My hands tied behind my back. I'm naked and huge muscle-guy is holding me up from behind, his left arm is around my neck, his right hand is at my lower left pec, his fingers dig into my chest, feeling my heart pounding. I can feel my own heart beating against his huge hand. He slowly starts to squeeze my neck cutting off my air. I struggle to break free, I kick his shins, but I get nowhere. He tightens his choke hold, and leans back, lifting my feet off the ground. I feel my heart beating strong and rapid, he presses his hand against my chest harder. I start to weaken as he feels my heart beat become erratic and sluggish. Finally, I hang limp in his grip as he continues to palm my still chest. When he's tired of feeling my beatless heart, he tosses me to the dirt like a sack of garbage.
 
I would like to steth a woman whose heart has been pierced with bullet or a knife, to hear the last beats. Or I want to get killed or commit suicide with a knife into my heart.
 
Oh my god you don’t understand how hard I get by the sight of young teens and men with shirtless bodies that are physically muscular and the thought of what their hearts feel, sound, look and even taste like. My fetish is so dark that I am here on holiday in a seaside town and I can see slim boys with visible 6 pack abs and clear chest muscles and I just want to get their hearts. Nothing would complete me more than tying ones muscular body up and literally lying on top of his heartbeat. Feeling it scared and it’s pure strength as I cut it out of him. Cutting apart his skin in between the visible muscles using the edges as outlines making a big enough slit to shove my hand in and grab his strong life.. my hand crushing the life out of it squeezing it so hard to cause him so much agony as I also bite his lips and face. Allowing him the freedom of death as I pull it out of him

I walked passed one yesterday and I could see his chest again no fat on him but I could literally see his heartbeat. Each forceful pump pushed again his chest right where the muscles part at the sternum on the left side his meaty heart whacked against his chest as if it wanted me to free it from it’s prison and I would’ve only been too happy to oblige. By just watching the two or three blasts of his life muscle literally seeming to jump out of his chest. I thought about nothing else all night than wanting to physically rip it out of him and feel it die
 
I go about my day not thinking about my heart pumping away in my chest until it skips a beat. It's almost as if he's reminding me that he's there.
 
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