WARNING: this is a heavy BDSM horror story, intended for adults only. If you do not like to read about pleasure, pain, killing etc. don’t even try to read this. If you do, enjoy and let me know how you liked it.

Death and pleasure

As the door of the mansion opens we are received warmly by a dark, long dressed lady. “Come in, come in,” she says, “You must be Mr. Robert and Mrs. Anne. Your wife has arrived already some time ago, sir.”  I smile politely “I expect so.”

She takes our coats. And we follow her through a long hallway, dimly illuminated by candlelight. We walk into a big, well illuminated, and spacy room with a long table dressed richly with food and wine. Large glass sliding doors open into a big lawn. Several people, mostly middle-aged men and women in evening clothes, like us, walk around in the garden, wine in hand. Our hostess addresses me and says that we are the last of the guests expected, and that “we should begin.”

Anne and I enter the garden together and look around. It is a very large well-tended lawn with a soft layer of springy grass. At the far end a separate tree stands alone. It has a thick straight trunk with branches only at a considerable height. Attached to the trunk, not far from the ground, is a big round disk with red and white painted concentric circles. Obviously the shooting target against which you will be shackled for your execution.

You are now brought into the garden. Completely naked and, as beautiful as ever, you struggle fiercely against the two obviously quite strong men who hold you. The effort makes your full breasts swing and your long hair wave as you violently shake your head. The men are dragging you between them. You scream so loud that your cries reverberate against the sliding glass doors behind me.

We all walk over and form a circle around the three of you. You look at us, your eyes bewildered, your face full of tears and screaming. ‘Noooo… please help me…. please… I don’t want to be killed…. noooooooo… I’ll do anything… ask my husband… I’ll do anything… but let me live… please… let me live…!’ It’s a very arousing sight to watch you in such fear and panic, and to see how your sexy body cringes, twists and writhes itself in all directions. But it’s all in vain, you can’t free yourself from the tight grip with which these two men clinch your jerking wrists.

Our hostess, the slim dark lady that welcomed us at the door, walks out of our circle, approaches you calmly and then hits you forcefully with the back of her hand across your pretty face. “Be quiet woman!” she bullies, and to my surprise you stop screaming. A droplet of dark red blood appears on your lower lip and your eyes grow wide in horrid dread. But our hostess smiles. She scrutinizes you up close and then begins to speak, slowly, emphasizing every word, as if teaching a child: “You may as well hush up woman, it won’t help you to scream. Your husband sold you. To us. You can’t change that. You’re in it and you can’t back out. I’m sure you’ll give us great fun shooting you. Crying won’t help. It will only get us more excited.”  She turns around and, addressing the two men who hold her, she adds: “Go put her up now, so we can start with the fun.”

Yanked forward, you immediately begin to struggle and fight again, but to no avail. You must face it. The circle of guests opens itself to let the three of you through. Now you become aware of the target board on the tree, and I see the realization of what awaits you grow on your face. Once again you begin to scream and plead for your life. With growing excitement we all watch. I harden in my pants and Anne’s face begins to blush. While you are dragged by your arms along the grass towards that inviting target board, an excited mumble arises among the guests in the garden.

I am amazed by the speed at which the two men succeed in fastening your desperately struggling body to the board. Your delicious arms and juicy thighs are spread wide open, spread eagle, as they call it, bound firmly by wrists and ankles. It’s a beautiful sight to watch, even from the distance at which we are standing.

The men now step away, and leave you, as much as the ropes allow, wriggling your chest with its alluring breasts, and twisting your hips as much as possible, displaying for our greedy eyes the enticing baldness of your juicy vulva.

“The hostess gets over to me. “Sir, would you please talk to your wife and try to calm her a bit for us? It’s hard to hit her properly if she moves like that.”

I nod gracefully and walk over to the tree.

My bound wife’s eyes meet mine with a horrified and begging expression. “Robert…” she exclaims, “get me out of here… I’m serious… this is no game… they mean it… these people… please Robert… please help me…”

“My dear, it’s too late to change things. By now you should know that perfectly well. Isn’t this what you fantasized about all these years? Isn’t this what the three of us talked about for so long? We all wanted it, didn’t we? You too. You as much as Anne and me. We sold you to a snuff club, at your own wish. There is no way back for you now.

“But… no…” you wail, “that was just a fantasy Robert, I didn’t mean it to happen real. You and Anne did, but for me it was only a fantasy. Of course I don’t want to die… not really… not now, not never… Robert… please don’t let them kill me…”

“Look at you. You’re all in tears, but soaking wet between your legs. You’re enjoying this.”
“No I’m not… please Robert you must believe me… “

I put my hand down and feel the softness of your mound. A shiver runs through you. I investigate, and find you quite wet indeed in your swollen cleavage. No arguing against that. But it is true that your mind is really terrified, even though those succulent nipples on your beautiful breasts stand out hard. I pinch them and you respond with a big shuddering, which flows through the whole of your adorable frame, while you jerk at the ropes that bind you.
“Robert, don’t do that… I hate you…I love you… Robert… you know…” Your words get lost in an outburst of sobbing.

“I know what, dear? That you are aroused? As much as when Anne and I use our bull whip on you?”
“No, Robert… no…,” you yell at me, “this is different… they are going to kill me for real… Robert, listen to me… I don’t want to die… Robert, not for real… please Robert, don’t listen to them, don’t listen to Anne. You still love me… I know you do… please Robert… please.”

“I do love you, dear, but Anne and I love each other even more, as you know. We’ll marry when this is over. The three of us agreed to that, didn’t we? You too.

“Noooo...! Robert… Please…!” Panic distorts your face.

“But my dear, it’s too late to have regrets. You wanted to be sold to a snuff club. And you made us promise to ignore your pleas. Anne and me, we take pride in keeping our promises. There is nothing you can do now. You are helpless and fixed to a target board to receive our bullets. Your crying and pleading only excites us. I get a hard-on even from just watching you like this. You must accept that you’re going to die, whether you want it or not. You’ll soon be filled with bullets. So it’s farewell for now, give us a good showing. Bye, bye.”

I turn my back on you, leaving you behind screaming, yelling and cursing me. As I join the other guest, some of them politely applaud. I take Anne’s hand and together we see how our hostess comes around with a rifle. Smiling at me she says “Thank you sir. Why don’t you and your lover take a first shot at your wife?”

Standing about twenty meters from you, our live target, I plant my feet firmly on the ground and aim the rifle. I feel Anne’s hand caress my neck as I’m getting hot all over with excitement, watching how your eyes pop out in panic and your nude stretched body stifles in its ropes. I’m sure you notice where I am aiming at….

“NOOOOOOO!!” you scream, “Robert… NOOOO!!!” But your body betrays you, and I see clearly how your whole body suddenly flexes and writhes in a huge orgasm…

It’s the perfect moment…

WHAM…!!

You convulse as my bullet rapes you, penetrating your crotch. The applause behind me is lost in the pitch of your howling, while a thin rivulet of blood starts flowing down one of your shaking thighs.

Anne, next to me, jumps up and down in excitement, exclaiming “You hit her… you hit her right in her yummy… Oh Robert, it’s so exciting… I wish I could fuck you right away…” But, although quite horny myself by now, I try to remain calm, and smiling I hand the rifle to Anne. “Your turn.”

She takes it up, puts it immediately to her shoulder and aims. “Don’t kill her right away, dear” I warn her as I stroke her hair encouragingly, “The others should also have their fun.” Anne’s face is red with excitement and she has to make an effort to control her trembling. But then, smiling cruelly, she slowly pulls the trigger.

WHAM…!!

Blood spits out of your left shoulder. Good shot. It releases a stream of ringing howls from you.

Anne drops the rifle to the ground and falls around my neck, kissing me ardently. A woman next to us, as excited as we are, bends down, grabs the rifle and shoulders it. She aims for a long time at you, my already twice shot and screaming wife. It’s great to watch you jerk so ferociously in pain and panic, against your bonds.

The woman finally pulls the trigger.

WHAM…!!

The bullet penetrates your lower belly close to your love mound. It sinks in your flesh creating a flower of dark red blood. You now scream your lungs out, harder than I ever believed you could. I didn’t know you had it in you. It’s very exciting. Anne and I press into each other in a violent hug. The woman gives a cry of joy, and blushing she hands the rifle to her husband. He hungrily snatches it from her.

WHAM…!!!

I guess he aimed at your crotch as well, but his bullet enters the upper part of your quivering thigh. It causes the evening air to fill again with your roaring screams.

Other guests now take their shots at you as you hang naked and helpless before them on the target board. Soon your lower body is riddled with dark red bullet wounds. The wide area of your still undulating hips, and your shaking upper thighs, with in its center your once so beautiful femininity, is ripped open and bleeding. It seems that most of the guests chose to shoot at that most intimate region of yours, preferring it above any other part of your nakedness. But still, several less well-aimed bullets have ripped through your lower calves, your belly, your bound arms, and your shoulders, cracking and splintering many of your bones, and causing rivulets of blood to flow down your body. The only area spared, even from stray bullets, are your alluring breasts. We all know that if we shoot you through the heart, you’d die on us too quickly.

I look around. People are embracing each other, hugging, fumbling and kissing. Clothes are in disarray. Cries of pleasure erupt from them. One couple even fornicates on the grass. Nobody cares.

When finally everybody has taken a shot at you, your screams have died and you hang unconscious in the ropes. Our hostess approaches you now with a small pistol in hand. She grabs your hair and pulls your face up. Briefly you regain consciousness and I hear your voice begging weakly to spare your life, although you surely know by now that you have no chance to survive the bullets we put into your body. But still you cling desperately to life. The lady smiles at you, and slowly shakes her head ‘no’ to your pleading. She heaves her pistol, pressing it to your temple. “Good bye,” she says, “It was nice shooting you.” And then she shoots you right through your head. Your last feeble cry is cut short, and you head falls forward, behind the  curtain of your luxurious hair.
 
Your ruined body hangs lifeless before us.

“That was it, my friends”, our hostess says, stepping carefully over some half naked couples humping each other on the grounds. Her face is as flushed as every one else’s. “That was quite enjoyable, Robert,” she says to me, “shooting your beautiful wife. She made a lovey target. Thank you for providing us with such pleasure.”

But I have no ears for her. I am embracing Anne. Both of us are sexually burning. We kiss hungrily, while I fondle her buttocks and heave up her dress. Together we sink down onto the grass and she grabs me by my crotch, fumbling with my belt. We are so roused with each other, that I barely hear our hostess announce:

“There is drinks and food waiting inside, folks.”