to be on alert in case anybody came by. There’d been a few close calls when Dennis had fumbled with the icon at the bottom of his screen for the spreadsheet, thus blocking out whatever porn website he was on. Thank God for quick fingers.
He visited ten porn sites that afternoon including his favorite: the rape page. He also did some searches on Google for necrophilia pages. He couldn’t find any.
He left the office at his normal time and arrived at Harvey’s house ten minutes early. Harvey Panozzo lived in a nice neighborhood with tree-lined streets and ranch homes. He met Dennis at the front door dressed in tan slacks and a white shirt; he looked like he’d just come home from work. He appeared to be around Dennis’s age—early forties—and had thinning black hair and a dark mustache. He also looked like he spent a lot of time out in the sun.
“Nice to meet you,” Harvey said, holding out his hand.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Dennis said, shaking his hand. “I really appreciate it.”
Harvey invited him inside the house and Dennis followed the man, his nerves twitching. One time he’d met an extreme hardcore fetish enthusiast in the hopes of scoring some bloodsport videos and was tackled from behind by another character who was lying in wait. Looking back on it now, Dennis realized that they were going to rape him, probably torture him to fulfill their own desires, but Dennis was lucky. Working out at the gym every day gave him an advantage a lot of guys his age lacked, and he was able to fight off his attackers ruthlessly. He was careful in meeting like-minded freaks, and now as he followed Harvey Panozzo down the hall toward a rear bedroom, his senses were on heightened alert.
“Carl is a trusted friend and ally,” Harvey said, motioning for Dennis to have a seat. “I knew you were okay when you mentioned Carl sent you. I don’t trust people that are referred to me by people other than Carl.”
“Neither do I,” Dennis said.
“You said you were going to buy the necro publication Carl had?” Harvey asked.
Dennis nodded. “Yes. He said you bought it last night, that you’re a fellow …”
“Enthusiast?” Harvey smiled. “I suppose I am.” He paused for a moment. “I take it you are interested in similar material?”
Dennis nodded. “Very much so.”
“I think I may be able to help you.”
Dennis felt a burst of excitement. “That would be great.”
“Tell me something,” Harvey said, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “What do you do for a living?”
Dennis hesitated a moment, then plunged on ahead. “I’m a financial analyst.”
Harvey nodded. “I see. The reason I’m asking is that the group has pretty specific membership requirements. They like for fellow members to be professionally employed.”
“Well …”
Harvey smiled. “Don’t worry. I take it that with your job title you have at least a Bachelor’s Degree and that you make at least fifty k a year. Correct?”
Dennis nodded. Actually he made quite a bit more than that but he wasn’t going to tell Harvey.
Harvey rose to his feet. “Come with me. I think I have just what you’re looking for.”
Dennis followed him to the next room, which appeared to be an office. Harvey opened a file cabinet with a key and rifled through it. He extracted a glossy paged magazine wrapped in plastic and handed it to Dennis, who took it in trembling hands. “Is this the kind of material you’re looking for?”
Dennis looked at it. The dead girl with the severed throat glared at him, her eyes lifeless. Dennis nodded. “Yes.”
“If you’d like, I can give you some time alone with it. Perhaps thirty minutes?”
“That would be great.” Dennis tried to keep his excitement at bay.
“After that, all I have to ask of you are three things,” Harvey said. “The first: make sure you stay employed. We have our reasons for insisting on this policy, the main reason being that when you begin to acquire a taste for the type of material we’re into, it can get rather expensive. We’d rather have you indulge with money you are making honestly. We have no desire to have the police come poking around should you resort to a life of crime in order for you to pay for your habit. Agreed?”
Dennis nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Number two, your being employed is actually a benefit. It automatically separates you from a lot of the other hardcore freaks out there. We have no desire to associate with drug addicts, ex-porn stars, the homeless, or other degenerates. What we do is in the privacy of our own homes. We don’t hurt anybody. We are simply working professionals with similar interests. Agreed?”
Dennis nodded. “And the third?”
“That when you are finally admitted to our group you bring us some materials. An offering, if you will.” Harvey smiled. “It doesn’t matter what it is … a loop of some junkie getting fucked by a Doberman … a torture flick … some chicken hawk stuff for the pedophiles in our group. But you’ll score big points if you can procure some necro flicks or some snuff. And not the fake crap, either. We’re seasoned veterans and we can spot fake a mile away.”
Dennis nodded. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
Harvey clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you will. Now why don’t I leave you alone for awhile?”
And he did just that. Harvey left Dennis alone in the office, pointing out a box of Kleenex and a bottle of lotion on the desk. He closed the door behind him, leaving Dennis alone.
Dennis sighed, opened the magazine to the spread of the decayed old woman, and felt his dick grow hard at the sight of the anonymous penis penetrating the rotting flesh of her stomach, and then he began to jack off.
* * *
When Bob Lansing called Dennis into his office the following day he was exiting another meeting regarding the CPM project. Dennis thought Bob wanted to pick his brain some more about the project, but as he closed the door to Bob’s office he saw his superior’s features were grave. “Sit down, Dennis,” Bob said.
Dennis sat down, his stomach growing leaden. He’d been feeling uneasy since exiting Harvey Panozzo’s house yesterday. He’d driven home wondering if anybody saw him leave the house. Ever since bringing himself to orgasm yesterday courtesy of the necrophilia publication, he felt like he was under scrutiny now, as if everybody around him suddenly knew he was different from them. It was a feeling that had chased him throughout the day.
“What’s up?” Dennis asked Bob as he settled into his seat.
Bob pushed a set of papers across the desk at Dennis wordlessly. He refused to meet Dennis’ eyes. Dennis picked up the paper and scanned the document. At first he thought it was computer code, but then he recognized it as website URLs. His eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the URLs as websites he visited at work. “I don’t understand,” he said, trying to sound casual but doing a terrible job of it.
“Those are the websites you’ve been visiting during your work day,” Bob Lansing said, jabbing a finger at the document. He looked at Dennis unsympathetically. “I got an IT tech to download some software on your PC yesterday when you were out and run a check. Human Resources gave me a call the day before that to inform me an anonymous call was placed to their Sexual Harassment hotline informing them you were viewing sexually explicit material at work, so we had to investigate. And
The news was hitting Dennis like a sledgehammer. Despite the fact the evidence was staring him right in the face, he still tried to talk his way out of it. “There must be some kind of mistake,” he stammered. “I don’t—”
Bob Lansing leaned forward. “Can the bullshit, Dennis! Between you and me, it would be one thing if you were visiting the Playboy Website and looking at a little T & A. Human Resources would still want me to fire you, but I’d fight for you because I like you, and I like your work. But the crap you’ve been looking at on
