jacobyphoenix

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Oct 8, 2008
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hell's kitchen
On Th Job Training (mm, necro)
By: Loch Raveena (lraveena@hotmail.com)

When Mark was offered a job at the morgue in the
hospital's basement, he reluctantly accepted. He
needed a job for spending money while in college,
and Burger King was no longer an option.

Mark refused to work fast food again. He was 21 now,
and it was time for some kind of respectable job
even if it was part-time.

He found that he actually enjoyed working there. He
made a couple of friends - surprisingly. There was
another guy his age working at the morgue. Phil, 20,
was hired a few months before Mark and had trained
him on the job. There wasn't much to do really. They
stripped the bodies, cleaned them, and laid them out
for the doctors. They could refuse to do the really
gory ones - the doctors didn't mind. The helpers were
young and the doctors realized that many times the
job would be unpleasant.

The chief doctor was an understanding fellow and he
protected the college helpers from having to see
anything really messy. Nobody who wasn't a mortician
or rescue worker needed to see anything like that.

They didn't even allow them to be present during an
autopsy, although they did allow them to help in
preparation and in performing initial medical ex-
aminations.

Mark enjoyed the abdominal biopsies the most. He was
allowed to perform the tests himself. It entailed
plunging a long thin needle into the belly buttons
of the bodies to extract fluids for testing. It
allowed a close-up examination of navels of all
kinds of people - each one was different and intricate
and waiting to be explored - males and females, innies
and outties, and in-between navels that could be
regarded as either.

Phil liked the eyes. The dead staring eyes of his
patients awed him. Even if the eyes were closed, the
fact that he could open them and they remained open
excited him. The eyes, too, were always different
though many often stared off with the same expression
of indifference.

Both college students liked their patients to be at
least a little older than themselves. A few times a
dead young man or woman was brought in, killed in
some violent act or accident. The intimacy of handling
their bodies made both a little uneasy, especially
when they realized that there was little difference
between them and the patient. It made their jobs seem
all the more real - and that was unwelcome, given the
nature of their work.

It made them uneasy precisely because it was also
exhilarating. One night a young man was brought in,
dead of a gunshot wound to the chest. He was 24 and
slender, about the same height and weight as Phil
and Mark. Dried blood caked the corners of his mouth.
His emerald eyes were wide open and staring without
expression.

Phil pointed a pen-light into them and examined them,
taking notes. Mark lifted the kid's T-shirt and placed
a long thin needle into his sleek belly, pressing with
increasing force until the needle punctured through
the shallow and pink belly button. He could feel the
needle driving inside the young male's body with his
hand. The needle passed through a nerve causing the
dead body to twitch once.

With the needle deep inside and Mark imagining that
it was in his own belly, he extracted a drop of red-
yellow fluid from the boy's stomach. When he withdrew
the needle, he intentionally did it slowly, listening
to the sound of the needle being withdrawn.

Next, they cut the boy's clothes off with scissors,
exposing his athletic body from head to toe. Mark
used a sponged and wiped the entire smooth and
hairless body down, from chest to toes, while Phil
did the head, staring into his dead green eyes the
entire time.

Mark was surprised to see white fluid leaking from the
boy's penis, which was fully extended. Mark pointed
this out to Phil who stated matter-of-factly that most
young males ejaculate upon death.

Mark's blue eyes became distant as he pondered that.

Some time later a 20-year old youth was brought in
with a knife protruding from his navel. He had bright
orange hair that was cropped short, and his friendly
eyes stared widely up at the ceiling with eyebrows
raised in surprise. He was dressed in baggy jeans that
had slipped below his hips and a cut-off athletic
T-shirt.

Mark and Phil both dressed pretty much the same way
when they weren't working. The kid was a night clerk
in some store when a drugged-up assailant stabbed him.

Mark conducted the abdominal biopsy in the upper
stomach while Phil examined the boy's brown eyes.
Again, they cut the clothes off with scissors and
both instantly saw the white fluid leaking out of
his erect penis.

Mark pulled on the blade, slightly arching the boy's
body. It refused to budge at first, but then suddenly
gave way, the blade coming out with a sticky wet
sound. Some blood bubbled out of the small wound and
more white fluid leaked out of the boy's dick.

Mark had to stop and force himself to breathe, his
hands gripping the gurney as dizziness hit, and then
passed.

He couldn't handle this anymore, he realized. He no
longer slept at night. When he closes his eyes, the
dead bodies always came into focus. In his dreams,
they twitched and jerked with each sensual touch,
overwhelming him with a profound sexual tension that
caused him to collapse in convulsions of ecstasy.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Phil's lingering dark
eyes staring into his with a pen-light, turning his
head this way and that, as other hands cut the clothes
off of his slender body until he was naked. Suddenly,
a needle was plunged into his shallow and pink navel,
the point striking deeper and deeper while his dead
staring eyes saw Phil and another guy taking note of
his stiff cock, both of them smiling in wonder, even
jiggling it a little.

Then he would awake struggling to catch his breath as
though he had been under water for hours.

Mark's life was beginning to be impacted by this job,
this nightmare. His grades were dropping and he had
broken off his relationship with his girlfriend. He
was getting drunk with his friends at night, but then
he grew distant when he imagined his own young friends
lying helplessly on the gurney, their eyes staring off
aimlessly, their slender bellies waiting to be probed.

Then he started to drink alone, and that's never a
good thing. He tried to drink himself to sleep. It was
time to quit.

Quit, yes, thought Mark, sitting at a bar. Tomorrow,
I'll quit. He grinned. "What are you laughing at,
asshole?" Someone from across the bar asked menacingly.

Mark turned away, ignoring the drunken cowboy on the
other side. Mark downed another shot and turned to
walk out. He was blocked by a grinning young redneck
with tattooed arms. "Are you deaf, asshole?" The guy
punched Mark in the mouth, drawing blood.

Mark could see the man lying on a gurney in his
morgue, his body naked and still, his eyes staring,
his belly button being probed by a long thin needle,
his sex lazily leaking thick white fluid. Mark was
saddened by this image but he humorously realized that
the fate he had just envisioned awaited the young
redneck unless somewhat set him straight.

So set him straight he did, punching the guy in the
gut and letting loose on his face. His fury was so
swift and sudden that it took the 250-pound bouncer
to subdue him, the young redneck staggering away in
confusion and defeat.
 
The bouncer picked up the young firebrand who had
defended himself with admirable agility and threw him
out the door and into the parking lot. "Good night!"
said the bouncer, and the redneck and his friends came
flying out next.

"You're a fucking dead man!" spit out the redneck to
Mark. Mark slowly got up from the pavement and brushed
himself off as the redneck walked to a pick-up truck,
reached in and pulled something out, and then started
walking back. His two friends stood watching Mark
without expression.

Mark knew what was in his hand as he walked toward him
but his feet were planted. It was like a dream, things
were happening in slow motion. The guy outstretched his
arm and Mark knew what was coming next.

"Eat lead!" the redneck screamed. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Though Mark knew what was coming, no one could be have
prepared for the sudden impact and pain. Three bullets
struck Mark in and near his sternum, in his mid-section
and he flew backwards to the ground like a rag doll,
blood exploding into his mouth and bursting out of it,
washing down his cheek, his eyes and mouth opening
wide in pain and shock and surprise, his sleek body
unbelievably kicking and jerking and arching, his
baggy jeans slipping below his waist and his T-shirt
riding up to middle section.

Through the pain and shock Mark felt his manhood come
alive and burst in orgasm, firing volley after volley
as his body contorted and convulsed.

Mark's eyes clouded over and he became still, his eyes
still wide open and staring, blood leaking from the
corner of his mouth and nostrils and down his boyish
cheek. The three rednecks stood gawking at the now-dead
boy staring back at them without expression, his
slender body motionless, his shallow oval and pink
navel peeking out from under his T-shirt, his boxers
resting just below his slender hips.

One of the rednecks turned and vomited and...

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

All three rednecks suddenly lay thrashing about on the
ground, coughing and gurgling. The one who vomited
before now vomited blood and went still. Another groped
his stomach, his shirt riding up to his chest exposing
his torso, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
His body quivered from head to toe and went still, his
eyes staring.

The one who had started it all lay helplessly on the
ground, coughing up blood and gurgling, his body
twitching oddly. He, too, went still, his eyes staring,
blood leaking out of his nose and mouth.

The bouncer and bar patrons stood in the crowd looking
at the four bodies. The bouncer had seen dead bodies
before and he was always amazed at how slender stomachs
always managed to be exposed to the elements, mouths
and eyes open, any indications of inhibition complete-
ly absent.

The next morning Phil came in to work early to find
four new clients. The clipboard indicated that they
were all young males, ages 19, 21, 22, and 22. Mark
didn't make it into work so Phil began examining the
bodies by himself, mindful that Mark would be disap-
pointed having missed this bonanza. Phil knew that
Mark enjoyed performing those abdominal biopsies,
taking his time like he did.

The first body had dark brown eyes that stared off
without expression. He was slender and youthful with
a bullet hole in his chest. Phil examined the eyes
with a pen-light, losing himself in their gaze. Next
he performed the biopsy, sinking the needle into the
boy's intricate web of a navel, slowly like Mark did.
Too bad, his loss, thought Phil, enjoying this proce-
dure more than he liked to admit.

He cut off the boy's clothes next and washed the body
with a sponge, taking note of the sperm on the boy's
lower abdomen and underwear.

He did the same with next two bodies, their faces
angelic in youth and death, their eyes open, both of
them with incredible protruding outtie belly buttons.
One of them had a bullet wound just to the left of
his belly button and it appeared that the bullet had
somehow made the outtie protrude a little further.
These two were the first outties Phil had seen in
here, he thought, his hand reaching down and rubbing
his own protruding navel, causing pleasant sensations.

Phil waited a little while before starting on the last
body. When it was apparent that Mark wasn't coming in,
though, he lifted the sheet covering the fourth body.

Phil froze. The crystal clear blue eyes of Mark, his
friend and co-worker, stared back at him with a mixture
of surprise and indifference. His mouth was slightly
ajar, a dried trickle of blood caking his friend's
cheek.

Phil became dizzy and stood still, catching his breath,
not believing what he saw. He had to force himself to
remove the sheet entirely and look at Mark's dead
athletic body.

Mark's shirt was crumpled a bit, his shallow pink and
youthful navel exposed beneath it, his baggy jeans
resting below his slender pale hips.

Phil's heart began to race. The two had discussed one
night what they would do if the other turned up there
dead some time. Phil got hard during that conversation,
and Mark did too, he had noticed.

Phil got his penlight and looked deeply into Mark's
ocean blue eyes. He spent nearly a half-hour staring
into them, his heart racing, his mind wondering, his
cock aching.

Next he plunged the long needle into Mark's incredibly
shallow belly button, ever so slowly, driving it in
deeper, knowing that Mark would have immensely enjoyed
this if it had been Phil lying there on the table. He
extracted a red-yellow substance from Mark's stomach
and slowly withdrew the needle, listening to it, feel-
ing it.

Next Phil cut Mark's clothes off his body. The final
cutting was of his boxer shorts, and while removing
them, he watched thick globs of semen spill lazily out
of Mark's stiff swollen dick.

It was too much for Phil. He fell to the ground, his
body wracked by the spontaneous explosive orgasm be-
traying his own body arousal.

Phil's breathing grew harsh and he couldn't quite
catch his breath. He quickly broke out into a sweat
and he fumbled about for stability.

Afterwards he stood over Mark's body, swaying a bit.
Mark looked completely helpless lying there naked,
his eyes opened wide and glistening in the light, his
back slightly ajar pushing his slender belly out a
bit.

Phil took a sponge and lovingly washed Mark's sleek
hard body, his eyes taking in every single detail of
Mark's youthful corpse.

The dizziness came back and Phil staggered towards a
wastebasket and vomited. He tried to regain his com-
posure, but his stomach seemed as though it were on
fire and his whole body was about to be consumed by
it. He desperately tried to remove his hospital gear,
ripping off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, but
he was certain he was going to burst into flames at
any second.

Phil tore through the medical cabinets and found
morphine. He filled the needle he used to probe Mark's
belly and plunged it into his own bulging belly
button. "Ahhhhh," he said, his eyes opening wide with
the rush of the drug, the pain subsiding and the
coolness spreading.

Phil staggered towards Mark and cradled his naked
body, his mind growing numb. After a few minutes,
Mark slipped from Phil's grip and fell back to the
gurney. Phil stood groggy, then stumbled backwards.
His skinny body drooping somewhat. Phil laid back on
the gurney beside Mark's body and began shuddering.
His eyes opened wide as the morphine continued to
drain from the needle still protruding from his
belly button. He lifted his head and saw the needle
in his stomach and said "oh." His head dropped back
with a thud. His small stomach panted, but the eyes
glazed over. A series of spasms wracked his body
then, and Phil lay dead, eyes dulled and staring,
mouth gaping, the needle protruding from his outtie
ball of a belly button, his erect penis spurting his
seed uselessly, spreading the molten fluid inside
his underwear, to cool against his dead body.
 
How it's gonna be. Nice. Let's do it. Let's hear about it.
A thousand words gives me more than a picture.
It gave me juice for three.
 
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