So this is what it's like....


Posted by Barbanne on January 31, 2002 at 21:04:56:

SO THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE........
(......BEING DEAD!!!!!!)




Bloodless corpses and narration from beyond the grave. I can hear you already saying this girl has lost it, her stories are just unbelievable crap.
OK that's as may be, but as I've asserted before, if I'm writing it and I'm describing this fantasy of mine then I reserve the right to use any trick or fabrication I choose.
That alright with you?



So here it is.


Sheryl, Lindsey and I lived together in an old terrace house on the fringes of the inner city. Once a working man's suburb it had declined and become slummy and was now in the process of being reborn as trendy. The only way we could afford it was because the yuppies still hadn't found this one and so it was still affordable for three single girls clubbing together.
Sheryl was a medium tall, slightly built girl with lustrous long black hair and a body sculpted by a dedication to the gym. She worked in a drafting office in the city as a computer graphics designer and on this night had just come home and was still dressed in the two piece business suit she had worn to work, tight sheath skirt and short tailored jacket.
Lindsey was a tall, lithely built and very beautiful blonde with thick golden hair in a helmet cut and the most gloriously shapely, perfectly round breasts I have ever seen. (without the help of silicon that is) She worked as a pa to some guy in the government and sidelined as a photographic model in outdoors magazines and sporting magazines, that sort of thing where they needed healthy clear, clean, blue eyed blondes. She had come home earlier and was mucking around in shorts and a tee shirt.
Me, I'm Barbanne and you know me from before and at this time I was wearing my hair long and in a tightly curled perm so that it hung past my shoulders in straggly corkscrews. I had begun to notice that my ass was spreading and my tummy was developing a bit of a bulge and my tits were getting just slightly wrinkly here and there. I whinged to the other two girls about it and they both told me I had to go along to the gym and get with a programme. I was going to too. Soon. I was mostly waitressing and had taken to going to catering classes and topped up my bank account by working as a lingerie entertainer and table top dancer when time allowed. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner and wearing shorts and a singlet top. No underwear. I loved getting around at home without underwear. If the other girls are both away I get around nude but when they are home, which they were, I dress but leave my undies in the drawer.


We never locked our front door.
Stupid I know.
But it was hot and we liked to let the breeze blow through the house from front to back. We had a screen door but any skillful ten year old with a credit card could have gotten past that. So the first I knew about trouble was when I felt something prod me just below the ear and looked up to find the kitchen filled with people in ski masks. One had a gun pressed into the back of my head and the other was watching. I could only see their eyes but I knew immediately that the guy with the gun was a guy and the other one was a girl.
The gunman spoke, all breathy like.
"Turn off the stove and get out there." He jerked his eyes toward the lounge room.
"But this will get ruined."
"Don't shit me just do it."
I flicked off the gas and did what he wanted.
In the lounge room another masked man, I could see from his eyes that he was a man, was standing holding a gun on Sheryl and Lindsey. They were together on the lounge and both looked sick and terrified.
The one holding the gun on me turned to the girl and said, "Tie 'em up."
She produced a roll of duct tape and working quickly, silently and efficiently used it to bind their wrists, their ankles and tape over their mouths. Sheryl was sniffling.
Then the guy with the gun pushed it hard against my neck and said, "Come with me."
He, I and the silent girl walked down to the bedrooms.
"Pack bags," he said.
"Eh???" I said.
"Pack bags as if all three of you are going on holiday."
"You're going to kill us aren't you?"
"Just pack the bags girlie."
"You're going to kill us, I know it, I know it, why? Why? WHY????"
"Pack the bags bitch."
I got out the suitcases we used when we went away and threw in clean underwear, a couple of dresses and plenty of casual clothes. Shoes, a change of bags, everything we'd normally take. I did this for each of us going from bedroom to bedroom. Then pushed by the girl who still hadn't uttered a word I collected our makeup kits and bath packs and got it all together.
The guy marched me back to the lounge.
His partner, the girl, untaped Sheryl's and Lindsey's feet and we were all marched outside and put in the back seat of a big black car. The silent girl rebound the other girls' feet and then bound my feet and wrists and taped my mouth. Before I was silenced I kept saying, "Why are you doing this, why are you doing this, you're going to kill us I know it," stuff like that.
Then I was shut up.
The two guys carried our bags out and dumped them in the boot.
The three of them got in and we drove off.
The first guy was driving, the second guy was sitting beside him and the girl was between them. They had taken off their ski masks and that was when I knew for sure we were going to die.
Our three captors were joking together.
I had no idea who they were.


The car stopped in a back alley behind a darkened warehouse building in the east end of town. The two men and the girl got out. She untied our ankles and using their guns they herded us inside. By the dim light coming from a single bare bulb I could see them all clearly enough. The men looked hard. Both would have been about thirty years old and one was unshaven whilst the other looked neat and tidy but totally merciless. The girl was very young, probably a teenager, but she looked mean and tight mouthed and the light of drug driven madness gleamed in her grey eyes.
We were in a cavernous bare space with a wooden floor, polished smooth by having had bales dragged across it for many years. The one yellowing bulb hung from a long dusty cord and threw a ring of illumination around where we stood. The girl went around us removing the tape from our wrists and mouths.
"Don't try screaming or your dead already," she hissed.
One of the men, the one with the whiskers, waved his gun at us.
"Strip," he said.
I pulled my shorts down and took my tee shirt off and kicked off my sneakers and stood there naked.
Sheryl had stripped off her skirt and jacket and Lindsey was in her underwear
"Everything," he said.
The girls stripped until they too, like me were naked, although Sheryl still wore her high heels and stockings.
I was whimpering.
"Hunh, hunh, hunh, hunh," I went.
The girl came over to me, "Shut the fuck up," she said.
I only cried louder.
Her hand with the gun in it came up and was pointing at a spot right between my eyes and just up a bit.
"I said shut up."
"Hnh, hnh, hnh, pleeeeeeeease," I puled.
The gun coughed and spat and a tiny hole appeared in my forehead and, like a puppet with its strings cut I spun around, arms flapping and legs twisting and slumped in a bodily tangle onto the wooden floor. I landed with a thump on my hip and shoulder, my arms twisted and crooked, fingers up and curled and stiffening, left leg straight out and right leg bent at the knee with my foot hooked in behind my out-thrust leg. My eyes were open and their shiny brightness dulled into nothingness, my gaze fixed steadfastly on the floor only centimetres away. My body twitched and spasmed.
Sheryl screamed and the girl turned on her.
Sheryl backed up and her heel trod down hard on the yielding softness of my breast. (I was far beyond feeling the awesome pain) She overbalanced and sat down hard on her rump on the floor beside me. The girl leaned over and placed her gun only millimetres from Sheryl's breast and fired again. The bullet smashed into the soft mammary tissue and parted Sheryl's heart. A final spasming kick and her heel stabbed into the small of my back just below my kidneys.
I felt nothing.
Neither did Sheryl. She was dead.
One of the men put his gun to Lindsey's temple and fired. The bullet slammed into her brain and she pitched forward over the two bodies already dead on the floor.
Sheryl, Lindsey and Barbanne.
All dead. Tumbled together in a mixed medley of arms, legs, breasts and bodies.
All three of our bodies, still coming to grips with our brains and nervous systems being dead were quivering and convulsing, jerking, tweaking and seizing.
The girl went over our still shuddering corpses and removed Sheryl's shoes and stockings and collected Lindsey's watch and the bangles, bracelets, necklaces and rings and ear rings from all three of us. Nothing which could identify any of our bodies was left.


Our killers had a stolen van parked outside the warehouse and the unshaven man had transferred our cases from the car to this van. An old blanket which had been used by the van's owner to protect stuff being carried in the van was spread on the floor of the back compartment and the two men carried Lindsey out and dumped her on this blanket. They returned to the yellow lit scene of carnage and carried Sheryl out and laid her on her back beside Lindsey. They returned again and this time the clean shaven man grabbed me under the armpits and the girl took my ankles and together they carried me out to the van. My ass hung down and my tits swayed and my arms dangled and my fingers hung lifelessly and my tummy bulged like a little pot. Had I been alive to be aware of it I would have really chastised myself for allowing myself to have such an embarrassing tummy bulge. But I cared nothing for what I looked like. My head hung forward and my frizzily curly hair curtained my face. My feet turned inward, toes curled up. The neat bloodless hole in my forehead concealed the ruin of my brain that the small bore bullet had done.
Dead brain.
Dead personality.
Dead girl.
The man and the girl heaved me face down over my two dead flatmates.
I landed across both of them, my breasts squished against Lindsey's globes, my groin covering Sheryl's face, my pussy tickled by her nose and mouth. My mouth was open and drooling against Lindsey's cheek.
Gas was moving around in and escaping from our newly dead bodies.
Small burps and burbles and muted hissing and groaning and grumbling sounds mingled together and an occasional louder blblblblblblblblblblblblbl.................as an air pocket reched an orifice.
Good thing we were all dead and beyond being shamed by our corpses' conduct.
The van jerked off. The three killers in the front, the three killed in the back. It stopped and started and swerved and swayed and bounced along and our tangle of fesh bumped and shook and slid and wobbled along, helpless to do other than move when the van moved. My tits rubbed up and down against Lindsey's, my pussy slid wetly against Sheryl's facial contours, my mouth slipped sloppily against Lindsey. My tummy and arms and legs massaged the flesh of my girlfriends.
Like some gross parody of sex our three cooling bodies writhed together in orgiastic slippery sliding intimacy.


Our killers were pros.
It was an organised hit.
Our luggage and clothing disappeared into an incinerator.
Our bodies were headed for disposal.
And not one of us, I'm convinced, had one slightest inkling why.


The van with its cargo of still twitching, quivering flesh drove out into the countryside and finally stopped deep within a plantation pine forest, in an area not due to be logged for at least fifteen years.
Our execution had been well planned and when the van pulled in under the shadowed depths of the pine thickets a deep grave had already been dug in preparation for its cargo of bodies.
The killers opened the van doors and the girl jumped up and inside.
I was still sprawled on top of Sheryl and Lindsey and despite the constant movement of the van my blood had started pooling, staining the tips of my breasts and my tummy and the fronts of my thighs with the bluish rose colour of livor mortis. My vulva, my outer labia, were also discoloured and purplish.
One of the men grabbed my heels and tugged. The girl pushed from inside. I slid backward towards the outside, my tits squishing upward as they dragged over Sheryl's corpse. My legs dangled downward and my ass pointed up and my pussy scraped over the rear ledge of the cargo compartment. The girl gripped hold of a bunch of my hair and hoicked me up and I tumbled backwards into the arms of the waiting men. With his arms around my chest one of them, the one with the five o'clock shadow, dragged me across the leaf litter, my heels bobbling along and dumped me on my back beside the freshly dug hole.
My mouth was open and my eyelids were slitted, almost closed and behind them my eyeballs had rolled back and up and inward. My arms lay stretched out where I had fallen and my legs were spread wide open, feet turned inward, toes and fingers upturned and clenching as rigor mortis approached.
Sheryl and Lindsey followed soon after, dragged across the ground, heels scoring tracks in the muck of the forest floor until they too lay sprawled beside me, Sheryl, like me face up and staring sightlessly at nothing and Lindsey on her side her rounded ass pointing back toward the van and her beautiful breasts scrunched over each other.
The girl giggled and squatted down beside me. She had a knife with a razor sharp blade in her hand.
She pushed my pubic hair back and took my swollen, wet and blue, cold blood stained genitals in her hands holding the lips pursed together between thumb and forefinger.
"Think I'll slice this cunt's cunt right off," she giggled and waved the knife around.
"Don't mark her."
"Think I'll just cut her fuckin' womb right out."
The knife waggled around.
"Geez you're one crazy bitch, I said don't mark her."
"Fuck you," the knife blade lay cold and sharp alongside the bunched flesh of my pussy, "I wanna slice this cunt off I will."
"You are fuckin' mad Merrilee, fuckin' mad, now leave her."
Merrilee placed the point of her knife at the base of my abdomen.
"Slice out her womb, see where babies come from."
"Leave her be, she's dead, they're all dead isn't that enough?"
"I wanna cut off her cunt!"
Merrilee was getting surly.
Of course, like Sheryl and Lindsey I just lay there dead as dead can be. For preference I would have liked not to be sliced up after death but let's face it I didn't really care.
I was just a prop like dead body in this mini drama.
"Merrilee girl, just leave the poor dead cunt alone and let's get on with it."
The girl giggled crazily.
She giggled and giggled.
"Cut the bitch's cunt off and then rip her womb and heart out."
She had my pussy lips gripped in her fingers again and was slashing at the air only millimetres from them with her razor sharp blade.
"Fuck," said the unshaven guy and holding his gun right inside Merrilee's hair he pulled the trigger and a bullet mashed the teenager's brain. She flomped forward over my corpse her knife skittering away.
"Fuckin' mad bitch. I told you she was mad," said her killer.
"Yeah she certainly wasn't the full measure but she was a good root."
"There's a hundred more of them."
"Yeah I guess so."
They hauled Merrilee off of me and stripped her nude and bundled her clothes and dumped them in the van.
Grabbing an arm and a leg each they lifted me up and dropped me into the hole in the ground. I landed with a soft thump. They rolled Merrilee in next and she plopped on top of me. By some chance she had landed so that her face and mine were together, mouth on mouth, lips opened on lips, pussy against pussy.
Lovers at the end.
My body had accepted my death and was still and silent but Merrilee's was too freshly dead and it was burping and glooping and rattling and farting and tiny moans still escaped from her mouth. Sheryl landed across us next and then Lindsey's tits made a perfect two point landing flattening themselves against Sheryl's naked back.
The guys had bought shovels with them and they started dumping the mound of earth back into the hole. Quite quickly the pile of female bodies, limbs, breasts and torsos disappeared inside the steady inflow of soil.
When the grave was filled in, the killers tamped it down and rescattered the leaf litter and pine needles to return this part of the forest to a natural looking state.
Only a slight mound told its story.
No-one would find it in a million years.
The van drove off.


I lay smothered inside my grave.
Merrilee on top of me, her body still burbling and sighing.
Sheryl and Lindsey, like me, lay silent and dead.
We never did know why we were dead.
Her for eternity. Entombed inside the soil of mother earth.
So this is what it's like being dead.