Memories of A Mortician Part 1


Introduction:
This is the first of a series of stories featuring a mortician. Drwings showing the dead victims can be found at thedarkspot.com under drawings ‘The Mortician Files’ or on deviantart under the user andersvg

INTRODUCTION
I have been interested in dead bodies since I was very young. I have no idea how it started but I enjoy the sight of beautiful dead female corpses. I believe I am what doctors call a necrophiliac though I never had the chance to get near any dead bodies until I was 20. That was when I applied for a job as a mortician in a mortuary near town. It’s been 25 years since I started work as a mortician and I think it’s time I start penning down my memoirs before I forget the details. Or I die myself. You see, I have just been diagnosed with AIDS. I deserve it I suppose. So I guess it’s time to come clean on a few things. Over the years, I can say that I have made the grief of death easier to bear for many relatives of my ‘patients’. However, I must also confess that I have done my share of unsavoury things in the course of my work. While I will of course not reveal the names of the deceased, it will not be difficult to infer who they are as many of their deaths were featured in the news. I sincerely hope that I will not hurt anyone by the things I am about to disclose. Many of you may feel disgusted or angry at my actions. However, I stand by what I have done. I am a mortician because I am obsessed with the dead and therefore do the things I did. Do not judge me until you have the chance to stand before a beautiful, unresisting female corpse and not get tempted.

NOTE
The following stories will feature what I remember of my actions on the corpses. I also get reflective after each case and would compose haikus for each of my customers as a tribute to them and the wonderful memories they have given me.

1. THE JOGGER (1985)
Sexy jogging babe
Entered by both knife and man
Now cold, dead, princess

I still remembered my first day of work at the mortuary. It was back in 1985 and I have been given a trial period of 1 month and I was supposed to learn on the job. I was brought to a room to observe the owner of the mortuary himself at work. I shall call him Mr M. He was standing over a covered body on the mortuary slab. He motioned for me to approach as he pulled the cover off the body. I was rather apprehensive that it would be some smelly decomposed body or a mangled corpse from a traffic accident or suicide. To my surprise, I saw the naked body of a beautiful girl. She looked rather familiar. Her body was covered with mud stains and there were several red and raw looking holes in her neck. Her vagina also looked raw and torn and there was blood around it.
“Gorgeous isn’t she? W.T.. The co-ed who was raped and killed, not necessarily in that order, a few days ago while she was out jogging.”
No wonder I remembered seeing her face before. She was all over the newspapers for the past few days since her naked stabbed body was found in a wooded area near her house several days ago. I felt strange that Mr M would call a dead body gorgeous. But I had to agree. She did look rather lovely despite being disheveled and muddied. Had a great body too with two shapely breasts that had just began to ripen.
Mr M continued, “ Now tell me, what do you feel when you see a body like this. Be honest with me or you can go find another job.”
I had never told anyone about my necrophilia fantasies but something in Mr M’s eyes compelled me to tell the truth.
“She looks extremely pretty. I wish I could take her home and have my way with her before she rots,” I heard myself babble out.
“Good. Honesty’s a rare virtue these days. There are a few things I must make clear to you however. First, don’t assume that you will see such a lovely body all the time. Count yourself lucky if one or two a year comes your way. Second, you may think she’s pretty now but our job is to make sure that she gets prettier still. Third, once the mortuary doors are locked, you can do anything you want with the bodies as long as you leave no traces behind. But I wouldn’t advise anything more than heavy petting, especially for the rape cases like this one. Believe me, you don’t want to catch any VDs from our ‘patients’. Ok let’s get started on our pretty W here. We’re lucky that she was discovered a day after she was killed so there is little decomposition. This makes our job much easier. Usually, the relatives would give us a photo of her when she was alive so we can work based on that.”
He showed me a photograph of a smiling W in a sexy sporty jogging outfit. Probably the type she was wearing when she was ambushed and killed.
“Also, her face is totally undamaged so it will not be hard to make her look alive. Thank God the murderer did not slash her face with the knife. Also, almost all her blood has been drained due to the stabs to her neck so we won’t have to draw out her blood manually. Easy job with a pretty corpse. The best thing people like us could hope for. You are really lucky! Ok, now watch and learn.”
With that, Mr M. started demonstrating what would soon be my livelihood for the next 2 and a half decades. I will not describe the messy and complicated process of embalming here in too much detail. We started to wash her body and hair Mr M told me to hold up W’s body as he sprayed her with a hose and scrubbed away the mud and bloodstains with a sponge soaked in disinfectant. I felt a stirring of desire as I saw Mr M scrub away at her breasts and vagina while giving them an extra fondle or stroke once in a while. He massaged and bent her limbs and body as he was doing so.
“This is not purely for pleasure. I need to relieve her of rigor mortis which as you can see is rather obvious after a couple of days dead. Don’t worry. You will have your fair share of her later on and for all the other patients in future,” he said as he saw me staring at him.
Indeed, W has been quite stiff when we started but after a while, she grew limp. I was instantly aroused as her head rested against my body with her faintly fragrant hair in my nose. It was probably the shampoo she used on her last shower. After that, Mr M told me it was time to ‘set her facial features’. In death, W’s mouth was opened wide as if in a final scream for help. Mr M pushed her jaw closed.
“Normally we would wire her jaws together but that will make kissing her later less pleasurable. Don’t look surprised. I know you want to do that. I will however insert eye caps under her eyes to make sure they remain closed throughout the funeral.” I saw that her eyes were glazed but still full of allure as he did so.
We then injected a needle into her neck to pump in embalming fluid while another needle drew out whatever blood she had left. Mr M told me to massage her body during this process to ensure better circulation of the embalming fluid. I hesitated for a while before placing my hands on W’s body. I lovingly massaged her as the embalming chemicals began to flow into her body. After ten minutes, Mr M told me that it was time to suck out the contents of her stomach and internal organs with a trocar and pump. As the foul smelling and dark coloured liquid was drawn from her body cavity and emptied into a pail, it proved to me once and for all that a beautiful woman can also produce smelly stuff. He then pumped in formaldehyde through the trocar.
“Don’t pump too much or her belly will bloat. We don’t want relatives thinking that she got pregnant after getting raped. Just kidding but don’t overdo it,” he said as he inserted a trocar cap into the hole left behind in W’s belly after the trocar was removed.
“See the stab wounds on her neck? They will be exposed so we need to hide them as best we can.” Mr M took out a lump of clay like substance, broke small pieces from it, rolled it up and inserted them into each of W’s 5 horrible stab wounds. He then washed her body with the hose and water again. By now, W was looking quite fresh and clean. I help to towel dry her wet body and hair. When I was done, Mr M said that it was time for the ‘grooming stage’ where he will dry the body and apply make up to get ready for the funeral.
He applied a light layer of moisturizing cream over her face and then showed me some clothes which laid nearby. “Her parents wanted her to be wearing what would have been her prom dress.” It was a white and violet dress with a light turquoise colored waistband. Mr M pulled a pair of white panties between her legs and then tied a strapless bra around her pert looking breasts. I then helped to hold up her upper body as the dress was slipped over her body. He then showed me how to apply makeup to make W appear more lifelike. He placed a layer of powder over her face to make it less pale as W had been rather tanned when she was alive. He then put a light layer of reddish powder on her cheeks to give her a lovely natural looking blush. Finally, he applied a layer of pink colored lipstick over W’s pouting lips. He then started to comb her hair while spraying it with hair spray while I help W slip on a pair of dark blue shoes. He then fastened a rosary around her neck. Finally, he sprayed W with some sweet smelling perfume to keep her smelling fresh.
“Now we’re done. I am now going back. You can leave when you are done with the body but remembered the guidelines I told you earlier. No traces and no sex. She’s all yours now.” With that, Mr M left and locked the door behind him.
In front of me now lay a sweet looking 18 year old girl who looked as though she was peacefully sleeping. The only imperfection were the 5 pieces of clay plugging the holes in her neck. I leaned forward and kissed her on her cold dead lips and could not stop my tongue from forcing its way into her mouth to seek out her tongue, which felt strangely dry. I flitted it around with my tongue as my hand crept onto her breasts and I almost exploded with pleasure as my hands stroked her two breasts through her dress. I held her hands tightly in mine and ran my hand down her flat tummy which was impregnated with the sperm of the bastard that did this to her. I wanted to kiss her all over her face but was afraid of spoiling her makeup so I just gave her some gentle pecks on her cheeks and eyelids. I brushed her hair back gently and kissed her on the lips again before closing her now reopened mouth and whispering goodbye into her ear.
“Please don’t blame me for this W but you really look too lovely in the dress. I was not the one who did this to you. Goodbye W. You have given me an unforgettable first day at work.” With that, I left the room, hoping that the rest of my days at work here would be as pleasurable


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