Posted by Barbanne on March 13, 2000 at 14:12:01:

Knobkerrie gave me the idea for this in an email. He was sharing some interesting stuff with me and I got this idea. He will tell you what I have written is all bull***t but here it is anyway.
Hope you like it!


I am dead.
Me, Barbanne, late of this parish, a waitress and sometime lady of the night.
Here I lie in my preservative bath. Pickled!
A specimen for students of medicine and the general public to view.
I was walking home late one night with my considerable takings after working hard at the old horizontal humping when I fell victim to the body snatchers. These are gangs of guys who provided corpses to the doctors and medical schools of these Victorian times. (That's Victoria Regina, not Vicki.) Of course I wasn't a corpse but they soon fixed that. A filthy rag held over my mouth and nose until I asphyxiated and then, having turned me into a corpse (genuine, actually dead already ones, being in short supply) they robbed me, (not that I cared any more) and carted me off and stripped my body and delivered me, in a winding sheet, to the medical school.
They got nine shillings and sixpence for me.
The medical guys were pleased to get a young fresh one, cadaver that is, and they cleaned me up where I had lost control of my bladder whilst being croaked and preserved me in this bath of formalin and some heavy suspension liquid.
Pickled like an onion.
And here I've been ever since.
Floating freely in a glass case full of clear liquid and dead girl.
The stuff has preserved my skin nice and smooth like and my eyes are wide open and my hair and eyebrows and pubics sort of wave around like weed in a goldfish bowl.
I'm totally naked of course and sort of float on my back with my arms just away from my body and my legs apart.
Here's a Professor and some students in a little group. They stare at me and he points out my anatomical features. Very interesting!
On weekends they open the place as a museum to the public and I notice young fellows who stand and stare at my nudity and play with themselves inside their trouser pockets and I just know they are jerking off.
Wish I could charge them.
Here's a young girl with her boyfriend. They've come to look at me because along with the two headed cat I'm one of the monstrosities in what they see as a freak show. Better than going to the seaside carnival. She's looking at me...oh, oh, she's gone awful pale, and, ooops! yep, over she goes fainted out cold. He's rubbing her wrists and dragging her away.
"Rub her tits mate, that'll fix her!"
Nobody hears me.
Here comes a group of old ladies. They're looking at me like wide eyed and now, yuk! They're turning their eyes away and holding their hankies over their noses.
"I don't smell ladies. I'm just dead!"
They're gone and here's another studious looking young feller. He's looking at me like I'm really interesting. He's perving I'll bet. Yeah, he's bent down and looking between my legs at my yawning pussy. Now he's got his hand in his trouser pocket and he's looking furtive but excited. Yep, he's jerked off at the naked dead lady. Now he's sneaking out saying stuff like "Hmmn, very interesting."
The queue to look at me stretches to the door now. Come look at the naked lady who is dead and floating in pickling juice.
Dead and on view. Dead and robbed of her humanity, her dignity, her privacy, her very essence.
Ah well, its a living.......................................