Hot Summer Job/Prep the corpse
It's hard to work through your nerves. Sure, your sis is all but giving herself to you but it's all unspoken, under the guise of this game, and you'd rather not break this magical spell by pushing the wrong button or saying the wrong thing. So you glance about trying to find something to keep the game going, and perhaps make it interesting.
"I just need... to find my tools."
Spotting a wide variety of things scattered across mom's dresser, you step to one side of the room to see what you might be able to use.
Mom has all sorts of makeup and jewelry and obscure knick knacks littering the place. You grab a few makeup brushes, lipsticks, and pencils and toss them at the bed, figuring they could be good proxies for scalpels and the like. A few items hit Bree's bare side and she can't help but giggle as she's pelted by unknown projectiles, but works to quickly wipe her amusement from her face. Not entirely satisfied by those choices, you open up mom's drawers looking for more inspiration.
After opening and closing every dresser drawer, something strikes you as odd. Although you can't put your finger on what. You open the top drawer again. It's filled with panties and socks. Then the next, lined with bras, then another stuffed with various tops. No, it's that second drawer that's bothering you. For a drawer of just bras it sure seems hefty. You pull it open again then push the bras around and notice the inside of the drawer is a different colour than the others; the bottom is black instead of a wood grain. It's then you realize that this drawer seems shallower than the others too. With that, you grab at a crack along the inside edge and pull up the bottom.
You've found mom's sex drawer.
You'd suspected mom owned a sex toy or two - she is a 21st century woman after all, even if a bit outwardly repressed - but you never expected to find an entire custom-built drawer filled with them. Not that you'd ever gone looking. Well, once, a few years back after joking around with some friends, but you had never found anything. Now you've stumbled across the jackpot, a half a drawer full of all sorts of crazy looking things: dildos, anal beads, lube, nipple clamps, and other things you haven't even seen in porn before. Is your mom freakier than porn? Granted, you watch far less of that stuff than other guys in your class. Off to one side you can see some fuzzy cuffs and a bit of rope, so mom is definitely a little kinky, or has at least experimented a little. But it's all so well organized and hidden. There's no way that she and dad are just "experimenting" with this stuff.
You glance over your shoulder. Bree is a very patient corpse.
"Oh, uh, yes, here we are! We have plenty of tools!"
You remove the false bottom completely, some of the bras spilling out onto the floor, but you manage to set the insert on top of the crap on mom's dresser without losing too many of them. Looking down over the intimidating objects you're not even sure what to grab, and end up returning to your sister empty handed. For now. With the bottom pulled out you have easy access to anything you might need.
A bit shocked by mom's sex drawer, your nervousness from a minute ago has subsided allowing you to jump right back into the autopsy.
"So Johnson, how do we proceed with the examination?"
"Well we need to establish the cause of death. Given that she was holding herself when she died we should probably start there."
You pick up an eyeliner pencil next to Bree and pull off the cap.
"Really? Let me write that down." You lean over your sis, bringing the pencil to the exposed half of her chest. "Va... gi... na..." you voice as you write across your sister's breast. Her nipple ends up as the dot for the 'i' not entirely by accident.. Bree again can't keep herself from smirking, but it seems to be mostly because of the word you're writing.
"Now, if we look closely," you start, moving down her body. "You'll see there's this little crack in her crotch. Very unusual. Must be some kind of wound. We'll have to open it up to get a better look."
You part Bree's legs, spreading them as wide as you can without making her uncomfortable. The back end of the pencil you're still holding is rounded and smooth. You flip that end toward your sis and lean in.
"She looks a bit discolored," you declare, poking at each of her rosy vulva. "Definitely a lot of bruising here from whatever killed her." Pressing the pencil near the inside edge of her outer lip, you push open one side of her sex as clinically as possible, never touching her with your hands. "Just as I feared. This wound is very wet. That's very telling. It must have been slow and excruciating." You slip the end of the pencil down between her lips, using the side to help keep her spread open. Slick juices have managed to coat the entire insides of her lips. It's unexpected considering how young she still is, but proves pretty plainly just how excited she has become.
It's hard to not just stare at your little sister's pussy. She just looks so perfect. Her inner lips are so dainty, her features still maturing. She's utterly pristine. "Umm... I see an entry point here..." You prod at Bree's tiny urethra, nearly invisible within her shimmering pink folds. A heavy outward breath can be heard from further up the bed as you repeatedly poke it. "And one here as well..." Sliding lower sends the pencil to your little sister's virgin entrance. You dip just inside, not even half an inch, and wiggle it against the insides of her sensitive pink flesh. Bree twitches hard when something threatens to enter her; one sharp jerk upward, her butt clenching, hands pressing against the sheets in shock, before she settles down again.
"Is a death twitch a good sign during an examination, Johnson?"
"Sometimes it's good luck. Sometimes it means you have an uncooperative corpse."
Bree becomes noticeably more still, correcting herself following your comment. She's still trying to play her part, despite how far you're taking this.
"We should finish getting her processed before we go any further. Go ahead and strip the body."
You clamor up onto the bed, following your orders.
"Whatever you say, Johnson!"
It takes little effort to pull the one shoulder strap down and slip the remaining half of Bree's one piece down her body. Give most of the material is still intact around her waist, it's a bit more of a struggle to work the tight suit off of her butt, but it suddenly pops free after a few tugs. You're not sure if Bree lifted her butt a little to help out, but you'd like to think so. You gradually close Bree's legs together as you slip the suit off of her short slender limbs. It's not like it had been covering very much since you tore it up, but pulling it over the tips of her toes and leaving her without a single stitch to cover any part of her nubile figure makes your cock strain a little harder against your boxer briefs.
Your sister isn't especially toned but is skinny enough to give her body a surprising amount of definition. Nearly invisible little lines run down her pelvis to help frame her pussy. Her waist pulls in ever so slightly giving her pre-tween form the most subtlest possible shape. It was even more noticeable when her hands were above her head but is much easier to appreciate now that she's utterly naked. Part of you wants to write more obscenities and slurs all over her little body just because you know she'd let you, but you don't want to degrade her either. She is your sister after all.
You grab Bree by her waist, closing your hands around her slim torso under the auspices of repositioning her. You then slide your grip lower to her hips, more obviously running your fingers along her bare skin. Still wanting to advance the game, you grab your sister's wrists and plop her hands together onto her bare chest, overlapping them in some sort of funeral pose, though you doubt there are many funerals with unclothed corpses.
"We should definitely dust the body for prints before we handle her too much. Again, need to preserve the evidence."
Grabbing one of the bushier brushes, you lean forward and whap at Bree's face right across her nose. She reflexively wrinkles it, her lips curling up. You then place the brush on her neck and give one long stroke down the full length of her body, over her hands, sternum, belly button, right to the top of her mound. A few more quick strokes over her mound keeps her lips curled upward, although such a light brushing could also be a bit ticklish. Instead you move higher, guiding her hands down just far enough to free up access to all of her chest.
The bristles come to bear against your "vagina" inscription and swirl around and around, circling her dotted "i" with great precision. You really hone in on it, spinning atop the pink button while trying to stimulate whatever breast tissue she does have around the edge. It doesn't take long before Bree purses her lips together, fighting some urge, perhaps to smack you away. But her nipple responds favorably, stiffening up and pointing itself into the bristles that are exciting it.
"Hmm. I think I need to make another note," you declare, grabbing your writing instrument. "Nip... ples..." you add beneath your first word. Bree doesn't giggle at this but her attention is definitely focused on that word, particularly how aroused hers now are. "Johnson, I have a theory. I think these death twitches follow a certain pattern, like she's trying to tell us something."
"That's nonsense! Dead girls can't speak!"
You tuck your fingers in between your sister's thighs, cupping the outside of her sex.
"But what if we touch her right here?"
It's an easy theory to prove. Gently rubbing Bree's crotch makes her eyebrows twitch.
"And then we add this..."
You tweak one of her stiffened nipples, lightly gripping it between your fingers while steadily stroking her squishy mound. She's really fighting now, her brow furrowing, breath becoming shallower. You milk this a little, letting Johnson 'think'. It's thoroughly entertaining teasing your sister like this, exploring and antagonizing her body all at once.
"Hmm. You may be onto something. But we need to run some more tests."