Posted by Barbanne on September 07, 2004 at 00:54:25:
Okay guys here's a story to keep you going while I finish off part 142 of Playdead dot com.
I know I've done this idea before but, well, I like it.
Sorry to say it but I don't think the Deadwood F P teenie is ever going to come back. Maybe her present day descendant could?
I'll think on it.
I raised my arms above my head and stretched, watching myself in the mirror all the while.
Yow, you could see my ribs under the skin above and below my breasts and my tummy was like a half a basketball nestled in a hollow crater and my tits were small but saggy and when I turned myself sideways my bum stuck out alarmingly.
I'm getting old!!
Old and sorta ratty looking.
I clamped my hand across my forehead in a sort of sheesh reaction and my skin was cold. Really cold. Its always been unnaturally cold. When I first played dead in games as a kid I terrified the other kids because I would lie there unmoving and I was like ice to touch. Sometimes, in little squealing fits of terror, they would think I really was dead.
Sheryl of course was looking less ratty than me, but she was getting plump. I mean its nice when a girl turns womanly and develops a woman's shape but in her case it meant she was kind of cuddly and nicely upholstered all over.
Tash looked just as ratty as me. Her problem was that she had always been a bit wild and feral and as she grew up her sort of battered, weathered look was something she also grew into. She was one babe whom you only had to look at to realise she had obviously been around the block once or twice.
There were the three of us.
Adventurers in the old west headed for the High Sierra to discover the lost Spanish gold.
We were going to be rich.
Right now we were knocking back sarsparillas in the bar of the Dead Dog saloon in Tumbleweed City.
Sheryl was getting fair up my nose and our bickering turned to name calling and then my temper snapped and it was on for young and old. (well two gals anyway)
As happens when girls fight it was all tooth and claw, scratching, spitting, hair pulling and vicious.
One of the old timers at the bar spat and opined to his cronies, "When them gals get goin' a couple milleniums of civilised behaviour goes out the winder."
"Shore fight like randy cats," agreed his drinking buddy.
"Eeeeyah, bitch, cat, bitch, bitch, %$#@, &*^%$!@#, %^$#%$@#&^%$#@.................................,etc, etc."
All in high wailing, sobbing screeches.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrggghhhhhhhhhh...............," screamed Sheryl driven beyond control.
"Bitch. bitch, BITCH!!!" I shrieked.
Her shirt was tattered, her right breast swinging free.
My top had been ripped off altogether.
Tash swigged sarsparilla and opined, "Youse two dames shore do fight dirty."
Sheryl had lost it completely, red mist clouded her vision and she was totally out of control.
She slammed my head into the bar and I sighed and slid downward. Not to be denied she grabbed my ponytail and my chin and jerked my head violently to the side.
"Eeeeek," I said.
KERAAAAKKKK!!!!!, went my neck.
"Aaaah," shouted Sheryl in enraged frustration and she dropped me.
I hit the floor, tits down and dead.
From now on I was bonelessly limp and totally flaccid. I was cold and dead, an iced and helpless corpse.
Tash stooped down and pulled my head up by the hair. My eyes were slitted and glazed and my bottom jaw hung slack and my tongue flopped around between my teeth.
She rolled me onto my back and felt for my non existent carotid pulse.
"Ya stoopid dumbass," she hissed at Sheryl, "you've killed her dead."
"So................., she wuz a fuckin' bitch."
"She's the only one knows the way to the gold. The map's tattooed on her ass and the key's tattooed in her pussy."
Undoing my pants she pulled them down around my ankles, tugged my panties down to my knees and rolled me to one side so that the tattooed map could be seen on my right buttock.
"So...............skin the babe gals," said the old timer.
"Yair, slice that map right offen her ass," helped his pardner.
"Errr, yuuuuccchh," said Sheryl and Tash together.
"Waaaaaaaaaaal, iffen that's unappealing you could haul her ass over to Hannah in the undertakers and she'll preserve yore lil' mate here."
"Is that so?" said Tash.
"What are we waiting for?" said Sheryl.
Taking a bare arm each they lifted my corpse and dragged it toward the door of the saloon. My heels scraped across the wooden planks, my pants bunched around my ankles and my panties strained across my knees. My head hung loose, hair trailing and my tummy bulged out under those ribs. My breasts sagged apart.
"Clump!" my heels clattered over the doorstep.
"Skreeeeeeeeeeeeee," they raked across the boardwalk.
Then, with Tash and Sheryl holding an arm each, my limped out body made its way across the street, my heels scoring two furrows in the dirt.
"Huh, some people," said the old timer.
"Yeah," said his pardner.
Splat! sploosh! they both spat into the spitton.
Clumpity clump. Skreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....................!
Tash and Sheryl dragged me up over the stoop and into the front parlour of Hannah's undertaking business.
Hannah, a tall willowy blonde, came out from behind a curtain and stared quizzically at these two dames holding another, mostly nude, dead one between them.
"What you got there ladies?"
"Ermm," said Sheryl, "ermm, we sorta killed our pal Barbanne here and that wuz a bit of a mistake and we're wondering if you can sorta preserve her for us."
Sheryl and Tash nodded. I hung there dead as a dodo.
"Well, its five dollars for embalming or fifty dollars for my special."
"What do ya get for fifty dollars?"
"For fifty bucks yore little pal Barbanne here will be fresh as a daisy ten years from now."
"So what does five bucks get us?"
"For five bucks she might be a bit stinky in about a week."
"Damn, we's gunna have to have the fifty dollar special."
"Bring her through to the back and let's have a look at her."
They carted me in behind the curtain.
"Put her up on the table."
A long wooden planked table stood in the centre of the room.
Tash and Sheryl hoicked me up and dumped me on the table and Hannah pulled my boots off and tugged my pants over my feet and then rolled my panties down and off. She stood there with her hand palm down over my right breast and slowly rolled her hand around, rolling my plump little tit with it.
"Ok, first I gotta wash her and then I'll do her, it'll take about three hours. You ladies got something else to do?"
"We'll get our horses and then maybe do some shopping at Minglepoo's store."
"Barb will be ready in three hours right?"
"Sure will, you all go off and leave her to me."
Hannah stood looking down at my corpse.
"Ok Barbanne you're all mine now."
She filled a pail with warm soapy water and using a cloth washed my body from head to toe, both sides, everywhere, spending plenty of time on my warm little crevices.
When she'd finished she produced an awfully long, double ended, beautifully crafted dildo.
"This isn't part of the embalming process Barbanne but its gonna be a tonne of fun, well it is for me anyway."
She straddled my dead body and inserted the dildo deep into both of us and proceeded to fuck me good.
A dead gal has to take it where she gets it eh? It shore was fun, well as much fun as you can have lying down and dead.
Finished funning herself with me, Hannah stuck needled tubes into my arms inside the elbows and connected them to her vacuum pumps and extrators and filler bottles and then started the whole contraption up, pumping my blood into a bucket under the table and replacing it with a mixture of formalin, sorbolene and magic herbals. A mixture she had obtained from the wisest of Hopi sorcerers and which was guaranteed to keep my corpse glowing and pliable for all time.
When Tash and Sheryl returned she was done and my blood filled the bucket and my pinkly glowing corpse rested on the table staring through half shut eyelids at the ceiling.
"Hey she looks gorgeous," said Tash.
"Way better than she did when she was alive," said Sheryl.
"Thanks Hannah, that's perfect," Tash paid over the fifty dollars and she and Sheryl carried me out between them to where the horses were parked. A small group of idle bystanders watched as Tash and Sheryl grunted and heaved my pale and naked corpse up and over the saddle of my horse, ass sticking up, legs hanging down one side and arms, hair, tongue and tits hanging down the other. Well, actually my tits were more sort of pancaked against the saddle.
The bystanders offered lewd and unhelpful remarks as Tash tied a rope around my right wrist, looped it through that strap thingy that goes under the horse's belly to hold the saddle on and then tied it to my left ankle.
"That should stop her falling off," she opined to Sheryl and the crowd in general.
Everyone sort of agreed that that would be so.
"Hmmmnnn," Tash tilted her head to one side then looked at Sheryl, "guess we should oughta toss a blanket or such over her just in case the sun and the rain wears out that map on her bum."
"That would be good," said the crowd.
"Very sensible," said the crowd.
So Tash covered me with a blanket and tied that on too and then she and Sheryl mounted up and we set off for the High Sierra and the map location of the Spanish gold.
On a trip like this being the dead gal beats all.
You don't have to eat or drink or go for a piddle or the other and you don't actually even have to get off'n yore horse at evening camp stops, not if you don't want to, although as it happened the other girls took me down to give the poor horse a break. Nope, all you got to do is just dangle there across the saddle and enjoy the ride and love being dead and smell the sweaty horse and the dust and all..........and feel the sun on your back under that blanket and feel the way your legs dangle down and your arms hang limply and your fingers beat a little tattoo on the horse and how your ass gets so warm you're like hot and how you go on kissing the side of the saddle and how you're just limply, helplessly, dead and slackly bent over your horse and tied to it otherwise you'd topple off and you're just the dead gal who ain't going to have any more active part in the action and how you're there at the mercy and at the pleasure of the others and how you have to just submit to anything anyone wants to do to you.
Anything, anything at all!!!!
Using the map on my ass Tash and Sheryl reached the High Sierra and found the cave where the Spanish gold was.
Using the key, seis, seisty, seis diablo, tattooed inside my labia, they opened the secret door in the rocks and went inside and dragged out the brass bound wooden chest.
"We is rich."
(slap! her hand smacks my bare ass)
"Will we ever shop now."
"Outa my way dudes I'm a'going to shop for the gold medal."
A bullet hit Tash on the left temple and mashed her brains. A second one hit Sheryl right between the eyes at the very same instant. Both girls dropped like poleaxed steers.
The old timer and his pardner walked up blowing smoke from their guns.
"Thank ee ladies fer showin' us the way to the Spanish gold."
"Never thought them rumours were true."
"Jest shows ya."
The old timer kicked Tash onto Sheryl and dragged the chest out from under her. He shot the lock away and opened the wooden treasure chest. It was empty except for a note. He held it up to the light and read.
"Estupida idiota, the gol' ees gone. We take eet years ago to buy our firs' MacDonald's franchise een Mexeeco. Hope you deedn't go to too much trouble, estupida. Hah hah."
"Ah well, all isn't lost I s'pose. Theez yeer ladies still got some pleasuring left in 'em."
The two men stripped Sheryl and Tash and screwed them to exhaustion. Then they took turns doing me.
Hitching their britches they dragged all three of us into the cave and dumped us in a pile.
So here I am.
As are my mates Sheryl and Tash.
Best thing is, those two are getting bloatie and pongy. Soon enough they'll be skeletons.
But I wont.
I had the fifty dollar special.
My lovely naked corpse is going to be here for the duration.
My apologies to any Hopi or Mexican folk. My knowledge of these things comes from old flicks on late night television.
All mention of anyone in this or any other story is intended as fictional elaboration only.