The House Of Lemons

Loving The Dead


By: Silent Death


A.N. I want you to know, I had one hell of a time writing this. I don’t want to make it sad. My objective is to make you sick, if not just make you laugh your ass off. It will be gross. You have been warned. The title says it all. I am doing this for Halloween. Just a small something. May you all have a happy one! BTW I will not be posting anything here next weekend. I am going to be posting a chapter for The Arrangement. I want to finish it up so I can work on In Under Deep. I only have four more chapters to go on TA. Enjoy!


Disclaimer: I no own….I no make money….I am still a struggling single mom. I just like to make the characters do gross and messed up things.

Its typical create a world

A special place of my design

To never cope or never care

Just use the key cause he’s alone

Vitamin R, Chevelle


Summary: Miroku works at a funeral home. He is a mortician. Lets just say he loves his job….


“Here is your next one, Miroku.” Inuyasha nonchalantly pushed a metal table in the cold bare room. A thick velvet sheet carelessly draped over a body. A lone box rested at the feet of the corpse.

Miroku turned towards his longtime friend and offered him a wide grin. “Inuyasha! What do you have for me today?”

Inuyasha looked at Miroku with a suspicious gaze. The man liked his job too much. For him, the place stunk to high heavens. The chemicals used did nothing for your personal smell. It stuck to you and when people say you smell of the dead…you do. If it wasn’t for the great pay, Inuyasha would have never gotten into this business. Just looking at a stiff made him queasy. What did Miroku see in this job anyway? Hell, sometimes they would get bodies so messed up in the face, the man had to reconstruct it. After that, he would have to work miracles on the makeup. Miroku is the best out there. He was highly recommended when it came to making your loved one look good.

“I have a twenty three year old female. She needs just the regular job. Nothing to fancy.” Inuyasha offered with just a wave of his right hand.

“Well, bring her over.” Miroku replied with a cheerful grin.

Inuyasha wheeled the table over until it stopped just short of Miroku. From there, the mortician took over and positioned the corpse to where he liked his next job to be. Miroku pulled the thick velveteen blanket back until it rested on the paled deceased shoulders. What he saw made his breath hitch in his throat. If she were still alive, the woman would have been a true goddess. Now she would only pass as the goddess of the dead. From being put in a room designed to preserve her body, her skin held a dull and stiff look. As he ran his fingers over her cold cheek, it failed to give like normal skin. Instead the thick flesh only shifted from the added pressure against it. Her eye sockets were sunk in and her lips a lovely shade of blue. Even in death, Miroku enjoyed the beauty she possessed.

Miroku’s face softened as he looked upon her. “What is her name?”

Inuyasha scrunched his face in disgust. This was just to gross. How could Miroku even look at her like.... that? Shaking his head he answered. “Her name is Sango Hunter. Her dress is in the box and it is low cut.”

“Aw,” Miroku breathed with awe, “a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Man, you are gross! Stop ogling over her and just do your fucking job.” Inuyasha bit out as he turned on his heel and walked back to the thick metal door.

Miroku watched him leave and shifted his gaze back to Sango. “One moment, my dear. I need to go and lock the door. I don’t like to be disturbed while I do my magic.”

Miroku walked over to the door and latched it shut. He then turned on his heel and closed the distance between them. He stepped over to the small stainless steel table and opened up a black metal box. Pulling out two cotton balls, he turned back to the dead woman and gently lifted up one eyelid. He could see her sunken in eye. The orb seemed to shine back at him. The pupil was dilated and you could see the deep brown it once was. Whoever said the eye lost its sheen had never looked into the eyes of the dead. They still contained a glossy appearance. There was one thing different, though. They held no life. Their vibrance lacked. As if you could really tell the soul was gone. Maybe it is true. Maybe the eyes are the windows to the soul.

He put the small wade of cotton under the fleshy lid and lowered it back in place, shifting the lid around until it looked like her real eye, only closed. Miroku repeated this process with the other eye until they looked even. He then went and pulled out a bottle of actor’s foundation. Appling some on his on fingertips, he started rubbing some on Sango’s cool forehead, blending the makeup into her skin. The affect was immediate. The more he smeared, the more her skin looked warm and alive. Miroku moved down to her chin, then to her neck and shoulders. Her dress was low on the shoulders and needed to make her exposed skin look normal.

After he finished this, Miroku went straight for the blush. This required some talent. Not all morticians could pull this off. Sure anyone could put blush on, but the way he did it, the skin looked like a natural blush. Like it came when the person was at rest and felt just a tad bit warm. The finished affect made Sango appear slightly aroused. More and more the corpse came to life under his morbid talent.

“What color to put on your lids…,” Miroku wondered aloud, “Cant put something too dark, or too bright. You seem like a person who could wear something in-between the two.”

He dug around in his box again and finally came to a conclusion. Withdrawing his hand, Miroku reviled a small compact with medium gray and dark pink. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘this will do.’ He pulled out a small foam brush and rubbed it in the dark pink. Once satisfied he had the amount desired on it, he smeared some on her lower lid.

“Yes, this color suits you very nicely, my dear Sango.” Miroku complimented.

He then went back to the compact and retrieved the gray color to blend on the upper lid, making the look complete. “brilliant,” he breathed.

To complete the over all work of art, Miroku pulled out a tube of pink lipstick and gently smeared the color on to her full lips, making them seem warm, not the cold blue like it was. He pulled back, gazing on his perfect job and was totally taken by her beauty. Oh, if he could have met her before she died. How wonderful she would have been on his arm.

“To bad such beauty was lost.” Miroku gently sighed with a small shake of his head. He pulled the black dress out of the thin paper box Inuyasha brought in with him and pulled it out. It came to her ankles if she were standing. The material was soft under his calloused fingers and he wondered what it would have felt like if the fabric was warmed by her living warmth. He placed it down beside the metal box and went back to getting her ready. He slipped the blanket down the rest of the way and folded it at the end of the platform Sango rested on.

Miroku’s breath hitched as he gazed upon her uncovered body. Starting with her manicured toes, only hinted with paleness and blue, he ran his eyes over the daintiness of her feet and up to the sculptured form of her calves. Sango’s knees was perfect for connecting her lower leg to the top firm shape of her thighs. Damn, she had nice thighs. One could only imagine who they would look wrapped around his slender waist. Her glorious thighs connected with her curve of her hips in divine rapture. Definitely child bearing hips. Also good to grasp onto when slamming his hard cock into her wet, hot core. The thought alone made him aroused.

Moving on to her narrow waist, Miroku marveled how tiny it was. It must have been nineteen inches around. Not many women had such a sculpted look to themselves. Her upper torso held his interests the most. Her breasts were the sign of perfection and it was obvious she were athletic. Her skin formed like a tight glove over her well defined muscles. Even in death, the woman held her curvy shape.

Miroku couldn’t help but feel his arousal stiffen. The goddess that laid before him showed an abundance of beauty and feminine sex-appeal that, he, Miroku couldn’t help but want. He looked up into her now living-looking face and lowered his warm lips to her cold ones. Their lips melded together and formed perfect union. Miroku wanted so badly to slide his tongue into her mouth, to taste what he could only imagine to be her sweet taste, but he could only dream about it. Her jaws were stiff, openable, but stiff. He ran his hand over her cool cheeks and down to her long neck. His fingers played with the flesh, unconsciously wanting to warm her flesh.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Miroku registered this woman to be dead. The smell of her was proof alone. But he shoved that thought way to the back of the dark corners of his mind. Miroku passed his feeble attempt to warm her and continued his way down to her lovely shaped shoulders. He lifted his mouth and softly kissed the same path his fingers took, giving soft kisses and gentle nips. Her skin tasted like a combination of salty bitterness. Miroku wondered what Sango’s true flavor would have been. He rubbed his chest against hers. The feel her firm breasts further excited him and he moved his hands down to the perfectly round orbs. Her cool skin felt nice against his fingers he decided and he squeeze them, enjoying how the toughened skin held its shape.

Miroku took a nipple in each hand. He tweaked and pulled them until the fleshy pecks molded into perfect points. “Even in death, my sweet Sango, you still respond to my touch.” He smirked against her neck with sick fascination.

He moved down to her now stiff nipple and started warming it with his mouth. The action gave him pleasure at how cold her skin felt. When Miroku removed his mouth, her peck was lower due to the tiny patch of skin warmed by his hot cavity. His hands wondered down to her waist and Miroku marveled at how well his long fingers fit perfectly around the curve and he gave her a gentle squeeze to show his appreciation to the dead woman.

“My how perfect you feel.” Miroku sighed out.

He rubbed his cheek along her chilled breasts, loving the sensation it gave him. Miroku straightened himself back up and started unbuttoning his shirt. He needed to feel her cool skin against his own heat. He needed to feel how her breasts would slide down his nicely built pecks. Tossing the material to the floor, Miroku mounted the table and let a low masculine sigh pass his parted lips as his now burning flesh rubbed on Sango’s much cooler torso.

“By the Gods,” he gasped, “you feel so good. So cool and refreshing.”

Miroku pressed his lips back to hers, wishing they would swell under his assault. His breath started coming at a faster pace, soon forcing him to pull back form his actions to take a much needed breath. His hot breath fanned over her face, giving brief warmth to it. Miroku’s pants became very uncomfortable from the stiff shaft wanting to break free of its restraint. He pressed it to her cool thighs to relieve some of the pressure.

He ran his hands down her arms, stopping at her once delicate fingers. He worked his way between them and clasped around her stiffened digits tightly. Oh how he was going to enjoy this. Miroku released one hand and ran it over her tight stomach, loving the feel of the flatness and how her navel sunk in perfectly. He traced the dentation and then continued the rest of the way down to the soft curls that nested there.

“So soft, so curly,” he purred out as he placed one last peck to her cheek.

Miroku withdrew his other hand from hers and rested it on a hip. He then took his other hand and worked it into her cool nether lips. He found her button and rubbed it. He couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped his lips. “Why am I bothering, Sango? As much as I would like to return this pleasure, you cant appreciate it.”

He hoped back off the table and went to the metal box. He reached in and pulled out a bottle of petroleum jelly. Normally Miroku would use this for when he needed to reconstruct something, but right now it would serve as lubricant. He quickly disposed of his pants, freeing his erection to the cooled air in the room. Miroku took no notice. He was used to the cold. Worked in it day in and day out. Taking his time to climb back on the table, Miroku straddled her legs, feeling a small chill run down his spin with the constricting temperature differences, and opened the jar. He took out a good amount of goop and then placed it to her core again. Miroku worked the jelly between Sango’s nether lips and worked to her cool entrance.

Once he felt satisfied they were lubed enough, Miroku moved to her legs. Testing them, and finding out they were stiffer than he liked, Miroku placed his one leg over one of hers for support and moved an arm up under her other knee. With some work, and a popping noise, he got her hip to move so he could place his other leg between hers. He repeated the same process with the other leg and rested his lower body between her legs.

“Now, if you were still alive,” he said with a lecherous smirk, “You will really enjoy what I am about to do to your body. You may be cold, but I will warm up your dead body.”

With that, Miroku slowly pressed his thick mushroom head into her now slicked core. He hissed at how cold she felt to his hot shaft. Her entrance squeezed him as he continued his motion. Soon he was up to the hilt inside of her cold sheath and could only moan his approval. Miroku tightened his grip around her knees and began slow and steady strokes into Sango’s body. His pants filled the room as he moved in and out of her body in morbid lust. A light amount of sweat started to form on his body in the cold metal room. She felt so good, so tight…..and he told her so.

“Damn, Sango!” Miroku panted, his speed starting to increase along with the acceleration of his breathing, “You feel so good, so tight! I am going to fuck you so good!”

He clenched his teeth as he pounded into her. All care of having intercourse with a corpse free from his mind. Besides, she wasn’t so cold anymore. Her core was becoming warm now from his own fiery heat. Soon flesh hitting flesh filled the room and grunting followed with each slapping sound. He shifted his gaze down at her breasts, putting more force so he could watch them bounce from the fucking she was getting.

Miroku could feel himself getting close. The tension in his sack started tightening, getting ready to spew forth his living seed, only to be deposited into something dead….something lifeless. Through clenched teeth, Miroku groaned out relief as he shot hot cum into her deceased womb, filling her full of his essence.

“Gods, Sango,” Miroku breathed as he collapsed onto her body, his breath coming out in fast, uncontrolled shots. “That was the best fuck I have had yet.”

He laid there, still inside of her, resting his full weight on her body, knowing she wouldn’t complain. When Miroku finally caught his breath, he lifted up and gazed upon her emotionless face. His body felt cool do to his light perspiration. Deciding he needed to hurry and finish getting her ready, Miroku leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to her lips and moved away from her parted legs. He slowly dressed himself and made sure he looked presentable.

Once he finished himself, Miroku went back to the corpse and started the job of cleaning her up. He had to reapply some of her makeup and fixed up her hair so it would frame her lovely face. He bent to her spread legs and wiped up his cum and lubricant. After that, Miroku had to straighten Sango’s legs. Putting on her dress proved to be a small chore, but it didn’t bother him. This only allowed him to steal more caresses on her breasts and nicely shaped backside.

After he finished this, Miroku stepped back and took in his work of art. Sango looked so divine, laying there in her black dress. It showed much cleavage. “To bad you were not able to enjoy that,” Miroku casually said as he started to pack up the supplies he pulled out, “You really gave me much pleasure. I just wish you could have received some yourself.”

When he was satisfied everything was back in place, Miroku walked to the door and unlatched it. “Inuyasha!” He called out, “She is ready to be placed in the coffin!”

Hearing a gruff reply from Inuyasha, Miroku walked back to the dead body. “Thank you for the lovely ride, Sango. You wont be forgotten.”

He patted her shoulder and left the room. A grumbling could be heard from his stomach. It was time for lunch. Now what was he going to have?


Fin


*Silent Death sits in front of her computer laughing her ass off.* So Rin, is that dark and morbid enough for you? *Evil Grin*


Happy Halloween!!!!!