روايات وقصص ضمن Sharp Short Blows To The Surface Of The Chest

It knocks all the air out of me, and my daggers fly from my hands. As I try to find my breath, the man swings his giant foot and slams it onto my chest. He puts his whole weight on me and it almost feels like he’s going to crush my ribs. As if he’s already won, he lifts his arms in victory, and the crowd screams with excitement. My chest starts to hurt and I can feel he’s about to break something. I’m very surprised when, out of nowhere, Sheril appears and kicks him in the chest. He staggers back, and finally, I can breathe.

He was too slow. My blade was a whisper of steel that bit deep into his throat, cutting off his shout before it could fully form. I didn't stop there. I twisted, driving my shoulder into his chest, a brutal, bone-jarring impact that sent him staggering back toward the edge of the cliff. He flailed, his hands clawing at the air, a gurgling, choking sound escaping his lips.

I didn't say anything in return, keeping my mouth shut beneath my mask, and just tilted my head slightly to acknowledge the sentiment, even though it wasn't really true for me. I decided to charge this time, sprinting forward and feinting a strike to his left flank. Just as Harding predictably swept his long staff out to block me, I planted my boot directly onto his weapon, climbing up the length of the wood swiftly and somersaulting clean over his broad shoulders. As I came down behind him, I jabbed my stick hard into a spot on his upper back. He let out a rough grunt of pain, but before I could safely get away, he blindly threw his elbow back. The blow caught me square in the ribs, the she

"Fast and hard. She needs you to do this." I did as I'd seen, using my own weight to depress her breastbone. I understood the science, the necessity to compress the heart muscle enough to express the blood and give her body the oxygen it needed. But as my body pushed, noises like cracking cartilage and breaking bone filled my ears. With each snap and crack, the bile I'd tried to hold back rushed upward.

I lunged. The impact was brutal. Sophia’s back hit the marble sink with a gut-wrenching crack. Her body gasped, her nails clawing at my arms, but I was faster. My fist struck her gut, stealing the breath from her lungs. She wheezed, her knees buckling, but I didn’t let up. Her nails scraped the soft skin of my lower arm, but pain was a distant consideration. I seized her wrist and twisted it. She cried, her body bucking against the counter.

SERAPHINA The first blow landed and all the air rushed out of my lungs, not from pain alone, but from the sheer force of him. The sting radiated through me, hot and deep, every nerve in my skin sparking like it had been lit from within. I bit my lip hard, refusing to give him the sound he wanted. But he didn’t even wait. Another blow came, harder this time, and I jolted forward, my fingers fisting in the sheets and my cheek pressing down on the mattress.

I lean in close, no breath, just a faint gasp. I quickly checked the chest again — still no movement. I place the heel of my hand right in the center, between the nipples, and the lower half of the sternum. My other hand goes on top. I lock my elbows, line my shoulders over my hands, and I start pushing. ‘One, two, three, four…’ I count in my head as I push hard and fast, at least two inches deep, steady, keeping a rhythm. I can feel the resistance, the weight of the body pushing back. I keep going. Twenty-nine, thirty.

He dropped the silver blade, the metal clattering uselessly against the stone floor, and made a desperate dive toward Sophia, his jaws opening to tear into her shoulder out of spite. No, you don't. I threw my entire weight forward, my massive paw striking him dead in the chest before his teeth could even graze the fabric of her dress. The sheer kinetic force of the blow sent him flying backward across the room. He slammed into the far wall with a horrific thud, his ribcage collapsing inward. He slid down the stone, coughing up dark blood, before going entirely still. Silence slammed down on the ruins, broken only by my heavy, ragged breathing and the dripping of rogue blood onto the ancient

Another punch comes out of nowhere—harder, faster—slamming straight into my face. Before I can recover, a brutal kick drives into my stomach, knocking the air right out of my lungs. I double over, breath hitching, vision blurring as pain rips through me.

"Keep my father's name out of---" "Arrggh!" I wince at a hard blow that lands on my chest knocking the wind out of me. Doubling over I wheeze blocking out the shouts from the small crowd rallying around us. That's it! Hot flashes flare across my vision before I have a second or two to regain my breath. The stinging contact makes my head pound like crazy. "All mouth I see! Why don't you fight me like a man, huh pussy?!" I'm gonna murder this shithead!