"You can't be serious!"
"I'm sorry Kelli."
"It's a small amount. I wasn't smuggling it. It was for my own use. I meant to leave it at home. What about the American Embassy?"
"It's a drug offense. They won't get involved."
"What about an appeal?"
"This is a small country. That was the highest court."
"How much time do I have?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"TOMORROW MORNING!!! Oh no!!! This can't be happening!"
"I'm sorry Kelli."
"Stop saying you're sorry! An hour ago you didn't know me. Why did they bother assigning me a lawyer."

Kelli spent the worst night of her life. It was eight sleepless hours of mental anguish. "They are going to shoot me. like a common criminal, like an animal. The humiliation! Why can't they just let me go home?"

They had taken away her clothes and given her a pair of khaki pants, with a rope for a belt, and a shirt of the same color. When she dressed herself her hands were shaking so violently each shirt button was a major challenge.
Shortly after the sun rose they came for her.
The army was responsible for executions. The firing squad consisted of four privates supervised by a sergeant. The privates looked like teenage boys, and the sergeant not much older.
One gripped her by each upper arm, and she was taken out into the courtyard and across to a post in front of a bare wall. The post was fitted with a series of leather belts. The first belt was buckled around her waist, and the second and third around her knees and ankles. Her arms were pulled back on either side of the post and manacled together behind it. A final leather strap was buckled around her neck, not to choke her, but to hold her torso erect.
The sergeant brought a black cloth hood. Realizing it would block out her last view of the world, Kelli blurted out, "NO!!" He shrugged and stuffed it in a pocket. Then he unbuttoned her shirt to the waist and spread it open until the white inner curves of her breasts were exposed.
Sweat was now forming on her forehead and running down into her eyes. She heard them slamming rounds into the chambers of their guns and, through her blurred vision, saw them taking aim.
Suddenly Kelli's mood changed. She snapped out of her half traumatized stupor, glared at the firing squad with intense hatred, and shouted, "BASTARDS!!!"
Her cry came less than a second before the sergeant's order to fire. It apparently rattled the firing squad. Their aim was abysmal.
One bullet punched through her shirt and into her left shoulder. It passed through the space between the clavicle and her shoulder blade without hitting either bone, and exited her back. A second bullet entered the far right side of her chest near her armpit and shattered that shoulder blade. Two bullets penetrated her lungs. One entered her abdomen below her left breast, shattered a rib, and punctured her left lung. The other entered her right breast a little below the nipple, shattered another rib, and punctured her right lung.
Kelli's wounds were undoubtedly mortal, but she was still very much alive. She had four small entry wounds in her torso, and four larger exit wounds in her back. Both her lungs were severely damaged. She was in unbearable pain. Her breathing was becoming a wheezing sound because of the damage to her lungs, and she was starting to choke on blood rising in her throat.
The sergeant was thoroughly disgusted. He was angry with his men, but he took it out on Kelli. He walked up to her taking out his sidearm and advancing a round into the chamber. He placed his fingers on the soft inner curve of her left breast, to locate her pounding heartbeat. Then he placed the muzzle of his gun where his fingers had been, and pulled the trigger. !!!BAM!!! An ugly bullet hole appeared in her ivory flesh. !!!BAM!!! A second appeared close to the first. !!!BAM!!! and a third. !!!BAM!!! and a fourth. !!!BAM!!! and a fifth. The vital systems that had made Kelli a living organism shut down. The last flutter in her heart was gone before the fourth bullet. Kelli was dead.
Her body sagged in its bonds. Her head tilted to one side. Her lovely face was undamaged. The blood in her throat had not had time to overflow her lips. Her mouth was half open. Her eyes stared. Her expression did not suggest either suffering, or peacefulness. She seemed to still be alive, about to say something.
Her heart had been pulped. Bullets had shredded every chamber and torn through every major vein and artery.

Kelli's story rated front page headlines around the world.
The more conservative;
AMERICAN TOURIST EXECUTED BY FIRING SQUAD FOR MINOR DRUG OFFENSE
Where political correctness and sexism were less a concern;
BEAUTIFUL REDHEAD DIES IN FUSILLADE OF BULLETS
Tabloids seeking to maximize sales;
BEAUTIFUL KELLI'S FINAL MOMENTS - THE EXCLUSIVE STORY!

Hilary Clinton issued a statement deploring the execution. Amnesty International and similar groups issued a blizzard of press releases. The country that executed Kelli decided to institute a proceedure for appealing sentences.

Wow......great story, hon! i absolutely loved it. Awesome. ♥♥♥♥♥

Three Improvisations

fiction from the role play group

Starring Kelli

_____
1

I was roller blading a few years ago and got hit by a car. It’s kind of a cool necro-type story. I got knocked unconscious and when I woke up, I was on a gurney in a very quiet room in the hospital. At first I thought I was dead, thought I was in the morgue, still had blood all over me. Turned out it was just the waiting room for Xray. They were trying to kill me I think.

_____
2

I like that gun, David. I’d like it pressed up under my left breast,
that big, hard silencer. I’d wrap my fingers around it. I’ll guide it
right where it needs to be as he pulls the trigger… pfttttttttttt pfttttttttttttt… I feel the heat and force expand inside my palm as the rounds feed down the barrel… I feel the bullets punch through my ribcage … I jerk twice… eyes fly open … then you hold me as you look into my eyes and watch the life flicker from them… a small whimper, then an exhale and I am gone… My fingers twitch a bit and i pee. You place my hands over my heart and arrange my hair nicely. I look very lovely dead.

____
3

James bond always knows how to take out a lady with class. I would beg for it: “Pllllllllleeeeeeeease kill me!” I’d beg and plead, getting excited. I want him to kill me while making love to me: the orgasm of death and sex as one. I want to feel him explode inside me as the bullet explodes in my heart

He lets me handle the barrel while he strokes me with it. I take the muzzle in my mouth as he slips inside me. Then he moves it down my throat to my chest and I feel it settle in under my breast. This will be my gift to him, to let him feel me dying on his member. I want him to press the gun hard into my flesh, so he feels my heart pounding through the grip.

His face contorts and tenses as he nears climax but he holds the muzzle hard and steady against my chest. “God, this is so hot!” I buck wildly as I too am about to cum. As he swells and trembles with pre-cum, I feel him cock the hammer with a click that shakes my whole frame, We look deep in each other's eyes and I nod sharply. I scream as I release, a violent climax shaking my entire body as, with a roar of tortured air, the bullet blasts into my chest.

The exquisite pain, if only for a moment, intensifies my orgasm. For just an instant, I am in ecstasy, torrents of pain and pleasure slamming my senses. My pussy releases as I cum in dying waves, spasms milking his cock. He watches as my once-vibrant eyes go blank, the only movement left in me, death throes, a shudder here, a twitch there, then limpness. A sexual, living, breathing, feeling woman just seconds ago, now dead, with a womb full of his seed and a bullet in my heart.

Edited by Sam M, 1 year(s) ago

Kelli Assassinated by a Deranged Lover

fiction from the role play group

He takes from one pocket an FN-IOM loaded with eighteen 5.56 caliber ultra-highspeed fragmentation rounds, and from the other a silencer, which he screws on the IOM’smuzzle without looking. He waits for her to stand up
I stand up, look around.
>TPH!< he fires.
I feel a punch to my gut that jerks me backwards. I look down and sees blood: “OH MY GOD!”
“Too low” he mutters, raises aim, breathes >TPH!< A chest shot, but too far to the side.
The shot spins me, I slam up against the wall, slide partway down. Hot lead burns my lung,
He stands up and walks closer, pulling off three shots in four steps: >TPH!< >TPH!< >TPH!< -- a tight pattern, low midsection,
I jerk with the impacts, gagging on my own blood, plop down on my butt.
He puts the muzzle against her sternum, pressing her back to the bloody wall.
I gasp three times…. look up at you with doe eyes, struggling to breathe …
He looks down coldly, and >TPH!<, another round, dead center.
…jerk, eyes go blank… I topple over into the angle of wall and floor… little death twitches,
He stands over her, gun pointing down…
A pool of crimson spreads out from my corpse. I lie dead, my hair fanned out from my head, my hands over my destroyed heart.
He grabs her by one ankle and hauls her through the streets. Her skirt rides up and one shapely leg does limply graceful splits and high kicks.
I leave a bloody smear as you drag me, just moments ago, a vibrant, living breathing woman......now a bloody corpse.
He’ll remember most how her ankle feels in his hand.

His cruel shots hammer home. She fills to cry
but, taught by shock there’s breath nor energy,
pays rapt attention how he makes her die
and takes wounds as he means them, lovingly:
the first caress to shock her flesh awake;
the next a dance partner to swell her spin;
three fast, rude thrusts a lover’s passion makes;
the last expands her heart and lets him in.

Unwieldily dragged, grace still flares and flows
by sinuous undulation over curb,
threshold and bed, where adoration knows
his bare subject obedient to her verb
whose love that cherishes meets love that warps:
a vibrant woman… now a bloody corpse.

Edited by Sam M, 1 year(s) ago