Accomplice phone sex with the Mortician of Souls

Accomplice phone sex collage2

I got called in for an emergency; some old man had died and his wife demanded that he be embalmed and the funeral happen in 24-hours, which is not usual. I laughed and thought that the broad had probably gotten tired of his ass and killed him. Sure enough, when she showed up, she didn’t look like a widow: she had on a tight pink dress that showed her ample and fake cleavage. I overheard her talking about how her husband had left a note that all of this should take place A.S.A.P. because he didn’t want her to suffer through the loss longer than she had to. She had a dyke accompanying her, and I believe that was the real reason for the hurry.

I embalmed the stupid son-of-a-bitch; and, I caught a glimpse of why he died…poisoning. I wasn’t surprised, and I would have just let it go, but I thought of something better. I worked extra-hard and got him prepped in no time; then, I left but re-entered through the back. I had laced her sparkling water and waited for her to approve the body. She walked in and stood in horror; I had propped her deceased husband up, eyes open, and posed in a relaxed state. With the lighting, he looked like he was waiting on her. I jammed a cloth in her mouth before she started screaming; and, then, I laid her on my table. I told my boss that she had left and I returned to my victim, who was completely conscious now.

Happily I traced a pen around her breasts where I’m sure the incisions had been made for her breast augmentation. I carved out the flesh and then played with them in front of her, flicking the nipples. It was the best puppet show as the stupid bitch started to lose consciousness…but not before I slit her pretty little face and held a mirror up for her to see. Her last moments were looking at her own mutilated body and screaming; then, I took a picture of her holding a pair of scissors above her ripped torso. She had, after all, done this to herself! 

I put the breasts in the coffin, under the pillows of the old man; I thought he’d appreciate that gesture. Then, I buried the bitch in an animal graveyard. Poor thing left a note…that she had felt so sad about her husband’s death that she wouldn’t need any of the money and was disappearing to grieve; no one mentioned that the handwriting didn’t look like hers. Hahaha!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.