And much of it happens here, with what's known as "setting the features." The embalming chemicals Zeke will shortly inject into Abigail arteries will firm her soft tissues to a rigid and unalterable state. Now's his best chance to set her into final form. Standing at the head tits of the table, Zeke raises her head onto a rubber block where a pillow will eventually be placed, and sets the elbows and shoulder blades onto elevated rests. (He could have achieved the same ends with less effort and more precision with "arm positioners," prefab homemade metal forms into which arms are locked.) Zeke's broken up most of Abigail's rigor mortis, but he continues to manipulate the limbs, and begins to massage the muscle stiffness out of regions that are most visible at a viewing -- the forehead, cheeks, eyelids, and hands. When he feels the hands relax, he cups them around a ball of dry cotton and joins them at her lap, right over left. A final twist of her head, fifteen degrees to the right, ensures that mourners will see her face -- not just its profile -- when they approach the casket. The angle also keeps Abigail from looking like she's staring fixedly at the ceiling, an unappealing position dubbed "stargazing." The actual preservation he approaches in two stages. The first, known as arterial injection, involves draining the blood from Abigail's circulatory system and replacing it with liquid preservative. From the cabinet Zeke pulls four sixteen-ounce bottles of a formaldehyde -- "formalin" -- cocktail and pours them into amateur the threegallon clear tank atop a Portiboy embalming machine. The tank fills with water, cutting the solution, and mixes it for injection into Abigail's artery. On Abigail, he draws a sharp scalpel along the right side of the neck near the collarbone, opening a two-inch-long gash that exposes a grayish mass of fat and tissue. Switching scalpel for blunt hook, Zeke probes within the mass until he locates the cream-colored artery; he pulls the vessel to the surface and, slipping a thin file beneath the vessel, secures it. Returning to the cut, he likewise raises pov and secures the neighboring bluish jugular vein. You set up to start the embalming. Then, her left arm was raised so that it rested at a 90-degreengle to her side, and an incision was made under the left armpit. The appropriate arteries were found, raised and carefully incised, and needles were inserted to drain the blood and inject embalming fluid. Abigail Elizabeth Miller lay quiet, utterly inert, pliant and unresistant, throughout this process, An artery and vein now protrude from Abigail's neck. With scalpel in hand, Zeke saws an opening into the tough, rubbery artery and guides the head of a metal tube into it, pointing the head toward the heart. A hose affixed to the tube's free end runs to the Portiboy, whose pressure and flow rate Zeke adjusts for a body that looks to be one hundred twenty-five pounds or so. He then trips the machine to life. With a loud, regular clicking sound, the Portiboy begins to pump pink embalming fluid through the tube into Abigail's artery. With the machine's relentless force behind it, formalin pushes blood from arteries into veins. Zeke is careful not to dial up the pressure. Excessive pressure can bloat a body within a matter of minutes, making it look fifty pounds heavier. The blood is now building up. To release it, Zeke slices a hole into the raised jugular and into it inserts the shaft of the drain tube, pushing south until the tip banks against the upper chamber of the heart. Brackish blood streams from the tube and big spills into the gutter that rims the embalming table. From there it flows into a porcelain basin at the head of the table called a "slop" sink and gurgles down the drain on its way to the city sewer system. With the Portiboy ticking away, arterial fluid being pumped in, blood being forced out, Zeke begins to periodically massaged and exercised Abigail's breasts, arms and legs to ensure as even a distribution of the fluid as possible. A couple of times he stops the massage to attend to blood clots that block up the veins. Some embalmers push down on the chest to dislodge them; Zeke pumps a priming lever on the end of the drain tube. When he does, a few clots plop into the slop sink, looking something like currant jelly. You only big need to punch some buttons on a computer and send me the files, as an attachment please. “Yes!” squealed Melody. “I can’t pee when it’s hard.” Tell the mages to hold off the enemy advance for as long as possible; make sure they stay intact, they’re too valuable to lose.” Grind back up against me. This is so much hotter than with your girlfriend, isn’t it? amateur She said already done Daddy. As homemade she fingered her clit quicker, I increased the pressure on her asshole. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and tits her nose was running. We lay there for long moments, getting our breathing under control. I smiled, pleased with her, pleased with myself, and pleased that Duke’s cock started to emerge. He felt the internal struggle in him as he finally let her go and with a deep gasp she released his dick. "Shower is ready Master." Violet took long drinks from her wine. The tool, which for some while had been unsheathed and ready for the serve its purpose. “Same old same old,” Dave smirked. I had an ass you could balance a wine bottle on, and I currently had it stuffed into the tightest pair of Levi’s money could buy. I’ll see ya later, Miss Crandell.” Once we got home, I showed him around the house and then showed him to his pov room. “Earning cookies,” he muttered. Definitely not.