reaaintstraight

[reaaintstraight]

What about combining that little prince of yours with dark cardio? Finding him stabbed, feeling his heart struggling to beat, hands deep in his chest to stitch his myocardium back together....

I like the way you think! I can just imagine finding my liege in the castle's most isolated atrium, crumpled to the floor. His figure, usually so striking and noble, looks tiny in the spacious room. There's no response when I call out to him—not that I need confirmation something is terribly wrong with this scene.

I break into a run. It probably hurts as my knees slam to the polished stone beside him, but I neither notice nor care. I whisper his given name, caress his pallid face. He doesn't stir. I nudge his shoulder so he lies on his back. A crimson stain, rich and deadly, has bloomed across his embroidered finery. My heart drops.

Curling my fingers under the ruined fabric, I tear it away from his body. I take a moment to survey the labored expansion and contraction of his ribcage. In the center of it all, just below his sternum, a gash weeps royal blood. Ever so gently, I place a hand as close to the wound as I dare. His heart convulses uselessly; perforated, without a doubt.

Voice cracking, I cry for help, for someone to bring my bag. The only reply I hear is the echo of my own words. Before confusion at this can set in, there's a terrifying pause where everything in his chest goes still. Almost on instinct, I press my lips to his and breathe for him, feel his ribs shift and his heart spasm. I murmur to him, I'll be back, this will just take a second, wait for me. I fill his lungs again, then sprint to grab supplies.

My footsteps echo in abandoned halls. Where is everyone? The emptiness is probably for the best. God help anyone who gets in my way right now.

Returning to his side, my hands shake as I thread the smallest needle I have. I grit my teeth, reaching for a scalpel. Though it feels like I'm causing more harm than good, I widen the cut, giving myself space to work on my prince's heart.

As I ease the needle through the orifice, the slickness of his flesh on my skin captivates me. His shallow breaths press his lungs to me, warm and pillowy, as he inhales. And his heart. I've felt his pulse in every way one could imagine, but I'm feeling his most vital organ throb directly against me. It's... intimate. Intoxicating. Or it would be, if the poor thing wasn't dependent on me to repair its slashed chambers, if his life wasn't hanging in the balance.

Actually, the scale of this is greater than his life. As much as I love him, as much as I need to save him for his sake, for our sake, he's one of the most powerful individuals in the region. In this moment, I hold sway over life and death and the kingdom's stability.

Shit, that's a lot. The sense of total control threatens to make my head spin. I snuff the voice in a corner of my mind that begs to revel in it—mending his viscera should be my only focus. I return to my task.

It's hard to tell where his myocardium was pierced. Though I pull at the edges of the rift to get a better view, everything pulsates and glistens brilliant red. It seems I can't rely on sight for this. I slide my other hand through the incision to map the surface of his heart with my fingertips. His ventricles swell, and I pinpoint the laceration as it spreads open, leaking the precious fluid. Whispering meaningless apologies, I grip the slit shut. I start to sew, slipping the needle in and out of the muscle in the dead silence between beats. That is, if these distressed flutters can be called beats.

I'm no tailor, but after a few stitches, it seems I've managed to repair the damage. At the very least, there isn't a gush of blood into his chest cavity with every wave of his pulse. I extract the needle, rummaging in my bag for scissors. I can't find them. Lowering close enough for copper to fill my mouth, I sever the thread between my canines.

With that done, I monitor his arrhythmia, shifting my touch from his wrist to his neck to his apex. A minute ticks by, yet it doesn't stabilize.

He needs more from me.

His body accepts me readily, opening for me to sink into him once again. I envelop his heart in my hand, feeling the sutures bite my palm. It arrests in my grasp, then twitches. I encourage its movement, compressing each pair of chambers in turn. For good measure, I kiss air into him as well. His shaky lungs yield to my breath, then refuse to fully inflate on their own. Though I try to be gentle, nothing inside him regains any rhythm; my urgency must not be getting through. Almost unconsciously, I start praising him, telling him he's doing so well, I know he can recover sinus rhythm for me. My fingers tighten, pumping his blood harder.

Finally, finally a kick of his heart feels purposeful, a bit more coordinated than the previous faltering vibrations. The organ shudders a second time, throwing a weak but distinct two-part beat. I perform a few extra compressions. It feels good to be working with his body instead of opposing it.

Though the thudding behind his ribs is far too slow, it comes at steady intervals. After counting 10, 20, 50 sedate heartbeats without any irregularities, I pull out of him. No longer immersed in the heat of his entrails, a chill hits me.

I wrap a hand around his throat, regaining some warmth through his skin. Reassured by the flow of blood I feel there, I close him up. After I finish, a row of neat stitches adorns his chest, mirroring the one inside him. The threads contort slightly as he breathes, as his heart pushes up against them.

Sitting back, I have to fight the urge to pass out beside him on the stone. It isn't safe here.

My lower half has gone numb from kneeling, a fact I don't notice until I try to stand. While I regain feeling in my legs, I gather my supplies so as not to leave any sign of what happened. To this end, I scrub splatters of blood off the ground around us. It's a bit of fantastical luck that he didn't bleed so much as to be lying in a puddle.

Steady enough now to lift my prince, I set off for my quarters. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to stumble down this familiar hallway to this familiar room.

I lower him atop the bedcovers, then drop my bag to the floor. Kicking aside the instruments that scattered as it fell, I rush to slam and lock the door, the windows.

I return to my lord's side. He always has a regal air about him, but after this ordeal he hardly looks the part. I should set about making him comfortable. The fire I left burning earlier hasn't died; I stoke the dwindling flame and set water over it. As I wait, I summon the energy to push a desk in front of the door. The entrance barred, I can breathe easier.

Warm water, boiled clean, loosens the dried blood on his face, in his hair. His regalia is soaked with mingling biofluids. I pull it off to drag the cloth across his ribcage, and flinch at the sight. Gore no longer obscures the wound, and it's obvious it's going to leave a scar.

Gaze still fixed on the damage, I wring bloody water from the washrag, over and over until I realize the dry fabric is chafing me. Since I found him collapsed, I've felt panic and terror and desperation, and now... rage begins to burn as I think of the person responsible for this. I recheck the locks on every exit. Only once that's dealt with do I feel that I can collapse next to him. His eyes haven't opened, but the color in his face and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest ease my mind. I hold his wrist, feel the blood coursing beneath his skin. It's not enough.

My touch drifts, leaving his radial pulse for his carotid. Delicately, as if he's made of glass, I place my other palm on his sternum. The soft thumps of his heart reverberate up both my arms, resonating somewhere behind my own sternum.

Whoever thought they could lay claim to my prince's life like that... whoever thought they'd try to take this precious pulse away from me...

By my hand, their heart will beat its last.

[reaaintstraight]

CPR and Defib on Women

Compressions 🥵 Look at her breasts 👀,

Open to trade, Also I love videos, CPR with Soft Fleece Blankets

[reaaintstraight]

A sexy game

I found you on the bed, prone, with your arms and legs out in a starfish type of position. Your white lacy bra and matching panties seemed out of place to the situation; it's like you were waiting for me. The pill bottle was next to you, empty and I knew I had just picked those meds up this morning. The defibrillator was placed on the bedside table next to you... I knew you were a gift for me to play with so I did....

I place my ear on your chest and feel no movement of breath and no sound beneath your buxom breast. I straddle your lean waist and lift your neck as I pinch your nose and seal my lips around yours. I feel your breasts rise into mine as I exhale into your mouth, your cheeks puffing out. I take off my shirt so I can feel the sensation of your breasts on mine better before giving you a second breath. Your white bra against my red, our nipples meeting briefly as your chest rises and falls with my oxygen sending electricity down my spine and hopefully yours too.

Next, I place my hands between your breasts and push down as hard as I can. Your chest caves inward and your stomach rises up into my pelvis. I feel it graze me swollen clit through my shorts. I count outloud to thirty as each compression causes the same stimulation before I lean down and breathe for you again. My pelvis becomes wetter with this second round of breaths of life and I rock back and forth to get more stimulation on my own breasts as yours rise and fall.

"Come on baby! Stay with me!" I say with conviction and a smile on my face. This is our greatest game and I am loving every second of it.

After five minutes I reach underneath you and unclasp your bra and allow you to spill out and rip it off you entirely. I kiss each breast generously before I grab the defibrillator and place the pads on your chest gently. I continue compressions while the machine warms up counting loudly, hoping that you can hear me. "Baby, you gotta stay with me!" I beg.

"Shock advised!" I climb off of you and stand next to the bed, pulling off my shorts as I do so. I slip my fingers down my panties as I press the shock button with the other hand. You jump off the bed and slam back down. I press it again as I rub myself deeply and moan loudly. You jump again and I keep my eyes on your breasts the entire time watching each and every jiggle and sway that they make as a shock goes across your chest electrifying your heart.

Now I stand next to you and pull you closer to the edge and do proper compression in a standing position. My hands rest differently on your chest at this angle and I push harder and harder. Your nipples are hard and erect between my fingers as my palm presses deeply into your sternum. I stop to give you two more breath and watch your chest out of the corner of my eye. I continue on for another minute before the machine advises another shock. "Shocking! Clear!" I yell and watch as your whole back arches, your nipples peaks of high mountains as they reach to the ceiling. "Shocking again. Come back to my baby!"

As you land back on the bed, you take a deep, gasping breath after this second one and turn your head and smile. Breathlessly you say, "I hope you had a good birthday my love..." . I smile as I continue rubbing my clit watching your chest move on its own now.

You have difficulty moving, presumably because of the pain in your chest, but you grab me by the bra and pull me down to kiss me. I climb on top of you and kiss you deeply using your upper leg as a post to grind against. Your hands undo the clasp in the back and my breasts pour out, hanging down onto yours. You grab my breast as I rub back and forth and moan loudly as I climax right on top of you.

When I'm done I ask... "Is it my turn now?"

[reaaintstraight]

Yes please doctor. Who's around to shock me haha

🤭🤭🤭🤭

[reaaintstraight]

Resus torture!!

[reaaintstraight]

Cpr resus defib lady

[reaaintstraight]

defib

defib girl

[reaaintstraight]

Sedated, intubated, monitored and observed by nurses. All in peace. Apparently...