Jane Doe (my favorite) - Sex Stories

Jane Doe (my favorite)

... and close of a door. They stopped near her head. She clearly heard one of them say, "This is it." A moment later, there was a click and shards of unexpected light blazed into her eyes, sending stabs of pain along her optic nerve into her brain. She tried to blink, but couldn't. A loud clack of metal on metal was followed by an abrupt jerk that set her in motion with the sound of metal rollers. Her vision was an opaque blur of greenish tinged light. The motion and sound stopped with a small bump. A searing pain ripped through her neck. One of the voices said, "Here she is Detective, the Jane Doe from the club." Her mind tried to wrap itself around this sudden and unsettling chain of events. Why was there a Detective here? What did he mean by 'Jane Doe'? Where the fuck was she? A deeper sense of dread began to build in her. She realized the greenish tint to the light was caused by its filtering through a sheet covering her face. She screamed, but again there was no sound. Voice one asked, "Help me get her on the gurney, would you?" He counted '3' and suddenly she felt herself being moved sideways with another metal on metal sound. Every bump was agony, forgotten as the shock of what she heard next sunk in. The Detective asked, "Cause of death?" Voice one replied, "Preliminary exam is broken neck, severing of the spinal cord at the 3rd and 4th vertebrae." The green lifted from her eyes, her view changed to an institutional style ceiling with fluorescent lights. In her ...

... peripheral vision, she could make out the two men standing over her. One wore a suit, the other a lab coat. Terror ripped through her as he leaned across the table and she read the patch on his coat. It said 'Coroner'. An abrupt jerk accompanied by a fresh blast of pain cut through her rising panic long enough for her body to be turned to one side. Her head rolled limply, her mind reeling between pain and unheard screams. Horror and pain fought for and exchanged supremacy. The heat from his hands, so intense it almost burned, was a shock to her cold skin. His grip tightened and he moved her head so the Detective could see where her neck was broken. She couldn't decide which was worse, the pain it caused or the sound of her shattered bones grinding wetly into each other and traveling through her skull. The Detective looked on, making some notes in a small spiral notepad. He commented, "We looked all through the club, but couldn't find any I.D. on this one." Without looking up, the Coroner asked, "I assume you tried running her prints?" "Yeah" the Detective replied, and added, "We got nothing. No criminal record, nothing through DMV. Just a dead hooker with no name." The Coroner grunted his agreement and remarked, "There's no evidence of d**g use, no needle marks. Actually this one's pretty healthy looking." He lowered her head back onto the table, a fresh round of sparks exploded in her neck, continuing as she was rolled back to her original position, staring into the fluorescents. ...