Jessica twirled to the music playing through the kitchen speakers as she moved towards the keypad. She loved the smart-house accessory, a keypad in each room to control, well, everything.  She raised the volume just a bit too loud, just the way she liked it. She spun again and her new sundress billowed and flowed around her.  She found it too cute and just had to have it even though summer was entering its twilight, which no one could believe considering the gorgeous weather lately. Sunshine and warmth, plenty to keep the windows and sliding doors open for fresh air.  

She bounced and skipped around the kitchen as she prepared a noon snack.  Grapes and berries, cheese and crackers, accompanied by a devilishly sweet red wine.  She poured herself a glass and indulged in a few sips as she munched.  Music and treats were a great way to pass the time waiting for her guest.  Gabby had sent a text not long ago saying she was en route, excited for their day by the pool.  She tossed a grape up and caught it in her mouth as a new song began, one of her favorites.  Her body could not resist and she had to dance.  

She pranced and played about the kitchen like a wood nymph, catching and chewing bits of fruit.  She even looked like a sprite, with her pixie hair and short, petite figure.  She tossed another grape, and just as she was about to catch it, a wicked smack broke through the booming music and startled her.  She would have gasped or screamed in fright had the grape not lodged in her throat.  

***

The door was unlocked and Gabby let herself in, carrying a day-bag with clothes and towels, and of course, a few bottles of wine.  Her bikini was already on, under her t-shirt and shorts, she would waste no time in diving in the warm pool water.  She had not had a day off in almost a year and nearly broke out in tears when she and Jess had found a day that worked for both of them.  

The music was disturbingly loud as she entered the front door of the house and caught a glimpse of Jess prancing about the kitchen sipping wine.  She grinned to herself and simply had to indulge in a little mischief. She placed her bag down as quietly as she could, not that anyone could hear anything over the riotous music, and crept down the hall to the kitchen.  She stopped and waited, and as Jess turned her back, Gabby jumped out and slammed both palms against the metal fridge door as hard as she could.  The sound was so forceful it even scared her and she burst out into laughter.  

“Surprise!” She said through giggles, and went to the keypad to turn down the music.  Jess still had not replied. She turned to greet her friend.

Jess’s hands were at her throat and her face was a vicious maroon.

“Jess, what’s wrong?”

Jess grasped at her throat. She tried to call out but could make no sound.  She lunged at Gabby and grabbed her hands.  She turned around and wrapped Gabby’s arms around her, desperate for her friend’s help.

“Wait, are you choking? You’re choking!?  Oh god, ok, ok…”

Gabby held tight around Jess’s waist and balled her fist against the blue fabric of the sundress. She pulled, in and up, but was afraid to pull too hard, she did not want to hurt her friend.  Jess grabbed frantically at Gabby’s hands and pushed them into herself as hard as she could.  Gabby pulled again, but it was hard to get any leverage with Jess squirming against her.  

“You have to stop!  I can’t… I can’t do it if you keep moving! Just let me… let me do it!”

Gabby gripped tighter and pulled as hard as she could, in and up.  She waited a moment, expecting something, anything to happen, but nothing changed.  Jess was still silent and gripped her arms, her nails digging into flesh.  It hurt, but as long as she was squeezing Gabby knew she was still alright.  

She pulled again, as hard as she could, she leaned her body back for as much leverage as possible. Jess rocked backward and off the ground. Gabby dropped her forward again and waited.  Still nothing.  Jess’s head had lolled forward.  Her grip had loosened.  Her hands fell to her sides.  

“No, no!  Come on!  Jess, come on!”  

Gabby pulled as hard as she could again, but this time as she came forward all of Jess’s dead weight carried them both and they fell.  Gabby slammed a knee hard against the kitchen floor sending a searing pain up her body.  She clenched her eyes and gritted her teeth in an attempt to find a place beyond the pain, a place to keep her mind focused on her friend.  

Her arms were still around Jess as she maneuvered into a squatting position, and tried to pull again as Jess slumped further.  She desperately tried shifting and moving and pulling in different ways, but nothing felt like it worked.  She began to cry, fear and frustration streamed from her face and she had to let go of her friend.  

As gently as she could, she lowered Jess down to the floor.  She cradled her head, and brushed the hair from her face.  Jess’s eyes were frozen open in fear, and drool had leaked from her lips down her chin.  Gabby could no longer see through the tears.  

She pulled out her phone from her pocket and dialed 9-1-1.  

***

Chris and Brian found the front door still open.  They entered, dressed in blue utilities with EMT patches, carrying equipment bags.  

When they entered the kitchen, Gabby was vigorously pumping Jess’s chest as instructed by the operator. They could see Jess’s head bobbing to the side, her eyes gazing into nothingness, her lips an unnatural, sick blue.

“Please, breathe! Please, Jess!  Take a breath, just one, please!”

They placed their bags down, and got to work.  

Chris held Gabby’s shoulders and gently pulled her back from her friend.  

“We’ll take it from here, you did a great job.”  He sat her back against the wall.  She held herself and sobbed as she watched them, praying.  

Brian had knelt behind Jess’s head and had already attempted bagging, but no air was getting past the obstruction.  He scooped his arms underneath Jess’s shoulders and lifted her up, and her head dangled forward.  He wrapped his arms around her and balled a fist.  He was bigger and stronger than Gabby, and was able to get a better hold.

He pulled hard three times, and made sure her head leaned forward.  Chris kept a close eye on her mouth as more saliva dripped out.  He shook his head, and Brian pulled again. This time a grape fell down into her lap.  Chris chucked it aside.  

“Obstruction out, check the airway.”  

Brian lowered her back onto the ground and grabbed an ambu bag.  He placed it over her mouth and squeezed.  Her chest rose.  Gabby screamed out through sobs, overwhelmed with relief, despite the battle still ahead.

“No pulse, get her on the monitor.”  

Brian continued to bag her, filling her lungs with fresh air, expanding her chest beneath the sundress. Chris pulled the Lifepak closer and unzipped a compartment.  He pulled out EKG leads and wires and set them aside.  He grabbed the front of Jess’s dress with both hands and tore the fabric down to her groin, exposing her petite breasts and small nipples.  He placed leads on her chest and side, and snapped the wires into place.  He flicked the monitor on.  A flat green line began tracing across the screen.  

“She’s flat.  Start compressions.”  

Brian dropped the ambu bag and knelt across from Chris on the other side of Jess’s chest.  He placed both gloved hands between her nipples and began pressing hard and fast.  The monitor sprang to life.

Chris retrieved a hypo and flicked off the cap.  He found a vein in her arm, slid the needle in and slammed the plunger.  He tossed the syringe aside and grabbed the ambu bag. He squeezed while Brian finished the cycle of CPR.  

Jess’s small chest caved in under the compressions as Brian pumped her motionless heart.  When he finished the cycle, he pulled his hands away, and Chris removed the bag from her mouth so they could check for a rhythm.

“Nothing.  Continue compressions.”  

Brian continued CPR, his latex hands back on her tiny chest.  Chris turned and looked at Gabby.  She searched his face for some sign of hope but saw none.  

“How long was she down?”

She sniffled, “I… I don’t know… maybe 10 minutes?  Not that long, it wasn’t too long, she’ll be ok, right?”

“We’re doing everything we can.”  He turned back to the patient.  

“Hold compressions.”  

They waited and watched the monitor.  Still flat. Jess’s eyes stared up at them. Her skin was as gray and pale as marble.

“Alright, let’s shock a flat and then call it.”  

Chris pulled the defibrillator paddles from their holsters and held them in one hand.  With the other hand he retrieved a bottle of electrolytic gel.  He flicked the cap and squeezed a few spurts onto each metal contact.  He tossed the bottle aside and rubbed the paddles together, coating each with the gel.  Brian tore Jess’s sundress all the way down the middle, revealing a thin strip of pubic hair, and moved the fabric away from her body as much as he could.  

Chris pressed the paddles to her naked chest and rubbed the gel down.  With his thumb he charged to 300J.  

“Charging.”

The charge screamed as it built.  

“Clear.”

Thunk!

Gabby screamed as Jess’s tiny body jerked, and her limbs flopped.  Her head lolled lifelessly.  The line on the monitor launched off the screen and fell back into a flat line.  They waited.

“She’s still flat. Call it?”  

“NO!” Gabby screamed and lunged at them.  “Please, no! Please!”  

Chris dropped the paddles and grabbed her.  

“She’s young and healthy, man, she still has a chance…” Brian offered.  

Chris exhaled, “Alright, another round, but that’s it.”  

Brian continued compressions as Chris moved Gabby to the side.

“Stay there, let us work, alright?”

She nodded anxiously, and knelt beside Jess’s legs as they worked.  She rubbed her friend’s feet, thinking she could help, somehow, that Jess would know she was still there, she was not alone.  

Chris injected another syringe into his patient’s arm and went back to bagging as Brian pumped her chest. His forehead was beading with sweat from the effort and he started to breath a little heavier.  

“Hold compressions.”  

All eyes were on the monitor.

“Holy fuck.”

“Told you.”

Tiny squiggles filled the screen as Jess’s heart began fibrillating.  

“Yes, you did. Alright, let’s hit her again. 400J.”

Chris grabbed the paddles and charged to shock.  The charge built as Gabby held tight to Jess’s legs and prayed.  All three of them still watched the monitor as Chris replaced the paddles on Jess’s bare chest.  

“Clear.”  No one looked away from the monitor.

Chris fired the shock.

Thunk!

The electricity surged through Jess’s body, contracting every muscle, jolting her small figure again, traveling all the way down her legs and into Gabby.  Her heart stopped instantly.  

She collapsed to the kitchen floor with a little thud.  Chris and Brian looked back.

“Did you check if she was clear?!” Brian yelled at Chris.  

“No, I was busy shocking this one, did you check if she was clear?!”

“No… Fuck!”  

Chris dropped the paddles and hurried to Gabby’s body.  He rolled her over and checked her vitals.  She was not breathing, and he felt no pulse.  

“Nothing.”

Brian checked the monitor, Jess was still in v-fib.  He started compressions again.  

“You work on her, I’ll keep going on this one.”  

Chris scooped under Gabby’s arms and pulled her closer to the Lifepak.  He pulled the EKG cable out and the monitor went flat again.  He grabbed the paddles to check his new patient for a rhythm.

“Shit.”

He dropped the paddles, realizing she was still clothed.  He grabbed a pair of sheers from the equipment bag and cut a straight line down the front of Gabby’s t-shirt, and tossed the fabric aside.  He yanked the knots at the top and center of her bikini top and pulled the little swimsuit off her body, leaving her plump figure bare.  He grabbed the paddles again and rubbed them onto her chest.  The monitor showed a course v-fib.  

“Alright, first time, come on, make it easy for me.”

He flicked the wheel and charged the paddles to 200J.  

Thunk!

Brian watched her curvy body seize from the shock as he continued pumping Jess’s chest.  

“Anything?”  

“No.  Come on, kiddo, come back to us.”

Chris charged the paddles again and fired.

Thunk!

The line flew off the screen and traced back into a flatline before squiggling again.  

“Give her some drugs and let me check this one,” Brian said.  

Chris dropped the paddles and pulled out another syringe.  As he injected Gabby, Brian yanked the EKG pads off Jess’s chest and applied the defib paddles.  The monitor showed she was still in v-fib.  

He reached over her for the bottle of gel and squirted a few more drops.  He rubbed the metal contacts onto her skin and charged.  

“Come on, sweetheart, you can do it.”  

Thunk!

The monitor jumped and began spiking, nice even spikes and Brian nearly pumped a fist into the air after he tossed the paddles aside.  

“Sinus rhythm, holy shit. Checking for a pulse.”  He pressed two fingers into her groin.  “Nice strong pulse, alright, this one is back.”  Brian grabbed the ambu bag and squeezed big breaths into Jess’s lungs.  He pressed his fingers on her neck to monitor her pulse.  

Chris reached for the paddles and applied them to Gabby’s chest.  The monitor showed v-fib.

“Alright, your friend is back, she’s going to be pissed if you leave her like this, one more time…”

He charged the paddles and fired.

Gabby jolted and immediately sprang back to life clutching her chest and coughing.  

“Thank fucking christ…” Chris sighed in relief.  

“Relax, you’re ok, look at me.”

Chris gave her a good once-over exam to make sure she was ok, and gestured for Gabby to turn around. She could see Jess waking up as Brian rubbed a fist against her chest, rousing her from unconsciousness.  

“You’re both going to be just fine.”

Gabby threw her arms around Chris, and kissed his cheek.

***

“And, cut!”  Brian called out as he tossed the ambu bag aside. “Not bad for your first time.  So, what did you think?”  He asked the girls.

Gabby and Jess both got up and pulled a few baby-wipes out of one of the equipment bags.   They began rubbing off the gel from their chests. Jess dropped the ragged sundress from her shoulders, and Gabby did the same with her ruined t-shirt.  

“That was fun!  But, if we’re all acting, who was filming?”  

Brian pointed to various spots around the kitchen.  “I had cameras installed, that way we don’t have to worry about filming or having crews. We can just have fun, and edit the footage later.”

“And you guys make a lot of money doing this?”

Chris and Brian shared a grinned.  

“We do alright, there’s a growing audience for the material.  If you want, we can do another one after we take a break.”  

The girls exchanged a look, and nodded.  Not a bad gig.  The guys were fun to work with, and seemed like they would be fun to hang out with as well.  

“Great, let’s grab a snack and maybe take a dip in the pool, and we can come up with another scene.”

ustin pulled the trauma shears from the bag and clipped both of the shoulder straps to the top Shannon wore before reaching down to her navel and cutting up from the waste.  “Stop for a second. I need this off her chest now. As they pull the cloth open, the setting sun bleaches Shannon’s skin white.

Jamie’s hands dart back to “Come on baby.. fight! still, pale chest and begin once more to try reviving her.  Austin hands work quickly to assemble the clear, blue ambubag and press it firmly down over her mouth, holding the mask firmly with one hand and pumping the bulb vigorously 5 times trying to hyperventilate her lungs as Jamie pauses and then continues compressions as Austin uses the bloody towel to dry her chest well enough to get the electrodes to stick to her skin.  

He looks down at her still, bare chest, nipples erect from the friction of the towels Austin dried her skin with and begins again as Austin begins to lay a 5 lead ECG pattern across her chest.  As she began to snap the wires to the 3M sensors, he paused, his hand resting mindlessly against the swell of her breast as he brushed her hair back silently and leaned over to breathe Into her lungs.  

“Oh fuck, Shannon,” she said deeply troubled by the flat line on the screen.  “I can’t shock her. She is in asystole.”

“I don’t even know what that means!” he shouts at her.  

“It means you keep doing compressions until I get something I can work with or the ambulance gets here.  I don’t have access to ACLS drugs in my personal gear and she has no rhythm.” She quickly presses the ambubag down between compressions and forces air into her friend body refusing to admit to herself that they may already be too late.

“Come on baby girl, fight!” Jaime screams at his wife.  His voice alone gives away his agony as he does exactly what Austin had told him to do….  Compressions hard enough that they crush her chest. He presses harder and harder, snapping a rib as he tried to force oxygen throughout her body. Her breasts bounced jerkingly with each compression he pressed down into her.  Halfway through a set Austin shouts stop and tosses him the ambubag as she she begins charging the defibrillator attached to the heart monitor.

“Come on Shannon, please let us have gotten to you in time,” Austin says so she pulls out thin orange 3M conductive pads and presses them down on her chest just above ge right breast and to her side below the left.  

“Don’t touch her Jamie,” she warns and he pulls his hands back and kneels beside her.  “Come on Shannon. 28 is way to young to die on us.” She presses the shock button, sending the charge into the curves of her youthful chest.  Together they wait anxiously as her chest jumped slightly from the pool deck, her large, soft breasts bouncing as her her back arched and she landed on the deck.

There is no response as her head turns limply to her side, her lips bluer than ever as she goes without oxygen and Austin reaches for the button to charge the paddles again.  Jaime picked up the clear, blue mask as he waited and pressed it firmly over her mouth and nose as she squeezed and inflated her lungs, once, then twice as Austin put the paddles back on her pale chest.  

“Let’s try again,” she says quickly as the machine to her side chirps and beeps wildly and it charges.  Jaime gets one last breath in with the ambubag before she calls “off!” and presses the button on the paddles.  Her body flails lightly on the concrete as her pink, coated toes pull in together and her arm jerks with the arch of her back.  Her body lands and he watches as Austin interlocks her hands between Shannon’s breasts and begins another round of almost inhumanely forceful compressions.  Her slightly longer nails leave red marks in the side if her softly, swollen breast as she pistons down into her chest.

“Give her 5 more rescue breaths,” she huffs out on the last one.  “She needs the oxygen badly. I will do 2 more rounds of CPR and then we can try shocking her again.” He did as he was told, filling his wife’s lungs five times before Austin’s interlocked fingers pounded it back out.  Steam collected on the mask with each whiff of air she forced out. He repeated the steps again and watched as she dug the paddles into her chest as he pushed one last wave of oxygen.

One final massive push of air slides down her throat as Austin orders him off so she looks at her watch. It has been at least 8 minutes…. Maybe even longer.  

The last few chirps and beeps echo through the air as Austin lets the current loose into her chest, now bright red from the relentless cardiac massage.  Shannon’s body rose, breasts popping up from the shock and the arch of her back. Her entire body seems to slam into the ground so they hear her gasp for air as her breasts undulate with each gasp for air.  She began to cough violently, water spewing out of her mouth.

Collectively they turn Shannon onto her side, salt laced pool water flowing out ss she coughs and gasps. “That’s it sugar, breathe for us. Cough the water out” he says as his hands rest on stomach to support her.

She breathed in and out quickly,  her bare breasts heaving and shaking as Austin began to worry that she might hyperventilate.

“Easy Shannon, Easy… slow breaths,” she begs.  “Calm her down Jamie! Don’t let her panic.”

He touches her gently, both hands on her shoulders as her body shook.  “You’re alright now baby. Just breathe, nice and slow,” he said holding tightly and looking into her scared, half lidded brown eyes.

Tears streak down her face as her fingers dug into his wet shirt.  Unable to stand the tears, he leaned over her, kissing her forehead gently as Austin assessed the head wound and immediately reached into the gear for a c-spine stabilizer. Shannon whimpered sharply when it was locked around her neck.

“Head,” she cries.  “Hurts.”

Austin tried gently to press the towel into the wound to look at the bump and the cut.  If her head had already hurt, it had to be splitting now from the color of the bruise and the swelling already taking place.  

Jamie held her hand tightly while Austin worked. "Shannon, do you remember what happened?”

“Dizzy,” she says weakly as she began to lose the battle for consciousness.   “Everything moving.” Her brown eyes fluttered closed as her posture went lax.

“Shannon!” Austin yelled as her eyes closed.  “SHANNON! I need you to stay awake. Jamie, we need ice. Can you fill several bags with it,” she said pressing rolled gauze I to th cut before carefully wrapping compression bandage over it and around her head as Jaime sprinted to the kitchen.

When he come back out carrying the bags of ice, Austin had rolled her to her side and held her still as she threw up whatever was in her stomach.  On her side, she was barely able to keep her eyes open as he falls to his knees beside her stroking her arm gently as he gathered her hair that had fallen out of the bun away from her face.

Everything in him wanted to scope her up and hold her in arms as he sat beside her watching her struggle.  "Come on Shannon, baby, you can’t go to sleep. I need you to stay awake.“ He rubs her arm more as Austin packs the ice around her skull and secures it with ace bandages.

Austin watches carefully as she waits for help to come.  She puts a few fingers in Shannon’s hand. “Keep your eyes open and squeeze my fingers as hard as you can,” she orders.  She sighs when she realizes that she has no strength at all. She shakes her head in a sign that this is not a good as she pulls out a light, flashes it into her eyes…

Her pupils are sluggish and the right might not be blown and may still react,  but it is definitely dilated. Austin knows she needs to get to the ER and cusses the ambulance for being so slow as Shannon’s eyes close again.

He felt her body get weaker as his hand gently supported her head.   Austin is reaching for her phone, about to call 911 again to find out their status when she sees her sinking out of consciousness.  Suddenly her body tenses as nausea washes over her again, causing her to whimper as water and bile spill out onto the concrete.

The noon sun shone bright over Brian’s backyard.  The jacuzzi jets roared and frothed the water of his in-ground hot tub.  Bubbles plopped and splashed on the stones around the edges.  The water raged pure white except for a blur of purple beneath the surface.  The purple of Kim’s bathing suit. 

Lifeguards Chris and Brian rushed onto the scene with gear bags in hand, wearing only their bright red speedos.  Chris dropped his bag at the side of the hot tub and jumped in the water.  Brian knelt on the adjacent cement and began unpacking the gear – defibrillator, electrodes, gel, box of syringes, and trauma shears.  

Chris lifted Kim’s head from the gurgling water and brushed strands of dark wet hair from her face. Her eyes were open, vacant and haunting. Her mouth was ajar and filled with water.  He rolled her head to the side to clear her mouth, then sealed his lips around hers. He blew hard and smooth, and forced her chest to expand.  He broke the seal of their lips and the air escaped with a rattle, but with no bubbles. There was no water in her lungs.  Chris gave her another breath, her cheeks puffed and her chest rose in the sloshing jacuzzi water.  

“Let’s get her out,” Brian extended a hand to help pull her from the water.  

She was heavier than she looked, as were all lifeless bodies.  Brian scooped his hands under her arms and Chris held her legs.  Her right breast spilled from her purple one-piece as they jostled her onto the cement, and both men’s eyes locked onto the crescent of her pink nipple.  The rest of the suit clung wet and tight against her figure which had become see-through in the bright noon sunlight.  The same was true of Chris’s wet speedo, and Brian took a moment to admire the outline of Chris’s cock as he knelt beside of Kim’s chest.  

“No breathing, no pulse. Starting compressions.”

Chris placed both hands on Kim’s wet chest and pressed down hard.  Her body jiggled from the force of the CPR.  Her limp head rocked side to side and her still-open eyes stared off into nothing.  Her breast spilled out further, exposing the full-mooned nipple.  

“Fourteen… fifteen… breathe.”

Brian bent down and gave Kim two powerful puffs of air watching her ample chest rise and fall, and catching another glimpse of that breast.  It was hard not to look.  Chris continued compressions, and Brian indulged the sight of her perky nipple prancing around from the violent CPR.  He felt himself swell inside his speedo.  The muscles on Chris’s arm and torso flexed as he worked on Kim, and Brian felt his cock swell more.  

Fifteen compressions, and Brian filled her lungs with another two breaths.  THe air rattled out.  She showed no response.  

“Let’s get her on the monitor.”

Chris continued rigorous compressions, and Brian pulled the LifePak closer.  He grabbed the trauma shears and began cutting around Chris’s hands to not interrupt the life-saving measures.  He snipped the straps at the top of Kim’s bathing suit and down the full length of her left side.  He scooped his finger and cut the suit between her legs exposing her shaved vaginal lips.  In between compressions Chris yanked the material from Kim’s chest then immediately continued CPR on her naked body sending waves through her full figure.

Brian spotted a towel on a chair a few feet from where they worked.  He rushed over and grabbed it.  Chris held compressions for a moment to let Brian dry off Kim’s chest.  

Brian peeled foam electrode pads from a white plastic strip and hooked Kim to the LifePak monitor.  The green line squiggled across the screen.  She was in v-fib.

“Alright, let’s shock her.”

Chris continued compressions as Brian removed the paddles and spattered green gel onto the metal plates.  He rubbed them together, smoothing the gel over the contacts.  He applied them to Kim’s unusually pale chest.  He rubbed one just above her right breast and the other under her left.  

“Charging 200J.”  

The paddles squealed. 

“Clear.”

Thunk!

Brian fired the paddles. Her body caved in from the shock, her limbs flopped and her breasts bounced.  

They checked the monitor. Still in v-fib.

“Charging 300J. Clear.”

Thunk!

Kim’s body seized again then fell still.  

“Nothing.  Continue compressions.”  Brian tossed the paddles to the side and retook his place by Kim’s head. Her eyes were still empty and staring, he could not look at them.  Instead his focus went to Chris.  Brian watched his boyfriend’s torso rise and fall, his muscles flexed as he pumped Kim’s chest.  He was beginning to sweat from the effort under the noon sun, and Brian watched a bead fall and trace his rib.  He could see the bulge of Chris’s erection struggling against the fabric of the speedo, pushing it out, teasing a view of his pretty cock and balls.  Brian’s own hard-on began to hurt in the confines of the tight bathing suit.

Chris held compressions, and Brian forced two strong puffs of air into Kim’s lungs.

“Want to switch?”

“Yeah.”  Chris wiped his sweaty face and stood.  They stepped over the body and traded positions. Before Brian knelt, he removed his speedo and give his hard cock a reprieve.

Chris leaned down and blew into Kim’s agape mouth.  He let the air out and tilted his head to watch her chest rise and fall, but instead caught a glimpse Brian’s unsheathed cock standing out from between his knelt thighs.  He looked up at Brian’s face and was greeted with that familiar, devilish grin.

Brian placed the heel of his right hand in the center of Kim’s sternum along the nipple-line. He covered it with his left and gripped his fingers.  

“One, two, three…”

Brian started CPR.  This provided Chris a chance to stand and remove his speedo, a chance which he took advantage.  His cock bounced free as he pulled down the speedo, and he tossed the fabric aside.  He knelt again by Kim’s head, and they continued their work on her, all three bodies fully exposed.

“Hold compressions,” Chris said this time.

The line went flat.

“Asystole.  Continue compressions.”

Brian pumped hard and fast. His cock bounced between his legs with the occasional flop against Kim’s arm that left a string of precum.  

Chris opened the box of drugs and pulled out a hypo.  He flicked off the cap and slipped the needle in an thick blue vein.  He emptied the contents into Kim’s system and stored the empty syringe in the box.

They cycled breaths and compressions watching each other as well as Kim’s body bounce and move as they fought to bring her back, consumed with ravenous desire.  They wanted to dive for each other, claw and bite flesh, suck and nibble, lick and kiss all the pieces of flesh.  Chris wanted to penetrate Kim, fuck her until he came.  Brian wanted to penetrate Chris, fill him with hot and sticky semen.  Not yet, though, for either, they still had work to do.  

“Let’s check the monitor.” 

Brian held compressions.  

“V-fib.  Charging paddles.”

Chris grabbed the discarded paddles and reapplied the gel.  He rubbed them down on Kim’s chest, smearing more green goo.  

“Charging 360J.” He flicked the yellow button on the side of the paddle.  “Clear.”

Thunk!

Kim’s body seized hard. Still nothing.

“Charging again, clear.”  Chris rubbed the paddles against her skin and fired.

Thunk!

Her limbs flopped again.  Still nothing.

“Ok, let’s go again at 400J. Charging.”

The machine screamed again, building the charge.

“Clear.”

Thunk!

Her body jolted once more. The monitor went flat.  They held their breaths.  

The line spiked and went flat again.  They watched in silence, not a movement or breath in desperate anticipation.  

The line spiked again, and again, and again.  They had a rhythm.

“Check for a pulse.”

Brian pressed his fingers hard in Kim’s groin.  

“Pulse is strong.”  He watched Kim’s chest rise and fall, naked except for wires and globs of sticky gel where the paddles had been.  Her dead eyes blinked and life filled them again. She began to squirm.  

Chris rubbed his knuckles into her chest to coax her awake.

“That’s it, come back to us, Kim.”  

She took big gasps, grateful to have air in her lungs again.

Confident she was no longer in danger, Chris tried to remove the foam pads from her chest.  Kim stopped his hand.

“No… leave them…”  She unsnapped the wires, leaving the white foam disks attached.

“So, what did you guys think?”  She asked between heavy breaths.

Their cocks throbbed.  Both heads were smeared with precum.  That was all the answer she needed.  

My god, she was beautiful. The way her form laid sprawled across the black satin sheets of the king sized bed, with just the sheet half covering her body, up to the peaks of her breasts. She watched me with those keen green eyes, her face framed by soft chocolate brown curls.

She had consented to this, much to my surprise, many months before, and it was to this moment we had been building. I had meticulously studied her every move. The way she breathed. The sound of her heart. I could look at her and know if her pulse were elevated, or if her panties were wet with excitement. She had invited me to get to know her, and I had done so. Intimately.

As a doctor, the first rule of medicine was always to do no harm. Thus far, I had done nothing but bring her pleasure. Extreme amounts of pleasure. Wave after wave of orgasmic thrills provided every way I was able. Some were more successful than others, but each event was an opportunity to gather data.

I knew that she enjoyed it too. It wasn’t about the sex, entirely. She was completely enthralled with the whirring and beeping machines that recorded her bodily functions. Many times, she would stare absently at the EKG and listen to her heart beating while I prepared other gear. She was more than willing to let me ventilate her and had been a good sport when I offered to intubate. She enjoyed the new sensations and was willing to let me experiment as far as I dared.

She trusted me. Implicitly.

That was not a trust I took lightly, but my experimentation with my beautiful and willing subject was far, far from over. Id been gathering data these last many months over her orgasms, and now knew how to perfectly time them…

In a perfect world, I’d have had a full lab set up, but to keep her comfortable I simply set my gear on the bedside table. She was naked under the sheet, watching me calmly. We’d been through this at least a dozen times before. The only obvious difference was that we were going to record this on video this time. I wanted her to be able to watch later, and see the magic unfolding.

I gave her one last, “are you -sure-?” look. She nodded and settled back against the pillow. I was struck again by how beautiful, how perfectly angelic she was. Then I pressed record.

Not a word was spoken between us. I came over to the side of the bed and begin attaching ekg electrodes to her bare skin, my fingers brushing her breasts softly, only pulling the sheet back as far as was necessary, for now. Switching on the ekg, a small beeping emanated from the machine. I secured a blood pressure cuff around her bicep and let it inflate, noting that her ranges were normal. For her sake, I listened to her heart and lungs with my stethoscope. She always enjoyed that. Though I hadnt been particuarly listening for it, I could hear a little wheezing in her chest, a symptom of her seasonal asthma attacks.

With delicate precision, I started an IV in her hand and hung a bag of saline from the bed post on a very slow drip. At this, she closed her eyes, either relaxing or daydreaming, perhaps both. I had decided that I would intubate her, but that I would wait a while before doing so. Instead, I took the ambubag from the med kit on the floor, sealed the mask over her face and gave it several deep, rhythmic squeezes. At this, she instantly relaxed. She was consenting, giving herself over to me.

While I continued to squeeze the bag with one hand, I moved the sheet the rest of the way off her, bringing her full nakedness into view. She had waxed all the hair from between her legs, leaving the area soft and smooth. Inviting. As I continued to ventilate her, I slipped two fingers between her legs, massaging gently inside. Instantly, her heart skipped a beat, perhaps out of surprise, but then her pulse started to climb in excitement.

I didnt want to take her too far too fast, so I paused my massage in order to feel her pulse with my fingers, still breathing for her with the ambu bag. She tried her best not to but moaned softly anyway. A small smile crept upon my lips as I felt the warmth of her blood throbbing through the artery at her neck, rhythmic and steady.

I was starting to let my own excitement get to me, feeling the bulge in my pants growing uncomfortable in its confined space. But, there would be time enough for that later. I let my fingers trail down her neck, sensually across her collar bone before cupping her small, pert breast in my hand. I leaned down and sucked the nipple between my teeth, tongue flicking across thesmall, hard bud. As quickly as I had began, I brought my lips away, blowing gently across her wet nipple, sending shivers down her spine. Again, I smiled.

I set the ambu bag aside, and my subject began to breathe normally on her own. I affixed an adhesive pad to her index finger, measuring the oxygen saturation levels in her blood. As expected, they were within normal parameters, but I still took extra precautions. A nasal cannula was attached to a small oxygen canister at the side of the bed. With deft hands, I insertedthe cannula into her nostrils and started the flow of oxygen. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but for what I had in mind, a little added insurance didn’t hurt.

I took three pre-filled syringes out of my bag and set them on the table. The first was simply an agent to help her relax, and its one we had used before. The other two…were for later.

I didn’t waste much time. She had a mechanical toy that was her favorite. Vibrators weren’t my favorite, but since she was such a willing participant to all of my other experimentations, I let her have this one concession. I switch it on and start massaging her with it.

Instantly, her heart rate jumps. Yes, this is her favorite toy, and she is enjoying herself.

The blood pressure cuff is set to inflate automatically at five minute intervals, and does so now. Her blood pressure is only slightly higher than it was before, a fact I note and file away inthe back of my head. Though I can hear the steady and increasing beeping of the EKG, I place the ear buds of the stethoscope back in my ears and move the head across her chest, listening to her heart beating, her breathing. I work the mechanical toy in and out of her, it glistening with her wetness. I know she is close to climaxing, and I set the stethoscope aside, picking up the first of three syringes. Deftly, without her even noticing what I am doing, I increase the rate of the IV flow. Her pulse is nearing 125, and her breathing is short and shallow. After so many observations, I know that she is very close to her edge.

I take the first syringe and slowly push the drug. Her hips rise up to meet me, beckoning me to work the toy deeper into her. As I plunge it further in, I massage her clit with my thumb. After three heartbeats, orgasm takes hold. She lets out a screaming moan of pleasure as she bucks wildly on the bed, EKG going wild…

…and then the drug takes hold. Coupled with the endorphins, the drug instantly relaxes her muscles and her heart rate drops from 142 to 77. She opens her eyes to look at me as her body grows still, a little confused. Her pulse slows further, 63, 55, and finally the alarm goes off at 47. I know she isn’t breathing. I lean down and kiss her lips, slowly, tenderly, before sealing my mouth over hers. I hold her nose and give her a long, slow deep breath. Pausing only to let her exhale, I give her another.

I know she is unable to breathe at all, but relaxed as she is, I know the next procedure should be simple. With a laryngoscope in hand, I tilt her head back further. Guided by the scope, I slide the tube down her airway and inflate the catheter, securing the tube in place. I attach the ambu bag to the end protruding from her mouth and give it a few squeezes, listening for breath sounds through my stethoscope. Pleased with the placement of the tube, I secure it to her face with two strips of surgical tape, then attach the end to tubing from a portable ventilator. Switched on, the ventilator makes a soft hissing noise as it breathes for my patient. I remove the cannula from her nose and redirect the flow of oxygen to the ventilator.

My patient looks relieved at being able to breathe again, at least nominally. But, I wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.

At last, I loosened my belt and let my trousers and underclothes fall to the floor. I stepped out of my socks and shoes as I unbuttoned my shirt. All of it fell in a heap on the floor. A cursory glance to the monitor showed sinus bradycardia. My patient’s face was pale and for a moment, I hesitated, getting lost in those deep green pools. She blinked up at me once, then twice. It was an unspoken signal that she expected me to continue. She wanted me to continue. She consented.

I nodded almost imperceptibly, and she closed her eyes again, content to let the ventilator take complete control. I reached out to the bedside table for a second syringe. I didn’t need it yet, but I wanted it nearby for when she did.

I gently parted her legs and crawled atop her, guiding myself inside. She was so warm and wet. Inviting. A few quick strokes and I glided into place easily, filling that tight warm space. My patient was beginning to regain motor control, and though she could not moan, she tilted her head back a little further.

I reached out, cupping her breasts as I thrust inside her, slowly, deliberately. I don’t want to peak too fast, and I still need for the initial drug to finish wearing off of her. Still, I want her to feel me as she is able to, and so I keep my movements slow, deep and rhythmic, matching the beating of her heart.

Her heart rate had slowed finally to a rate of 32, but was beginning to quickly pick back up again. Already she was in the high forties, and would soon be back into normal ranges. As I thrust inside her, I took her thin, delicate wrist and placed two fingers against it, feeling her pulse. It was still too weak to feel it well in her wrist, so I moved my fingers back to her neck, pausing again to tease her nipples a little. Her heart rate jumped a little. Good. She was getting her feeling back.

I quickened the pace of my thrusts to again match her heart rate. Moving in her was so easy, so warm and slick. I brought my hands to the center of her chest, one overlapping the other but hand splayed open. With my open palm, I simulated the chest compressions of CPR, more for her benefit than anything.

She was gaining more ability to breathe and move now, her hips rising up to meet mine. Her breaths were short and fast gasps through the ventilator circuit. After a few compressions, I grasped her breasts, working her nipples between my fingers. If she could moan, she would have.

Her pulse had reached the mid eighties and was still climbing. I risked a quick glance to the monitor and saw that her oxygen levels were 100%. As expected, for being on a ventilator. Now firmly convinced that she was safe again, I lifted her hips and pulled her up and tight against me, varying my thrust to push into her even deeper before. I could feel her muscles reaching and grabbing for me, even as I throbbed inside her. It wouldn’t be long now.

I uncapped the end of the syringe and screwed it into the IV port, not quite ready to push the drug. I hadn’t bothered to dilute this one with saline. This… this I needed to enter straight into her blood stream. I took a few moments to watch her. So beautiful, laying under me. Her breasts bounced as I thrust into her, wires jiggling against her bare skin. My own heart was hammering against my ribs in excitement. I knew it was time.

With my thumb, I pushed the contents of the syringe into the IV port, not hesitating my thrusting. A few more thrusts, hard and deep into her, and I felt myself explode in a hot rush. A moan of ecstasy erupted from me, animalistic. Primal. I had timed it perfectly, for as I felt my own orgasm, her own body shuddered violently. Her heart rate was rapid as she climaxed, but only for the briefest of instants.

As she reached her peak, the drug took its full effect. The drop in her heart rate from before was slow and controlled compared to this. She opened her eyes to look up at me, confused, and the ekg began to throw the first of many alarms. After a few brief seconds, those keen green eyes lost their focus.

My patient’s heart had stopped.

I relished my time there, still inside her, even as the EKG began its angry squeal. Unhurried, I climbed off of my beautiful patient and reached for a soft cotton towel. I wiped myself clean, and did the same for her, before repositioning her legs. I slid on my shorts and examined my unconscious patient.

The ventilator continued breathing for her, that much was already taken care of. The blood pressure cuff inflated again, and it didn’t take long for me to see that her pressure was falling. Calmly, I pulled the rest of my gear out from under the bed: a hard backboard and an AED, the likes of which are often seen in airports and shopping malls. Gently, I rolled my patient on her side and slid the backboard beneath her, then pulled her to the edge of the bed. It was true that the mattress would absorb some of the thrust of my compressions, but the backboard would negate some of that. And if not, I could always pull her to the floor. Of course, that would be a shame. She would be out of camera range then…

I traced the curve of her ribcage with my fingers, skipping over the ekg wires, and placed the heel of my hand on her breastbone. The movement was similar to what I had done before in simulation, but this time, I focused the pressure into the heel of my hand rather than disbursed over an open palm. In rapid succession, I squeezed her heart between her spine and sternum.

Her breasts bounced lightly against my hands. Indeed, her whole body moved under the force of my compressions. With her ventilated as such, I had no need to stop to give her breaths on my own. I counted in my head a rapid 100 compressions in a minute, each one registering as a small wave on the EKG. Then I paused, stethoscope pressed to her chest, listening for a heartbeat.

Nothing.

I continued another 100 compressions, my shoulders beginning to feel a tightness at the angle I was working, but I ignored the minor annoyance. Her face was turning grey, and despite the mechanical ventilation, her lips and nail beds were beginning to turn blue. I was unconcerned. This is what I had planned for, and if there were any hurriedness to my movements, it was only in the rhythm of my perfectly precise, forceful, almost violent compressions.

I paused for a moment to attach the AED pads to her bare skin and activated the unit. I didn’t need the audio prompting. It would be several seconds before the unit was active and assessing her rhythm. Instead, I took the time to find my hand placement again, and managed another forty three compressions before the unit was ready and instructed me not to touch the victim. I backed off slightly, letting it assess my patient’s rhythm, though I knew the response I would get. The angry whine of a flatline on the EKG told me that she didn’t have a shockable rhythm.

While it was assessing, I prepared the third syringe. This was larger than the other two, with twice the volume. I quickly pushed the contents into her IV and opened the drip as wide as it would go. As predicted, the unit instructed me to call 911 and continue compressions. The first was unlikely. The second, I continued enthusiastically. It was important to get themedication distributed through her blood stream, else the AED was useless.

I counted to two hundred compressions, her rib cage expanding and contracting as I pushed against it with all of my weight. The machine stopped me again, assessing her rhythm. By now I was starting to breathe a little heavily and welcomed the brief respite. I hazarded a glance to the EKG, and saw that the contents of the third syringe were beginning to work their magic. Her heart wasn’t beating, but quivering. A shockable rhythm.

I took a small precautionary step back from the bed and pressed the large green button on the unit. I heard it charging up, and then a soft thud sounded as the electricity discharged into my patient. She jerked slightly on the backboard, hand falling off the side of the bed. I watched the EKG as her heart tried to establish a working rhythm, but failed.

My hands fell back to her chest, pumping hard and fast while the unit re-charged, at presumably a higher setting. For the first time, the thought that I might not be able to revive my patient entered my mind. The thought that she might instead become my victim jarred me to the reality of what was happening. What I had done. When the charging was complete, I eagerly pressed the green button again. The unit hummed and disbursed another jolt of electricity through my patient’s chest. Her head rolled to the side, eyes half opened and unfocused, as if she were watching me. Her heart stopped again as a result of the electric shock, then beat twice before faltering again.

“Damnit!” I swore, bringing a fist down hard on the center of her chest. My fingers were laced again over her chest, pumping furiously. I was breathing hard now from the exertion, cold beads of perspiration and fear glistening on my forehead. It felt like an eternity, those hauntingly beautiful eyes, half closed, watching me. Condemning me for what I had done. I swore again under my breath.

The aed requested that I pause to assess her rhythm, and reminded me to call 911. It seemed now like a brilliant idea, and I fished my blackberry out of the pocket of my trousers. My fingers were trembling as I went to dial the number, but I was interrupted by the AED instructing me to shock the patient. I reached out and pressed the button a third time.

The scene seemed to play in slow motion. The shock was delivered, and I watched as her whole body jerked as energy arced through her chest. Again, the shock stops her heart, and I hold my breath. It seems as if my own heart stops while I watch.

Based on the artwork of @heimlich-heathen

Sarah stood naked at the window and lit her cigarette.  Her pale skin and blond hair were engulfed in a conflagration of yellows and oranges in the dark hotel room.  She took a deep drag.  

As she exhaled she let her entire body relax.  From her neck down to her shoulders, her hips and legs, and even her toes.  She was completely at ease in the darkness.  The only light came from the bathroom where she could see Marc toweling the sticky wetness off himself, he wiped away the remains of their love making.  She did not want him to.  

She met him on a social media site.  After a few days of chatting and playful flirtation they both wanted to meet. Their personalities were perfectly aligned, their thoughts and opinions were utterly in sync.  She had not felt this way about a boy in quite a long time, not since her first high school crush.  He did all the little things right.  The sweet compliments, the thoughtful messages, the bits of art work he drew imagining them together, all waited for her in her inbox each night when she logged on after work.  Their date was supposed to be just drinks, but by the second round they both knew where it was heading.  She proposed getting a room for the night.  Both had roommates, neither would have too much privacy without new accommodations.  

She took another drag and let herself collapse into the cushioned chair in front of the window. The night air was cool as it filled the hot and humid room.  It felt good on her skin and she felt her nipples harden.  She rubbed a hand across her chest remembering the feel of Marc’s hands there just a moment ago.  She felt a familiar tingle between her legs.  She wanted him again.  

He sauntered out of the bathroom, his penis swaying gently, and he opened the minibar.  Sarah took a moment to admire his smooth buttocks as he bent over.  He was toned and lean, his running habits paid off.  

She heard the tinkles and clinks of his exploration before he turned with his bounty.  A few drinks and a bag of cashews.  Fuel for round two, she hoped.  

He filled their glasses and pulled open the bag of nuts before taking a seat across from her.  He dumped the bag on the center of the table and they indulged themselves in the outrageously expensive snacks.  

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He said as he popped a cashew in his mouth.  

“You never asked. Only when I drink and after sex, which usually coincide.  Would you like one?”  

He considered for a moment. He never liked the smell, it was acrid and oppressive, but something about the way her chest moved when she inhaled, and the rush of smoke exiting her lungs did make him curious.  She was a femme fatale, that gorgeous and dangerous woman from an old black and white movie, framed in shadows and the dull glow of the moon.  Naked, bathed in star light, a cigarette burning between her fingers with a thin stream of grey smoke curling in the air.  She was the epitome of seduction in his eyes.  

“Maybe later.”

“No pressure, just being courteous.  I know it’s a bad habit, I just felt like I earned one after the workout we just had.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I’ve… this is going to sound so stupid… but I’ve never… made love before.  And I think that’s what we did.”

She blushed and was thankful for the darkness.  

“I never looked anyone in the eye before during sex.  That was so… intense.”  He had to take another sip of his drink.  He was embarrassed as he babbled.

“It was perfect.  I can’t wait to do it again.” She gave him a big smile.  

“Me too.  Just, you know, give me a few minutes to recharge.”

She was enamored with how bashful he could be in real life, it always fascinated her how different personalities were in real life verses online.  It did worry her, but so far everything about him, and their night, had been perfect.  

“Ok, I need to pee really quick, I’ll be right back.”  He popped another cashew in his mouth and took a sip of his drink.    

“OK!”

He jumped up and dashed to the bathroom, he did not want to make her wait too long.  The door shut behind him with a click.  The room went dark.

Marc relieved himself, unabashedly checking himself out in the mirror as he did.  He used to be so shy and embarrassed about his body, but Sarah made him feel so at ease.  He liked being naked around her.  It was intimate, it was freeing.  

The door burst open behind him and he nearly jumped on top of the toilet in fright.  It was Sarah.  Her hands were at her throat.  She grasped desperately at her neck and pointed but made no sound.  He stared at her unable to comprehend what the hell was happening.  

Suddenly it hit him.  

“Oh shit, are you choking?”

She nodded, tears streamed down her cheeks.  He could see terror in her big bright eyes.  

“OK… OK… hold on!”

He had learned what to do in health class.  Think, idiot!  What did Coach John say?  Check to see if the victim is choking – she clearly was.  Was she coughing?  No. Ok, perform the Heimlich.  Hands… where?  Above the belly button.  Compress the diaphragm up and in, hard, force out the object.  Ok.  

Marc grabbed her arm and swung her around.  He wrapped both arms around her middle and felt for her belly button.  He placed his fist above it and covered with his other hand. He pulled her closer to him. Their skin touched.  His penis was nestled in between her buttocks.  He stayed focused on the situation.

Marc pulled hard and up into Sarah’s stomach.  She lurched hard, her head swung forward and her blond hair whip his chin.  He could smell her, a mix of shampoo and smoke. She still made no sound.  He pulled again and she lurched.

He could see her reflection in the bathroom mirror.  Her face was purple and her lips were blue.  Her cheeks were wet from tears and a puddle of drool collected at the side of her mouth.  She looked at him in the mirror.  Her eyes pleaded with him desperately to save her.  

“I’ve got you, come on.”

He pulled hard again. She lurched.  He watched her breasts bounce in the mirror, expected them to heave or rise, some sign she was breathing.    

He pulled again.  Her head fell.  She was losing consciousness.  

“No, Sarah, come on, work with me!”

He pulled again and lifted her off the ground.  She was heavier now.  

He checked the mirror. Her eyes were open but stared down to the floor.  A glistening stream of saliva leaked from her mouth.  Her lips were a sickening purple.  

He shook her.  Her head bobbed.  

“Sarah, Sarah!”

She made no movements in his arms.  

“Oh, God!”

If the victim loses consciousness you can resume life-saving measures from a supine position.  Lay them on their back and perform abdominal thrusts, Coach John’s voice echoed from far away.

Marc gently lowered Sarah to the cold bathroom floor.  It was a small room, not nearly enough space for both of them.  He had to straddle the toilet bowl in order to delicately place Sarah’s head on the tiles.  He jumped over her, the length of the room, into the bedroom.  He grabbed her ankles and pulled her limp, naked body a few inches to give him space to work on her.  

He knelt over her, straddling her stomach.  The tiles were hard and hurt his knees, and he forced himself to ignore it.  

Sarah’s mouth was still open as if in a silent scream, but her eyes haunted him more.  They had rolled back, the golden hazel of her irises barely visible under the pale lids.  There was no life left in them.  The glimmer and personality, her charisma, it was gone.  

He leaned over her and peered in her mouth.  He used a finger to push her tongue down and searched for anything obstructing her airway. A tan and brown mound protruded behind her tongue.  He swept a finger in her throat and scooped the glob; the slimy clumps coated his finger as he withdrew.  The cashews. She must have – he did not know – maybe chewed and coughed or laughed?  Something made her inhale the nuts.  He had given her those nuts.  This was his fault.  

He did not have time for blame.  He flicked his finger and sent the bits of nuts and spit splatter the porcelain tub. He pulled her jaw down and looked again. Nothing there.  

He sat back on her thighs and pressed both palms into her stomach.  He leaned his full weight into each thrust, forcing her diaphragm up. Again, he pushed hard.  And again.  

He leaned forward and pulled her jaw down with his thumb.  He could see more cashew pieces and swept his finger to scoop it out.  He flicked his finger and scooped again, this time a gurgle scraped its way from her throat.  Her airway was clear and the last breath she took escaped.

With the airway clear, administer two rescue breaths.  

Marc pinched her nose and tilted his head.  He took in a gulp of fresh air and sealed his lips around hers.  They were wet, clammy, covered in spittle and nuts.  He wanted to recoil.

He forced the air of his lungs into her.  Her breasts grazed him as her chest expanded.  He broke the seal and the air rattled back at him.  Some part of him expected her to wake up.  Just a bit of fresh air, that is all she needed.  He waited, his heart pounded in his chest counting the seconds.  Nothing.

He breathed again. The same sickening rattle.  

“Please come back. Please,” he begged.

He inhaled deep and pushed the air into her.  Why was she not waking up?  This was supposed to work.  Why was it not working?

Give manual compressions, hard and fast, repeat for a thirty-to-two ratio.  If this worked, if Sarah came back, he would buy Coach John a new car.  

He pushed himself back and laid his head down on her bare chest.  Her cold flesh against his ear and cheek made him wince.  It’s just the cold of the tile floor, that’s all, she’s not this cold, it’s just the room.

He waited and listened for a thump, a thud, anything.  No breaths, no heartbeat.  Nothing.

“Fuck, please don’t do this!” He screamed at the body under him as he got back to his knees.  

He centered his hands on her sternum.  He locked his arms and forced down hard and fast.  Her body shook from the compressions as he pumped her silent heart.

“…twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”

He pinched her nose and breathed into her.  

“Come on… Come on!”

He pumped her chest hard as he counted softly to himself.  He was out of breath.  His muscles burned.  His knees screamed in pain from the hard floor.  He kept going.

Another two breaths and his hands were back on her chest.

A droplet fell on the back of his hand.  He could not tell if it was sweat or tears.  It was not working, what else could he do?  This could not be the end.  They just met, their first night together and this was how it ended?  No, absolutely not, no!  This cannot be it!

“Breathe, fuck, come on!”

He pinched her nose and sealed his lips over hers.  

Her cough took him by surprise.  Was this real?  Was she back? He refused to move.  Any motion could wake him up and steal the happy ending to his dream.  She took a deep breath of air and blinked frantically against the bright bathroom lights. The spark was back in her beautiful golden hazel eyes.

He took her in his arms, held her tight against him.  Her arms were around him, too.  They held each other, gasping and coughing, deep breaths and pounding heartbeats, all mixed as one.  Marc kissed her.  Not like he just had, this was not a lip-seal, lifesaving kiss.  His kiss was passionate and soft and warm and full of life, she was full of life.  

Her hands groped for him. She found his soft cock and wrapped her fingers around.  She tugged and gripped and played, until he was aroused, until he was hard in her palm. She needed him.  She knew what he did, she knew he saved her, she loved him for it, and now she needed him to do something else.  

She laid herself back and opened her legs for him.  He threw himself on top of her, desperate to be inside her.  He entered her, deep and hard.  She gasped.  His eyes welled with tears hearing it, hearing sounds of her back with him.  He kissed her again, thrusting hard into her.

She locked her legs around him, she would never let him go, she would never leave him again.  The room erupted in sounds of skin slapping, moans and gasps, broken kisses in search of air, until finally the air caught in Sarah’s throat.  Her body erupted in orgasm.  

Marc watched her eyes flash in ecstasy.  They were huge and bright and full of life and just seeing them sent a shockwave of pleasure through him.  He exploded inside her, still thrusting, he never wanted to stop making love to her.

She felt him pulsate inside her as he filled her.  She squeezed her thighs around him, wrapped her arms, and held him close.  His face nuzzled into her neck, sending hot breaths of air around her chest and face.  They stopped moving, except for the frantic inhales of fresh air, laying in each other’s’ arms.

“Now I think I could use a cigarette,” Marc said, listening to the wonderous sound of her beating heart.

I’m sure he said something responsible, like “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” Or, “Let’s get you dried off and safely inside.” He might have even said something crazy, like “I’m a secret agent for the Russian mafia”. I heard none of it.

Instead, the darkness that was flirting at the edge of my vision claimed it entirely. I slumped face forward into the water.

I didn’t stay there long. David pulled me by the hand into his arms and cradled my torso above the water. “Julia?” He shook me and called my name repeatedly. He turned me so that my back was against his chest, with his arms up under mine. He felt for my pulse at my neck, and unsatisfied by what he felt, instantly hoisted me out of the hot tub and onto the deck.

A moment later he was out of the tub too and on his knees at my side. The lighting around the pool and hot tub wasn’t the best, but David could already tell that my face had drained of color entirely. He tried again to rouse me, this time by rubbing his knuckle hard against my breastbone. It might have hurt, had I been aware, but in my present state it had no effect. He smoothed wet hair from my face as he tilted my head back, opening my airway. He leaned down and brought his ear to my face, listening or feeling for breath. There was nothing to feel.

There was no hesitation as he pressed his lips to mine. He drew a deep breath and exhaled into me, filling my lungs. He broke the seal between our mouths and allowed me to exhale, before repeating the process two more times. As I was exhaling the third time, he pressed his fingers to my neck and waited. Nothing.

David ran to the patio and retrieved his phone from the table, dialing EMS as he ran back to me. He put them on speaker and dropped the phone beside me as he traced the outline of my rib cage. He found the spot, laced his hands together, and had already snapped out ten compressions before they answered the call.

David relayed the relevant information to the dispatcher calmly. Ambulance needed at 101 Morning View Drive. Female, approximately 37 years old, no pulse, not breathing, no known health conditions. CPR in progress. He was clear and concise on the phone, using only as many words as were absolutely required, because his attention was focused on providing aid. After taking our names and a call back number, the dispatcher assured that an ambulance was en route and to remain calm.

David was already ignoring the phone. He was aware that guidelines had shifted away from giving mouth to mouth during CPR and that a rescuer was supposed to provide compressions at a specific, sustainable rate. Just as his conversation was on the phone, his movements were also controlled and concise, expedient but efficient. In the span of sixty seconds, he had compressed my heart a hundred times.

My head had rolled slightly to the side, my lips still parted. David repositioned my head, lightly pinched my nose shut, pressed his lips to mine again and exhaled his warm breath into my still lungs. One large hand rested on my flat abdomen and pushed gently as he parted the seal between our mouths, helping me to exhale completely. He breathed for me two more times before resuming his position over my chest.

The compressions were rapid and violent. His large hands crushed my breastbone down two inches every time. He was squeezing my heart between spine and sternum with no remorse as he willed the blood to resume its flow through my veins. I was completely limp and completely at his mercy, my body rocking at the force, wet hair a dark halo under my head.

He patiently repositioned my head and breathed for me again. My chest rose as he inflated my lungs, then fell again as he forced me to exhale. David felt for a pulse again as sirens wailed in the distance. The way things echoed here, they were still probably several minutes away at best, if they were even the ones dispatched to my house. Dispatch asked if there had been any change in my status, and he confirmed that there was not.

As if spurred by this perceived failure he appeared to increase his efforts, even as the physical exertion was beginning to take its toll. He was breathing a little heavily and his shoulders ached. Still, he maintained the depth and speed of the compressions. This time, he continued compressions for a solid three minutes, not stopping to check my pulse nor to breathe for me. Just deep compressions, over and over. Not once did he falter.

He would not have been able to tell in the dark, but my color had improved. I remember the sensation of feeling the compressions, like my chest was being tightly squeezed, my lungs burning. When he paused this time to check my pulse, he was breathing heavily but his efforts were rewarded when he felt my heart beating. It was slow and weak, but unmistakable.

Again, his lips were against mine. He breathed into me over and over, slow and deep, putting as much energy into it as he had the violent compressions. I remember the feel of his lips against mine, too. I remember how with every breath he gave me, the burning in my chest lessened. I remember trying to breathe on my own, but my body didn’t remember how yet. It was okay though, because he kept giving me air. I was certain that he would keep giving me air, as long as I needed.

And then I gasped.

And choked.

And vomited.

He turned my head to the side, and I felt his fingers in my mouth. I gagged some more as a mixture of wine and chicken came rocketing up my throat. David’s long fingers swept the vomit out of my mouth. My whole body seemed to convulse as my stomach emptied itself. With every cough though I was drawing in more oxygen and I could feel strength returning.

My eyes fluttered open and I looked around in confusion. He had moved my head back straight, and his fingers were at my neck, monitoring. For a moment I wasn’t sure what had happened, and then the world came crashing back at me in an assault on my senses. The sirens were closer, their piercing sirens all too loud. My eyes were suddenly wide and I tried to sit up. He felt the surge of panic as my pulse spiked.

Gently but firmly he held me down. His voice was kind, his words soothing to me. I’m not sure what he said, and in the moment it didn’t matter. He then confirmed to someone else that I had a pulse, was breathing, and was conscious. After a moment, he took his fingers from my neck. I wanted to sit up and I think maybe he sensed this. He helped me up, but I wasn’t strong enough to maintain the position. David wrapped me in an oversized towel and held me against him. My head rested weakly against his shoulder. He buried his face in my hair and might have cried.

It wasn’t long after that EMS burst through the gate with a stretcher loaded with gear. Seconds later they had a hissing oxygen mask over my face, electrodes stuck to my skin, a probe on my finger and a cuff around my arm. I glanced at the heart monitor as one paramedic was trying to take my medical history, while another asked him what had happened. Yet another started an IV in my arm. There was so much noise and confusion. The monitor was beeping continuously but rapidly. Words like arrhythmia and tachycardia were said. My blood pressure was too low. Another pair of electrodes, larger than the others, was attached to my chest. They assured me it was just a precaution, but I had no idea what they were for anyway. I was overwhelmed by the cacophony. I was scared, and my body threatened to pass out again.

“Julia? Julia just breathe. It’s okay.”

I glanced over to the owner of the voice. It was David. He still looked worried, but he also looked tired and relieved. He reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. I returned the squeeze weakly. “Breathe,” he insisted.

I took a deep breath. The plastic of the mask smelled foul. For the first time I realized that my chest was sore. It felt like I had been hit by a baseball bat. It hurt to breathe, and my body rebelled at the thought. An alarm chimed from the monitor as my heart began to skip beats again.

David was shooed out of the way and they laid me back on a stretcher. I could feel the skips again and was afraid I’d pass out, but there was little I could do to prevent it. I could hear voices but they were suddenly a million miles away. I strained to make out what they were saying but it was futile.

Something was injected into my vein. It burned like hell and I felt myself gasp reflexively. The burn slowly spread from my arm into my chest and into the rest of my body. My tongue tingled. It felt like I was trying to breathe through a coffee straw. It was too much effort, and I was much too tired. So I stopped.

I was only vaguely aware of the oxygen mask being ripped off my face, replaced by a different one attached to a purple plastic bag. Someone squeezed it at regular intervals, and it forced air through my nose and mouth and into my lungs. The oxygen bottle still hissed somewhere and I think that perhaps it was attached to this device. It helped ease the burning in my lungs, but I could tell that I was close to unconsciousness.

The alarm rang out again on the monitor, but this time I was not even surprised. Someone was rubbing at my chest, and someone else was calling my name. They were too far away, and I was too weak to respond. The gaps in my pulse were more pronounced. I only noticed an occasional heartbeat now and then. Then my heart stopped for the second time this evening, and this spurred everyone to action.

The door to the house clicked closed and out of habit, he flipped the lock on the front door and then the deadbolt.  He could see the beginning of the setting sun through the back window as he walked through the foyer and grabbed the swiffer mop out of the hall closet and went to the kitchen.  The entire back yard was thrown into shade as a cool evening breeze poured in through the open back patio door.

Shannon would be at least a little upset if she walked into the kitchen and stuck to an orange juice coated floor.  It was easier to just take care of it now before he coaxed her into the house. He picked up the towel, tossed it into the sink with the bottle and ran the mop quickly over the floor.  

It had been weeks since they had sat together on the patio and just enjoyed a glass of wine.  With no ulterior motive other than to watch the sun go down with her, he grabbed 2 wine glasses and a bottle of Moscato that had been chilling unopened in fridge for what seemed like ages.  Pausing to look out the window, he eyes fell on the chair that he had left her in… but the chair was empty. He didn’t hear splashing and the pool lights were off, the setting sun turning the reflection dark, so he turned his attention to the house.  

“Shannon, hun?  Are you in here?” He called to the back of the house, but there was no answer as he set the bottle and glasses on the counter and stepped onto the back patio.  

“Sha…”  I hits him like a punch to the gut as his eyes glance over the surface of the pool.  The wind momentarily leaves his lungs. Only seconds before he could hear the girls playing through the fence and smell their grill as Mark fired it up.  It’s like someone pulled him into a vacuum as all sound, all scents disappeared and left him standing rooted in place momentarily. “Oh shit, SHANNON!!” his mind and body went into autopilot as he ran and jumped feet first into the deep end of the pool, pushing of the bottom with his feet and rocketing towards her body floating in the water.

He reached her body in seconds treading water that was just over his head as he reached for her and pulled her into his arms he leaned back.  “Shannon baby, come on, wake up,” he calls desperately as he rolls her body in the water until she is face up. The fading light casts shadows over her skin, but not enough for him to miss the fact that her lips are blue as his legs kick powerfully in the water pulling her back towards water where he can stand.  

She floats limply as he pulls her into waist deep water pausing long enough to shake her and then tilt her head back to push air into her lungs.  Water pours out of her mouth as she floats limply in the water. In the span of a second he has her in his arms and against his chest, her head thrown limply back as her arm flops limply back and hangs loose.  

“Jamie??” he hears Austin’s voice as he takes the first of the steps out of the pool.  “The front door was locked. I hate to bother you….” he couldn’t see her yet, but he didn’t care.  She came turning the corner from the narrow swatch of lawn that stretched up the side of the house.  “Katie forgot…”

“Austin! Help me!” he screamed cutting her off as he took the final step out of the pool and onto the stone decking. “Turn on the floodlights!” Seconds later the pool deck was flooded with white light and Austin saw Shannon’s body in his arms.   Her response was instantaneous as she ran to him and helped him lower her body safely to the ground.

“Come on baby,” he said as he watched blood seep out of the wound at her temple and he laid her down on the pool deck.  Her the blue in her lips and the quick look that Austin gave him, he knew she wasn’t breathing as Austin’s fingers probed her carotid for a pulse.

“Start CPR.  You know how???” He can’t say anything at all, only nods at her in acknowledgement as Austin grabs his hands and squares them over the deep vee of her swimsuit between her breasts.  His fingers bend up the side of her breast. “Hard and fast,” she urges, stands, and sprints out of the yard.

Jaime looks down at Shannon’s pale face as he compresses her chest quickly, counting as he goes.  1, 2, 3….. Water pours from her mouth with each jab he delivers hard and fast into her chest. He pauses at 30 long enough to lean down and put his ear to her mouth.  No breath feathers out against his cheek and he puts his hands back between her breasts and pumps harder.

“Come on baby… cough the water up,” he shouted at her still body as he approached the end of his second set of compressions.  As the last compression bent the curves of her chest, he reached for her face and wiped the water away. “Come on Shannon, breathe!”  With his hand under the back of her neck, he tilted her airway open before sealing his lips to hers. Her lips were cold from the pool water, cold and soft as he pressed his thinner, warm lips against hers and forced air down into her lungs.  Water bubbles up with her exhale. Even though she takes some air, there is still more water than air in her body.

His hand brushes against the side of her head, feeling the large, swelling bump and getting blood all over his palm as she lays lifeless in his hands.  Blood drips down the side of her face and mixes with the saltwater turning 4he blood streaks dark pink as it spreads on the stone around her. For a split second he looks at her blood, the stuff that helps keep her alive and wants to hurl.  Her suppresses the urge, swallowing the bile in the back of his throat and wiping it on his black swim trunks so he can’t see it on his palm. Time isn’t on her side and he knew it because he had no idea how long she had been in that pool. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he replaces his hands on her chest can continues trying to revive her.

As his hands go down into her chest, her body shakes from head to toe as her head rolls toward him limply.  Water spills out between her pale blue lips with every beat he forces her heart to take. His fingers slip into the deep vee of her plunging neckline and rest across the surface of her swollen breast.  With each beat he pistons down into her breastbone, the simple straps of the swimsuit top slip off the gentle slope of her still shoulders pulling the vee wider. Her breasts shake against his hands, one of them slowly slipping from the loosened cups of her top. His fingers grazed a nipple, feeling it harden slightly at the friction created by his compressions.  

Austin sees him hunched over her body when she rounds the corner, her own personal gear that she keeps with her slung over her shoulder as she talks on the phone.  He is crying and it breaks her heart as he leans over cupping her neck in his large hand and breathes into her deeply, forcing her chest and stomach to shoot up.

“Come on babe, come back to me.  You can’t keep that water in you.  I need to feel you breathing,” she heard him say softly to her as she dropped to the stones beside them after grabbing a towel from the nearby table and pressing to her head.

“Jamie,” she said calmly as she pulled the phone away from her mouth.  “Do you know what happened or how long she was in the water?”

“I… I don’t know.   She was in the chair when I walked you home. I wasn’t gone that long.”

“It’s okay,” she says quickly.  “We don’t know,” she says again into the phone.  “She isn’t breathing, no pulse, and she has a head laceration. We are doing CPR.  I have my gear. I will do what I can, but we need transport asap.” She hung up the phone.  

Austin began to throw the large case open and began pulling things out quickly.

“Really, really glad you are a paramedic at this moment,” he said breathlessly as his compressions rocked her chest, her breasts jiggling and shaking each time he punched down into her sternum.  

Kim crawled into bed and nuzzled into the covers like a puppy before a nap.  She was entirely satisfied with the events of their play-date, ready to curl up and go to sleep.  Chris, however, was not finished.  It was, after all, his turn now.  She watched him approach the bed, carrying the LifePak monitor, and swooned at the way his penis undulated between his legs.  

What a gorgeous work of art, God, well done, she thought to herself.  

Chris plopped the monitor on the bed beside Kim and went to fetch the bag with the rest of the goodies, giving Kim a perfect view of his rear-end.  She loved the little bit of blonde hair that fuzzed those little cheeks.  

When he had all the toys in place, Chris crawled into the bed with Kim, their warm naked flesh pressed together, hands groping and squeezing at anything and everything as they kissed.  Chris sealed his lips over hers and breathed deep into her lungs.  He stopped when he felt resistance and opened his throat to let her return the air.  They exchanged breaths back and forth, grinding their bodies together, his cock between her legs, her wet lips oozing over his shaft as he thrust against her.  They were both shaking, fighting for air, refusing to let go of one another, inhaling and exhaling faster and faster.  

They finally had to break free, filling the room with a loud burst of air and their exhausted gasps.  Before he could even catch his breath, Chris slipped his cock inside Kim, forcing her to gasp.  She gripped the bed sheets against his thrusts as he lifted her legs up around him.  He drove deep into her, as deep as he could, before pulling back and driving again.  Her head arched back in ecstasy, eyes rolled into her head, still gripping desperately to the bed sheets.  He watched as her breasts bounced back and forth with each drive of his cock into her, hypnotized by the oscillation of her big pink nipples.  

He could feel the tingle and tightness forewarning his orgasm, and he pulled out of her immediately. He had no intention of finishing so soon.  Kim grasped one of her breasts and pinched her nipple with one hand and rubbed herself with the other, clearly not wanting to stop.  As pleasured herself, Chris got up off the bed to give himself time to cool down.

He had brought a bottle of vodka with cranberry and lime juices for mixing.  He made himself a warm vodka and lime in one of the disposable plastic cups, he had forgotten to get ice before setting the scene in the bathroom for Kim to find.  He took a few swigs, savoring the tart and spicy drink, and watched Kim as she played with herself.  She was stunning.  Tan body, plump and full, plenty to jiggle when he fucked or resuscitated her.  He had not asked, but assumed she was of Italian or Greek heritage, not that it mattered.  Dark hair, tan skin, dark eyes, simply stunning.  

He finished the last swig of his drink.  He liked to drink during playtime, it made him less self-conscious, quieted that nagging anxiety.  Not all of his partners did though, some thought it unwise to lose all inhibitions during rough play, which he understood, but he also enjoyed the added bonus of lasting longer while fucking.  He tossed the empty cup onto the desk in the corner of their hotel room.  It was time to play.  

Chris slapped three electrodes onto Kim’s chest, as she had just moments ago to his own.  He hooked her to the monitor, and the familiar beeps started again.  Her resting heart rate was higher than his at 70BPM.  She laid back nice and still letting him take control.  

He rubbed her breasts, first.  They were so perfect, large but not saggy.  Her nipples were just above center, perky and round.  He sucked on them.  He tongued around her areolas, and gently nibbled on her nipples.  His fingers found her wet pussy, and he pried the sticky lips apart.  She was smooth and shaved, which he preferred.  He slipped a finger inside her.  She arched her back, and the monitor gave out a few quick beeps as her heartrate climbed.

His mouth found hers, and they exchanged breaths again.  The monitor went wild as they fought for air against each other, his hand ravaging her pussy.  She grabbed ferociously for his rock-hard cock and stroked him as she writhed against the linens.  The beeps grew faster and faster until they finally released each other.  

Chris maneuvered himself on top of her and entered her.  This time he did not thrust, he just let himself rest inside the warm, wet sheath between her legs.  He reached over and pulled the LifePak within easy reach.  Still inside her, he grabbed the paddles and applied the electrolytic gel.

“Keep it low,” she requested.  He complied and set it to 50J with his thumb.  

Chris leaned forward and placed the paddles to her chest.  One above her right breast, and the other below her left.  He had to shift her left breast out of the way with the paddle in order to make contact with the skin.  He used the paddles on her chest to balance himself, and he began to thrust into her.  

As he fucked her, he charged the paddles.  

In… out… in… out… “clear…” in… thunk!

He fired the paddles as he drove himself hard and deep inside her.  She arched in blinding pain and pleasure as her body contracted from the shock.  He could feel the walls of her vagina grasp hard around his cock with the shock, so hard he could not pull out.  As she relaxed, he continued fucking her, slow and even movements.  

“Charging again,” and he flicked the little yellow button on the side of the paddle. 

In… out… in… out… “clear…” in… thunk!

Again, the shock forced her tight around his cock, as she seized.  She gasped for breath, and the monitor danced erratically.  Her heart was in an irregular beat, and she struggled for breath. He fucked her harder, he was more aroused than he had ever been.  

He spun the wheel on the paddle to 200J and charged them again.  Kim writhed under him, trying to get any air into her lungs that she could.

“No… please… no… no more…” She gasped.

“I didn’t hear the safe word,” Chris said with Brian’s grin on his lips.  

Cheesecake, was the word they had agreed on when they first played together.  Something delicious, and easily memorable.

“No… please…” she was having a hard time saying the words between the lack of oxygen and Chris fucking her.

Thunk!

The jolt went through both of them.  Chris felt his body contract with the shock, his head went black and he saw stars, like getting kicked in the head.  After a second, he regained his senses.  Kim was now limp beneath him, her legs which once wrapped tight around him had fallen. The monitor scratched fine squiggles across the screen.  She was in v-fib.  

Chris let go of the paddles and continued to fuck her.  Now it was a race.  He had to finish before she went flat.  He could not shock her now without potentially stopping his own heart, she required too high a shock.  

He fucked her hard. Her limp body heaved with each thrust, her breasts jiggled and flopped, her head was now limp to the side.  Her eyes were half open, her mouth ajar.  Harder, harder, harder.  The bed slammed against the wall.  The light fixtures shook.  

He exploded inside her. His cock throbbing and pumping hot semen into her, and he kept thrusting.  His eyes rolled back, he could barely stand the intense pleasure.  He kept going through the orgasm, until he started to go soft and he could not fuck her anymore.  He lowered his chest to hers, his face to hers, and caught his breath.

The monitor’s wails woke him from the haze of bliss.  He checked the monitor, she was still in v-fib.  He pulled his now half-hard cock out and knelt around beside her facing the screen.  He grabbed the paddles and applied the gel.

“Charging 360J.  Clear.”

Thunk!

The squiggly line flashed off the screen as the shock was delivered.  He watched it fall back into v-fib.

“Again, clear.”

He charged, and shocked. 

Thunk!  Her breasts shook from the jolt.  

The line on the monitor went flat.  Her usual tan skin was now noticeably pale.  

Chris’s breath caught in his throat.

In a flurry, Chris reached over her body and grabbed the goody bag.  He pulled out a syringe, and jabbed it into her arm, forcing the plunger as hard as he could.  He tossed it aside and started compressions.  As he pushed, her body caved into the mattress.  He could not do CPR properly on the bed, he’d had to move her.  

He ripped the cords from her chest and reached underneath her lifeless body.  One arm under her shoulders, the other under her legs, he pulled her down onto the floor.  She was much heavier than he expected and realized the frightening meaning of dead weight.  As he laid her down, her legs separated, and his cum drip out onto the hotel room carpet.

He got up and retrieved the LifePak.  He placed it next to her on the ground and reattached the electrodes.  The monitor was still flat.  He placed his hands in between her breasts, both now flopped to the sides of her chest.  

The flat line jumped into big squiggles registering his CPR.  He pressed hard and fast, her body jerking from the force.  Each time he pressed down, her belly jumped.  If he was not so worried, he would be aroused.

He stopped to check to monitor, breathing heavily.  Still flat. He continued compressions.  

“You idiot, you fucking idiot,” he scolded himself.  Why had he waited so long?  It was stupid, it was selfish.  He could have finished at any time, he did not have to race the clock.  You had the drink to last longer, now look what you did, she’s dead and you killed her. You fucking idiot, your life is over, too.

He ceased compressions and checked the screen.  Still flat.

Chris got up and grabbed another syringe from the bag on the bed.  He injected her again.  His hands went back in between her breasts, and he pumped hard and fast, his soft cock dangling between his legs.  

He checked the monitor again.  V-fib.

His eyes burned with tears of relief, there was still hope, but he had only won the battle, not the war.  He grabbed the paddles and applied the gel.

“Charging 360J.”  He rubbed them down onto her chest, again pushing her left breast away to make contact with the side of her body.  

“Come on, Kim. Clear!”

Thunk!

She seized and jiggled.  Still v-fib.

“Again, clear!”

Thunk!

Still v-fib.

“Fuck you, come on! Charging!”  The paddles whined and charged to 360J.  “Clear!”  

Thunk!

Beep… beep… beep… beep…

Chris’s eyes burned red hot with tears as he saw the sinus rhythm on the monitor.  His relief lasted only a few seconds as he realized Kim still was not breathing.  He tossed the paddles aside and began breathing for her.  

He blew slow but forceful. Her cheeks puffed, and her chest expanded.  He let the breath out and breathed again.  After each breath he watched and listened for her to breathe on her own.  

Only a little longer, I told myself as my chest got tighter and tighter. Just a few more seconds and he’ll let me up, let me breathe Just a little longer.

I battled with my body, fought the urge to open my mouth, forcing my body to calm its rising panic. My throat strained and my chest caved slightly as a false inhale dragged at my ribs. Shit, this was tough. But, I continued to fight. I knew he expected me to do good and I wanted to please him so badly. So, so badly.

Finally, I felt his hand tighten in my hair as he dragged my head up from the water. I gasped so hard that sparkles danced in my vision and I felt his fingers against my throat. He left them there as he bent down to speak in my ear.

“Good girl. That was much longer than last time.” I felt a smile cross my lips at the praise and an accompanying heat rose in between my legs. I did not have the breath to speak, to thank him for saving me and being so kind, so I settled for grinding my ass against his crotch. I didn’t miss the sharp, heavy intake of air he took at the action. I felt him grind back ever so slightly.

“You naughty girl.” He was speaking in my ear again, licking the shell of it, and one of his big hands drifted down to my warmth. I ached for him, the soreness like bruising welling into my bones.

“Sir, please…” I managed.

“What, love? Talk to me.” He whispered, one chilled finger playing at my cunt.

“I want… you. Please.” I begged, shamelessly. I bit back a tiny whimper at the tremors inside me. My master sighed and kissed the back of neck, lips so gentle I almost cried. He caressed me a little longer, playing with me.

Suddenly, his fingers left me. The lack of touch was so abrupt I felt like I’d been dropped like a sack of puppies. I cried out momentarily before my head was jerked back so I could look him in the eyes. He gazed at me, bi colored eyes piercing and rooting me to the spot. I was filled with love as he laid a soft kiss on my forehead.

“I’m sorry, pet. But, I’m not done with my fun yet.”

I barely had a chance to fill my lungs again before he slammed my face back into the water. I wasn’t ready for the coolness of the water and I very nearly gasped out of shock.

I braced myself and waited, knowing that soon the need to breathe would soon be upon me. It was a much shorter amount of time, only about a minute, before my chest started to hurt. I felt the involuntary convulsions begin; every single one felt like it would force my lips to part and that would be the end. I felt my master’s fingers on my throat once again, checking my quickening pulse. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and the fingers against my neck soon took a place under my left breast. I knew he could feel it hammering out a tattoo against his palm from there.

A minute and a half and I was getting dizzy. I felt my legs starting to give, but the master braced me with his body. I trusted him, knew that he would pull me out, but the panic was returning. My heart picked up speed again, thrusting into his hand like a trapped bird. I sagged further and my chest heaved once. It was my undoing.

I gasped, hard, unable to stop my mouth from dropping open. The water rushed into my lungs and it felt like liquid lead. It was so heavy and my body was so starved for air. I gulped again, mind telling my body to stop but the urge too powerful. I was being moved, suddenly, my face coming out of the water. I felt the ground coming up to meet me.

“Breathe, baby.” I heard him, felt him tapping my cheek. “Come on.”

I tried, gods did I try, but I couldn’t force my lungs to inflate. I tried to open my eyes, tried to move my hands, but to no avail. My mind was growing foggy. It was hard to think.

“I got you, baby. Hold on.” He was speaking again. I felt his hands on my throat, my face, my chest. My body was rolled to the side and his hand held my mouth open. I knew the water being forced out of me; I could feel his hands slapping my back and pressing down on my ribs. He moved me onto my back and his lips were on mine. His warm breath filled me, made my chest expand, and it was heaven. It cleared the fog. He breathed for me multiple times, over and over giving life to me. He called out to me, voice unwaveringly calm. I was unsure how long I was out until I finally took a breath of my own.

It was small, just a partial exhale as his lips descended onto mine again. He felt it and pulled back.

“Breathe for me. You can do it. One more.” His voice was so loving. I did what he asked.

I breathed.

Laura sat in the waiting room of an upmarket London clinic scrolling through email on her phone. The difference between this and a her GP was denoted mostly by the absences. No piles of tatty germ-ridden trashy mags, no stroppy receptionist behind a dirty glass screen and most importantly no queue of 30 sick people in front of her. There was still the faint smell of antiseptic, but the seats were leather and the walls plain and tastefully painted. All very Farrow and Ball.

She’d been with her employer for 3 months now and the transition from probationer to full-time employee required, amongst other things, a medical examination. It should really be a formality, if anyone failed it was usually due to the drugs test. The City of London was rife with cocaine use, but it left the body without a trace after a couple of days. A coworker who knew she was awaiting her medical even commented that she had enough time for it leave her bloodstream if she had a clean weekend. Cannabis, however, stayed for up to 6 weeks, consequently, those who failed were either hardcore cokeheads who couldn’t leave it for a single day or stoners who probably forgot.

Laura was no stranger to sniffing powder on a night out and like most 30-year-olds in the City, drank white wine like mineral water. Usually in conjunction with a pack of Malborough Lights. But hey, she was still young enough to get away with it and a few punishing gym sessions a week kept her looking fit.

A Nurse appeared and beckoned her to an examination room. Laura stood up and followed, long legs striding after her, heels clipping on the tiled floor. Her black bobbed hair swinging with the motion.

“If you could please strip-down to your tights and underwear that would be great. Just lay on the couch when you’re ready and the doctor will be with you in a few moments.”

Laura complied without question, slipping out of her smart skirt and jacket, folding them neatly and placing them on the leather dressing stool supplied. Carefully unbuttoning her silk blouse she looked around the room, There were scales, a contraption for measuring height and a collection of instruments arranged neatly on a desk. All the usual suspects, a stethoscope with a big shiny bell, a blood pressure cuff and various shapes of inspection lights and tiny rubber hammers. As she reached the last button her eyes settled upon a full-length mirror, smiling as she looked at herself in an unbuttoned blouse and sheer black tights. The scene felt surprisingly sensual, it was a luxury not afforded when visiting a GP and the submissive sexualization of it was not lost on her.

Dropping her blouse atop the pile and stepping out of her heels, Laura hopped onto the examination couch. It made her feel very young and she obediently pulled her arms into her side with her knees tight together, toes pointing downward in submissive anticipation of the doctor’s arrival.

After a couple of short moments, the Doctor coughed outside to announce his arrival as the door swung open and closed with a soft thud behind him.

“Laura?” he asked with the upward inflection of someone from the Antipodes.  Rolling her head to look at him she smiled in acknowledgment. Mid-30s she surmised, blonde hair, still a touch of the surf in his demeanor. His broad shoulders and thickset shape hinted at a former high-school jock.

“Then we’d better get started. “I’m Doctor Foster if at any stage you feel you need a chaperone or feel in any way uncomfortable just say and I’ll fetch the Nurse.” Although what he actually said was “fitch the nerse”, his broad Aussie twang lifting the letters at the end of each word.

With formalities aside, he set about the business of conducting Laura’s examination. She’d not had a medical since her gap year at Uni and although she found submitting herself to the will of a Doctor quite thrilling – especially one as handsome as Dr Foster – she was a little worried about what may be unearthed.

The Dr moved with brisk and jolly efficiency, feeling Laura’s glands and pulses before palpitating her tummy tapping her joints with the funny little hammer. He tested her eyes, weighed and measured her and was only as he took her blood pressure that his demeanor stiffened. The cuff had tightened around her arm and the soft sound of escaping air as it deflated was broken by his question.

“When were you born?”

“February 7, 1987.”

“So you’re not even 31?”

“Er, no, is it a problem?”, enquired Laura a little nervously.

“You’re BP’s really high for someone your age and profile, can you sit up for me please.”

The Doctor picked up the stethoscope and hooked it into his ears.

“Deep breaths for me please”, he asked, pressing the cold stethoscope onto her smooth back. Laura complied, her chest expanding and contracting as he listed to the air rasp in and out of her bronchia.

The Doctor appeared to take some time as he methodically moved the cold instrument up and down each side of her back.

As he finished and unhooked his stethoscope Laura gasped a little, lightheaded after the sustained period of deep breathing. Trying to hide her somewhat premature exhaustion Dr Foster fixed upon her with a disapproving stare.

“It said in your notes you don’t smoke.”

“I don’t”, lied Laura.

“Please don’t take me for an idiot Miss, I can f… I can hear the tar rattling in your lungs.

Laura looked down and blushed. There was no coming back from this.

“Lying on the form is an instant fail, you know that?”

Laura looked up in horror. She didn’t smoke that much and assumed she could bluff through it like you do when registering with a GP. As far as they were concerned she was a tee-total non-smoker salad eater. No one was ever going to check. Until now. Her bottom lip started to quiver.

“Ok, keep your pantyhose on, I’ll say you had a chest infection, a mild chest infection and that I advised you see your GP.” His mood had softened and Laura smiled in gratitude.

“It’s more than my bloody job’s worth, but you have to promise to see your GP to get advice on quitting. OK?”

“Definitely, I promise”, replied Laura in visible relief, looking up from under her fringe with gamine charm.

“Let’s get this finished shall we? Can you lie flat for me please.”

At this point, she’d have fellated him to get out of it. It even crossed her mind that she’d rather like to say thank you.

“Can you please slip your bra off and lay flat for me please”, reiterated the Doctor. Cin you ley flit for mi please - Laura quite liked his accent and complied, unhooking her lacy pale blue bra, laying flat and straight as he pressed a cold stethoscope onto the warm skin at the apex of her chest.

His eyes narrowed as he listened intently. There was an urgency to the way he moved the stethoscope over her naked chest. Without warning, he lifted her left breast and pressed his stethoscope deep into where it met her ribcage. Taken aback by the apparent breach of intimate consent Laura opened her mouth to complain but was cut off before she could speak.

“How long have you known about the heart murmur?” Again he fixed her with a stare, this time more concern that disapproval.

“Heart murmur?” spluttered Laura, incredulous.

“Your heart’s not even beating efficiently enough to clear your lungs, hence the rattles. Please don’t fib to me again Miss, this is really serious”.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The colour had now drained from Laura’s face. She knew something was up, she couldn’t even warm up at the gym without feeling exhausted and had started taking the bus the small distance between her flat and the Tube Station, but this was an awful shock. All she could think about was failing the medical and losing her job.

“If you want to get dressed please I’m going to write you a note.”

“For my employer?“, asked Laura hopefully, fastening her bra.

“No, for the hospital. You need to go to A&E straight away, you need a full cardiac assessment and we don’t have the facilities here. Bart’s is just up the road, I’ll write you a note to jump the queue. I suggest you jump in a cab, is there anyone who can go with you?”

Laura was mortified. The full enormity of the situation, or some it at least, was just beginning to hit her.

“Back in a sec, I’ll leave you to dress in peace. Oh and a Nurse will be in to take some blood as well.”

The door slammed shut as Laura slipped-on her silk blouse and started to fasten the tiny buttons. Heart murmur? How was that even possible. There were a million thoughts flying through her head and her heart was racing, but she kept coming back to the same thing. What about my job? If word got out she’d failed a medical it’d be game over. Just wearing tights and a half-buttoned blouse she picked up her small handbag to locate her phone, but before she could use it went into cardiac arrest.

There was no crushing pain or discomfort like there is on tv medical shows. Her heart simply stopped beating. It was like someone had switched out a light, dropping to the floor like a marionette with its strings suddenly cut. Her head missed the metal edge of the examination couch by a few centimeters as she fell sideways, landing with legs bent as if she were mid-stride on the floor.

It could have happened anywhere. In her sleep or the bath would have certainly ensured her fate. In the gym or raving at a west-end club would have probably been similar, by the time someone had actually realized and administered first-aid. Work may have been ok, most big firms have AEDs these days, but again it would be dependent upon someone having the wherewithal and indeed knowledge to get it and apply timely CPR.

As it was, and by absolute coincidence, she was in a private medical clinic. Although statistically speaking that wasn’t great either. Any London teaching hospital may be overstretched and struggling but you’d be surrounded by people used to dealing with a stopped heart. In such critical situations instinct is invaluable and that comes with experience. The kind of experience you only get working in a big hospital with pooled, colligate knowledge. Even a London paramedic crew would be a good bet given restarting a stopped heart is a staple of their job.

Doctor Foster had spent a year as a Medic on a Kibbutz after graduation, the small amount of time he spent in Hebron was enough to convince him private practice in the UK or back home was a better bet. 5 years of private practice in a former industrial City in the North of England was enough to convince him private practice was probably preferable. He was well qualified and a good man, popular with both patients and staff members, although crucially up to this moment at least, he’d never experienced the terror of dealing with a stopped heart. Especially in a patient he had just examined.

The nurse was the first to find Laura and to her absolute credit remained calm and followed procedure to the letter. There was a protocol for a cardiac arrest, although it had never been used in anger. There was an alarm which when heard meant all practitioners were obliged by law to drop what they were doing and attend to the victim.

The nurse hit the alarm and dropped to her knees beside Laura, although it would soon transpire that all Doctors bar Dr Foster were at lunch. Rolling Laura’s head backward the Nurse pinched her nostrils with dainty fingers and sealed her own pained lips around Laura’s, her blue bra rising through her half-open blouse as her lungs inflated.

As Dr Foster rushed in the Nurse was rocking hard as she attempted to massage Laura’s arrested heart. Her compressions were too light to be effective, however.

The doctor dropped beside her and felt in vein for a carotid pulse. In disbelief, he pressed his stethoscope hard onto Laura’s chest but could hear nothing but the faint gurgle of unoxygenated blood languishing in her motionless heart.

The day had been a slow one, a couple of small calls came through; a couple of car accidents, and a diabetic call, all refusals. We were sent back to station and remained there for hours. It was already 2:00am, and I only had a few hours until I got off shift. Restless, tossing and turning, I just couldn’t sleep, so I went to our unit and looked through the supplies. Sitting on the bench, I stared at the new Lifepak. Sleek screen, leads neatly wrapped, pads still in their new packages, and the paddles lay atop, glistening. My heart raced as I felt the weight of the heart monitor, fantasizing about my first time using this magnificent machine, and all I could do with it. Some time passed and I decided to go back to my room. It wasn’t five seconds after I had tried to jump back into bed, when the alarms screamed through the station.

“Medvac 2; Medic 12 respond to 3480 Titanic Boulevard, in reference to a possible drowning. Repeat; Medic 12 Respond to 3480 Titanic Boulevard, in reference to a possible drowning. My heart kicked my sternum as I jumped to my feet, and ran to the ambulance. I started the truck up, and before we could leave the lot, my lights and sirens were igniting the night sky. “Report of a 20 year-old female, found unresponsive, not breathing, by her mother about 7 minutes ago.” My partner said, checking our computer.

You’re sitting in the waiting room of the surgery center, bored out of your mind. You didn’t think there would be this many people getting their procedures done on a Wednesday morning. You listen to one of your favorite playlists and play some dumb games on your phone, trying your best to relax. 

“Clara Roberts?” the nurse calls. You jump right out of your seat at the sound of your name. Finally! It’s been over an hour! You’re so anxious you just want to get this over with. 

“Follow me back to your room,” says the nurse. You shiver as you walk through the hallway. Why is it always so goddamn cold in doctor’s offices? 

When you reach your room the nurse hands you a gown, a thick pair of socks, and a rather goofy looking hairnet. 

“The doctor wants you to strip down all the way under the gown, the socks are just to make you comfy, you don’t have to wear them if you want. And don’t worry about the hat, that doesn’t have to go on ‘til we wheel you in!”

Gown and socks on, you wait cuddled under the thin blankets on your bed. You flip through channels on the TV, muting it when a member of the medical staff comes in to either check on your IV or ask some basic questions. 

Your nurse checks on you again about 45 minutes after you last saw her. She reaches over you to fluff your pillows. You try not to blush with her chest in your face and fear the heart monitor might give you away. 

“Sorry about the wait Ms. Roberts but Dr. Skinner is taking a bit longer with his first surgery than originally planned. We should get you in there soon! He should be here any minute now to go over your procedure.”

You nod, head heavy from the drugs in your IV. You almost don’t even hear your surgeon enter the room. 

“Well, good morning Clara!” he says. “How you feeling?”

You shrug. “As good as I can be” you say with a little grin.

“Good! Now lets go over what we’ll be doing to you today. The lump in your breast is large, but not cancerous, lucky for you. In a few minutes we’ll wheel you in and prep you on the operating table, getting you situated and sedated. You’ll be completely under, and you’ll wake up hardly knowing any time has passed! Nurse Alex here will be in the room helping out, so you’ll have a familiar face. Now let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Nurse Alex reclines your bed so that you lie flat on your back starring up at the ceiling. You feel yourself being moved and try to count the ceiling tiles as you glide underneath. You arrive in the OR, a large round, white room full of medical equipment. You get a glance of the table in the middle of the room, a large round light hanging over it. 

You’re transferred to the table, arms set and secured on rests shaped like a cross. You imagine you look almost crucified. 

Nurse Alex’s face appears over you. “Okay dear we’re just going to slip the gown down now, okay?”

You feel your nipples harden instantly in the cold air and feel them swabbing your skin, sterilizing the incision site. Electrodes are placed all over your chest to monitor your heart. You can hear the monitor begin beeping with your pulse. 

“Alright dear. This mask is going to go over your mouth and nose now, okay? And your gonna want to breathe deeply. Begin counting backwards from 50 if you want.”

With the mask secured, you take a deep breath, feeling instantly woozy and light headed. 

“Just a few more…” Nurse Alex says.

You take another deep breath. And another. And another. 

“She’s down.” says Alex. She removes the mask and places it to the side. “Starting intubation.” 

The tube is secured in your throat and your eyes shut with medical tape. Dr. Skinner approaches your still form, scalpel in hand. He is about to make the primary incision when a noise distracts him. 

“What the hell?” he says. 

It’s the heart monitor. A warning has appeared on screen, your pulse has become fast and unpredictable. 

“We have some pretty severe palpitations and an increased pulse.” says Nurse Alex. 

“Get the crash cart ready and prep the defibrillators to 200j. Let’s get this taken care of quickly!” 

Nurse Alex hands the paddles over to Dr. Skinner, slathering them with conductive gel. Dr. Skinner rubs the paddles together before placing them firmly on your bare chest. 

“It’s ready.” says Alex.

“Alright, everybody stand clear! Delivering shock in three, two, one…”

200j of electricity shoot to your heart. Your body lurches with the shock. On the monitor your pulse reads closer to normal. 

“One more should do it,” says Skinner. “Alex, charge to 250j!”

“Charging.”

“Stand clear. Delivering shock in three, two, one…”

Your back arches off the table, your muscles contracting with great force. You crash back down, breasts jiggling as you do now gleaming with gel. 

Alex reads the monitor. “We have fibrillation. She’s going into arrest.” 

Skinner cursed. “Charge!”

“Charging.”

“CLEAR”

Your chest is lifted from the table by the paddles once more. Your back meets the table to the sound of a flatline. 

“Full arrest, doctor!”

“Alex, begin compressions.”

“Yes sir.”

Nurse Alex positions her fist between your breasts, giving your sternum a hard thump before locking her hands in place and beginning to pump, hard and deep. 

“Come on Clara come back to me,” she mutters. “Come on, breathe, breathe!” 

Your ribs compress as she pumps, your breasts lolling with the movement, nipples still hard. “ONE and TWO and THREE! BREATHE!” Your stomach distends from the sheer force of each compression.  

“Nurse, I’m going to start artificial respiration. Prep the defib to 350j, get ready to shock.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Dr. Skinner connects your tube to an ambu bag and begins pumping oxygen into still lungs. He sees your chest rise and fall with every artificial breath. 

“Ready to shock, doctor.”

“Okay. Everyone stand clear.”

“Clear!”

Alex squeezes the paddles onto your chest and delivers a shock. Your back would have arched even higher if it weren’t for the velcro restraints on your wrists. Though you are still unconscious the electricity forces your eyes partially open despite the medical tape. Your heavy-lidded eyes remain unseeing to the chaos unfolding around you. 

“Still nothing!” cries Nurse Alex. 

“Ditch the paddles and prepare the pads, I have a LUCAS machine coming in that should help.”

Nurse Alex wipes away the excess gel on your chest as the doctor resumes artificial respiration. With the paddles secured, the machine speaks in its robotic voice: “SHOCK ADVISED”

Alex delivers the shock. Nothing. 

The door bursts open and in comes several nurses with a LUCAS machine. They secure it over your chest and turn it on, making sure it’s at the highest setting to deliver the deepest compression and keep your heart pumping.

“Alex, continue rescue breathing.” says Skinner. 

As Nurse Alex pumps the ambu bag, she notices a slight whistle coming from the bad. “Dr. Skinner! There’s a hole in a ambu bag, she’s not getting enough air!” she cried. 

“No time to get a new one, remove the tube, begin mouth-to-mouth!”

Skinner stops the LUCAS and Alex tilts back your head, opening your mouth and pinching your nose. “Come back to us Clara,” she says, covering your mouth with hers and blowing with all her might. 

Much to their relief your chest expands fully with the breath. Dr. Skinner restarts the LUCAS and Nurse Alex continues her rescue breathing. 

Your body lurches on the operating table, the compressions as hard as they could make it. Nurse Alex notices your bare chest, breasts rolling with the pumps, nipples still hard, the remaining gel shining under the operating lamp. Another nurse has her hand on your belly which distends with each compression. The nurse suddenly cries out. 

“Fibrillation! We have fibrillation!”

“Pads charged to 350. Remove the LUCAS and stand clear.”

“CLEAR!”

Electricity jolts through your body once more, piercing your heart and shocking it into a rhythm. 

“She’s stabilizing!” says Dr. Skinner. “Nurse Alex, two more rounds of compressions and rescue breaths while I charge to 200. If this won’t bring her back, she’s as good as gone.”

“Yes doctor.” 

To ensure the best leverage, Alex climbs onto the operating table and puts you between her legs, kneeling over your body. 

“Alright come back to us Clara. Breath for me! One, two, three, four, BREATHE! One, two, three, four, BREATHE!” 

“Everyone stand clear!” says Skinner. “Shocking!”

The medical staff watches your still body on the table. There is no movement, no confirmation of defibrillation. 

“God, it’s malfunctioning!” cried Nurse Alex. 

“Pulse and oxygen levels dropping,” read a nurse from your monitor. “We’re losing her fast, she’s slipping back into arrest. We need those paddles now! 

“Charging paddles to 250!” says Nurse Alex. She applies gel to the paddles, rubbing them together.

“It will be too late by the time it charges!” yells the doctor, who has taken over pumping your chest for Nurse Alex. You bounce on the table with the pumps, pulse growing weaker and blood pressure dropping with each passing second. Another nurse had inserted a new tube into your throat attached to a new ambu bag, providing oxygen after each ten pumps, your chest and belly expanding with air. 

“It’s charged!” Alex yells. “Everyone get out of the way, stand clear!” 

The other staff reluctantly steps away from your body as Nurse Alex slams the paddles onto your chest. 

“Charged to 250! CLEAR!”

The paddles deliver one final shock through your body, arching your back with electricity. You fall back down to the table, eyes barely open and unseeing, your lips open around a tube down your throat, bare chest covered in electrode pads.

Your body lies there on the table as the monitor alerts the doctors to your still heart, flatline traveling along the screen accompanied by the shrill alarms. 

“No pulse, no blood pressure, no oxygen. We lost her.” says a nurse. 

“No.” Nurse Alex says, shaking her head.

“I’m calling time,” says Dr. Skinner. 

“No!” shouts Alex. In her rage she forms a fist, slamming it down onto your sternum in anger. 

Your body quivers and shakes. A gurgling arises from your throat.

“Holy shit.” says a nurse. “We have a pulse! Blood pressure rising! She’s stabilizing!”

Dr. Skinner sprang into action. “Get her back on the ventilator! Resume the anesthetic, sanitize the incision area! We are completing this procedure!”

“Yes, doctor!” says Nurse Alex, teary-eyed from happiness and relief. “Right away!”

You wake up in a recovery room, groggy and hungry, but otherwise okay. 

“See?” says Nurse Alex as she hands you some apple juice. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Yeah, looks like I was worried for nothing again!” you laugh. You thank her for the juice and she waves goodbye. 

“I’m lucky I got her as a nurse,” you think to yourself. “She’s so nice! And what a great job she did keeping me relaxed while I was so anxious.”

You return home, taking a week off work to recover. Your friends stop by with your favorite foods, sometimes staying to watch some Netflix and help you take your meds.” They weren’t lying about how loopy these pain meds make you,” you say one day out loud to your cat. He does nothing but flick his tail from side to side. Yeah. Cats are like that. 

For weeks now, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Everything you do, everywhere you go, you can feel someone’s, or something’s, eyes on you.

Tonight, you got your answer. You wake up in your bed completly paralyzed, unable to move or speak. A tall, dark figure stands over you. Your heart begins to race and you try to scream, but whatever it is won’t let you.

“She’s ready.” says the figure. “Let’s go!”

Four smaller figures enter your bedroom through the door, an intensely bright light shining behind them. They seem to be pushing some sort of gurney.

Your bedsheets are pulled off of you and one of the smaller figures scrambles onto the bed and starts to remove your clothing. All you can do is watch in silent horror as your pajamas and underwear are sliced off and thrown to the side.

Suddenly you levetate up from your mattress and are floated over to the gurney that awaits you. You are dropped down and your arms and legs immediately secured by the smaller figures.

As you are wheeled out of your room and into the light you hear the taller figure say to himself “Yes, what a wonderful experiment this will be!”

You wake up moments later in what apears to be a large operating room. You are surrounded by a seemingly endless amount of medical equipment, all beeping and displaying different readings.

Stuck to your chest are various monitors which seem to display your heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels on a large screen near the ceiling, big enough for even you to see. You feel some sort of oxygen mask stuck to your face.

Around you, several figures busy themselves with equipment, readying it for whatever experiment they were going to subject you to.

One of the taller aliens approaches you, leaning over you so you can see its face.

“Ah, it looks like our guest has woken up again! You’re a quick one to faint, it seems. I might as well explain why you’re here before we get started. You see, as a head scientist, I’ve been very interested recently in your species ideas of resuscitation. Its fascinating, really. Now, our species has evolved far past needing things such as chest compressions and electric shock to save our lives, but I’ve always wanted to see it in action. Obvioisly, I had very few volunteers for this experiment, which is where you come in.”

On the monitor you see your heartrate increase dramatically with fear. The alien saw as well.

“Excited already, are we?” it asked. “So am I! Now, first we will send you into what you call cardiac arrest. Your heart will come to a complete stop and using your primitive resus methods, we wil try to revive you! Ready?”

You try to protest. You try to scream, shout, and cry, but nothing comes out. You smell something foul coming from the mask you’re wearing. Poisonous gas!They’re using a gas to send you into arrest!

You watch helplessly as your pulse gets weaker and weaker on the screen above you. Your vision fades as the flat line of your heartbeat drags across the monitor.

The alien smiles to itself as it watches your chest stop rising and falling, your eyes glazing over. He takes a small recording device out of his pocket and speaks into it. 

 "Phase 1: Chest compressions.“ 

 It watches as the smaller aliens, his assistants, mount a machine over your chest. A pump extends from the machine and the aliens position it between your bare breasts. One takes a chance and pinches your hard nipple in its long fingers. 

 "Activate the machine,” he commands them. 

 The machine whirrs to life and begins to pound deeply and repeatedly into your sternum at a steady pace. Your tits are jiggling with the force of the compressions, belly expanding with each push. 

 "No pulse. Increase speed.“ 

 The pump thrusts faster, forcing blood through your veins, you head rolls limply to the side.

 The alien speaks into its recorder again. "Minute two, still no pulse. I fear that this method alone is ineffective and I have to chage my original plan of reviving the subject each time. We will begin artificial respiration in between compressions." 

 The aliens raise the pump and work a tube into your throat. They squeeze the bag at the end to force the air into your dead lungs, expanding your chest with much needed oxygen.

 Thirty hard compressions. 

 Five artificial breaths. 

 Over and over and over again. 

 "Enough!” Yelled the head alien. “This is getting us nowhere. Prepare the subject for defibrillation." 

 A cold blue gel is massaged onto your chest, making your breasts shine under the harsh light of the operating room. It is also spread on the paddles as they charge to 300j. Alien hands press the paddles firmly on your bare chest. 

 "Clear!" 

 Your back arches off the table as the electricity tears through your body. The head alien watches your monitors as a weak pulse shows up on screen.

“We have fibrillation! Decrease charge to 250j! Secure the subjects’ limbs as well, the sedation will be wearing thin by now.” 

As one of the assistants prepares the paddles, the others secure your arms and legs to the examination table. You are now spread eagle, completely exposed. Before the final shock is delivered, the head alien takes a moment to inspect your body. It gropes your breasts, pinches your still-hard nipples, and even sinks fingers between your folds before penetrating. 

“Hm. The subject appears wet. How curious. Clear from the body, deliver the shock!”

250j hit your heart, shocking it back to normal rhythm. Your body crashes back onto the table after lurching with the electricity. You choke on the tube down your throat, barely noticing the wetness between your legs. Your chest is bruised and even burned in some areas.

Doug pushed up to the surface and gasped for breath. Then he reached up, grabbed the edge of the dock and pulled himself up out of the lake, revealing a set of light-blue swim trunks around his waist. He picked up his towel, dried himself off and headed back to the cabin in his bare feet, shaking his head.

It would be a miracle if it even worked!

He and his wife Renae lived in the cabin during the summer months, just so they could escape the city. It meant commuting farther to work each day than it did from their home in the suburbs, but the peace and quiet more than made up for it, not to mention the fact that they lived right up against the lake… with their very own dock!

They loved playing in the water, especially when it came to sexual bondage games!

Renae had actually come up with the idea herself. She’d casually mentioned how hot it would be if she were to swim down to the bottom of the lake and somehow get entangled in some rope or seaweed, then have Doug come down and take advantage of her in her helpless situation. The thought had aroused him so much that from that day forward he’d made it a personal quest to somehow make that fantasy come true.

If he was lucky, today would be the day… if the damn thing even worked. What threatened to spoil the whole thing was the fact that his wife might have to spring the trap on purpose if it were to have any chance of success. He knew she’d be willing to do it, but he wanted to surprise her, and this was just a one-time shot. Once she knew it was down there, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, although she’d probably love going down there again and again once she discovered what he’d set up!

He entered the cabin, walked into the den and proceeded to write the note. When he was finished he folded it up, walked it to the back door, stepped outside and tucked it into the little pouch that hung from the nail next to the doorjam. That was their special signal, indicating something fun was on the immediate horizon if the spouse returning to the cabin was interested. So far neither one had ever declined when the pouch had been filled.

Doug walked back into the cabin and sat down at his desk in the den. Renae would be coming home from work in the next hour or so and would probably need a good diversion. Fridays were usually pretty hectic around her office and the traffic would be murder driving out to the cabin. The only reason he was there now was because he worked 10-hour shifts and got Fridays off with his weekends. He hoped what he’d written in her note would excite her enough to overcome any potential exhaustion she might feel when she pulled up into the driveway.

He propped his legs up on the desk and began to get aroused just thinking about what would happen in the next hour or so. His wife would come home, read the note, walk out to the dock, strip, dive into the water, swim down to the bottom of the lake, get caught in his trap (that is, if the damn thing worked!), then be forced to hold her breath until he showed up with the scuba tank and fucked her brains out. That should more than make up for any kind of bad day or rotten traffic she might have had to endure. All he had to do now was wait until he heard the sound of her car pull up in the driveway. Then he’d watch her out the front window. When she dove into the lake, that would be his cue to head out the door with the scuba tank.

He suddenly yawned. Maybe he should take a little nap before playtime. After all, hooking everything up had been rather tiring.

He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and nodded off to sleep…

            —–

Renae’d had one helluva day. She’d misfiled some important paperwork early in the morning, resulting in the loss of an important client. Work had rapidly gone downhill from there. When she’d left the office for the weekend with her job barely intact, she’d run into a massive traffic jam because of an overturned semi and had to be rerouted along with the rest of the population… or so it seemed. By the time she’d fought with traffic long enough to navigate out of the city, drive up into the mountains and make it to their four-mile long private road, she’d realized too late that she hadn’t checked the gas gauge. The car was running on fumes. It actually made it another mile up their drive before it coughed and died. She coasted to a stop on the edge of the blacktop, climbed out of the vehicle with nothing but the clothes on her back and her purse in hand, slammed the door in disgust and locked the car.

SHIT! What a day! Might as well walk the rest of the way to the cabin. Doug could bring her back in the morning with a couple gallons of gas, enough to get her out to the main road and reach the nearest service station. She began the long, three-mile walk to the cabin, muttering angrily under her breath, wishing she’d driven to their home in the city and left her husband up here by himself for the weekend…

            —–

The wall clock in the living room quietly chimed the hour, stirring Doug out of his nap. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, rose from his office chair, walked to the back of the cabin and looked out the window.

Nothing but his SUV in the driveway. Renae wasn’t home yet.

“Traffic must’ve been bad,” he told himself. “Hope she’s in the mood to play when she gets here.”

He sighed, went back into the den, sat down in his chair and found that he was still sleepy. The dive down into the lake to set up his trap must have worn him out more than he expected. Oh well. He’d hear the car pull up when she got home.

Doug leaned back in his chair and nodded off again, unable to keep his eyes open…

            —–

Renae was only mildly annoyed when she completed the first mile of her hike, but by the time the cabin came into view, forty-five minutes had gone by and she was madder than a wet hen. She angrily walked up to the back door and was reaching for the knob when she caught sight of the note sticking out of the pouch.

She froze, indecision filling her face. A part of her wanted to grab the folded piece of paper and throw it in her husband’s face just because she wanted someone to be angry with, but curiousity got the better of her. She carefully pulled it out and read the contents…

Walk to the end of the dock, strip out of all your clothes and dive into the water.

You’ll find something interesting waiting for you at the bottom of the lake.

What the hell was at the bottom of the lake?! He wanted her naked, that was for sure! That meant it had to be something sexual!

For a moment she thought about going in and ripping the note to shreds right in front of him, just to let him know what kind of day she’d had. Then she thought about diving nude into that cool water, feeling it caress her skin and tickle her clit. When she thought about her husband diving down to meet her with some wicked scheme in mind, her breath caught in her throat, despite her anger over the day’s events. When she felt a faint flicker of arousal emanate from her pussy she knew she had to go through with it, just to see what was gonna happen.

She walked around the cabin and headed for the dock, feeling the excitement build within her. Just jumping into the water was gonna feel good. Whatever Doug had in mind was probably gonna feel even better.

She walked out onto the wooden structure and proceeded to strip out of her office attire. When her bra and panties fell to her feet and the light breeze caressed her nipples, she unexpectedly found herself trembling with excitement, the events of the day all but forgotten. She walked to the end of the dock, breathing deeply in anticipation of her dive. She didn’t know how long he was gonna keep her under so she wanted to fill her lungs before she jumped in. No doubt, he was watching her from some hidden vantage point.

She took one last, deep breath, grabbed her nose and stepped off the dock with a quiet splash…

            —–

Doug suddenly sat up in his chair wide awaken, his senses alert.

What was that?!

He listened intently but he didn’t hear anything. He rose up from his office chair, made his way to the back of the cabin and looked out the window.

No car. No Renae.

“Damn! I hope she didn’t get into an accident! I know traffic’s bad, but she’s usually here by now.”

He walked back into the den, sat in his chair and stared uncomfortably at the clock on his desk…

            —–

Renae felt the cool water embrace her, instantly refreshing her. Her nipples literally popped out of her breasts and her clit swelled, arousing her even more. She released her nose and pulled for the bottom of the lake with both arms, trickling air bubbles through her nostrils. When she got closer to the mud she thought she saw indentations in the silty soil near one of the wooden supports. Upon closer inspection she saw it was a single set of footprints, pointing toward the dock.

Interesting.

She used her hands to turn herself in the water until she was upright. Out of curiosity, she moved herself down and placed her feet into the prints. She saw that whoever made them had bigger feet than she did. Probably her husband.

When she was standing in the mud she allowed herself to gaze in the direction her body was pointed toward. Instantly she caught sight of the chain attached to the dock support, hanging right in front of her. It looked like the one you pulled to turn on the bare bulb up in the attic. What was it doing down here? she wondered.

She reached out and gave it a gentle tug…

            —–

On a hunch, Doug picked up the phone and dialed his wife’s office. When he got the automated system he hung up. Getting the recording meant no one was in the building. Whatever reason Renae was late, it wasn’t because she had to work overtime. He sighed heavily and sat back in his chair.

It was either a major accident on the highway, or everyone and their grandmother was coming up into the mountains for the weekend…

            —–

Renae felt movement at her feet. For a frightening moment she thought she’d been attacked by a snake as something wrapped around her ankles and pulled them together, the soil churning beneath her. Then she was jerked off her feet and pulled through the water until she came to an abrupt halt up against the large anchor her husband had placed there months ago, several feet away from the dock. It was something they used to tie each other up to whenever they played bondage games in the lake. Somehow she managed not to inhale. Her heart beat wildly as her eyes snapped open in astonishment.

WHAT THE HELL…??!!

She tried to kick with her feet and found she couldn’t. Something had wrapped tightly around both of them, making it impossible to even take a step without toppling forward. She looked down at her feet and saw a thin black chord wrapped tightly around her ankles. It reminded her of that stuff Tom Cruise hung from the ceiling with in that ‘Mission Impossible’ movie. It had been strong enough to support his body weight so she suspicioned she probably wouldn’t be able to break out of it. She traced it’s path with her eyes, following it as it looped through the anchor then headed back to the dock, only to disappear into the shadows.

She felt a sudden thrill of fear shiver through her, quickly followed by a burst of sexual excitement. Wow! He’d actually made that fantasy she’d suggested a while ago come true! She was tied up by her ankles on the bottom of the lake, completely helpless, awaiting whatever fate was in store for her.

Well… maybe she wasn’t COMPLETELY helpless. She figured she could probably get out of the chord around her ankles, but she suddenly realized she didn’t want to! In a matter of moments she transported herself from the real world of office mistakes and traffic snarls to an imaginary world where the mob had discovered her intent to turn over secrets to the FBI, only to weigh her down and dump her nude body into the lake. It was only a matter of time before she drowned!

A fantasy come true!

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest and a small burst of air blurped out of her mouth. As the discomfort in her lungs grew, she looked up toward the dock, expecting Doug to jump into the water any minute now, although she kinda hoped he wouldn’t… at least, not yet anyway. She wanted to experience that thrilling terror of knowing she was about to drown… the traitorous secretary, caught by the mob and sentenced to die all alone in the lake!

The area between her legs roared to life with a pleasurable tingle, a sure sign of things to cum…!

            —–

Doug stood up and began to pace back and forth. He was probably worrying for nothing, but it did seem awfully late for her to be coming out to the cabin at this hour. She shoulda been here by now. Maybe she’d driven to the house in the 'burbs to pick up a few things for the weekend…

            —–

Renae felt that familiar burn in her lungs and decided to try and prolong her breathholding. A hand slithered down her crotch and she began rubbing her clit, fanning the flames of desire that were burning inside her. She burbled delightedly, momentarily distracting herself from the tightness in her chest.

She fondled and caressed herself as she imagined the last few moments of her life on the surface… imagined how rough the hitman had treated her while undressing her and attaching the weight to her ankles… imagined the evil smirk on the guy’s face as he told her she was 'gonna sleep with the fishes’… imagined her cry of alarm as he tossed her and the weight off the dock. Her free hand drifted up to her breasts where she rubbed them hard, pinching her nipples and adding to her excitement. She struggled with her feet, trying to escape the chord wrapped tightly around her ankles, imagining that it was a useless gesture. The 'hitman’ had secured her too tightly.

She’d never told her husband about her secret desire to drown. Had he guessed it? Had she laid out enough hints that he’d finally figured it out? Or was he gonna wait until she was right on the brink before he came down and gave her air? Maybe he was somewhere nearby, watching her pleasure herself, waiting for just the right moment!

It didn’t matter… she’d gladly take either scenario right now! The excitement within her rose to a fever pitch, even as her chest spasmed, demanding that she refill her aching lungs. Air blurped out of her, signaling she was nearing the limits of her endurance.

If she was gonna do it, now was the time!

She rubbed her clit once more, then plunged two fingers into her dripping pussy and started thrusting hard and fast. A convulsion shook her chest, forcing another burst of air past her lips. She tipped her head back, arched her back and closed her eyes as the orgasm rushed toward her from somewhere deep inside…

“What are you gonna do to me?” she imagined herself asking the mob hitman in fear as he tied the weights to her ankles. “I’m gonna drown your sorry ass!” he replied in her mind…

Tossed into the cool lake water… never being allowed to taste fresh air again…

The images in her mind were enough to help send her over the edge. Every muscle stiffened. Then she started to thrash about as the orgasm slammed into her. She cried out, sending a froth of bubbles scurrying to the surface…

            —–

Doug wandered to the front door and looked out the window. He thought he saw clothes lying on the dock and his eyes opened in surprise.

His first inclination was to think someone was skinny-dipping on their private property. After all, Renae wasn’t home yet. He hadn’t heard her pull up.

Or had he missed her?

He strode through the cabin to the back door, opened it and looked out. His wife’s car was nowhere to be seen.

On impulse he checked the pouch.

The note was gone…!

            —–

Renae bucked and thrashed about as her body was ravaged by the orgasm that washed through her. It finally passed, leaving her breathless and exhausted. Then a massive convulsion shook her chest, insisting that she inhale. Her eyes went wide in horror.

Gotta get to the surface!

She pulled with her arms and tried to kick upward but the chord around her ankles held her fast. Panicked, she bent down and clawed at it in a frantic attempt to create some slack so she could get free, scratching herself in several places in the process. She felt another spasm rumble through her chest, causing her to yank on the chord in desperation.

It was too tight. There was something heavy on the other end that maintained a constant tension on the rope, preventing her from slipping free. She tried kicking out of it, but the chord remained firmly in place; it even cut into her flesh. Another convulsion hit her hard, causing her to lose most of her breath in a large burst. She clamped a hand over her mouth and tried to kick herself free, but her legs were pinned together by the loop around her ankles and she squirmed feebly. The last of her air burbled away through her fingers. Then, unable to hold off any longer, she inhaled…

Shock filled her face as she instinctively coughed, trying to expel the water out of her lungs. She took another breath, inhaling more lake water. Instantly she abandoned the chord around her ankles and involuntarily started pulling like crazy for the surface with her arms, frantic to get to the air above her. She spasmed painfully, causing her 36C’s to bounce erotically as she struggled to get to the surface. Her head shook back and forth in pain as fatigue settled in, rapidly weakening her. She flailed uselessly until her struggles diminished.

Renae’s chest convulsions forced little blips and blurps of air out of her lungs. She kicked and flailed intermittently as her head tipped back. Her mouth opened and closed like some fish, attempting to swallow oxygen.

The pain eased briefly and she had clarity of thought. She knew Doug was somewhere nearby, watching her drown. She wondered how turned on he’d be at seeing her nude body spasm for him. He was probably gonna wait until she stopped moving before pulling her up to the surface and reviving her.

How thoughtful of him to allow her to experience her greatest fantasy! The thought gave her a sense of peace, causing the muscles in her face to relax.

She jerked, shuddered briefly, then went limp. The life flicked out of her eyes and a couple of stray blips of air slipped out of her open mouth. She hung in the water, her feet held up against the anchor by the chord wrapped around her ankles. Her arms hung loose at her sides, her nipples hard as pencil erasers. She looked up with vacant eyes at the air that was oh, so far away. She never felt the second orgasm that flushed warmly through her body…

            —–

Doug shot out the back door, circled around the house and made a beeline for the dock at a dead run. As he approached, he recognized the clothes as being the ones his wife wore at the office. As he thumped along the dock he caught sight of the note, tucked underneath a shoe.

His heart leaped into his throat. He sucked in a huge breath and dove off the side with a splash, heading straight for the anchor they used in their underwater sex play.

Renae’s nude body hung there before him, attached to the anchor by the chord wrapped around her ankles. She wasn’t moving. There was a strange look of peace on her face. The sight would have been highly erotic if he hadn’t been so terrified.

He reached down and struggled to pull her feet out of the loop that wound tightly around her ankles. He noticed the little scratches and claw marks from her attempts to free herself. There was no time to reason when she’d arrived or why the car wasn’t in the driveway. He had to get her out now! Answers would come later.

It took him longer than he wanted it to, probably because the counter weights he’d attached to the other end of the chord were maintaining the tension, making it hard to free her feet. He’d just managed to force one foot out of the loop of chord when he felt a spasm in his chest. He was gonna need air soon.

'NO!’ his mind yelled at him. 'You’re NOT going back up without Renae!’

He worked frantically to pull her other foot free. It finally came out, causing the coil of chord to whiz freely across the bottom of the lake toward the dock, kicking up silt. Doug grabbed his wife, flopped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and pulled hard for the surface, kicking furiously.

He booshed up out of the water, gasped wildly, then proceeded to push the body of his wife up onto the dock. He got her out onto her face and chest as her legs dangled. Then he pulled himself up out of the water next to her, grabbed her arms, drug her up onto the dock and turned her over. She wasn’t breathing and her face had become quite pale. A quick check revealed no pulse.

He bent down over her, tipped her head to one side to drain the water out of her mouth, pinched her nose shut, sealed his lips to hers and blew two deep breaths into her lungs, causing her chest to rise and fall.

No response.

He placed his hands just below her breasts and started pumping furiously. When he was done he went back to her face, pinched her nose shut and blew two more deep breaths into her body.

Nothing. A quick check told him there was still no pulse.

He placed his hands on her body and started pumping again, praying he wasn’t already too late… praying she hadn’t been under too long. Then he locked lips with hers and blew once… and again. Her chest rose and fell, but otherwise there was no response.

“C'mon, babe - you gotta breathe for me!” he said in quiet desperation as he started pumping again. “Don’t leave me, Renae!” Then he blew two more deep breaths into her and waited expectantly.

She didn’t move.

Doug started pumping on her body again as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. He felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him, as though this was some horrible dream.

“C'mon, Renae!” he exclaimed before he blew a deep breath into her lungs. “You gotta breathe, dammit!” He blew a second breath into her and paused dramatically.

No response. She just looked up into the sky with those lifeless eyes.

“C'MON, DAMN YOU! LIVE!” he screamed as he started pumping on her chest again. “I DON’T WANNA LIVE WITHOUT YOU!” He moved over her, locked lips once again and blew two deep breaths into her lungs.

No response… no pulse.

“C'mon, babe! Daddy’s getting tired! Gimme a breath, Renae!” he pleaded as he pumped her chest again. When there was no response he blew two lungfuls of air, once again causing her chest to rise up and down.

Nothing! Tears started trickling down his cheeks as he started pumping again. “LIVE, DAMN YOU!” he screamed at her. “BREATHE, GAWD-DAMMIT!” He desperately locked lips with her and blew two more deep breaths into her lungs.

Renae stared lifelessly up at the sky.

“DON’T YOU LOOK UP AT ME LIKE THAT!” Doug screamed in helpless frustration. “BREATHE, DAMN YOU!” Without thinking, he slapped her face angrily.

He gasped in shock at what he’d just done…

Ohmigod… I just slapped my wife!

He’d never hit her before, never pushed her or even abused her…

“I’M SORRY, BABE!” he wailed in sorrow. “I DIDN’T MEAN…!”

Renae suddenly blinked her eyes!

“Renae?! …RENAE???!!!”

She blinked again as her chest convulsed. A lungful of water burbled up out of her mouth. Then she gurgled… and GASPED!

Doug froze as hope swelled within him!

More water burbled up out of her mouth. She gasped… coughed… gasped again… starting coughing violently.

Instantly her husband lifted her up into a sitting position and embraced her as she coughed up water and phlegm. Then she began breathing stronger.

Tears of joy poured out of Doug’s eyes as his wife wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, babe… I thought I’d lost you!” he cried.

What she said next suprised the hell out of him…

“I knew you’d come down for me, honey!” she gasped. “That was absolutely fantastic!” She paused, then…

“Are you ready yet? It’s getting colder outside!” called Ray. Bella came out of the couple’s room on the second floor of their home. She was tall, had a slim, medium build, and d cup breasts. Her long, curly, blonde hair ran down her shoulders and back, her neck and shoulder tattoos peeking through the golden waves. Her black fleece leggings clung to her pronounced legs, she had furry winter boots, and was putting on a thin black parka, as it encompassed her slim frame. “Just one second, love. I’m just getting some last minute things.” Bella called down in reply. They were both in their early twenties, Ray stood in the foyer. He was 6’, had straight, sleeked-back, black hair. He had a stocky build, a black trench coat draped over his large physique. The couple was going on their first big trip together, a 600 mile trek across the country. It was 05:00 and they were getting ready to head out. Bella came running down the stairs with their last bag. “All ready!” she said, with a smile.

They headed off on their getaway, it was a long and cold drive, but the scenery made up for it tenfold. They drove through snowy woods, open whitened plains, and a monolithic valley. The couple laughed and joked throughout the trip, growing an even closer bond, truly admiring all they were experiencing. “I think I’m gonna nap for a few, is that okay?” asked Bella. Ray smiled and brushed her cheek, “By all means, sweetheart.” he said in reply. Bella gave a warm smile and reclined her chair back. As she fell asleep, Ray brushed her cheek once more, feeling her soft, pale white skin against his fingers. Her red beanie slouched on the back of her head and her curled blonde hair moved with the motions of the vehicle.

Ray looked up just as a deer had jumped into the road, he slammed the breaks down in a panic and the car swerved. Veering left and right, tires screeching and burning their treads, he missed the confused animal by millimeters and the car slammed into a boulder off the right side of the road. The air bags ejected as both slammed into them. Bella was launched forward from laying on her back, and her chest met the airbags as they deployed. Both lay silent, ears ringing, the smell of burnt rubber laden the cold winter air. They held each other, shaking, adrenaline pumping through their veins. “A-are you okay?” Ray stuttered as he asked. “I think I’m okay.” said Bella, still quivering. A bus following behind had witnessed the entire ordeal, and the driver was already only feet from the car. “You two okay? That looked pretty bad, good thing you all didn’t roll over.” the driver said to the couple. “I think we’re more shaken up than anything, the car took the brunt of the force” said Ray as he looked out his broken window, Bella smiled at the man as she rubbed her sternum. “If you two don’t need an ambulance, then I’d be happy to take you to the next town over so you can settle this and get some rest?“ the driver offered. “I don’t think we’ll need any medical attention, that’s very kind of you, we can’t thank you enough” Bella said to the driver with a hopeful smile. The couple got out of the vehicle slightly stiff and a tad bit sore, and the driver helped with their bags.

  The next town was only 20 miles down the road, it was a pretty big city in the middle of southern Colorado. The driver dropped them off at a hotel and wished them luck. It was around 19:30 and the couple was in their hotel room. Stressed from a long day, and sore from the accident, they finally took the opportunity to rest. They were staying on the third floor of one of the nicer hotels in the city, there were a few residents but not too many. Snow was still falling from the skies as the city was draped in ice. Ray and Bella lay together on the bed, still shaken up slightly. “Are you sure you’re alright? You hit pretty hard earlier.” Ray asked Bella, slightly concerned. “I think I’ll be alright, I just have a little bit of soreness in my chest but I think I’ll be okay. And you?” Bella replied. “I think I’ll be okay, the airbag rammed my arm against the window but I don’t think I broke or hurt anything, I’m just happy we’re alright.” he said as he kissed her head. The couple fell asleep in a tight embrace, the room lay silent with the hum of the heater in the background.

  Ray was awoken suddenly to hear Bella gasping, she was clinching his shirt as she lay tense. He got up immediately and held her face. “What’s wrong sweetie?” he plead as her piercing blue eyes opened and rolled around, still gasping for air. Ray panicked, but remembered what he was thought in his first aid class. He put her on her back and tilted her head up, she was still gasping and hyperventilating. Her eyes glazing over and rolling towards the back of her head. He pinched her nose, opened her mouth and started to breathe for her. Her arms and legs writhed around, slowly fading. Her breathing didn’t improve any, he felt for a carotid pulse but it was incredibly weak and very irregular. He pulled her sweater up and saw a large red circle on her chest where the airbag had hit. He put his ear to her chest in a panic, “lub…..dub dub….dub….lub-dub lub-dub-dub” her heart pounded his ears, it was erratic and fading fast. He ran outside into the hallway, remembering an AED was sitting on the wall outside the elevators. He pulled her to the floor, her flowing blonde hair trailed behind and her light gray sweater was still raised up. He pulled her sweater off, revealing her soft and smooth belly. Her chest had a few tattoos and she had one sleeve. He unhooked her bra and took it off, revealing her ample but delicate chest, rising and falling with every last agonal gasp. He gave her a few more breaths as he started to prep the AED. He put the pads on her chest, and plugged the leads into the machine.

“Analyzing heart rhythm….everyone stand clear” the machine ordered. Ray noticed Bella take her last breath, “no no no!” he pleaded as tears started to fill his eyes. “ Shock not advised, start 5 cycles of CPR” the machine announced. He felt for a pulse but felt nothing, Bella’s eyes lay open, staring upwards, shimmering blue. He placed his hand on the center of her chest, her soft young breasts to each side of his hands. He started as the machine beeped with its timer. “One… Two… Three…” Ray counted as he compressed the girl’s chest. Her arms lay spread out, her belly pushed out slightly with every compression and her head bobbed slightly. She stared lifeless, towards the ceiling as her lover tried desperately to restart her heart. He gave two rescue breaths when the time came, “come on baby, please breathe for me” he said, worried but trying to focus. Air filled her lungs as their lips embraced, her chest rose and fell with the tide of his breaths. Immediately he placed his hands back on her sternum, and started massaging the lifeless girl’s heart one again. Her light pink nipples hardened as his finger pressed into the left one, her breasts being shaken by each compression. Her entire frame shook as he pressed on her heart. Finally his rounds finished and gave his last two breaths. She exhaled the second breath aloud as the AED read her heart rate once again. “Analyzing heart rhythm, everyone stand clear” …..It felt like an eternity as Ray stood by, anxiously reading over his lover’s sprawled out body.  Suddenly he was cut off by the machine beeping aloud, “shock advised, charging….everyone stand clear, press the shock button” Ray put his finger on the button and looked to Bella, her lips blue as her skin a pale white. He pressed the button and 200 joules ran through the young girl’s heart. Her back arched up, her belly forming a tight slope, her hip bones were pronounced even more, until her body fell back to the floor. Her breasts jumped up as she returned to the ground. The machine analyzed her heart once more and called for another shock. It charged and Ray stared at her again with anticipation, her eyes still open, her hair strung out across the floor, her smooth belly and soft round breasts seemed enticing in a way. He hit the shock button again and her body jolted once more, her back arching higher than it had before, her arms buckled back. Her breasts jumped up with even more ferocity. “Shock not advised, begin 5 cycles of CPR” the machine said aloud once more.