can you feel a pulse?

Catarina laid her head back against the overstuffed pillows, her hair spilling out in a halo of gold ringlets. Her stormy, nearly silver eyes bore into the creature hovering above her in the shape of a woman. A lovely woman at that. Lovely skin, a deep onyx that was almost purple in certain lights, black hair clipped short to the scalp, round full lips, eyes like burning coals. Even if her features morphed into that of a bat when the light fell across her nose and mouth, even if she had the face of demons painted in every church inside which Catarina had spent her childhood; she was still beautiful. Beautiful and hers. Her Lady Angelique. Her fallen angel.

The tip of her claw traced over the many layers of fabric packed around Catarina’s pale belly and the cloth parted under her hands. Laces snapped and cloth ripped with hardly a noise of complaint. When her long, wickedly hooked nail came to the middle of Catarina’s chest, she swiped up, and her round breasts fell as the last of her bustier gave way at once. Despite so many nights of this creature coming to her in the dead of night, she still blushed to be exposed before her, turning away as her cheeks and chest flushed red. The air between them grew heavier, and she knew Angelique was scenting the blood flooding closer to her skin. Her talons came to lay against Catarina's ribcage. Her thumb curved beneath one breast, the rest of her long and elegant fingers curling around her side. Her heart beat madly, tapping against the creature's palm. She lowered her face, her nose swiping up the valley of her breasts.

"You're starving, aren't you, love?" she whispered in the dark, braving her hands to rest against Angelique's thin arms. Deceptively thin. Underneath, she could still feel the rippling of muscles. She could plunge that hand under Catarina's ribs and tear her open, if it pleased her.

"I never come to you starving, mon petit peau de vin. I would not be able to help myself." Her lips grazed over the curve of her shoulder. "I would be a beast to you."

Catarina reached up, slipping her hand between the gap in her beast's simple cotton shirt, laces undone to the middle of her chest, and cupped one of her small breasts in turn. "I like when you're beastly."

She chuckled against her freckle dusted chest. "Non. You don't. You have not seen me as a beast yet."

Her fingers rolled over Angelique's nipple, watching the edges of her shape as she held herself aloft above Catarina's bed. The creature's hand moved up to the slope of her chest, feeling with delicately curved fingers how her heart leapt there, that little space where it jumped against her skin in her excitement.

"Do you like feeling my heart?" Angelique nodded at the question, turning her hand to press her palm a bit harder against the breastbone. Just hard enough her heart beat up against the sudden intrusion and sped a little. "I have no heart of my own," said the creature, "I envy you for it."

Her lips curled and she resettled against the bed, laying her arms above her head. "Shall we play that game again?"

She couldn't see her naked brow arch in the dark, but she felt it. "Oh? Did you enjoy it last time, mon petit peau de vin?" Catarina nodded. "I liked being at your mercy." The beast chuckled low and husky. "You are always at my mercy, sweet dove." Still, her hand trailed up, nails gingerly dragging over the surface of her skin, to wrap around her throat. Catarina's thighs instinctively rubbed against one another.

"We won't be playing for awhile after this, oui? I do not want to damage that lovely lump of gray matter behind that pretty face." Catarina giggled at her words and nodded her assent. "Promise, not for a little while," she said, "Just tonight."

So she began. Angelique's thumb tapped against the carotid artery in her throat in time with her rapid pattering heartbeat. "I see your heart, snug and content between your lungs. You don't notice it most of the time, the hard work it puts in to make your cheeks flush under my gaze." Her mouth lowered to lick a stripe over Catarina's sternum. "But it feels a little slower, no? And a little slower still." As she said this, Catarina's heart did indeed slow its steady gallop, and the tapping thumb slowed its pace as well. Her breaths came a little deeper and slower, even if her head swam a bit from the sudden drop. "You can feel it open and shutter its gate with each pulse of blood. Squeezing out through your entire body. But there's less blood to go around now." So there was. Her fingers prickled with cold.

Angelique lowered her mouth to her shoulder, dragging her fangs in two little lines down the skin there. It was just enough to draw blood, and it welled up from the wounds on her tongue as she licked back up over the twin lines she'd made. "Mmh. Eager, aren't we? Your blood practically leaps for my tongue, sweet dove." Catarina slid her leg in between the creature's, spurring her back into their game. "Ah, but that workhorse behind your ribs. It's slowing down more, isn't it? A little slower. A little slower." Catarina tried to keep her angel's devil eyes in her sight, but it was hard. Her head kept nodding, her lids getting heavier, until those twin flames in the blackness of her room were distant fires. Her brain told her to breathe, her body, so accustomed to living, fought against this gentle death. Even if it wouldn't be permanent, her ancient systems, taught her entire life to keep her heart beating and her brain thinking and her lungs breathing, did not know the creature's plans. Her brain snapped orders for her lungs to take a breath and she heard the choked, snoring sound she emitted with the attempt.

Her angel brought her lips to the artery still pushing blood, valiantly trying to keep up with its one job; keep her alive. She didn't feel anything but the slight rush of cold where her fangs buried into the soft meat of her throat. The flat of Angelique's tongue rolled over her pale neck, drawing her lifeblood away from her slowing heart. There was only the slight pulling sensation to Catarina's fading awareness. Her pulse swelled against the creature's lips, each hot spurt of blood down her angel's throat providing one less ounce of life to her body.

Finally, after a few great, gulping mouthfuls, Angelique drew away just enough to whisper against the shell of her ear. "And now... it stops."

And it did.

Her heart finally slowed to a stop, pooling one last spurt of blood inside her chest before it went still. The last wisp of oxygen left her lungs in a quiet rasp, her chest falling under the beast’s hand, cupped against her ribcage once more. She leaned over her prize for a moment after, her lips still against her pulse point, reveling in the feeling of her stillness and the blood still gently leaking from the puncture wounds in her neck. She swiped out at the thin trickles with her tongue and drew back up, settling her weight against Catarina’s hips. Even in the pitch black of the room, the quickly vanishing remains of her body heat glowed like embers, and her slack face was clear enough to the beast. She’d never had a willing feed source, let alone one that liked this game.

Angelique skated her palm up from the side of her ribs to the center of Catarina’s sternum. Those gray eyes stared up lifeless into her face, but she knew awareness still lingered behind them. Even as her throat worked of its own accord and she made another one of those wet, rasping noises of a failed breath. She had enough power in her body to cave in every bone in her body, so she relegated herself to one hand as she began to pump the heel of her palm into Angelique’s still heart. The other she let drift over the girl’s cheek, slid down her jawline, skimming over the artificial pulse she was creating in her neck.

Catarina watched, both outside herself and in. She felt her ribcage bend a surprising amount without breaking, though perhaps it would. She’d liked the last time when it had, and she couldn’t so much as breathe at court without thinking of her monster. It had pleased her beyond words to bear the mark of her love in the blackened bruise of her sternum. And she had been so tender after, almost apologetic. That didn’t stop her from beating against her heart just as hard this time. She pictured the swell of blood, pulling into and pushing out of arteries, cycling back through her heart at the behest of the woman sat astride her. She wanted her to kiss her, but knew she had no breath in her own lungs to give. Catarina was only playing a corpse, while Angelique had to suffer as one.

“You’re still wet,” the creature mused. Her free hand had slid down from the artery in her throat to the one at the apex of her thighs. Her fingers moved between their bodies and found her femoral, feeling each compression against her heart push blood down through her extremities. “You are such an odd little dove.” Her fingers dragged a bit over to the side, parting her slick folds with hooked claws. But she was gentle, always gentle for her prize. She rubbed against her entrance with a knuckle, the pad of her thumb rubbing her clit in tandem, careful not to claw something sensitive.

Catarina wanted to moan, but all that came out was a croaking breath. Angelique worked her fingers over her plump lips and eased them inside, still gentle as she guided the curved talons at the end of her slender digits into her. They scraped just enough against her inner walls that she would have hissed in pain if she had any control of her vocal cords or lungs. The creature pushed harder against her ribcage now, a faster rhythm that she created with one hand and felt with the other. She preferred it when her dove’s own racing heartbeat was mirrored inside her, not the beat she made for her while the organ lay motionless inside her ribcage, but she enjoyed it never the less. Each hard pummel against her sternum made her soft, round belly pop up, tapping against her own sex, which made her shiver. Her full breasts rippled from the force of each compression, swaying to the rhythm. Angelique moved in and out of her to the beat she created for her, coaxing another strangled attempt at a breath from Catarina.

Angelique’s eyes burned like hellfire as she stared down into her prize’s unblinking gaze. “Will you come back willingly, dove? Or do you need a little more motivation?”

Catarina wanted to scream, “Yes, god, yes, I’ll refuse any attempt at revival until you kiss me. Kiss me and take me.” But she couldn’t move. She was in the hands of the vampire, just where she wanted to be. Still, Angelique seemed to hear and smiled at her desperate spirit. She leaned down, pausing her compressions, her attempts to beat life back into her, and laid her palm flat against her heart. There was nothing there, of course, and without her manually pumping blood through her ventricles the pulse in her warm cunt died too. Still, she lowered her body down so her small breasts and bony clavicle brushed against Catarina’s full bosom, her hardened nipples. Her lips parted, tongue pressing between her sharp canines and she leaned in to take her mouth. It offered no resistance, nor did it reciprocate her affection, but she went on kissing anyway, tongue probing her still mouth. Catarina’s lung shuddered with another failed attempt at breathing and she gasped into her mouth. Her fingers moved in a restless, quickening pace, drawing her muscles tighter as she neared her climax. As if joining in the growing excitement, her heart had taken up a fluttering, inconsequential cadence, too weak to draw her away from the limbo she was still caught in.

When Angelique pulled away, she smiled down at her dove, fingers flicking like a snake tongue in and out her dripping gash. “Now,” she sighed, “I think you ought to come back.” And she raised her other hand up in a balled fist. She struck Catarina between the breasts, a hollow thump reverberating as the blow landed, and Catarina arched with a massive inhalation. Her heart burst back into a racing rhythm and she came as it returned, groaning from the pit of her lungs and squirming beneath her fallen angel as she relentlessly toyed with her. She orgasmed twice, both times crying out and clutching for her strong thighs as Angelique rode astride her.

need my useless weakened thump pumped back to life as you abuse my body. The feeling of my cold, limp shaft under you as you grind with each compression into my thin frame. My chest would bow with each methodical deep compression, ribs flaring as air huffs uselessly out of my lungs. Stale air traveling out, hoff! hoff! hoff!

I’m not a very large man at all, so this adds to the difficulty of resuscitation. I am a thin rock guitarist, whose heart is used to high adrenaline and an array of things that can keep a heart racing for hours at a time. My fingertips calloused as you snake a hand down to my wrist, digging deeply for some stray of life that you can’t find.

My heart needs more.

Your slick, wet pussy trails up and down my shaft with slow motions as your palms dig back in.

There’s no time to waste.

My shoulders roll in as the deep compressions start once more, demanding my heart to beat. My stomach shifts with each thrust, arms shaking to either side of me. My lips are blue tinged under my thick beard, and in that moment, you forget- I need air!

Compressions are stopped as your body falls over mine, now chest to chest as you plug my nose to deliver your air to me. My cheeks slowly inflate as air travels down my throat, expanding it slowly before it reaches my lungs, forcing my chest up against yours. Your body grinds against mine as it does so, your ample chest forcing the air out of my body as your slick entrance grinds further against my shaft. You’re wet, and you know that your urge is controlling you as you moan out with pleasure. My body is nothing more to you now then something to play with, as you deliver another breath, hands moving to get my dark blonde hair out of my face.

You begin to set the pace that I come back to as you raise up, taking my shaft into you slowly before your hands find their place once more. Air escapes my lungs in a big hOFF! as my heart is plummeted under the piston of your compressions. You’re not even counting at this point, and as you circulate my blood, the flow going to my cock begins to stiffen it.

Your chest bounces between your straightened elbows as you preform deep compressions to my stalled, useless pump. My shaft throbs into you as you use my body, your hips slamming into mine as you fuck my frame. My head has lolled uselessly to the side now as my chest is caved.

And as you go, your moans get louder. The closer you get to your orgasm, the harder and faster your compressions get against my weak thump. Not wanting to waste even a minute of time with rescue breaths, you slam your hips into me as your small hands drive in, sloshing my blood through my thin frame. And as you do so, my heart begins to pick up a pathetic pace that starts to allow me to experience CPR induced consciousness. Your eyes dart to mine as they began to flutter open, having no air at all as my heart is commanded and shaft is pounded is quite the sensory experience. The entire bed is shaking with the efforts, and as you see my awareness, you double down your efforts. There’s no telling what kind of depth is being missed due to the cushion. But this means my troubled organ is getting beaten even harsher.

I begin to let out airless gasps and moans as I beg for air, and realize that you’re not going to oblige. My mouth is dry, and tongue feeling numb as you pound into me. My shaft is rock hard in you as you pleasure yourself with me. I want to beg for air, scream, but this is the most pleasure I’ve ever felt. Though I can’t find the energy to move.

The gasping seems to turn you on more, one hand staying, compressing my heart directly over- now your palm on the left side of my sternum, crushing down, as your other hand opens my mouth and presses down my dry tongue. I want air so badly, my vision swims in tunnels, knowing that if you stops your pace… I’m done.

But I need air.

You continue to thump into my heart as your fingers explore my mouth, compressions stopping as your hot lips slam into me, delivering what I needed. But as you do, I begin to fade instantly, your thrusts and desperate humps slowing since my cock is loosing stiffness. My chest rises several times, your fingers pinching my nose before hands are back on my chest, rubbing it harshly, enough to make my head fall over again. Your hands come back against me, and start slamming again.

And once again… I am awake.

The crushing pain knocks the wind out of me, if only I could replace it. And as you continue to pump for me, your climax begins to near. The thrusts on my chest become deeper, the whole bed bouncing- and your slick pussy slams into my hips desperately until you begin to grind, nails gripping into my chest as compressions become sloppy.

My mouth is open, gasping for air that will not come as you begin to roll your hips and moan, my cock being used for your desperate pleasure as you slam down deeply and slow into my exhausted pump, forcing blood to slam through my body. Your hips bottom me out as you begin to orgasm, your hands crushing my chest- but not letting up as you ripple through, the orgasm shredding through your body in waves.

Though I do not reach mine, as my cock begins to soften, you come back down, kissing my cold lips as consciousness entirely fades. You blow a few breaths of air, a pity even, as you hate to see such a strong fighter die that brought you so much pleasure.

——-