Turns out that dead, she's a bit of a drag.

We awoke the following morning with Laura's now stone cold corpse still sprawled on the floor. Worse still, rigor-mortice had set in and so she was as stiff as a very misshapen board. There was no way I was fucking her now. Linda joined me as we both stood there, stark naked, looking down at the dead meat that just yesterday had been a fully functioning estate agent. "It’s no good" I said, shaking my head, I can't shag a day old stiff."

"I understand, daddy. That rigor-mortice will soon wear off though, in a few hours, maybe. Meanwhile, we'll just stick her in the shower room so she doesn’t leak and ruin the carpet. Look, is it absolutely vital that you go to work today?"

"I could get away with phoning in to say I'm working from home perhaps, provided I remain contactable at all times. Why, what have you got in mind?"

"I still need an inseminated victim to throw the cops off my trail. There's a nicely plump, middle aged lady baker who has a shop on the high street that's readily available. You see, she closes her shop as soon as her daily batch of bread and cakes are sold, usually about four o' clock in the afternoon. Thereafter, she'll be out the back, prepping for tomorrow's baking. She'll be alone and the back door of the premises will be open to air the place. We'll slip in that way, kill her and you'll inseminate her so the cops will know that they're looking for a man and not girly little me."

"Er......I'm sorry, but for a moment there, I thought you said WE'LL kill her."

"Yes dad. She's a strong, mature woman who won't go down easily. I don't have the weight to deal with her on my own but the two of us should be able to overpower her. Don't worry; I'll do the actual garotting, all you have to do is stop her from stopping me. There's a lot of soft flesh on her for you to play with so for both of us, there should be a lot of fun to be had with her. Right now though, I have some deliveries to make that Laura distracted me from making yesterday. I'll be back at lunchtime." With that, she kissed me on the lips, gave my limp, naked cock a playful squeeze and skipped off to get dressed, her cute little boobs bouncing with every hop.

A little later and fully dressed, I was sitting on the sofa conversing with Laura's corpse and it wasn’t a particularly stimulating conversation. "How the fuck am I supposed to get your twisted, rigid body up all those srairs to the shower room?"

Silence.

See what I mean? She was no fun at all. In the end, I found Laura was easier to drag than carry, but not by much. Her splayed arms and legs kept knocking into things; for a slender dead person, she was certainly taking up a lot of room. Misshapen as she was, she didn't even fit into the shower once I got her there. I therefore left her lying on the vinyl flooring to watch me have a shower since I was sweating like a pig from my exertions. I was quite enjoying the shower until the thought struck me that sooner or later, I was going to have to drag Laura all the way back downstairs again and beyond. That is, unless we dismembered her here in the shower room and disposed of her in instalments. I was shocked to find myself reasoning thus. I'd started thinking like a killer but perhaps even more disturbingly, it all seemed to come rather easily to me. Linda had asked me to help her murder a perfectly innocent woman and I just knew that in a few hours time, that's precisely what I'd do. I'd feel duty bound to but as the showers warm water caressed my body, the idea of overpowering and subduing a frightened, struggling woman caused my penis to stir and start paying a bit of interest in the idea. Something inside me was changing if only just my attitude. Yesterday, I'd have viewed the notion of killing a woman with total horror. Today, I was finding the idea sexy. Something dormant in me was coming alive at the expense of something precious to me dying. Was there a way to make all this abomination stop? I knew at once that there was. Of course there was. I'd delayed too long to save myself but I had, at all costs, to protect the innocent. If it became necessary for the guilty to die in order that the innocent would live, so be it. Without drying and dressing, I dripped my way to my daughter's bedroom, went to her wardrobe, opened the door and retrieved the scarlet cord she used as a garotte. I practiced wrapping the ends around my hands until I felt comfortable doing so. Then, still naked but drip dry, I took the cord with me back to the sofa where I sat, strangely at peace with myself. Though it would destroy me, I'd be doing the right thing. To my own satisfaction, I would be redeemed. All that was necessary now to save my soul was for my resolve not to waver when my monster of a daughter came home.