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Chapter 4 Doctor Brown
Doctor Maxwell Brown had been the chief medical examiner for the city since before my time. He trained at John Hopkins and was considered one of the top men in his field. He was also getting along in years, and rumor had it retirement was a matter of months. Most autopsies he left to his staff but Cynthia Rose’s parents weren’t just anybody so he decided to examine her personally.
I was all garbed up like I was going to operate, not that I was going to be allowed to touch anything. I’d set my laptop up on a nearby table to take notes. Dr. Denise Jared was assisting Doctor Brown. She was an attractive petite brunette whose work was considered good enough for her to replace Dr. Brown and take over the department once he retired.
Denise had been good friends with my ex partner and his wife. She graduated Boston Latin high school with Mary Travers. Before Tom killed himself, Denise and I used to flirt even though she was married. I figured it was only a matter of time before I got into her pants. But after the suicide, she became a serious enemy who bad mouthed me every chance she got.
I’d greeted her with a cheery, “Good afternoon, Denise, you’re looking exceptionally well. Is that a new hair do?” to piss her off. It worked. She muttered, “Asshole,” as she rushed by without looking at me. Doctor Brown gave me what the hell look and shrugged. He was one of the few that didn’t hold Tom’s suicide against me.
Cynthia Rose was on the examination table. An attendant had washed her body and put the body block in place elevating her thorax pushing her fake boobs toward the ceiling. She looked like any other dead girl with the exception of the two shiny speculums decorating her orifices. I sat quietly at a nearby table as they started the examination. I typed away as Dr. Brown went through the preliminaries.
“Cause of death is a broken neck, a very badly crushed cervical spine,” said Dr. Brown finally saying something important.
We were looking at an X-ray. There were no recognizable vertebrae where C1-C7 was supposed to be, just a bunch of fragments.
“Any idea how it happened,” I asked?
“You see this in roll over accidents. My guess is she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. When the car landed upside down, her head took the impact crushing the vertebrae,” said Dr. Brown.
“No chance her neck was broken by an assailant,” I said.
“No, you couldn’t do this kind of damage if he hit her in the top of her head with a sledge hammer,” said Dr. Brown. “This is a result of having a ton and a half of automobile drive the crown of your head into the earth.”
Dr. Brown wielded the Stryker saw for the Y-incision opening her throat. I stepped closer for a better look as Denise snapped off evidence pictures using one of the lab’s new digital cameras. Cynthia’s cervical spine was pulverized. Next was the T-incision. The Doctor made a point of showing me her liver.
“Twenty two but with the liver of a forty year old, she’s been consuming alcohol regularly since puberty,” said Dr. Brown as he weighed the organ and entered the weight into the computer. “Alcohol is the number one cause of premature death in America.”
The Doctor was a former boozer who had staggered into AA one night and joined the sober. I had no idea why he was proselytizing me. I’m not much of a drinker.
“It’s Officer Westbrook’s dick that’s worn out from excessive use,” said Dr. Jared sarcastically.
“And how would you know, Denise,” I asked with a smile causing her to snarl at me?
“Tequila, urine, and semen, of course,” said Dr. Brown taking a whiff of the contents of her stomach after he had emptied it into a beaker. The way he did it reminded me of a wine tasting I’d attended where the host had invited everyone to savor the bouquet of a recent vintage pinot noir from Chile.
“No food,” I asked even though the fluid was almost clear. The presence of urine reminded me of my afternoon at Terri’s where I had tapped several tanks. When I left Terri’s, you could hear it sloshing around in my gut.
“None, when did piss drinking become a normal part of sexual intercourse,” asked Dr. Brown philosophically as he examined the contents of the beaker? “In my day, only insane people drank urine.”
“Been around for a while,” I offered before adding, “And it shows you really care.”
“I suppose it saves a trip to the john,” said Dr. Brown philosophically.
“It’s a means for men to objectify and humiliate the woman during sex,” said Dr. Jared once again tossing a mean look in my direction.
I tried to remember whether I had ever objectified Mary Travers with a tummy full of strong yellow. Probably, I decided although I could not remember a specific occasion when I humiliated her by emptying my bladder down her throat. It’s one of those things guys do after they’ve tried everything else.
That begged the question of where Mary would have reported her golden shower to Denise. I found it difficult to imagine Mary informing her, “Simon pissed a full bladder down my throat. It was delicious and oh so hot. I creamed my pussy as it filled my belly.” On the other hand, they were good friends and Mary had shared a few things with me about the sexual practices of Denise.
I framed my answer to make Denise unhappy. “It’s a way of sharing something personal with that special person.”
It was after the examination of the internal organs that things got interesting. The good doctor was shining a light in the vagina when he made the big discovery. “That’s odd,” said Dr. Brown reaching for a long thin forceps. It took a little effort on his part to remove a small furry rodent that had been wedged deep in the uterus.
“Jesus, a rat,” said Dr. Jared.
“No, a gerbil,” I corrected although gerbils belong to the same genus as the rat. I had gerbils when I was a kid. I’d recently bought my nephew Jason, Arlene and Sam’s son, a gerbil and a habitat for his birthday. Arlene was less than thrilled. She was secretly pleased when little Sparky expired after a week.
“I’m too old to find out that ancient urban legend is actually true,” said Dr. Brown laying the creature down in a specimen pan.
“I thought the legend only applied to gay men,” I said. I considered the gerbil up the ass an old wives tale myself. Gay men aren’t stupid enough to stick a live animal in their rectum. It would try to eat its way out.
“I’ve always heard it’s just a legend like John Crapper invented the flush commode,” said Dr. Jared.
“Exactly,” said Dr. Brown. “In all my years of experience, this is the very first gerbil I’ve found in a body cavity.”
“Its legs are taped,” I said noting the presence of clear tape holding both pair of limbs together. It looked like ordinary office tape. A roll of it sat on my desk at work.
“Possibly to make it easier to slide the gerbil in place,” commented Dr. Brown.
“My God, there’s another one,” said Dr. Jared pulling a second dead gerbil out of Cynthia’s rectum.
“The media will go into frenzy,” said Dr. Brown taking evidence pictures of the gerbils.
“We have to keep this quiet,” I said. You keep certain details from the media so you can reject false confessions. I pictured the following exchange with one of those nut jobs.
“Did you insert any foreign objects in her vagina?” I asked.
“Just my big pussy destroying cock, officer,” replied the nut job.
“Get the fuck out of here and quit wasting my time,” I would reply before I kicked his butt out of the precinct.
“I hate rats, mice and anything that looks like them,” said Dr. Jared examining the small body she held in the forceps.
“I need samples of the tape,” I said.
I held the evidence collection bags as Denise cut the tape then unwound it from the body. As she worked, I reconsidered my case. Whoever had come along after Cynthia Rose drove her Beemer over the embankment just happened to have sash chord, speculums, and two taped gerbils as part of his “don’t leave home without it” kit. That struck me as beyond the realm of possibility.
My thought processes were interrupted when Denise screamed, “The motherfuckers are alive.”
Not only were they alive but able to jump off the table and scurry away. Denise proved she was one of those women who are absolutely fearless except when confronted by a four ounce vegetarian rodent whose only defense was to run like hell.
I proved my manliness by reaching down and scooping up one of them. Then I rushed to the corner of the room where the other was cowering and grabbed him.
“Get something to put them in,” I asked before making an observation only an experienced gerbil owner could make. “They’re both males.”
“It figures,” said Dr. Jared who had turned pale and was still shaking. She surprised me by looking at me like I wasn’t a piece of dog shit and muttering, “Thanks, Simon, I’m terrified of rodents.”
“Fucking amazing,” said Dr. Brown handing me a small cardboard box.
I taped up the box and set it aside. The rest of the autopsy was routine. Dr. Jared swabbed the vagina and rectum.
“Semen in both orifices,” announced Dr. Jared after looking in the microscope at what she’s captured.
“So she was a triple threat,” I said.
“They all are these days,” said Dr. Brown wearily as he snapped pictures of the speculums.
“Anything you can tell me about the speculums,” I asked once Dr. Brown removed them.
“Top quality, made of surgical quality steel, available from any number of medical supply houses, or you could steal them from a hospital or doctor’s office,” answered Dr. Brown.
“Or you can buy them on the Web from sites that sells medical fetish equipment,” added Dr. Jared.
That caused the Dr. Brown and I to look at Dr. Jared who looked away embarrassed. I tried to remember what Mary had told me about her best friend’s sexual life but nothing came to me.
I spent another hour making case notes as the two completed their reports and prepared blood and fluid samples for analysis by the toxicology lab. It was almost six when we finished.
***
I was half way home before I remembered I’d left my wallet in the morgue’s locker room when I changed into scrubs. “Damn it,” I yelled to the two gerbils resting in their box on the back seat as I switched on my blue lights and did a furious U-turn.
It was after six when I reached the Crime Lab. The building was dark. I quickly signed in with the guard and rushed onto the elevator. I stepped off two floors down. The place was dark with just enough indirect lighting to find my way down the hall to the Locker Room.
My wallet was right where I left it, on the top shelf. That was when I heard a noise from the Cold Room where they store the stiffs. Someone had just opened a refrigerator door and rolled out a corpse. I heard Denise tell Dr. Brown she was going to stay a while and finish up some paperwork. He’d given her a knowing look. That seemed odd but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.
I glanced out into the Cold Room from the darkness. There was Denise standing beside a rolled out body. It was a Latino kid who’d been gunned down that afternoon in a drive by on Ruggles Avenue in Roxbury. They’d tucked him away until tomorrow’s scheduled autopsy. I remember thinking what a waste. He was a good looking young man who should have been in school not standing on the sidewalk selling drugs and catching a bullet.
I was about to announce my presence when Denise turned slightly and I saw that she was nude under her lab coat. Her scrubs were folded on a table she wheeled up by the morgue tray. Curious, I stayed in the shadows. A post coital conversation with Mary Travers finally tumbled back in my head. Somehow we’d gotten onto the topic of her very best friend.
“I worry about her,” said Mary taking my slime coated cock in her hand as a preliminary step in creating an encore fuck.
“Why,” I asked making idle conversation as her warm fingers stimulated my instrument. Women always worry about their friends. It’s expected. Denise struck me as normal. She had a husband who worked at the fire department and two boys. She also had a good job.
“She has some unusual tastes in sexual partners,” said Mary working my balls with her other hand.
In spite of having already performed twice, my cock signaled a third was a distinct possibility.
“Explain that,” I said.
“Later,” said Mary as she moved down in the bed to lick body fluid off my penis.
My attempt to pursue the conversation was forestalled by Mary squirming to sixty nine where I proceeded to engage in my own version of fluid removal.
I watched as Denise removed the sheet covering Juan Carlos Ramirez who went by the street name of Smokey and belonged to Mara Salvatrucha better known as MS-13, the most brutal and savage crime gang in the nation. I’d gotten this from the officers who brought him to the morgue. They didn’t seem interested in catching the killers.
That was when Denise did something that made pulling gerbils out of Cynthia’s body cavities seem normal. She leaned over and kissed Smokey using her hands to pry open his mouth. After the kiss, she pressed her boob against his lips. I could hear her moans and sighs from where I was standing.
Luckily, there was one of the digital cameras used for autopsy pictures nearby and I picked it up without being seen. I got several shots of Denise rubbing her boobs on Smokey’s chest as she probed his mouth with her tongue.
I knew enough forensics to know bodies cool slowly, about two degrees an hour. Smokey was still warm enough to fend off rigor mortis. This is truly bizarre I told myself as Denise pulled his tongue out with forceps and proceeded to suck on it. I continued to make a photographic record of Denise’s love making as she became more stimulated. She was sucking tongue, rubbing her tits on his chest, and fingering her pussy when she climaxed. It wasn’t a quiet orgasm either. I made out a few expletives as she got herself off.
I figured she was done but like her good friend Mary she was up for an encore. She removed the sheet covering Smokey, folded it neatly and placed it on her table. Next she spent time playing with his soft cock. She pressed it against the side of her face and kissed it, even took it in her mouth for a post mortem blowjob.
She started to get seriously turned on again. I couldn’t make out what she was saying. It was mostly moans and sighs as she fondled his cock and balls.
Smokey had low hangers and Denise took advantage by squeezing one ball into the bottom of his scrotum isolating it. After she sucked on the nut for a while, she took a large syringe from a specimen pan and injected something into his nut. I cringed at the idea of taking a shot in the balls then realized the victim could care less. Then she injected the other testicle.
That was when I learned there was Viagra for the dead. Denise’s oral efforts bore amazing results. Smokey was getting an erection. In fact, it was one hell of an erection. Whatever, Denise had injected worked. He was huge. It was long and fat and the skin was stretched so tight, I thought it might explode.
After more oral, she climbed on the table straddling him. Denise closed her eyes as she took hold of his cock and guided it home. A loud, “Yes,” escaped her lips as she lowered her body burying his pole. She struggled to make it fit. As she doggedly descended you could tell it was hurting her but in a good way.
Once she had taken all of it, she started to move like one of the Latinas who service MS-13 members, an all out effort encouraged by the tendency of gang members to cut off the nose and ears of girls who show a lack of zeal. Of course, it was all one sided. Smokey was completely ignoring her efforts as she cursed, pinched her nipples and planted long probing kisses on his dead mouth. The presence of two nine millimeter holes in his chest didn’t present a problem.
The camera was a professional model and took terrific close-ups of Denise’s vagina stretched around his chemically inflated cock. She went multi-orgasmic as she fucked him.
That was when I decide revenge was in order. I slipped the memory chip out of the camera and stuck it in my pocket. From this day forward I owned Dr. Denise Jared. She would do anything to prevent her family from finding out she was a necrophiliac. She’d lose her job and possibly wind up in jail.
I decided to start my revenge by having her take care of the erection I’d acquired watching her screw Juan Carlos. I quietly undressed as she humped away.
She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice me until I put my hand on her shoulder. “You,” she screamed as she turned and recognized me.
“Be quiet and don’t move,” I said grabbing her and holding her in place.
“This isn’t what you think,” said Denise.
It was a stupid, almost comical remark. But I played it straight.
“I’ve got a memory stick loaded with camera shots of your performance,” I said.
She’d noticed I was nude. That said a lot.
“What do you want,” asked Denise looking desperate.
Desperate suited my purposes. “Let’s start with objectification and humiliation. Just keep fucking your dead guy.”
“You won’t tell anyone,” asked Denise.
“Not if you do what I say,” I said climbing onto the tray. I was on my knees straddling Smokey’s head. My balls were resting on his pink tongue.
I didn’t need to tell her to suck my cock. She figured that out on her own. She sucked my dick as she rode her dead lover’s cock. She got over my unexpected arrival and returned to lust mode.
I was still intent on lowering her self esteem. “I’m going to pee and you’re going to swallow it, Bitch,” I said placing my hand under her chin and lifting her face so she was looking me in the eye. She nodded yes and went back to sucking me off. I gave passing thought to the quality of my urine. I’d emptied Terri and her friend’s tanks hours before. Would it double in strength as it processed through my kidneys or did it make it smoother like the triple distilled vodka I preferred? I’d pissed earlier and noticed it was a deep shade of gold. Gays say strong yellow can be hard to swallow. Not my problem I decided as I released my flow.
Denise gulped it down as fast as I came up with it. Either she was an experienced water sports fan or determined to keep me happy, maybe both. The aroma of ultra strong urine filled my nostrils. It was the kind of urine you generate first thing in the morning after you’ve spent the night in a sports bar watching the Red Sox and swilling Sam Adams lager.
“That was good,” said Denise wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when I finished. Her lower lip was decorated with golden drops. She impressed me by sucking hard on my piss hole to make sure I was empty.
From the look on her face, I concluded objectification combined with humiliation was a turn on. I wonder how often hubby emptied his fire hose in Denise’s kisser. I hoped she had a tin of Altoids to take before she got home and he caught a whiff of her breath. Piss breath is a dead give away hardcore infidelity has occurred.
“You like that, Denise?” I asked slapping my cock hard against the side of her cheek. I clutched her hair to keep her head steady as I cock whipped her face. I wasn’t nice about it. She’d handed me a lot of shit and I owed her.
“I love it,” said Denise between blows. “I’m a corpse fucking whore.”
I had accidentally tapped into somebody’s hidden need for humiliation and punishment. I wasn’t sure she was sincere or just trying to please the new man in her life, the one with a memory stick full of images of her fucking a dead body.
With my bladder empty, I was ready to move on. “Juan Carlos and I are going to DP you. Tell me you want it and make me believe it.”
Denise showed her skill at dirty talk, a necessary component of good sex. “Oh God yes, fuck my ass, Simon. I want you to stick your big hard cock up my shitter. I’m nothing but a pig slut who deserves a good ass fucking. Please hurt me as you ass fuck me while my beautiful Juan Carlos fucks my pussy.”
She sucked on Juan Carlos’ tongue while I relocated to the doggie position. Denise was making cooing sounds and telling Smokey how much she loved him as I spread her buttocks and spit on her anus.
I smeared it over the hole and worked it inside. Ass fucking is not for the squeamish especially if the hole hadn’t been cleaned out recently. Terri had cleaned mine out before he and his friends fucked me. Gays and bisexuals are into douching. At home, I have a shower attachment that washes out my hole at the turn of a knob. It’s a dead give a way that I take it up the ass. But I had a sense that once my cock got inside Denise’s butt, I’d be driving a dirt road. The smell when I opened her up confirmed it.
Her butt was a tight fit for my nine inches. I attributed that to the presence of Juan Carlos’ chemically inflated member which was occupying more than its share of volume inside her body cavity. I felt his dead stiff cock pushing hard against her bowels. Denise’s fingers gripped the sides of the tray as I forced my peter down the hole. She was hurting and I was glad.
I dismissed the thought that my balls were slapping up against Smokey’s and his legs felt cold between my thighs. Once I had established full anal penetration, I grabbed a handful of Denise’s hair for leverage and began slamming her. Whimpers of pain punctuated by loud moans were pleasing to my ears.
I reached around with my free hand, grabbed her nipple and executed a pinch and twist maneuver that delivered maximum pain. Juan Carlos’ mouth muffled her scream. I brutalized her tit as I fucked her ass.
All the butt action had pumped some of her rectum’s contents to the surface. I ran two fingers around her anus coating them brown. Then I reached forward and drew a Dirty Sanchez on her upper lip. There’s nothing that says I love you more than having your lover finger paint a thick layer of shit under your nostrils.
I pushed my shit stained fingers into her mouth and she sucked them. Denise was definitely hard core but what else would you expect from a necrophiliac.
I regretted I didn’t have a friend there to take her image for posterity’s sake. Quality images of a Dirty Sanchez are rare.
I needed a bit more revenge so I recoated my fingers with the brown oozing out around my cock and stuck them in her mouth. She cooed her approval as she sucked them clean. Denise combined scat queen with zombie love, a rare combination.
Sensing my load was about to surface, I made an executive decision. I pulled my cock out of her ass and frog marched over her back and turned around without falling off the tray and injuring myself.
“Suck it clean, you shit licking whore,” I said presenting my chocolate coated manhood to her lips.
The fact that my penis was covered with a quarter inch of her feces didn’t faze her. Denise licked and sucked like it was one of those chocolate pudding cups kids carry in their school lunches. I took hold of the sides of her head and fucked her mouth until my spunk had left the building.
I carefully climbed off the tray feeling spent. It had been a long day. I’d begun with a wake up fuck with Darlene and her sister. Mid day I’d been down on all fours being screwed by Terri and company. I wasn’t quite sure whether I had just participated in a threesome or a two plus cadaver. I used Denise’s scrubs to wipe my cock off.
While I got dressed, she slowly climbed off Juan Carlos. She took a wet rag and wiped him down. Then she carefully replaced the sheet. Right before she slid him back into the drawer she kissed him on the lips and whispered, “Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels see thee to thy rest.” Hamlet, I thought, maybe not. I’m no scholar.
I dressed quickly and headed for the door.
“Simon,” yelled Denise as I reached the exit.
“Yes, Dr. Jared,” I said turning around to face her. I smiled because her mouth was still smeared with shit
“Call me,” said Denise misinterpreting my smile.
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