Cindy the Sinner

To many, her death was not too terribly tragic. The youngest child of the town’s wealthiest family, Cindy was well known for all manner of debauchery at the sprawling mansion. Too few found it surprising when she was discovered dead at the age of twenty-six.

I first met Cindy when my Uncle sent me out to collect her corpse. I was surprised–having been a coroner in the city before my own brush with death, I expected in such circumstances an autopsy would be done–but according to Uncle, when your only living relative is the Governor, and he’s not too keen to have your autopsy discover illicit drugs as a cause of death, autopsies generally get ignored.

The manor that Cindy had called home was empty save for the servants. Over a hundred rooms had been used for her parties, and orgies–so the tales went. The only one I saw was the room in which she died.

She had been left undisturbed after being discovered. Her passing had been recent, as rigor hadn’t set in. there were no signs that anyone had been sharing Cindy’s bed, or drugs that night, so I suspect that her brother’s hunch was right–the heroin on the nightstand had been her exit.

It couldn’t have been all bad however. Though she lay sprawled and tangled in her sheets–the white silk stained yellow around her crotch–there was a peaceful composure to her–and almost angelic look on her face. Normally, I would close the corpse’s eyes, but this time, the haunting, faded blue orbs called for me to keep them open, to allow them to stare beyond the physical world for a little longer.

I pulled back the urine soaked sheets, exposing her neatly trimmed pubic hair. She was stunning. Long and lean, she had taken great pride and obvious care in her body. Her breasts were not large, but neither were they small and they jiggled slightly as I arranged the corpse’s limbs. Cindy’s only apparent concession to an unhealthy lifestyle–save for the drugs, alcohol and sex of course–was a small tummy bulge which hid her abdominal muscles. There was something maddeningly erotic about how that belly, topped with a piercing, gently curved upward from the beautiful symmetrical breasts, only to quickly sweep down to the barely concealed lips of her womanhood.