#human trophy

Ellie became a cardiologist with the desire to protect and care for vulnerable life. Throughout her life, she had a hero complex, an intense desire to shield the fragile, the helpless, the downtrodden. She read countless stories of damsels in distress and imagined herself the knight in shining armor. However, her fantasies were much different... darker, not the hero, but the villain. She hoped to be a heart surgeon, but her desired profession was obsolete. Surely it was an amazing thing, highly successful doctorless organ transplants... but for Ellie, this left her without a place in the world. There were no knights, and now no heart surgeons. People no longer needed saving, she thought. Longing for purpose, Ellie became a temporal explorer, and with countless tales and fantasies in her mind, she took a one-way trip to the savage lands of a war-torn timeline. landing herself smack in the middle of a medieval Nordic civilization.

A stark contrast to her futuristic, technological world. It was a time defined by relentless war, brutal violence, and no place for the frail. Standing amidst the icy landscapes and hardened warriors, Ellie's dark skin and voluminous hair made her a beacon of otherworldly charm, a symbol of exotic mysticism from foreign lands that had not yet been witnessed by these people.

The king, intrigued by her unique appearance and captivated by her advanced medical knowledge, spared her the typical fate of an outsider. They sensed an opportunity in Ellie's keen intellect and apparent strangeness, a utility that could serve their cause well. Yet she didn't ask for a comfortable position within the castle. Ellie asked for something different. Her desires outshined what was believed to be common sense. Her wish granted, Ellie found herself granted a position many loathed, yet she coveted – a captain of the guard. The final word on strategy in the battlefield.

Despite her lack of allegiance to the kingdom, she relished the role that offered an intoxicating cocktail of power and intrigue. Her knowledge of human anatomy, blended with her understanding of martial arts, rendered her an indomitable warrior on the battlefield, effortlessly thwarting the many adversaries that dared to challenge her. Despite her desires to be the hero, she found the most thrill in being the warrior. the ender of heroes and villains alike, what she was... it was hard to tell.

Ellie wasn't moved by battle, what she wanted was power. A sense of control over life and death that she had never felt in her time. The more she acted on her whims, the more she felt that maybe her desires were sick, depraved... selfish. However, there was no going back. From now on, she would fulfill her deepest desires. Her weapon of choice was a large war hammer. A tool of blunt heavy destruction, she felt like this was the best way to exert force while giving her control over how it was applied.

Ellie thought back to the tales of delicate, fair-skinned women being hoisted upon the white horse of their saviors. The desire to live that fantasy was all she could think of, and now she had the position to do it... or some strange version of that.

Ellie wasn't able to ride into the sunset like in the stories, but beggars cant be choosers, and in this world, the desperation of savage war brought everyone to the battlefield at times, and slaughter was blind to beauty. Frailty met quick ends. Not for Ellie though. This was her moment - a crude, perverse twist on her romance fantasies. There was no romance, only salvation in the blood-soaked ground. The savagery of war a canvas where she could paint her unique narrative. Her gaze, wielded like a precision tool, was constantly scanning, evaluating, searching. Among the hordes of battle-hardened soldiers like a depraved beast. Some day, Ellie's eyes quickly fell upon a woman – blonde, fierce, yet possessing a delicate grace. Her pale visage a vibrant beacon. The woman was like a strikingly vivid palette amidst the monochrome of warriors, an unexpected anomaly in a battlefield bereft of grace.

Ellie became the self-appointed guardian of this precious gem, determined to protect her from the clutches of her own bloodthirsty squad which had a hunger for easy pickings. The sight of this radiant woman made her heartbeat race, not with bloodlust but with a deep, undeniable fascination. It was as if the chaotic battlefield had morphed into an exhilarating treasure hunt, the treasure being these living, breathing, beautiful Nordic women. Ellie's intentions were clearer to her than ever - to salvage these creatures from the cruel jaws of war, and to preserve their splendor for herself. Ellie could see the perversion of her instincts in full display, but the desire was so great, she couldn't stop herself. The battlefield, a dreaded arena of death, had now become her playground, a hunting ground to satiate her unorthodox desires. The rush of adrenaline in her veins was palpable as she locked eyes with the blonde beauty.

She was yet another savage on the battlefield, but with the precision of a surgeon. Even as a predator, surely her prey would at least be grateful for a better outcome than death, she thought. As they engaged, the woman's sword was fast, though Ellie herself was graceful, and predicting. She studied this game of war like chess and became a grand master. Ellie struck at the perfect moment, sweeping the blonde's feet from beneath her, casting her to the earth.

She then kicked away the sword, leaving the woman defenseless and bewildered on the rough battlefield floor. The sight of this exquisite creature, rendered vulnerable amidst the grit and grime, filled Ellie with an unprecedented sense of desire. Every exasperated breath filling this magnificent form lit up Ellie's senses. It was nothing like her fantasies... it was better. The battlefield had always been a stage for displaying might, but for Ellie, this was a new, intoxicating form of dominance.

With her adrenaline surging, Ellie approached the woman cautiously, the woman's chest heaving vividly beneath her. The blonde was defeated, awaiting the cruel and merciless strike of the heavy mallet, but defiant. To the look of confusion in those blue eyes, Ellie gingerly placed the head of her war hammer over the woman's billowing chest. She stood there in awe, feeling the rapid pulse of delicate life through the handle. As she pressed down harder, the woman's heartbeat became more vivid, then stuttered, a defiant drumroll against the encroaching steel.

Ellie reveled in the sensation. The strength of this woman's heart, its indomitable vitality, was now at her mercy. It was a testament to the woman's vibrant life, yet it was helpless under Ellie's power. The heart struggled and strained under the oppressive weight, succumbing slowly to the inexorable pressure.

Ellie observed the woman's battle for breath, her struggle against the metal, with an admiration tinged with disbelief. This was her treasure, her trophy of war, and she found herself enchanted by the rawness of this spectacle. Even as the woman's vigor ebbed away, her confusion turning to exhaustion, Ellie was in awe at the fight she put up. Her eyes, once fierce, now pleading and confused, fluttered close as unconsciousness claimed her. Finally, Ellie lifted her weapon.

As the woman lie there unconscious, the feeling of her heart's struggle was vivid in Ellie's mind. She straddled the woman and listened in. Its beats were soft and slow but recovering.

A surge of satisfaction rippled through Ellie at the sight of her captured prize, this fair-skinned angel now her responsibility. She had now to protect her trophy from the inevitable spoils of war, a task she accepted with a curious blend of anticipation and determination. This was her battlefield, and she had just taken her first treasure... alive. Ellie, carrying her new trophy, departed from the blood-soaked battlefield towards her home in the kingdom. Usually, a mere shelter from the harsh Nordic weather. With a blend of anticipation and caution, she bound the woman's wrists and ankles together, taking care not to make it too tight.

She gently lowered the woman onto the bed, her taut form a stark contrast against the rough-hewn linens. Ellie then lied down beside her, enveloping the unconscious woman in a tender hold to warm her. The role she played shifted between pet, trophy, and love at Ellie's whims. Her head found a resting place on the woman's chest, and as Ellie closed her eyes, she was serenaded by the rhythmic lullaby of the woman's recovering heartbeat.

With every beat that echoed against her ear, Ellie found herself more and more captivated by the living, breathing prize she had claimed. Her fingers tentatively ventured across the woman's body, exploring the gentle curve of her waist, the softness of her relaxed belly. She traced the delicate blue streaks beneath the woman's pale skin - the veins that carried life and vitality within this ethereal creature.

Ellie marveled at her fortune, her chest swelling with a sense of triumph and disbelief. She had taken her first victory, and claimed s supple, delicate, breathing trophy with a heartbeat as her spoils of war.

Hours of relentless fighting passed, and just when the day seemed to blend into an endless symphony of clash and carnage, her heart missed a beat. Across the battlefield, a figure caught her eye. A woman, her fiery red hair a stark contrast against the cold gray stone of the castle walls, was attempting to scale the fortress. An assassin, perhaps, intent on a covert mission.

Ellie, her instincts on high alert, dashed towards the woman, her swift feet carrying her like a shadow. Before the woman could notice her, Ellie had her locked in a powerful chokehold. Her desperation was powerful, but her delicate form could hardly leverage resistance. The woman’s chest heaved with an urgency that was both distressing and captivating. Ellie felt the woman’s body writhe in her iron grip, each muscle straining against her hold in a desperate bid for freedom. A twisted thrill filled Ellie's veins. As she grabbed the woman tightly and dropped to her knees, she took in the feeling of this vibrant life in her grasp. The woman's chest billowed against her grip. Her core felt lively yet delicate and soft contrast to the modest tone of her arms and legs. Her skin was pale as the snow, barely hiding the delicate blue streaks just beneath the surface. Her chest, lightly dusted with a smattering of freckles, began to express her body's limits. It rose and fell in an erratic rhythm, each rise a plea for air, each slowing fall a testament to her fading strength. Her swollen pink face contorted in agony as drool ran down either side of her cheeks onto Ellie's arm.

The assassin's heart pounded like a wild beast against the bars of its cage. It was a powerful, frantic rhythm that reverberated throughout the woman's torso, a raw, primal drumline that became more vivid as her lungs calmed down. Its ferocious beating echoed the woman's will to survive and called Ellie's hand to her sternum. Ellie could feel the desperation, the determination, the unyielding spirit that resided within the fragile form of the woman and nothing excited her more.

However, as the woman's strength waned and her arms and legs fell limp to her side, the heart as well, once punching away at her palm in protest, gradually settled into a slow and inconsistent beat. With one final desperate gasp, the woman's fight for survival came to a close. The woman lay still and silent, the only sounds coming from her a shallow labored breath. Ellie scooped the unconscious woman into her arms and carried her back to her home. Once they were inside, she carefully placed the redhead onto the bed, taking a moment to appreciate her new prize's radiant beauty. There was something enchanting about her, a wild, untamed fire that burned bright even in her unconscious state. Ellie straddled the unconscious woman, her own heart pounding with anticipation as she ran fingers through her hair and explored her like a prize, a trophy of this senseless war. ...

There was little to stop Ellie, who knew that to the world around her, she had nothing but an enemy, less a human than a sack of meat. Still, she was lost in her admiration. Her fingers coveted the soft curves of the redhead's delicate form while her vitals became stronger and more stable by the second. The woman's eyes fluttered open. Lost in the moment, Ellie was taken by surprise. She watched and felt every second of this recovery, but she hadn't planned for what to do. "no-no, not yet, sweetie." Ellie said softly. Her words an angel's hymn, but her intentions a cruel exercise of power. Before the woman had a chance to gather her bearings, Ellie’s hand was around her throat. The woman's eyes widened with terror, that vibrance Ellie felt sitting in the dirt, it was back and more beautiful than ever. Ellie reveled in the control she wielded.

Ellie rested a hand on the redhead's chest, both to support herself and feel the turmoil within. The woman's heart beat erratically under the stress, her hands wrapping around Ellie's arm but to no avail. The strong and steady thump turned into a frantic scramble as her weakened body was consumed by panic. Ellie was keenly aware of the woman's fragile state as a doctor, yet she couldn't help but savor the rush of depraved bliss.

Suddenly, the frantic beat under Ellie's hand stilled, replaced by an unsettling silence. Panic seized her as she realized the woman’s heart had gone into failure.

Ellie's medical training kicked in. She began chest compressions. "Stay with me," she muttered to the still-conscious woman who struggled for breath even with her neck free of pressure.

As Ellie's hands pressed down into the woman's chest, she savored the sensation of the woman's taut and petite frame yielding beneath her weight, her sternum creaking slightly under the pressure, the softness of her bosom cushioning her exertion. The woman's heart beneath her palm, quickly started pumping weakly but determinedly... but Ellie didn't stop. The excitement filled her mind, it made her heart pound. Instead, she continued, fueled by a strange exhilaration. The poor muscle squirmed in a dysrhythmic paralysis under Ellie's command, each sporadic pump an echo of the rhythm she dictated. It was a testament to her will over the beautiful redhead's pallid little chest and the struggling vitality within.

The woman's feeble hands could barely rise in protest; ineffective against Ellie's relentless thrusts into her core. Each pump of her hands, each rebound of the woman's delicate ribs it only reinforced her dominance.

The woman's heart finally gave up, and ceased to beat on its own, the rhythm now entirely dictated by Ellie's hands. It was as if the woman had given in completely, surrendering her very life force to Ellie's whims. Her arms dropped and her eyes glazed over as if in the twilight of consciousness,

With every thrust, Ellie could see the blood coursing through the woman's veins, making them bulge against her neck. the plump little organ responding only to her command. It was a heady sensation - one that sent shivers down Ellie's spine. ---

The redhead's eyes fluttered open to the dim light that filled the room. She winced as a dull throb pulsed through her chest. Looking down across her naked form, she saw the telltale signs of bruising marring her once pristine skin, a deep purple testament to the ordeal she had been put through by the sadistic castle guard. Ellie's touch was indelibly etched into her flesh, a reminder of the terrifying hunger the woman wielded.

Her heart pounded erratically and sharply against her bruised sternum; each beat a reminder of what happened. The woman had played her heart like a musical instrument.

She tried to move, to rise, to escape. But the cold, unforgiving shackles bit into her bare skin, confining her wrists and ankles to the bed. She was trapped, helpless, a prisoner to the whims of her captor.

With practiced efficiency, she placed the defibrillator pads on the woman's chest, one above the right breast and the other to the left of the rib cage, ensuring a clear path for the shock to the heart. She turned on the machine and waited for the charge to build.

As it was ready, Ellie hit the 'shock' button. The woman's body jolted. Her heart, however, remained stubbornly silent. Ellie didn't relent. She shifted, straddling the woman's waist, and interlocked her fingers, ready to perform chest compressions. With her palms positioned on the center of the chest, she pressed down hard and fast, forcing the heart to mimic what once was its natural rhythm. She could feel her sternum straining under the pressure of Ellie's desire to save her, or maybe it was greed... a selfish desire to take back that which she used up and let go. These days, Ellie knew better than to trust her sense of morality.

One, two, three... Her count was steady and forceful, a reminder to the lifeless heart of its duty. Between every series of compressions, she would sit back and hit the shock button again. The jerking of her body that followed was much like a gasping fish out of water.

Ellie's muscles strained with the effort, the sweat trickling down her chin, like a tyrant taking her frustrations out on a dying peasant she persisted. Finally, another shock.

And then... she heard it. A confirmation from the device that there was no need to shock. She put the stethoscope's earpieces in, the bell to the redhead's chest. It was faint, barely a whisper amidst the heavy silence, but it was there. A solitary thud, then another, growing in strength, forming the sweet rhythm of life. The woman's chest sporadically rose and fell beneath Ellie's hand. The sight was nothing short of a miracle.

Ellie let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The woman's heart was beating once more, frail and steady. Ellie dismounted her and sat to the side. She took a moment to take the woman in.