[The Death of Su Yiling] Author: Unknown

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

The Death of Su Yiling
Author: Unknown
Word Count: 10879
I lit a cigarette, watching with rapture as Su Yiling slowly rose from the pool of our love fluids on the bed
. Her thin but beautiful face still bore the ecstatic expression from our lovemaking, cold and alluring.
Her short, neck-length black hair swayed slightly in the air conditioning, and because she was looking down, the hair on the right side fell
across her face, slightly obscuring her right cheek. Yiling composed herself; she clearly knew we were in a hurry,
and she always handled important matters well.
She deftly removed her fitted, sexy Singapore Airlines flight attendant uniform, and quickly slipped her 1.67-meter-tall,
shapely body out from under the beautiful floral skirt, standing gracefully before the bed. Due to our
frenzied and impatient lovemaking, I had only removed Yiling's panties; now, Yiling was only wearing a white
bra and black high-heeled shoes on her beautiful size 37 feet. Although her leather shoes concealed her beautiful
toes and heels, the low-cut shoes still revealed most of her captivating instep. The faint veins on her instep,
the thick ankle bones on her heels, and her straight, slender, and powerful Achilles tendons firmly held my gaze.
I felt a pang of guilt. I had asked Yiling to fly directly from Shanghai Airport to this small northern city at the last minute, but
when I picked her up from the airport, in the sweltering heat of over ten degrees Celsius, she was still wearing her Singapore Airlines uniform, her beautiful feet, painted with red nail polish,
and these leather shoes. This was the only outfit she had time to change into at the Shanghai airport; after all, Singapore Airlines slippers were too inconvenient
, and Yiling knew very well that she was about to flee with me.
Singaporean girls are just that natural and unpretentious. From the airport to the car, dozens of people stared at her
clothes and bare feet in her leather shoes, but she laughed and joked the whole way, completely unconcerned. While I was lost in thought, Yiling
had already opened her small suitcase. Due to the last-minute change of plans, she had packed almost no clothes for the north.
This 26-year-old girl, who grew up in Singapore, had little concept of the cold. After a brief search,
Yiling put on a snow-white dress. It was an extremely simple dress; I recognized it—a classic vase
style, simple, round neck, vest-style top, sleeveless and bare-shouldered.
The hem of the skirt fell just 1-2 centimeters above her beautiful knees, understated and elegant, while a
high slit on the side subtly revealed her dark, muscular thighs. Su Yiling, this girl who grew up in the tropics, never
had snow-white skin; her skin was indeed a healthy, athletic complexion. The sexy dress fit Yiling's
almost perfect body, typical of Singapore Airlines flight attendants, making her petite 1.67-meter frame almost rival that of a world-class
supermodel.
Yiling picked up the underwear I had pulled off and tossed aside. The tiny thong was already ripped.
She smiled at me and reached for another pair. "No…" I blurted out. Su Yiling smiled back,
tossed the underwear aside, and said, "No, but I can wear it later." Yiling was a traditional girl,
yet she was completely obedient to me. But I never imagined that Yiling would never have the chance to wear underwear again until her death.
Yiling threw down the underwear, stood on one leg, lifted her left leg, and deftly removed her left high heel. Then she
took off her right shoe, casually tossing them in front of me. Her small, size 37 feet were now
fully revealed before me.
They were also dark-skinned, with thin, bony insteps, and only one foot was long and slender, exuding a powerful aura. While
I was staring in disbelief, Yiling took out my favorite pair of white, thin
-strapped back sandals from the suitcase. Size 37, Nine West brand, the upper
had only three or four thin straps, with two others forming an inverted V-shape, crossing over the instep and wrapping around her beautiful ankles to hug her alluring heels
.
Although the sandals weren't brand new, they revealed most of Yiling's size 37 bare feet;
almost all five toes stretched out from the toes, the insteps, heels, and ankles completely exposed, incredibly beautiful. Her dark
skin, the dense light blue veins on the insteps, and the wrinkles on the arches and Achilles tendons made her feet appear even
more mature and beautiful. "Hurry up," Yiling said with a smile, noticing I was distracted again. She then turned and took
out her makeup bag to quickly get dressed. I quickly dressed and helped unpack the suitcase.
When I picked up Yiling's black leather shoes, I couldn't help but place them in front of me. They were a pair of slightly worn
high-heeled, low-cut leather shoes, with the number 37 clearly printed on the inside of the upper. I smelled them; the strong leather
scent was mixed with a faint, sweaty odor. After all, Yiling's feet had
been stuck in those shoes for six hours on her journey from Singapore to Shanghai, and then another two or three hours during her connecting flight. I looked up at Yiling's bare
feet in her sandals. "Yiling, aren't you going to wear stockings?" I asked, feigning concern. "I didn't bring any," Yiling
said casually as she applied her makeup. "Besides, would you let me wear them?" She gave me a flirtatious wink.
Singaporean girls are used to wearing shoes barefoot; as far as I can remember, Su Yiling had never worn socks even once
. It's rare to see a girl out and about without stockings. Yiling knows my foot fetish, which,
besides reflecting her straightforwardness and habit, also shows her consideration for me. But I
still felt a little guilty making her wear sandals barefoot in the northern heat of over ten degrees Celsius. However, with our lives hanging in the balance, we couldn't worry about that.
Su Yiling quickly got ready; she's always been a cheerful and understanding woman.
When she started, I was once again stunned by her beauty. Despite not having rested well for the past few days,
she was still incredibly sexy. Beneath her straight hair was a stunningly beautiful face, light makeup, and dark red lipstick,
which further accentuated her unique maturity and allure, and revealed a sense of loyalty and perseverance. A white dress, white
high-heeled sandals, and size 37 bare feet—Yiling looked simply beautiful and charming. I felt my little brother get hard again
, and just as I was about to hug Yiling, I suddenly heard the sound of a car downstairs.
"Screech..." We could hear two or three cars screeching to a halt in the courtyard below, followed by a cacophony
of voices. We immediately realized it was Hei Biao's gang; they'd come so fast! Yiling, as
agile as a trained assassin, darted to the window and looked down: "It's them! Run!" Before she could finish speaking...
She had already run to my cabinet and grabbed two handguns from inside.
A pang of regret flashed through my mind; it was all my fault. The situation was tense when I picked up Yiling
, but after a month apart, I couldn't resist having sex with her. Yiling had warned me, but I
continued anyway; after all, she was a 26-year-old woman. Soon, we lost all reason. I
didn't even take off her clothes and shoes, just pulled down her underwear and started having sex with her, from front to back, for a full 40
minutes, losing the last 40 minutes to escape.
"No, go!" I shouted, grabbing Yiling's hand. "It's not too late, go back to Singapore,
I'll come find you!" "Don't be silly, go quickly, I don't want you to die!" Yiling said firmly yet gently, her tone
like someone directing passengers to evacuate from a crashed plane. "No way, get out!" I screamed hysterically.
Knowing Yiling well, I knew she wouldn't change her mind. I'd always loved this side of her, but today, it
filled me with a bone-chilling despair. At that moment, I heard hurried footsteps on the stairs—at
least seven or eight people. "Yiling…" "Bang!" I turned around, and Yiling's cold, beautiful face
flashed before my eyes. A heavy blow struck my head, and I involuntarily collapsed.
Yiling was, after all, just a flight attendant; the force of the blow wasn't too great. I didn't completely lose consciousness,
but my limbs were weak and I couldn't move. Yiling deftly retrieved the handcuffs from under the sheets. Having been my girlfriend for two years,
she knew everything about me! In just a few dozen seconds, Yiling had handcuffed me,
and stuffed her thong, still carrying her scent, into my mouth. Yiling laboriously dragged me into the large
closet beside the bed.
As I was being dragged, I saw for the last time Yiling's size 37 feet, clad in sexy high-heeled sandals
, struggling to walk less than 20 centimeters in front of me. With each step, Yiling's stunning Achilles tendons would
bulge violently, so captivating. Yiling tied me to the closet, giving me one last tender look:
"Jonny, don't come out. I'll do my best to save you. Don't let me die in vain... That was amazing, I really
want to do it again." Yiling kissed my cheek and closed the closet door.
I struggled desperately, but couldn't scream. "Yiling, no, don't die!" my heart cried out
, but my body wouldn't move. At that moment, I could hear the assassins banging on the door. I could only
watch the most heartbreaking moment through the crack in the closet door. Yiling turned and grabbed the lamp, hastily knocking over
the bottle of beer on the bedside table, smashing it on the floor. The beer soaked her right foot, which was clad in sandals. But Yiling couldn't care less about
any of that. She threw the lamp so hard it shattered the window. "Jonny, run! Jump over the wall and
run into the street!" she shouted, clearly trying to let the assassins hear her.
With a "bang," the door was kicked open, and several thugs rushed in!
Yiling gritted her teeth, whirled around, and revealed herself in a snow-white dress, holding a pistol in each hand,
legs spread wide, barefoot in size 37 high-heeled sandals, lightly made up, cold and beautiful, like a female warrior!
"Bang! Bang!" Yiling's two guns fired first, and the lead assassin screamed and fell to the ground.
But the bullets from the next three or four assassins also hit Yiling at the same time.
"Bang bang bang..." Amidst the chaotic gunfire, "Pfft... pfft... pfft," I heard three bullets pierce human
bodies. Each sound felt like a blow to my heart. Three bullets struck Yiling's lower left abdomen in succession
, creating three bullet holes the size of one-yuan coins, densely bursting from her lower left abdomen to above her left groin.
The white dress that tightly hugged her body burst open at the bullet holes, its frayed edges flipping outwards. The bullets, carrying enormous energy, continued to tumble and exit
from above Yiling's petite lower back, bursting open at the most numerous exit point. A spray of blood spurted from the wound on her back
.
Yiling let out a muffled groan, as if she had been violently struck. Her delicate body arched forward,
her hands clutching her stomach tightly. But the bandits' bullets didn't stop there;
two more "thuds" echoed as one bullet struck Yiling's bare right shoulder, and the other hit
her prominent right breast, creating a gaping hole in her white dress! Yiling let out a soft
moan, her bent body suddenly straightening, her perfect form arching for two seconds before her legs gave way and she
collapsed to her knees with a thud.
My eyes involuntarily closed. I had lost consciousness, only feeling heartache. Judging from the location of the bullet wounds
, Yiling's left kidney, small intestine, and right lung had suffered severe damage. Even if she were taken to the hospital immediately, her
chances of survival were slim. But it wasn't over yet. Seven thugs rushed into the room (the other had already
been defeated by Yiling). The assassins, focused on finding me, paid little attention to the severely wounded Yiling. One
shouted, "Look, that kid jumped out the window and ran!" At that moment, Yiling, kneeling on the ground, suddenly gathered her strength
. She turned and tightly hugged one of the assassins' legs, shouting towards the window, "Joh
ny, run!" Then, with a sudden burst of strength, she threw the tall, burly assassin to the ground.
"Yiling, no!" I cried out in my heart. I knew Yiling was determined to die, trying to make the act
more convincing, but I couldn't shout. Just as Yiling had told me at the end, I couldn't let her die in vain; I couldn't
let her be disappointed after giving her life for me!
Just then, Yiling was already grappling with the assassin. Her two shapely legs and
beautiful feet in sandals were flailing wildly in the air. It seemed that the petite Yiling was about to overpower the assassin, but at that
moment, the assassin's submachine gun fired. "Rat-a-tat-tat..." The gun fired almost touching Yiling.
"Pfft pfft pfft..." On Yiling's lower back, near the three bullet holes,
five bloody holes burst open one after another in her taut dress. Because they were external wounds, each hole was as
big as a ping-pong ball. The rough edges of the bullet holes suddenly curled up, and a spray of blood mixed with fragments of Yiling's internal organs gushed
upwards. Yiling's delicate body almost bounced up as if electrocuted, tumbling half a circle in the air before crashing heavily
to the ground.
My heart clenched. Those five shots meant Yiling couldn't possibly survive. But the strong and brave Su
Yiling hadn't given up. Although she was just an ordinary flight attendant, her loyalty and duty to her lover kept
her going and fighting! Less than three seconds after being shot five times in the abdomen, Yiling
recovered from the pain. She struggled to her feet, her movements slow but resolute.
The seven assailants were stunned, watching Yiling stand up. Yiling clutched her abdomen
; her white dress was stained crimson with blood from her abdomen and right breast.
Yiling frowned, her lips slightly parted, and staggered a few steps to the window, weakly calling out, "Johnny
, quick, quick!" The thugs stared in disbelief at the back of her abdomen, which was almost burst open, at her
shapely legs spread apart, her bare feet in sexy high-heeled sandals, and at the
pair of super-protruding slender Achilles tendons on her delicate ankles. Several of them even unconsciously reached up to touch their crotches.
Suddenly, Yiling whirled around. Due to the movement, her right side of hair fell down, slightly obscuring her right
cheek. She coldly stared at the seven tall assassins, then let out a chilling laugh: "Common, best
!"
After a typical Singaporean accent in English, Yiling raised the pistol in her right hand. No one had noticed that
she had been clutching that gun the whole time. I sat in the closet, tears welling in my eyes, heartbroken. At that moment, I knew that Yiling's
fate was sealed once again. I only hoped she wouldn't be too strong; I hoped she would die immediately, without being shot again!
The result was exactly what I expected, and also what I least wanted to see: before Yiling's gun even fired,
the three Type 56 submachine guns and four Type 79 9mm pistols in the hands of the seven thugs went off simultaneously: "Bang bang bang... bang
bang bang... bang bang bang..." Bullets swept towards Yiling from a distance of less than 3 meters like a storm. "Pfft,
pfft, pfft... pfft pfft pfft," the first batch of six bullets all hit Yiling's chest with terrible sounds: three in
her right chest, one in her cleavage, and two in her left chest, exploding into six gaping, horrifying bloody holes. Yiling's
high breasts trembled incessantly in her tightly wrapped white dress, and as the bullets easily pierced through her back
, a large amount of Yiling's loyal blood sprayed forward and backward simultaneously!
Yiling tensed up, her slender waist straightened, and she leaned back. I truly hoped she would
fall out of the window and end it all, but the strong Yiling held on. She wanted the thugs to believe she was covering my
escape! Yiling took two steps back, her strong legs and size 37 feet in her sandals miraculously
supporting her weight once more! But just as Yiling straightened up, "Pfft, pfft, pfft... pfft pfft,"
another burst of gunfire like exploding beans. With a jolt from Yiling's youthful body, five more bullets
struck her stomach and ribs. Blood immediately billowed from her chest and back, revealing five new bullet
holes: three in the center of her stomach and two below her left ribcage.
For the first time, Yiling let out a heart-wrenching "Ah!" Her body tensed, she swayed,
but managed to stay upright! Without moving an inch, I could clearly see that Yiling's already slender, Southeast
Asian Achilles tendon bulged so much it looked like it was about to fall off. I knew the blow the petite 26-year-old Yiling was enduring
!
Yiling stood there frozen for a few seconds, her eyes, which could have captivated any man, wide open,
staring hatefully at the enemy before her. The seven assassins also stared blankly at this beautiful yet incredibly strong
woman.
Yiling stood with her legs apart, her five beautiful, slender toes peeking out from under her sandals. Her right
hand hung down, still holding a pistol, while her left arm stretched out diagonally to maintain her balance. Her almost perfect body
was riddled with 21 bullet holes in her fitted dress (one in her bare left shoulder). Although the bullets
had caused significant damage to her back and inside her body, the bullet holes in the front were not large;
each of the 21 bullet holes was only the size of a one-yuan coin. Although much of the blood had mingled together, the 21 bullet holes
could still be separated.
She held on for a few seconds, then the pistol in Yiling's right hand fell to the ground with
a loud thud in the quiet room. Immediately afterward, a gasp escaped her throat, and her blood-stained chest heaved violently
as if she couldn't breathe. Then, a thick gushing of blood
gushed from her half-open mouth, running down her jaw and neck. I couldn't help but close my eyes.
Like all assassins, I thought Yiling's final moment had arrived. Clearly, the hail of bullets had
ripped apart her lungs; she couldn't breathe, blood overflowing from her trachea. We waited for her final,
graceful fall.
But we were all wrong. Yiling's struggle wasn't over!
She coughed up four or five mouthfuls of blood, but after swaying a few times, she stood still. Her hands
clutched her bullet-riddled abdomen, her body leaning slightly forward, her head slightly raised, still fixed intently on
the assassins before her. A thick trickle of blood, about five or six centimeters long, dangled from the corner of her mouth, a truly gruesome sight!
Yiling slowly turned her face toward me. I knew she wanted to see me one last time before she fell. But
her face stopped halfway turned. She knew she couldn't let the enemy suspect anything
. In her final moments, Yiling gave up the chance to see her lover one last time, choosing instead to
fight one last time!
Just when everyone thought Yiling was about to fall, and several assassins had already put their guns back in their pockets,
Yiling suddenly staggered a few steps, unsteady but quick, to the bedside. With each step, her
size 37 high-heeled sandals clicked on the floor. Before the bandits could react, Yiling
opened her suitcase from under the bed, grabbed the high-heeled shoe that still held the warmth and scent of her foot, and
threw it away with a whoosh! The thugs didn't even react in time. In their shock, the size 37 leather shoe landed squarely on one
of their shoulders and rolled to the ground.
A final, cold smile flashed across Yiling's face. Her blood-stained lips parted, and she squeezed out...
With a final "johnny...", she reached for her other high heel, raising it high above
her head as if to throw it, but this time the thugs didn't let her complete that final action. Just as Yiling raised the high
heel, fully exposing her bullet-riddled chest, all three submachine guns and four pistols simultaneously opened fire
: "Bang bang bang... bang bang bang... bang bang bang..." Another dense hail of bullets relentlessly
rushed towards the petite Yiling, tearing through her body once more. Yiling's high, firm breasts
once again became the object of the bullets' passionate kiss, and this "passionate kiss" was too intense!
"Thump thump..." The bullets all entered her chest, relentlessly piercing through her delicate body,
exiting entirely from her back. The bullets were so "hard," the "thump thump" sound quite different from the "plop plop" sound of the last time she was shot—
louder and crisper (actually because many bullets broke her sternum and ribs). "Thump,
thump!" Blood blossomed again, "studying every crevice," on the already riddled white dress,
tearing open like pouting little mouths. From each hole gushed a stream of dark red
blood; some bullet holes oozed blood, but most contained very little.
Poor Yiling made no sound; her eyes were wide, her lips unable to close, a picture of utter astonishment and
despair. Yet she still displayed her unwavering, tenacious, and independent spirit: Yiling held her left hand out to the side,
while her right hand, pulled back to the right, firmly held onto her high-heeled shoe—her last weapon. Her size 37 feet, clad in the high-heeled sandals
, stood firmly on the ground. With each bullet's impact, her beautiful, perfectly shaped Achilles tendon
bulged dramatically, her skirt occasionally billowing to reveal her beautiful thighs. Yiling remained almost frozen, her body still
upright, her breasts, despite having taken many bullets, still standing tall.
"Thump..." With each bullet's strike, only Yiling's upper body trembled slightly, but the amplitude was very
small. It all lasted only a few seconds. When the gunfire stopped, Yiling had eight more bullet holes in her chest: two in her right breast
, two in her front breast, and four in her left breast, all hitting her breast line, all "through the heart." Two more
bullets struck her left upper arm. After the volley of fire, Yiling stood stiffly, her posture almost motionless
—she seemed unaffected by the bullets, she was resilient!
Yiling slightly parted her legs and straightened up, arms outstretched, chest puffed out. She had now been hit by 31
machine gun bullets, the bullet holes all quite large. So, although each hole was still discernible, her delicate body was riddled with
bullet holes, especially her chest and abdomen, which were densely packed with bullets, a gruesome sight. Each through-hole signified
the death of this beautiful woman, a tragic one. Her white dress was riddled with bullet holes from front to back (of the 31 bullets,
28 hit vital areas in the chest and abdomen!).
In the gentle breeze, her skirt fluttered, revealing Yiling's pair of shapely, beautiful legs. Her skin was dark, and her legs extended down
to her ankles, insteps, and toes—completely bare, without stockings,
clad only in white, high-heeled, strappy sandals. Her feet, size 37, were exquisitely shaped, filling the sandals perfectly. The insteps were high,
broad, dark, and flat, with prominent veins. A layer of grime covered her insteps (especially her right foot, where beer had dried)
, revealing fine particles upon closer inspection. Five toes protruded from the sandals—her large big toe, the longest
second toe, and her delicate little toe, only its tip visible, were particularly captivating. From behind, her strong heels were full,
with her Achilles tendons bulging from her thick ankle bones.
Yiling's eyes widened, larger than usual, her blood-stained lips parted, her face a mask of astonishment,
despair, and regret. In just a few seconds, she was hit by eight more bullets in the chest. She felt an unusual lightness and a tingling
sensation in her chest. These eight bullets had pierced eight holes in her body, two of them striking her
young heart squarely.
Yiling was in despair. She hoped she could hold on a little longer, that she couldn't fall! She opened her eyes wide, trying to hold on as she
had before. She was willing to be hit by 100 more bullets. But reality was undeniable. Yiling was only
wearing a dress and sandals, without even socks. Despite her beautiful figure, how could her flesh and thin clothing
stop the bullets? She was hit by a total of 31 bullets (28 of which were in her vital areas, including her chest and abdomen,
and her heart was shattered. Yiling was only a 26-year-old flight attendant; how could she withstand that?).
Finally, after standing upright with her eyes wide open for three seconds, her stiff arms relaxed slightly and
spread diagonally to her sides. She still held her chest high and her body straight, her expression frozen in place.
Her upright body leaned slightly backward, and her jade-like legs took one step back, two steps, three steps. With each step,
her beautiful Achilles tendon would bulge, each bulge pushing the edge of the Achilles tendon to a right angle, almost reaching
its limit!
The moment of truth finally arrived. Yiling's wide-open eyes froze, her lips parted slightly,
and a few drops of blood trickled from her mouth. Her face tilted slightly upward, her long, black hair falling neatly
down her back. Her delicate body twisted slightly to the left, and her body (now a corpse, she died standing)
fell gracefully and tragically to the side. My heart followed Yiling's fall, and everything went black as I lost consciousness.
When I regained consciousness, all the bandits were gone. They had clearly fallen for Yiling's desperate
trap, dragging the corpse of their accomplice, whom Yiling had killed, after chasing me.
I struggled to loosen the ropes Yiling had tied around my body, kicked open the closet, and easily
unlocked the handcuffs with a nail on the floor. After regaining my senses, these things couldn't stop
someone who had been in the underworld for years.
As soon as I was free, I scrambled to Yiling's side.
More than an hour had passed since the bloody battle . With the window open, the room temperature had dropped to below 10 degrees Celsius.
Yiling lay prone in the center of the room, her back facing upwards, her head turned to the right, so I couldn't see her
face from my angle. Her right arm was outstretched, still clutching the high heel
she had worn during our last lovemaking.
Her blood-stained dress was still neatly worn, which reassured me slightly; it seemed the bandits were in a hurry
to catch me and hadn't defiled Yiling's body.
Yiling's beautiful size 37 feet were still wearing those designer leather sandals.
Because she was lying prone, her feet were straightened, insteps facing downwards, making the wrinkles on her heels and Achilles tendons
even more striking. Although Yiling's insteps and toes weren't immediately visible, this angle clearly showed
the soles of her shoes and the distinct size 37 on them.
Yiling's back was a horrific sight; 28 bullet holes covered her back, each bullet hole
the size of a ping-pong ball or even an egg. Blood, churned flesh, and fragments of organs stained her entire back a mess, making
the bullet holes almost indistinguishable without close inspection! In her lower back, where she
had been hit by eight bullets in quick succession to her lower abdomen, the bullets had merged into one large
hole, almost the size of a palm. A clump of bluish intestines spilled out from this hole under the pressure of her abdomen, tangled together
like a messy ball of cotton, blocking Yiling's lower back. Because Yiling hadn't eaten for two days because of me
, her intestines were surprisingly clean, preserving her last vestige of dignity.
Three other bullets hit Yiling's exposed areas. One bullet to her right shoulder seemed to have struck the muscle directly, which was why
she was still able to throw things. However, the two bullets to her left arm struck her elbow, nearly severing her left arm.
The joints and tendons were broken, and the muscles were torn open, with only some skin and flesh on the back of her elbow holding her
left forearm still attached to her upper arm. The gruesome sight suffocated me. I hurriedly
stuffed Yiling's intestines back into the large hole. There was still a slight warmth inside her body, and my penis even showed a slight
reaction. I immediately dismissed the thought—how could I have such an idea? Since she had been dead for an hour,
Yiling's intestines were easily pushed back in.
I slowly turned her beautiful, bony shoulders over,
hoping, though it was illogical, that Yiling was still alive. Even that fantasy quickly vanished. I gently
turned her over, letting her lie flat on her back on the ground. Yiling's face was pale, clearly from excessive blood loss. But her
beauty was just as captivating as it had been an hour earlier when we made love. Her jet-black hair was neatly arranged behind her head, and
her slightly gaunt face was stunningly beautiful.
Beneath a pair of beautiful eyebrows and long eyelashes, a pair of captivating eyes were wide open,
their gaze blank and lifeless under light blue eyeshadow, staring blankly into the endless distance, unable to see her beloved lover
beside her. Below her straight nose were her sensual, Southeast Asian-style lips, half-open, still
holding a mouthful of blood, with more flowing down her neck and onto the ground. My
movement caused the thick, congealing blood to flow from her mouth again.
Yiling's beautiful body was still perfectly clad in her tight-fitting dress, her breasts proudly high.
From the front, Yiling's wounds were varied; 31 bullet holes, each only the size of a one-yuan coin, especially
on her chest and abdomen, where 28 bullet holes were densely packed, making her look like a honeycomb—a truly horrific sight.
However, each bullet hole was separate, tearing open one after another in the white dress. Shredded fabric around the holes
flipped up, some to one side, some forming small wells—a variety of shapes. The bullet holes contained thick, dark red blood
. Not much blood flowed out, though much had fused together, but each bullet hole was clearly visible. But
without counting, each bullet from Yiling struck my heart. Without counting, I knew she had
shielded me with her 1.67-meter-tall frame to save me. She had survived 31 fatal bullets: six to her left chest, two of which shattered her heart and
the rest completely destroyed her left lung; six to her right chest, turning her right lung into a sieve; three to her cleavage,
shattering her sternum; three to her stomach; three to her left ribs, all piercing her liver; and eight to her lower abdomen,
not only tearing her large and small intestines into several pieces but also piercing her uterus (which still contained my semen) three times
and completely blowing off her left ovary.
Additionally, she had one bullet in her right shoulder and two in her left arm, nearly severing it, leaving it strangely
twisted. From the waist down, her goddess-like body was completely intact. Although there were slight
traces of blood on the hem of her dress, it was still relatively white. Beneath the hem lay her beautiful legs that had captivated me.
Her originally dark complexion had turned slightly pale due to blood loss. Due to the movement, Yiling's right leg stretched out straight
, while her left leg was turned inward, knee pointing inward, and lower leg bent outward, extending her delicate foot to the left side of her body.
Yiling's beautiful size 37 feet were still neatly placed in her high-heeled, strappy slingback
sandals, just as they had been in life. Her feet weren't stained with blood, but they were a little dirty. After all, she had
walked the entire six-hour flight from Singapore wearing Singapore Airlines sandals, and then rushed to catch a flight north, wearing
those black high heels barefoot the whole time. Her right foot had been licked by us, and after she changed into sandals, beer was spilled on it until after her death, when it
dried in the shade.
Yiling's long, narrow, grayish instep resembled a flat plain; the prominent veins had faded, but a rugged,
bony quality remained. Although the Achilles tendon had disappeared, the thick ankle bones were still captivating.
The skin on the heel, thick and rounded, protruding from the heel strap was slightly wrinkled, with the skin near the base of the foot noticeably older and thicker—
a result of Singaporean women's long-term practice of wearing sandals barefoot. Five long, slender toes
, painted with bright red nail polish, peeked out from the toe of the sandal, displaying a final touch of allure (the fifth toe was only faintly visible).
The toes were also dirty and grayish, with a bit of freshly applied
mud embedded in the crevices of the most beautiful, thick toenail, which ironically added to the allure. It made her size 37 barefoot, despite wearing designer sandals, appear simple and
charming. These sandals, bare feet, and Yiling's face together formed the most beautiful scene of this beautiful corpse, especially
the wet and dirty bare feet in these beautiful white women's sandals, which brought a summery
feel to the late autumn season.
After all, Su Yiling died barefoot, meaning her feet, calves, and thighs were completely exposed, and following
her legs would lead to her alluring vaginal opening. Tears streamed down my face as I softly called out Yiling's name. I gently
kissed her face, even her lips, though they were stained with blood, I didn't care, because that blood had been
shed for me. I ran my fingers over each of the 31 bullet holes in Yiling's body, seemingly trying to...
I pieced together those fatal bullet holes one by one, but how could I possibly restore her shattered internal organs
? I lifted her cold thighs, then her size 37 feet that had once captivated me so deeply, and kissed
her beautiful, slender insteps and toes.
Her feet were cold, but in my heart, it wasn't because she was dead that I had let her
wear sandals barefoot in temperatures below 10 degrees Celsius! Yiling's bare feet still carried a faint scent of sweat and
the tropical aroma she had brought from Singapore, the scent of the place where we met and fell in love. But no matter how much I caressed Yiling's
body, her captivating eyes remained wide open, her unfocused gaze devoid of any response; she
would never again know the caresses of her lover.
Yiling, did you know in your dying moments that your 26-year-old life, as you wished, had been exchanged for the
life of this "scoundrel" of mine? Although I will lose my happiness from now on, I will cherish myself a million times more, because my life
is in you. I knelt at Yiling's feet for a long time, while she lay there quietly and motionless, her body covered in
blood and bullet holes telling the story of a brave girl who fought valiantly for love and sacrificed herself. Yiling stared blankly
into the distance, her eyes filled with the relief of completing her mission, but also with eternal regret. Her soul had already drifted to the distant
Maldives, to the place where we were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together…
Postscript:
According to the author's conception, "I" am a gangster assassin with many enemies.
While on the run in Singapore, I met the beautiful Su Yiling and fell in love. Later, I returned to the mainland to handle my final mission and called Yiling to
join me in escaping abroad under assumed names. Unexpectedly, at the last moment, we were caught by our enemies, and Yiling, to protect her lover
, was tragically killed in a hail of bullets (doesn't it have the feel of Hong Kong movies from the 80s and 90s?).
There should be more stories later in the story; I have already foreshadowed them. Yiling's last words were, "I really want to do it with you one more time."
Should "I" grant her wish? To prevent the bad guys from discovering her beautiful corpse, how should "I" dispose of
Yiling's body? Unfortunately, I'm not an expert at writing this kind of story. If any fanfiction writer could lend a hand and finish
the final chapter, I would be extremely grateful!!
[The End]

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/216181.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=216181&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Divine Eagle Empire - Chapter 93, Perverted Torture

Next Page : Hidden Official Career: The Subordinate Police Chief's Lustful Rebirth - Chapter 610: A Stunningly Beautiful Woman and Two Foster Mothers

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

[The Death of Su Yiling] Author: Unknown

comment Open a new window to view comments