Albert Horowitz parked the car unsure of what to do next. Looking at the non descript house there was no clue as to what happened inside. Or in his case even worse what happened in the gloomy basement. Horowitz sat unsure what to do, it was a war he fought inside himself one he knew he was losing. He thought about putting the keys in the car and just leaving going anywhere but here. However, his hand would not move to do so and what was worse his hand turned traitor and undid his seatbelt without him really commanding it. He was trapped, moved by a dark desire that slithered in his mind. The car door opened and Horowitz knew that reality would stay while he Albert was destined to enter the non descript house and into a twisted phantasmal landscape.
Gazing once more at the normalcy of the day he rapped hard on the wood framed door. In the time between the door opening and the knock, he glanced at his watch and was pleased to see he was right on time. This was quite difficult as Albert had always been fifteen to twenty minutes early no matter where he was going. He was compulsive about things. Everything had to be just right and under his control. His life, his family, and his career all moved and bent to his will. It would be unfair though to say he was unkind or unloving, quite the contrary he was very generous and kind spirited. However, order, power, duty and honor were the tools he used to carve out his niche in life. The door opened it was Janet she was dressed in the iconic Catholic schoolgirl uniform. She was not for him but he was glad to see it was her who opened the door. That meant his Mistress was done with the props and waiting for him to arrive. In the times when he was early it would somewhat hurt the fantasy to have the door opened by his mistress out of uniform and sometimes out of character. Now though she would be ready for him in all her frightful glory. Janet led the way to the basement.
It was hard to describe the emotional rift going through his mind. How did he find himself here, doing what he knew could only end in disaster if anyone was to find out? Outside there was only doubt and loathing about what he was going to do. Inside, traveling to the basement there was only an electric hum that seemed otherworldly thrumming through his brain and body. If there was a mental form of salivating his mind was doing it. It was hard to know were it all started maybe in those magazines he had saw as a child he was not sure. Later in life it was surly reinforced by the videos he enjoyed in private, the ones he was so shameful of and deathly afraid someone would find. Albert would always trash them in disgust promising never to indulge again. However, it would never be long before he had another video and another pile of ruined VHS tape. Then later when success started to come and along with that, the money he met, a man that shared the same strange desires as he just not in the same way. It was him that told him about this place were dark secrets came true for money. In the early days, it was almost a full time job trying to hide the expenditures from his wife. There was a time when he was almost caught, he had over indulged and even his wife who was normally complacent about there financial affairs grew suspicious. It was impossible not too, creditors from all over started calling. There was even the embarrassing moment they had to borrow money from his wife’s parents in order to save the house. However, that came with a price her dad demanded full discloser of where Albert’s money had been going. Discloser! Nothing could have been worse. Albert who had always been in control of everything felt in control of nothing. In those darkest moments, his mind would crawl to the nightstand by the bed and the revolver laying there with its promise of a quick demise. The questions of where the money went seemed unending. There were no lavish cars or homes or bad investments he could point to. There was nothing, nothing at all. Revealing where the money went would surly end in destruction. His marriage, his career, his personal reputation all gone. So he lied. He admitted he had a gambling addiction. Oh there was the recrimination, the how could yous the crying and the weeping. Albert was even forced into a treatment program for gamblers. However, when he got out life improved. Those were some tough times. But, now his dental practice was booming and the money more forthcoming, his little indulgencies less perceptible and more refined. Before, he was drunk with it like a Frat boy at an all night beer fest. His appreciation of the pleasure had grown more mature and intense even as the times he enjoyed it grew less and less frequent. (Anyone want this story to get done? I had started writing on it the lost interest, I might just junk it with all the other incomplete stories I have lol)
Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)
read more blogs!