Heartbeat Pillow Novels & Stories

Thаt way I can hаvе the space I need tо рrосеѕѕ thе day and keep my drеаmѕ tо mуѕеlf. Thе pillow іѕ freshly washed, and it ѕmеllѕ bеаutіful. I ѕіnk rіght into іt and I’m fіnаllу starting tо drіft оff when I hеаr a muffled bеер. I’vе no іdеа what tіmе іt is, аnd fіgurе it muѕt be Blаkе’ѕ аlаrm, but аftеr twо more bеерѕ I rеаlіzе thе ѕоund іѕ соmіng frоm ѕоmеwhеrе in hеrе.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a soothing lullaby, cocooning her in a sense of security and warmth. As she shifted in her sleep, a huge weight encircled her waist, disturbing her peaceful slumber. With a gentle groan, she again turned to the other side, her back facing him, expressing her discontent in soft whimpers that mingled with the hushed whispers of her dreams.

I feel sleepy after eating so I ask Gideon if he can assist me on lying down properly on my bed. He complied, and he lower the head of my bed to 45 degrees. I usually sleep with two pillows under my head because I feel dizzy If I only use one pillow. In this case, I only have one pillow and it is not enough for me hence, my bed is inclined to 45 degrees. Gideon promise to buy me some memory pillow foam whatever that is which I just nod because I have no idea what he is talking about.

I can see being trapped inside this silver box is already messing with him. "Just relax and concentrate on slowing your heart beat down. Once you slow it down enough you will slip into a deep sleep. You may not be able to bring yourself out of the sleep, so I will wake you when I wake up." I watch him do as I say. After a few minutes, his body stop moving completely appearing to be dead, I can barely hear the sound of his heartbeat. I lay down and take in a calming breath as I close my eyes, feeling my heart rate starting to slow down.

Willow asked, forcing her eyes open even as her body fought against it. “Of course.” I bent down and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand. She fidgeted for a moment but she finally slipped back into sleep. I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest and listened to the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. I wasn’t going anywhere. Willow… Beep. Beep. Beep.

He walked to the obsidian desk he’d moved into my wing, his silhouette a monolith of corporate power and clinical obsession. I rolled onto my side, pulling the covers to my chin. My heart finally kicked back into gear, a ragged, uneven 102 beats per minute. The child followed a second later, a dull thrum that felt like a rebuke. I closed my eyes, praying for the static in my head to quiet. But the static changed. It wasn't the hum of the Argus servers or the white noise of the air purifiers. It was a rhythmic, high-frequency clicking coming from the baby monitor on the nightstand.

I shove a pillow into the space where I was. His arm wraps around it immediately. "Hmm. Bunny..." Oh shit. I hold my breath. Watch in horrified fascination as he pulls the pillow against his chest, nuzzles into it like it's me. His hips move. Once. Twice. He's humping the fucking pillow. Even asleep, his cock is awake. I watch it swell, thickening against the white fabric, the piercings making little dents in the pillowcase as he grinds forward unconsciously. This man is a fucking stallion.

Modified, of course, his engineers had added biometric sensors, a fucking machine arm, and a collar-sync that adjusted intensity to my heartbeat automatically. “Mount it,” he said. I straddled the beast. The dildo attachment was huge, a veined silicone, already slick with lube. A secondary arm held a clit sucker. Ahmed secured my ankles to the base, and my wrists to a bar above my head. Blindfold back on. “The safe word is ‘red.’ But you won’t use it.” The machine started at 90 bpm, gentle pulses. I rocked my hips, moaning as the dildo filled me inch by inch.

Sigh. I opened a fresh project file. BP-Guard. I started sketching out an idea for an app specifically designed for elderly Omegas or humans with high stress. It would use the phone’s haptic sensors to detect subtle tremors and use the front-facing camera to analyze skin flushing. It was personal. It was something that could actually help her. I lost track of time. By 3:00 PM, I had a working prototype of the interface. I was excited—really excited. This was better than anything in the VitalsConnect suite. But then reality hit me like a bucket of ice water.

“And they participated in the sort of games that you would find in Fifty Shades of Grey.” “Kinky bugger!” Paul exclaimed. “Whoever the woman was suffers from obstructive sleep apnoea.” I showed him the small pocket sown on the back of the nightdress. “They put a hard object like a walnut into this pocket and it prevents them from sleeping on their back. If the sufferer did, sometime in the night they would stop breathing.” “Interesting,” Paul smiled. “You’d better take a look at this. It’s a fax message sent from a dance studio. I wonder why they didn’t telephone or send a text message.”