Posted by hisdinner on December 19, 2004 at 22:21:33:
It's the Thought that Counts
He said, "Write about me. Tell me how it ends." And so I will.
Alec had been alone for most of his life, having been married for countless years to a loveless wife. He had no horrible flaws that might have repelled her, he was warm and amusing, he bathed regularly. His needs were simple, his demands were few, but they were all too much for her; his slightest touch was distasteful to Deborah. Once a year, with her impatience showing in exasperated sighs and with her eyes rolling back and forth, staring at the ceiling, Deborah lay stiffly while Alec thrust into her. This was Alec's birthday present.
He'd heard that whores were more adept at faking pleasure.
So when his 40th birthday came and went with such a bang, he found himself walking down the street most fabled for its paid concubines. Alec was fond of euphemisms. He liked robing his fantasies in silken scrim to hide their flaws. But after more than a dozen years of loving only in the airy clouds above his cold bed, Alec wanted more, even if it meant grit and strong scents and the possibility of crime. It was illegal, after all, to take a whore, even if she took you first, for all the money you'd saved up, hidden from the missus.
She was long and lean and blond, a remarkable match for the cold bride he'd left at home. She had him rent a room where the night manager favored her clients with special rates. She was all business, this one. Rattled off her prices as soon as she'd got him to say what he wanted, and then she told him how long, which way, and what cost more and what he could not have at all. She smirked when he spurted two minutes after he'd entered her. She had her skirt pulled down and her breasts pushed up and she was out the door thirty minutes before his hour expired. He lay on the bed, stared at the ceiling and edited the last twenty minutes in his head. Made her smile and gasp and beg, made her moan for more, saw his hands around her throat, heard her scream, and there was blood and it was Deborah's, and she lay dead. Alec ran for the toilet and retched.
The next weekend he planned it better. His daydreams got more refined, he gilded them and made them shine. He was sure when he went out this time, things would be better. This night's girl was tall and blond but she had a simpering giggle; Bambi was no ice queen. She didn't have a regular spot to take her customers, good. Alec was prepared. He took her to a car park on the river and got her to climb into the back of his car. He'd thought to lay down a tarp and soft blankets over the car seat. Bambi put his money in her shoe. Somehow, after, that little detail was the one that twisted his stomach-- seeing his rumpled money in her dirty little shoe.
She let him tie her up but made him promise not to kiss her. She really oughtn't to have said that, no. When she said "No kissing," --Bam! The silk scrim curtain fell and she was
Deborah, and he couldn't stop himself, but this time he plowed her good before he was finished, and she didn't smirk at all. She only screamed. He used a hunting knife. But it was dark, the river was loud, rushing down a drop off, and the blankets came from the Big Lots store, just today, they soaked up the blood ok, as far as he could tell. No one could hear him screaming, "Deborah!" as he stabbed her. He tossed her into the river, blankets and all. Only her shoe remained. It made him sick again.
After a month or two, he had it down. The river, the blankets, that stayed, but the knife, it had to go. Garrote instead because that way he could watch her eyes better, see that panicked recognition, watch her flail.
The best part was when Deborah would choke and plead when he loosened the cord for a few seconds. She'd promise him anything then. He knew better, didn't he. But still, one mustn't seem ungrateful.
"Oh Deborah," Alec would say, he loved this part, he did it exactly the same way every time now. It was perfect. Tightening the cord again as he drove himself so deep inside, Alec would say, "Oh Deborah. So thoughtful of you. And it isn't even my birthday."