Story time.

Posted by Barbanne on March 01, 1999 at 23:06:37:

My purpose here is to get this message board to be a place for those who love dead sex as a fantasy (with fun and arousal) and to do this I'm going to give you a story every now and again. These are meant as fun and they deal with death but have to do with SEX!
This is a brand new story again. Written for you guys here.
Catch my stuff on Femmes Obscure as well.
:) Barbanne. (Tits up, horizontal, dead girl. :))

By Barbanne.

My name's Barbanne and I'm the lady mortician at the Deadwood Funeral Parlour.
That morning I took off my hat and my duster jacket, hung them in the little office, and going to the laying out room, put on the heavy rubber apron and the rubber gloves before turning to my customer.
Her name was Shy Anne and the Sherrif's boys had dropped her off just ten minutes before. She was a gunslinger from down Waco way and that morning she'd come up against Belle Carter and she'd lost. Well, came second, and that means losing out here in the wild west.
She had on black pants, a black shirt, black boots and gloves and a gunbelt and neckerchief and she also had a big black hat and a six shooter but they were lying on her chest. Belle had gotten her right through the left breast, through the heart most likely, and that finished it all for Shy Anne.
I'd had them lay her on her back on the zinc lined table with the drain holes and she was staring at the ceiling with a sort of surprised look.
Shy Anne was an ash blonde and looked pretty spectacular in all that black. I considered how I'd undress her. Had to get her nude before I could clean her up. The bullet wound had torn and bloodied her shirt. Bloodied her breast most likely too. I thought on it.
I was looking forward to it.
After all, I am a lesbian necrophile.
I pulled off her boots first, noticed she had a couple of blisters. I unbuckled her belt and pulled it loose. I carried her hat, boots and gun to a side table and laid them out in a neat group. I came back and pulled her pants down, took them by the waistband and slowly slid them down her legs. She had on cotton underpants. I admired her thighs and neat knees and lovely, graceful calves and ankles, then I was at her feet and I eased her pants over them and off. I unbuttoned her shirt. It was nice but had been ruined when Belle's bullet punched a hole in it and in Shy Anne. I had to get her shoulders up and off the table to remove her shirt. She was heavy. Dead weight! I smiled at my joke. Her head lolled back and her blonde hair trailed as I struggled with her but I got the shirt off. Cotton brassiere. I rolled her to one side and after admiring her ass, I undid her bra and eased it off and down her arms. I pulled her underpants off. I folded everything and added it to the pile. Her neckerchief and gloves was last items off and after that she was nude.
I went and got a bucket and filled it with warm water. I got a bar of soap. I placed another empty bucket under the zinc drain pipe to catch the drippings and started washing her.
She was travel stained and dirty and I think maybe it was coming up her bath night cause she hadn't had one for a while. I had a sponge and my bar of soap and abundant water. Shy Anne had abundant hair and abundant pubics and her pubics didn't match her hair colour. I guessed she had been using that new fangled bleach stuff. I washed the blood off her chest first. Dang it, that Belle was a good shot. Her bullet had gone in just below Shy Anne's nipple and must have like drilled her heart right there. She'da been dead before she bit the dust. It was a messy hole but I washed it clean. I started in then to wash her body all over.
I washed her face.
She was a pretty girl and must have been, Oh, about seventeen that year. She looked awful peaceful lying there. Dead, but peaceful.
I sluiced out her mouth and washed the gunk from her ears and nostrils and scrubbed that pretty face all over. Got out my bar of soap and started in, washing her shoulders and her cute, rounded titties, spending special time working the soap into a lathery mess over and around her thrusty nipples. I washed her arms and under her armpits and spread her fingers and scrubbed around them. I washed away at her abdomen and tummy and used my finger to slop out her belly button and then rinsed off the top of her, before starting lower down. Bar of soap in hand, I spread her legs apart and washed over her thighs especially the soft skin on the insides. I washed over her knees and those lovely shins and ankles and then spent yonks on her feet. I went back to her groin, my heart beating faster and my tummy getting tight and excited. Her legs had joined up a bit when I washed down them and so I spread them wide once more. I took off my right glove and really soaped up her pubics. Then I got my free hand well and truly soapy and slid it inside her pussy. I felt around and located her clitoris and stroked it and pushed my hand as far in as it would go. I turned it around and around fingering that cold, wet, slippery slit.
I was having the time of my life.
I rolled her over onto her face and shivered with thrills as her titties squished over the wet zinc table. I scrubbed her back, she had lovely shoulders and a neat back bone and cute dimples above her buttocks. What a sweet and lovely ass she had. I got that barehand soaped up again and played around inside her ass some more. Then I rolled her onto her back again. This time I rinsed her clean and using water only slid my fingers back into her cunnie and had a load of fun feeling her up. (I think that's what it's called) 'Cept she was dead so there wasn't much fun for her, but heck, heaps for me.
I went over and locked the door. Just in case.
I had taken both gloves off now and got my other hand down inside my own panties and worked myself into a frantic state as I played with her. I imagined being dead there in her place. I got awfully aroused. Finally I came all over my fingers and that was incredibly sexy.
I cleaned up. Me as well as her. I dried her off and cleaned and dried the table.
I made up her face. Made her look real pretty.
I closed her eyes so she looked asleep.
I got her dressed in a burial shroud. Had to get Paw to help me move her around and lift her up and stuff while I did that. Then he helped me get her into her coffin.
He went back to whatever he was doing and I tidied up Shy Anne's make up. I leaned over and kissed her.
"Yer beautiful Shy Anne," I said, "I love yer."
She didn't say nuthin', just lay there dead. She looked so young, just a kid really.
We could'a been lovers. She was my type.
See.............., did I tell ya. I'm only fifteen myself.

Shy Anne had a beautiful funeral.
No one much came and those that did spit on her coffin and stuff like that. No call for that. Made me sad and I cried.
Belle Carter was there.
She was old. Like maybe nearly thirty. She was a redhead and she was built strong and curvey. She had buckskins on. You know, fringed jacket and fringed skirt and boots with tassels and a keen hat. She looked mean. But wistful somehow. She looked like she could take care of herself.
Not well enough though.
A week later the sherrif's boys bought Belle in and she was horizontal. Came in boots first.
"Just lay her out there boys." I said.
She looked peaceful too, but plenty dead. Had a hole in her head. Mostly hidden under that red hair, but there nevertheless.
"What happened?"
"She called Snake-eyes Smith a crook and didn't clear leather fast enough."
"Oh. Bad mistake Belle." I said this to the corpse.
"Yep. Righto Miz Barbanne, you'll look after her?"
"Sure will."
They left and I locked the door again. I slowly stripped Belle's body of her dusty buckskins. The jacket had blood all over where she'd bled as she went down. I gave her my striptease special, leaving uncovering her pussy until last. Unlike Shy Anne (and me) Belle hadn't worn sensible cotton underpants, nope, she'd worn those lacy French knickers and I took my time getting these off her. I crumpled them in my hands and rubbed them over my face and breasts. I sniffed them and smelt Belle's sex which perveded everything. When she was stretched out nude on my table I started in on washing her. The bullet had gotten her just above the right temple and she had bled heaps and her lovely red hair was stiff with dried blood. I cleaned it all up.
She looked so damned sexy and womanly lying there with her really big round breasts sagging sideways from her chest and her big brown nipples covering most of them, that I decided washing her could be fun for both of us. I checked Paw was out and wouldn't be back for hours and, locking the door to the laying out room, I got myself naked and then washed Belle's body using my body as the sponge.
Gawd, it was erotic and I became so aroused and all and I think I climaxed time after time and my stuff mingled with Belle's dirt and grime and sweat and blood and I washed it all down. Then I lay on her corpse with my face buried in the cleft of her breasts. I licked and blew raspberries and sucked her dead nipples and just had the best time. A party.
Finally, I got dressed again and dried Belle off and got her dressed and made up pretty and into her coffin. On my own it was a real struggle but it was a work of love.
Belle looked beautiful.
It seemed a crime to bury those titties.
But we did.
It was a beautiful funeral.

I masturbated myself in bed at nights with clear memories of Shy Anne and Belle crystal like in my head. I'd take off my nightie and lie there and in my head it'd be my corpse that was being prepared and I loved the fantasy of being dead so much that I could bring myself on really easy. I allus made sure I was dressed and demure when Paw came in in the mornings.
About two weeks later somebody robbed the bank in town and Missus Jackson and a young feller were gunned down. Missus Jackson wasn't barely twenty and hadn't been married six months. The young feller was only nineteen.
They both ended up in my laying out room and as I put on my apron Paw took young Mister Jackson by the arm, he was plenty upset, and he said "Don't you worry Andrew, Barbanne will look out for her real well."
Mister Jackson looked at me through red rimmed eyes and he said. "Bless you child you're an angel."
I smiled my saccharin sweetest smile.
When they left and Paw went into the saloon for the day, I got Missus Jackson and the young feller naked on my table. Well her on my table and him on a side bench. She looked super pretty dead. The bullet had whacked her in between her little tender titties. I stretched her out looking really lewd and sexy. The young feller's donger was laying over his thigh and even slack and dead it seemed enormous. I'm no expert on mens' dongers and I just loved rolling it around and around and tried sucking on it. But Missus Jackson was my fav. I explored every crevice she had.
It was romantic.
My first ever menage a trois.
Me and Missus Jackson (deceased) and Mister (Didn't know his name) (also deceased)
What a day I was in for.