The tech didn’t care and the dead girl certainly didn’t either. Tossing the clipboard into a small holder on the side of the cart, the technician wheeled Saema’s body down a different route than the one they had taken her through in this crypt before. Here, the man pushed her through a couple large storage areas filled with the bodies of all sorts of people awaiting their autopsy, their toe-tagged feet sticking out of the cold, dark drawers, bringing her to a different set of double-doors that they then passed through. Here, after traveling down a dark, white-walled corridor, they reached a Hardcore larger room that seemed to be the autopsy prep area. Saema’s cart was parked near the edge of a row of gurneys upon which other corpses that would soon be autopsied were lying. The tech responsible for preparing her body began by pulling off the plastic tarp that had covered her all this time and tossed it aside into a disposal bin. Saema now lay stark naked in the room for all present to see, her nipples stiff and erect in the cold air, her flesh now quite paler than it was when she was first brought in, her pretty brown eyes now glossed over, yet still staring blankly at the tiled ceiling. He took her hands and dropped them at her sides, her fingers rather stiff and somewhat balled up, but her arms straight against her side, rear, and legs. From a bin on a steel table somewhere behind her head, he grabbed a blank toe tag, this time a blue color with different fields on it, and placed it under her heels, which he adjusted so that her feet were touching, the toes pointing at a 45-degree angle into the room. Next to her on another gurney lay the body of the Asian heart-attack victim from when she was brought in. His flaccid penis was limp and lying off its side, balanced by his greying pubic hairs. His body tone was rather unremarkable, his gut a bit heavy-set, and his face revealed an air of resignation. His wife and eldest daughter had requested an autopsy to verify that it was the heart attack that killed him. Across from Saema, a familiar pair of feet with bright green toe nails pointed towards the middle of the room. A single toe-tag hung from the teen’s succulent right big toe, while a female morgue tech was filling out a second toe-tag, noting that the cause of the young girl’s demise had been sudden and massive internal bleeding from a ruptured anal superior vena cava during the collision that also took her step-mother’s life. Her abdomen and chest were wide open, her glistening intestines, stomach, and liver clearly visible. Her nipples were folded all the way back and touching the cold metal of the steel slab, the front plating of her ribcage now a bloody mass of bone and tissue laying in a tray and waiting to be put back in. A young pathologist’s assistant was behind her, getting some stitching to begin the process of closing her back up. The girl’s mouth still lay agape, her eyes half-opened and staring into nothing, a bloody cut in her head above her eyebrows marking the edge of where her skullcap had been opened up during her autopsy. Finally, Saema’s cart began to move once more, being pushed past the bodies laying in this room and through a set of double doors. The doors opened into a large autopsy room, one of three that the Medical Examiner’s Office had on-sight. The room was massive: with sixteen autopsy stations in this one room alone, proper staffing was the only thing holding the office back from conducting and completing more exams in a day’s time. In fact, despite the large facility and the theoretical ability to process a large number of corpses, the LA County Coroner only had an average-sized staff. Budget cutbacks and the fact that many people who were hired in various roles often ended up not working out kept the team smaller. Thus, during particularly busy times, despite the physical size of the facility, it was easy for there to be too many corpses to gay deal with at any one given time, making it so that a bear body’s stay at the morgue ended up being longer than some families would like. The tech wheeled her over to Autopsy Station #6 where, with the help of the Pathologist’s Assistant that was assigned to her case, grabbed her by her feet and slung her over onto the cold metal autopsy slab. The Assistant took the blank toe tag off of the cart and nodded as the tech wheeled the empty gurney away, then glanced at the girl’s pale, cold, and nude corpse as he began to look over the paperwork from her case. A crack could be heard from the slab next to her as the skullcap was removed from her neighboring corpse. The threesome body next to her was that of a 33-year-old transgendered woman, who had a very nice, feminine build with full breasts and curvy hips, yet who still possessed a penis. The girl’s penis was limp and flaccid, lying to the side against the shaven flesh of her pubic region. Her chest and abdominal cavity were completely opened up, her well-tanned arioli pressing firmly against the cold steel of the slab. Her ribcage had been sawed away, leaving a mostly empty cavity now. “And worth every second.” "Cunts! Carissa had already applied the anal local anaesthetic to his left and had begun work with splints and gay scalpel. He set me free. Penetrated. I fear... This move gave Deepak the leverage which he was hoping for. He was too hard threesome and his dick was too long; she pulled his shorts and boxers down until bear his boner popped straight up. She even reached down and started stroking my member. You’re the president.” I retorted. “Oh, fuck that’s so good,” she gasped, her breath Hardcore taken away. There was an account of a young woman, the one that I had the picture of who had died of an unexpected cerebral hemorrhage a number of years ago. I commented.