched. The movie started pretty typical with the standard horror movie music, shots into the victim's house, et cetera. The first victim in question was what had Janet curious: a stone-faced middle-aged businesswoman without much of an impressive body, changing out of her suit and into some loose clothes.
"Ooh, not starting with a pretty babe..." Sophie mumbled to herself before a sip of her soda. A fascinating change-up, but she liked this woman's appearance anyway. Her gore-hound mind was anticipating how this woman was getting killed...
BANG!
A loud bang at the victim's door startled Sophie, and she instinctively looked to her own door. She could've sworn she didn't only hear it from her TV... But there wasn't another peep, so she couldn't tell. A different, constant noise sounding from the movie caught her attention.
*badadum, badum, bada, dadum, badumda.* The film played a tense heartbeat as the businesswoman approached the door and looked through the peephole. It was so... Realistic, as if the movie truly captured the woman's tired, overworked heart pumping and skipping. Sophie was surprisingly turned on by this, her nipples starting to poke out from her nightgown.
The victim made the immediate blunder of opening her door. A hooded figure flew right at her with what appeared to be knives before closing the door behind it. The woman was left on her chair, looking in horror. Her shirt was bloodied as those knives cut her deep, and her supposed innards spilled outward.
"Wha--those are totally real...! They must've used animal guts..." Sophie muttered in amazement. Her breath grew heavy as she was thoroughly invested.
The older woman in the movie only looked in sheer terror, seemingly unable to scream. However, her heart told the whole story. *Badadum badadadum badumbadumbadum.* The organ frantically pounded and trippes over itself constantly as the slasher approached. It lifted those knives from its sleeve... On closer inspection, those were jagged claws!
The film's killer slashed at the businesswoman's belly again, ripping her shirt open and exposing more of her organs. It reached for its victim's exposed guts and seemed to appreciate its own work. The woman, meanwhile, visibly faded away. *Bada... Badum... Lub dub...dub....* She was gone. The next shot was behind the slasher's back before it left the house.
Sophie's eyes were glued to the television. Needless to say, she was adoring the lengths this film has gone so far. Although...
*thump thump thump thump--* Sophie could still hear a heartbeat, even though the victim's had stopped and the camera had left her house. Not only that, but the back of her mind picked up that the rapid pumping matched with the light banging against her ribs. However, the rest of her brain was occupied by the film. It started setting the scene for the next victim.
The scene was set on a lesser quality house before it moved into a bathroom. The camera focused on a man that could be only slightly older than Sophie, rinsing himself in the shower. He was slightly fit, and the movie didn't hesitate to show his full nudity.
The man's shaven body was bare before Sophie'e eyes, even his dick was right out for her to see. And then...
*Lubdub, lubdub, lubdub, lubdub lubdub lubdub--* The movie started to play his heartbeat. Conveniently so, as his content expression turned into a wide smile. His mind seemed to wander to something dirty, as his increasing heart rate also contributed to his cock growing erect. Sophie, of course, glued her eyes to that stiffening shaft--
*THUMP-THUMP thump thump thump* The tiny suspicion in Sophie's brain grew as suddenly as a single beat of her heart lurched her chest forward. Yet once again, a single incident hardly raised any alarms to her. Although it felt as if her little red pump was squishing against her sternum with each beat.
The man was reaching for his erection, raring to play with himself...
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Sophie jolted upright and paused the movie. The film fittingly stopped on the man looking surprised, while Sophie's eyes stared wide at her front door. Her hands then shot right to holding her chest.
It's there... Behind the door and in her hands...
*BaDUMbaDUMbaDUM* She didn't dare to look down. She could already feel her heart, literally jumping out of her chest and against her palms. Every beat somehow launched it past her sternum and it sank back in until the next split-second beat. The only thing that kept it inside was her skin. However, now she knew for sure she wasn't safe...
BANGBANG--CRASH! The door was smashed apart!
Sophie bolted off the couch, nearly tripping on her face as she ran up the stairs to the second floor.
She sat by a wall obscuring the staircase, her chest heaving and her hands over her heart. She had caught enough of a glimpse before she ran... That familiar ragged hood was at the door.
Sophie now looked down, seeing that her heart was permanently lodged between her sternum and her skin. She can see every detail outlined by her stretched flesh. The organ's flapping chambers, its bulging arteries, she can even see some of its red hue through her fair skin. Two things only mounted her despair: a strange thudding downstairs that she struggled to describe as footsteps... And her skin growing redder as she could feel it give way to her adrenaline-filled pump.
The new victim gave up hiding her loud heart for the moment and took the opportunity to scramble across the second floor, into her bedroom. She could only hide in her closet at this point.
Sophie kept her eyes peeled through the slotted door as the odd shuffling only grew closer and closer. The limited lighting highlighted her bulging heart, and she could see tears in her skin that exposed the glistening muscle. It was hopeless, and it felt as if the survival instinct in her brain fought with her heart's apparent decision to give her away. Either way, everything started to blur as she waited. The slasher kept a calm pace, closer and closer...
Sophie barely registered when the killer swung the closet door opened, or that she was leaning on it and fell on her back to the floor... Or that her shimmering ruby pump finally broke out of her chest and plopped onto the ground. The organ laid there, frantically thrashing as it remained connected to its owner.
Sophie couldn't even register what horrific sight was under that hood, only that it wasn't human. And her very last sight was of the slasher's claws so gently picking her heart up... And a long tongue slithered out of the hood to give it a taste.
The next day, Slasher was dropped off at the rental store the minute it opened.
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another heartbeat file for you 🫀
she’s somewhere between relaxed and excited here. sometimes i feel like she doesn’t race, she pounds. and i’ve been loving her extra thumpy-ness lately 💗
let me know what you think 🫶🏼
i promise i’ll get audio and video together soon! it makes me heart horny just thinking about it tbh hehe
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played around with some adjustment layers in after effects, got a neat xray effect going with inverting the layer and changing some blend modes
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Heartbeat Collection Vol.1
Here are all my SFM heartbeat I made,
Model belongs to Mrwarfaremachine, Carbiid3, Sorok17, AeridicCore, Cryptia Curves (SFM port by Domibun)
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Heartercourse
Mindy was indulging in a moment of forbidden intimacy with her secret lover, Annabelle Shim. In Mindy's private quarters, a luxurious space draped in rich fabrics and dimly lit by soft, ambient light, she was smooching and touching every bit of Annabelle's slim and soft physique.
Mindy and Annabelle were dressed in minimal, form-fitting attire: sports bras and latex hot pants that clung to their bodies like a second skin. The material highlighted every curve, every contour, emphasizing their athletic forms. Their hearts raced with a mix of excitement and anticipation as they shared a deep, passionate kiss, their lips melding together with an urgency born of both love and desire.
Annabelle's power was a marvel that Mindy never ceased to be fascinated by. She could phase through solid objects with ease, slipping through walls and barriers as if they were made of air.
Even more intriguing was her ability to control the density of her body, adjusting it with precision to suit any situation. This unique talent made her an invaluable asset in their world of super-powered beings, but it was not the only reason Mindy adored her.
As their kiss deepened and their tongues vigorously intertwined with each other, Mindy's hand slid down to rest over the center of Annabelle's bosom, feeling the rapid thrum of her lover's heartbeat beneath the thin fabric, in between her tender breasts.
The sound of Annabelle’s heart, which Mindy could listen to using her enhanced hearing, sent a thrill through Mindy's insides. She loved the feeling of it, the raw power of life encapsulated in that hammering, rhythmic pulse. It was not just the orgasmic sensation of being close to Annabelle's heart that drew her; it was the unique pleasure she derived from touching it, feeling it pound rapidly against her palm.
Annabelle, aware of Mindy’s particular proclivity, gave a small, knowing smile and whispered against her lips,
"You want to feel it, don’t you?"
Mindy’s eyes glittered with a combination of lust and affection.
“You know me too well,” she murmured in response. Annabelle, looking directly into MIndy's loving eyes, phased her breast ever so slightly, allowing Mindy's fingers to gradually slip through the flesh, bypassing the sternum to rest directly against her beating, pounding heart.
For Mindy, the sensation was exquisite—a soft, warm pulsation that beat rhythmically against her hand. She loved the fact that she had access to the most important organ inside Annabelle's beautiful body.
Mindy's fingers then curled gently around the beating organ, her thumb stroking over the atria with a tenderness that belied the strength she possessed.
The feeling of Annabelle's heart, so alive and vibrant, filled her with a sense of power and intimacy that was beyond comparison. She loved the way it responded to her touch, the way it seemed to quicken and throb more forcefully, as if recognizing the presence of her warm hand.
Annabelle gasped, a shiver running through her as Mindy’s hand caressed her hammering heart. The sensation was a heady mix of vulnerability and pleasure, a reminder of the deep connection they shared. She trusted Mindy implicitly, allowing her to touch this most vital part of her being, knowing that her lover would never harm her.
"How does it feel?" Mindy asked, her voice a low, seductive murmur. She gently squeezed, feeling the muscle contract and relax in response. It was a delicate balance, applying just enough pressure to feel the power of the heart without causing pain.
"It feels... incredible," Annabelle replied, her voice breathless. Her heart raced faster under Mindy’s touch, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure and excitement through her body.
She loved how Mindy could make her heart beat harder, how each touch seemed to resonate through her entire being.
Mindy’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction, her cardiophilic tendencies finding fulfillment in the rhythmic throb of the slimy, tender organ beneath her fingers.
She squeezed again, a little more firmly this time, reveling in the way Annabelle’s breath hitched and her body arched into her touch.
"Your heart is so strong," Mindy whispered, her lips brushing against Annabelle’s ear. "I love feeling it, knowing that it beats for me."
Annabelle moaned softly, her body quivering with the intensity of the sensation. She loved how Mindy made her feel, loved the connection they shared that went beyond the physical, tapping into something deeper, more primal.
“Mmmf..” Annabelle groaned, wincing her eyes slightly. “Huff.. Huff.. Mindy.. Huff.. Squeeze me a little harder..”
“Silly girl..” Mindy murmured, squishing Annabelle's beating heart a tad more. “You like that?”
“Hhhuuccckkk..!!” Annabelle gasped, feeling immense pressure inside her very core. “Fuck.. I love that.. I fucking love it.”
“Sometimes I never get you masochists..” Mindy stated, feeling Annabelle's heart pound faster and faster. “But I love how you just let me inside of you..”
Annabelle, for her part, reveled in the unique pleasure of having her heart held in Mindy’s capable hands. There was a thrill to it, a heady mix of vulnerability and trust that made her heart pound faster.
She loved the sensation of Mindy's fingers wrapping around her heart, the gentle pressure that sent waves of sensation coursing through her body. Each squeeze made her heart beat harder, sending a surge of blood rushing through her veins and a flood of serotonin into her brain. The feeling was almost euphoric, a blend of physical and emotional satisfaction that left her breathless and exhilarated.
With each gentle squeeze, Mindy applied just enough pressure to feel the heart contract and relax beneath her fingers, its motion stifled by the loving yet firm grip. Annabelle's heart responded eagerly, pounding faster and harder, straining against the constriction.
The pressure created a sensation of intensity and pleasure that Annabelle found deeply satisfying. She loved how her heart seemed to fight against the hold, each beat growing more insistent as it struggled to pump within the limited space.
The physical limitation of its motion only heightened the satisfaction she felt, her body responding with a rush of pleasure that left her dizzy and flushed.
Mindy’s eyes gleamed with a mix of fascination and desire as she tightened her grip around Annabelle’s heart, her fingers closing in with a deliberate pressure that caused the organ to abruptly slow down.
“Hhhhuucccccckkkk..!!!”
Annabelle gasped loudly, her breath hitching as her heart stumbled into an irregular rhythm. The sensation was intense, a chaotic mix of desperation, slight pain, and overwhelming pleasure.
Annabelle’s eyes widened, her body arching as waves of sensation coursed through her. She could feel her heart struggling against the constriction, its rhythm faltering under the tight grasp. The pleasure was almost unbearable, every beat sending jolts of ecstasy through her nervous system. The irregular pounding, the feeling of her heart being squeezed so intimately, was unlike anything she had ever experienced; almost like having her clitoris triggered simultaneously with her insides.
“Hucck..!!! Fuck..! It feels… so… fucking intense.. Grab it harder.. Ugghh! Harder!!”
Instead of pain, Annabelle felt an intense rush of pleasure. The sensation overwhelmed her, her entire body shivering as the delight filled her senses. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the overwhelming feelings coursing through her. The sight of Mindy's wrist buried inside her chest cavity, her hand holding onto her heart, sent another surge of euphoria through her.
Mindy’s fascination deepened as she felt Annabelle's heart hammering against her grip. Driven by a blend of desire and curiosity, she began to pull gently on the heart, feeling the resistance as Annabelle’s body was drawn toward her.
“Huff.. Huff.. Huff.. Hhkk..!!”
Annabelle gasped once again, the sensation of her heart being both tightly grasped and tugged on sending another wave of pleasure and satisfaction through her insides. Her body followed the pull, moving closer until their soft, tender breasts pressed against each other, separated only by Mindy’s hand embedded inside her chest.
The contact was electric, their bodies melding together as they shared the intimate space. Mindy could feel Annabelle’s constant, rapid heartbeat through her hand, the irregular rhythm a testament to the intensity of the moment.
Annabelle’s breath came in long but uneven gasps, her bosom rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to cope with the overwhelming sensations.
With a look of deep affection and desire, Mindy leaned in, their lips meeting in a gradual but deeply passionate kiss. Their mouths moved together with a practiced rhythm, tongues swirling and twirling inside each other’s mouths.
Annabelle’s breath hitched, the constriction on her heart and the intervention of Mindy’s knuckles on her inner right lung making it difficult to breathe properly, but she didn’t care. The pleasure far outweighed any discomfort, and she reveled in the feeling of Mindy’s hand clutching her heart.
“Mmmff.. Mmm….”
As they kissed, Annabelle felt a surge of pleasure and warmth spreading through her body. The sensation of her heart being held and controlled by Mindy was both exhilarating and intoxicating. She loved the vulnerability, the trust, and the intense connection they shared in that moment. Every heartbeat, every movement, was another tide of bliss.
Mindy, feeling the rapid, irregular beating of Annabelle’s heart against her palm, deepened the kiss, her other arm cradling Annabelle’s smooth hip. She could sense the pleasure radiating from Annabelle, the way her body responded to the sensations.
A few minutes later, Mindy’s hand slowly exited Annabelle’s chest, leaving behind a sensation of profound intimacy and connection. Annabelle de-phased her flesh, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt her heart still thumping rapidly but uncontrollably beneath her bosom. The irregular rhythm gradually began to settle, but the intense experience left her panting and flushed.
Mindy glanced at her hand, now covered in Annabelle’s blood, and with a mischievous smile, licked some of it off her fingers. The sight was both intimate and primal, a testament to the deep bond they shared. As Annabelle began to collapse from the toll the experience had taken on her body, Mindy quickly caught her, cradling Annabelle’s back with her right arm and bringing her lover close.
With effortless grace, Mindy lifted Annabelle from the ground, their bodies pressed together as she slightly floated towards their bed. The feeling of weightlessness added a surreal element to the moment, highlighting the extraordinary nature of their relationship. Gently, Mindy laid Annabelle down on the soft bed, her touch tender and caring.
Annabelle’s breathing gradually began to even out, her chest rising and falling steadily. She could feel her heart returning to its regular rhythm. Thump. Thump. The comforting, familiar beat reassured her as her body adjusted from the intense ordeal. A smile spread across her face as she looked up at Mindy, her eyes shining with love and contentment.
Mindy leaned down, their faces inches apart, and their lips met once more in a deep, passionate kiss. The kiss was a reaffirmation of their bond, a silent promise that they would always be there for each other, no matter what challenges lay ahead. Their tongues danced together, the kiss filled with the same intensity and connection they had shared moments before.
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🧙♀️⚡🫀Veronica's Downfall (Magical electro+ heart torment.)

Veronica leaned against the cave wall, breathing heavily after a long day of battles. The flickering light of her campfire cast mysterious shadows on the rocky walls. "A decent shelter for the night," she muttered to herself, beginning to set a protective ward around the perimeter.
Veronica's ward shimmered faintly at the cave entrance as she laid down and closed her eyes, her breaths deep and even. The subtle glow illuminated her athletic, toned body sprawled on the bedroll. Blonde hair fanned out around her features.
Veronica's steady breathing echoed through the cave as she slept, golden hair spilling across her bedroll, her muscular form still and serene in slumber.
Yanil approached her meditation cave, eager for quiet solitude. But as she neared the entrance, an unnatural glow emanated from within - a shimmering veil of light blocked her. Someone had dared to intrude upon her sacred space!
wearing a bright grin, Yanil placed a pale hand on the luminous barrier. It crackled and sparked at her touch. "How adorable, they think this will keep me out."
She took a step back and closed her eyes, focusing inward. Tingling energy surged through her slender form. In a flash, her body transformed into pure electricity. The crackling blue current that was Yanil flowed forward, probing the rocky walls for gaps and fissures. Finding a narrow crack, she poured herself through, slipping past the magical seal like water through a sieve.
Yanil slipped inside like an electric shadow, her lithe frame materializing from sparks and flickers. A wicked grin spread across her pale face as she crept towards the sleeping warrior. Veronica's powerful essence called to her, enticing and invigorating.
The witch licked her lips, drinking in the sight of Veronica's toned body, the raw strength evident even in rest. She knelt beside the slumbering woman. Delicate yet dangerous fingertips hovering just above soft and inviting skin that covered a mighty vitality.
"You'll make a lovely little pet" she whispered. Yanil wrapped her slender arms around Veronica, pressing her body against the warrior's, waking the woman. As Veronica felt something amiss, Yanil could feel Veronica's mighty heart pounding through layers of taut muscle. The strong woman's chest rose and fell with each deep breath, her body pulsing with vigorous life.
Yanil shivered... she had never felt a heartbeat so strong, so full of raw vitality. It made her petite body quake as it punched into her frame.
Veronica's eyes met Yanil’s.
"What the hell are you doing?!" she growled, twisting to throw Yanil off. But Yanil clung tight, giggling manically.
Blue sparks danced across Yanil's fingertips.
"You're such a heavy sleeper, sweetheart," Yanil said. "I think it’s cute..."
Before Veronica could react, Yanil sent a shock of magic directly into her chest. The warrior cried out, body jerking and spasming as the electric jolt seized her heart. Yanil clung tightly, shuddering in sadistic glee as she felt the mighty muscle writhe and flutter in her embrace.
"Get...off...me..." Veronica gritted out, trying to throw the witch off. But her struggles only excited Yanil more.
Yanil directed another surge into Veronica's flailing body, forcing her pounding heart into agonized submission. The warrior collapsed to her back with a groan.
"Shhh, don't fight it," Yanil said softly, stroking her fingers over Veronica's breastbone as she perched atop the breathless woman’s hips. "Just relax and let me have my fun."
As the warrior’s consciousness waned. Yanil alternated the shocks with forceful chest compressions, sadistically coaxing the organ to pound before subduing it once more with crackling energy. Veronica gasped and convulsed beneath her, back arching, fingers clawing at the ground.
Yanil leaned down, raven hair brushing Veronica's face as she captured her lips in a searing kiss, breathing life into starving lungs. She pulled back and gazed into defiant hazel eyes clouded with pain and terror. Beautiful. “Aww, how’d you lose to a delicate little thing like me?” Yanil said with a menacing smile.
Veronica’s panicked eyes darted around until they landed on her trusty blade. She lunged for her sword, fingers grasping the leather-wrapped hilt. With a warrior's cry, she swung the blade in a deadly arc towards the witch.
But Yanil was too quick. The witch seized Veronica's wrist in a delicate grip, sending jolts of crackling energy surging through the warrior woman's arm. Veronica convulsed as sparks danced across her skin. Her fingers spasmed open and the sword clattered to the stone floor.
"Tsk tsk, naughty girl," Yanil purred, her black lips curving in a wicked smile. "You'll need to be punished dearly for that."
Delicate fingers, alive with sparks, slid across Veronica's collarbone and down between her heaving breasts. Yanil's touch passed through skin like a ghost, burying deep in Veronica's chest. The warrior gasped as those slender digits wrapped around her frantically beating heart and began to explore.
"Mmm, how cute it really is, so warm and feisty…" Yanil murmured, breath hot against Veronica's ear. "I can feel every throb, every quiver." Her fingers mapped the pulsing contours, delicately yielding to its vigorous pulse as it pinned her hand to the woman’s sternum.
“Now for your punishment.” Yanil sent a sharp jolt of electricity surging into the quivering organ and squeezed. Veronica let out an agonized scream as her mighty heart spasmed violently before wiggling like jello in Yanil's grasp. Her athletic frame writhed, losing strength quickly.
"Oopsie, I think I overdid it a bit," Yanil giggled as the once powerful organ fell limp and still. She gave the pliant ventricles a patronizing little shake. "Wakey wakey!"
"Please... mercy..." Veronica whimpered with the air left in her lungs, eyes wide with fear.
Yanil smirked, reveling in the once proud warrior's pathetic begging. She leaned in close, ebony hair brushing Veronica's cheek as she breathed into her captive's quivering lungs and squeezed her flailing life. Veronica's body shuddered in a mix of revulsion and desperation as she fought for control of her fluttering diaphragm. “No…” Yanil said with a smile.
Yanil pressed her fingers into Veronica's quivering heart, feeling the muscle twitch beneath her fingers. A thrill pulsed through Yanil's body at the touch, her own heart jerking her around in the excitement. She began to squeeze and massage the heart, coaxing it back to life, keeping the woman in the twilight of consciousness.
A moan escaped Yanil's lips as the heart spasmed in her grip. "Come on, cutie. Let's get that blood pumping again," she said. Her delicate fingers rhythmically compressed the thick, meaty organ, forcing it to contract and relax. Veronica's body jolted with each pulse as the witch forced blood through her veins.
Yanil dragged her fingertips across the heart's slick surface, sending tiny electric shocks into the sensitive cardiac muscle. It quivered and clenched erratically under her touch. She pressed her palm firmly against it, savoring the sensation of its strengthening beat against her skin.
"That's it, fight for me," Yanil whispered sultrily. She continued her sensual cardiac massage, squeezing and caressing, until she felt a steady pulse in its form. As the heart gained feeble rhythm, Yanil traced a finger along a bulging artery, applying pressure, making the struggling organ strain and throb against the restriction.
Despite the torturous ministrations, Veronica's stubborn heart found its natural rhythm, pumping defiantly of its own accord between Yanil's cruel compressions.
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