Six Masters Island - Perverse Intentions Read online

  SIX MASTERS ISLAND - PERVERSE INTENTIONS

  by Candace Smith

  Copyright 2010 Candace Smith

  Published by Strict Publishing International

  PART I

  He had always been dominant, though during his impetuous youth, others had tried to control him. But, he was patient, and he knew that there were lessons to learn… trophies to collect to mark his expertise… as he rose above the ignorant fools, to the position he deserved… deserved, and demanded. He would be Master. Crucial Needs.

  PRELUDE

  Thomas Harrison Kinsey and Amelia Trechart Kinsey are pleased to announce the birth of twin sons on May 11, 1978 at Kinsey-McClatchy Memorial Hospital. Thomas Harrison Kinsey, Jr. weighed nine pounds, two ounces and is twenty-one inches long. Jeremy Trechart Kinsey weighed five pounds, three ounces and is nineteen inches long. Mother and babies are reported in good health, and Mrs. Kinsey has indicated announcements and invitations for the formal welcoming party to be held at the Kinsey Plantation will be issued within the next few weeks. Kinsey Tribune - May 12, 1978

  Amelia was only partially conscious, too tired to scream after ten hours of labor, and the contractions were almost a numbing inconvenience, at this point. She would not allow her belly to be scarred by a caesarian section, as long as the Doctor kept assuring her that everything was fine.

  Damn, why hadn’t they come up with some drugs for this disgusting procedure? Probably because men made most of the decisions on such things, and mere labor pains were not a priority. They sure as hell would be if they had to deliver.

  Another tightening pulled across her grossly misshapen abdomen, and with exhausted determination, she pushed her babies into the world.

  Later, she would reflect on the Doctor’s face as the smile melted into the concerned, proficient expression of his profession, and to the nurse who had assisted with an almost panic stricken look in her wide eyes. If Amelia had been able to lift herself, to stare at her gaping open womb and into the secret room her babies had grown in, she would have seen Thomas, already fighting for his place as first born, with his brother’s umbilical cord wrapped around his arm and clenched tightly in his fist. A short while later Jeremy expelled, feeling more like a large gush of some soft substance, than the previous, ripping delivery of his brother.

  The babies were placed together in a large clear plastic bassinette, with pale blue blankets wrapping them in cocoons and leaving only their heads and small fists visible. Thomas stood by the window with John McFarland, editor of the newspaper he owned, and they tapped on the glass, trying to get the babies’ attention. The boys’ eyes remained fixed on each other, in an unnerving gaze of intense concentration.

  Thomas was five minutes older than Jeremy, but that extra five minutes seemed to have sucked something out of his smaller sibling. They would have been identical, had Thomas not weighed a full four pounds more, and have the healthy pink hue missing from his brother. Jeremy was as wrinkled as an old man, all loose hanging skin, without an extra ounce to fill out the flesh. His skin was so pale, blue veins could be seen pulsing on his bald skull. Thomas, of course, had entered the world with a full head of riotous curly black locks.

  Almost immediately, the parents fawned over the healthy baby boy, and barely acknowledged the weaker child. If not for Thomas’ incessant wailing whenever he was separated from his brother, Jeremy would most probably have ended up in the full-time care of the nanny who fawned over him.

  “We can’t bring him out for the party, Thomas,” Amelia said absently, as she struggled into the binding lycra girdle to hide the tummy that had not tightened sufficiently to be hidden in her form fitting royal blue gown. She stared at the embarrassing undergarment in the mirror, and as she slipped the silk dress over her hips, her mind flashed on the pathetic twin, blaming him for the destruction of her twenty-three inch waist, and her inability to carry another child.

  “Thomas will cry, Amelia. He’ll be bawling the whole time people are trying to enjoy their cocktails,” her husband replied. “We should have separated them from the beginning, before they could form this attachment to each other.” Thomas Sr. adjusted his bowtie.

  “I’ll have Sarah carry him then, and we can keep him wrapped in a quilt. Maybe it will keep Thomas quiet.” Amelia sent for the nanny and issued instructions concerning, what she hoped, would be minimal attention towards the puny baby. “Don’t forget to keep his head covered. I don’t know why the hell he hasn’t at least started growing hair to cover those ropes of disgusting veins. Make sure you keep him where Thomas can see him so he doesn’t cry, but stay out from underfoot.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sarah replied, and she silently seethed as she made her way back to the nursery. Luckily, one of her newer uniforms was clean and pressed, and she knew which soft blanket she could wrap Jeremy in to hide his disappointing appearance from curious gawkers.

  Sarah was eighteen… okay, seventeen… but she had passed her high school equivalency, and helped raise her six brothers and sisters. She had no problem stretching her qualifications to pursue the position at the Kinsey Plantation as live-in nanny for the children, and to finally escape the drunken stepfather who had beaten and abused her since her mother’s death four years ago.

  Now, Margie could take her place as the man’s victim, until she found her own ticket out of Bridgeville and poverty. Sarah knew her siblings would not blame her when she never crossed back to the poor side of town to visit, and risk her precarious employment. She was amazed her credentials had not been scrutinized more closely, and she relished her position and living in the mansion to care for the small southern town’s two prodigal sons.

  Of the two babies, Jeremy had a much calmer disposition and was not nearly as taxing or demanding as Thomas, though the larger infant would patiently wait while Sarah tended to his smaller brother, and stare intensely at her with his little black marble eyes, encouraging her to take her time and make sure Jeremy was cared for. When it was Thomas’ turn, he would flail his limbs, arch his strong back, spit food he did not like, and generally announce his displeasure at the whole nonsense of being a baby. The sophisticated wealthy parents did not recognize these personality differences, and as a matter of fact, Sarah could not remember either parent ever holding the smaller sweet baby since they had brought the twins home a month ago.

  After the party, Amelia attempted to put the babies in separate rooms, and when that did not work, separate cribs. All the efforts to separate the babies had resulted in racking, continual wails from Thomas, until he was laid beside his brother. When Thomas was picked up he never looked at his guardian, but kept his dark gaze on the infant left in the crib.

  As the boys grew, another distinguishing difference surfaced. Thomas was healthy, rarely catching colds or other childhood diseases. Jeremy continued to stay a smaller, delicate version of his brother, and even the slightest case of sniffles seemed to escalate into pneumonia.

  By the age of three, Jeremy had been hospitalized seven times. Amelia added a full-time nurse to the household staff, because Jeremy could not be transported to the hospital without Thomas, or neither would sleep nor eat. It was finally diagnosed that Jeremy had the weakest of immune systems, and that there was no cure, prescription, or therapy that would relieve the permanent malady. The Doctor recommended the fragile boy be kept in the house, away from the dangers lurking in the air and grounds outside the Plantation walls.

  Naturally, this meant Thomas stayed at home, as well, and over the years the boys continued to share a room, a teacher, and no other friends. It unnerved the parents to watch the boys communicate silently, anticipating the other’s requests. Sarah though
t it was fascinating, and she even devised methods to see if the boys could predict their brother’s actions from different rooms. They delighted in Sarah’s games, and she was the only one who had ever seen them smile.

  Over the first few months, Sarah’s position within the household had changed also, with a late night visit from Thomas Sr. during one of the babies’ hospital stays. He walked into the nursery without knocking, and her eyes had flown open at the familiar sound as she lay in her small bed in the corner. Her skin rose to goose bumps, and her mind flashed back to her drunken stepfather making his approach.

  Mr. Kinsey was sober… though a familiar, lecherous gleam shined in his black eyes as he sat on the side of her bed. “Happy Birthday, Sarah.”

  She wanted to crawl under the covers, and tears were already filling her eyes as she managed to whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Kinsey.”

  His steady, deep, authoritative voice continued, “I take it you are enjoying your new position, away from that three room shack, and away from Frank. At seventeen, it must have been a truly welcome change to have three meals a day, someone else to clean house, and only two charges to care for.”

  “Yes, Mr. Kinsey,” she answered nervously. Oh god, he found out. Is he going to fire me? “I appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Kinsey, and I am eighteen now. I didn’t lie about my high school diploma, I really do have one, and I do have experience with babies.”

  “I am well aware of your credentials, Sarah.” He reached over and curled some of her brown hair off her cheek and around her ear. The girl had the classic look of a non-descript waif. She was not exactly ugly, but leaned towards a homely young woman with no accentuating features… other than a firm, curvy body that he found most pleasing. And it was not as if anyone would know he had resulted to her, instead of some flashy mistress. “Did you really believe I would have allowed you to be brought into my house, to care for my sons, without checking your past?”

  “No, Mr. Kinsey. I’m sorry I lied to you. Please, please don’t fire me, sir. I can’t go back there, please, sir,” she begged. The filling tears shined in her blue eyes from the moonlight, and she sensed the confident smile on the face hidden in the shadows.

  “There are other things you can do, things Amelia is a little too refined to be pressed into service, but qualifications I believe you also possess in your list of attributes.” No, Amelia rarely let herself be touched, after performing the duty of presenting him with not just one… but two, sons. The passionate tiger he had married, turned into a frigid, unemotional woman as soon as she secured herself in the Kinsey fortune, by presenting him with heirs.

  He refocused his attention on the trembling girl, and found her hand resting on the quilt. His thorough investigation of the Sarah had assured him of her sexual use by that bastard of a stepfather, but he waited until she was eighteen, and now his conscious was at ease as he placed her quivering hand over the bulge in his robe. He held it there, and waited silently for the decision he knew she would make.

  Sarah was shocked, and miserably aware of what the new requirements would be to stay in the luxurious life-style that would otherwise be unobtainable. She could not go back to her step-father and the helplessness that trapped the people in Bridgeville, knowing the cost to stay in the shack would force her to once more service her drunken step-father. The price to stay at the Plantation… and more importantly, with the twins… would be service to the wealthiest, most influential patriarch in town.

  Sarah let her hand travel under the hem of his robe, to the soft flesh of his turgid shaft. Her finger found the moist drop on the tip of the spongy extension, and after spreading the sticky substance she wrapped her fist around his length. An arm slid under her shoulders, lifting her until she was sitting, while she continued to stroke and pump. An encouraging push against the back of her head had her lowering her mouth to greet him, while her free hand slipped open the sash to his robe.

  As she engulfed his thick shaft, she concentrated on the clean smelling musk of him, a much appreciated difference from the smelly, sweaty organ of her stepfather. Her tongue traveled his length while her hands caressed his sack, sucking him and taking him deep in her throat, and applying all the tricks she had learned over the years to hasten the act. At last the hairy pouch tightened, his breathing became labored with sexual heat, and a salty mess spasmed and then oozed into her mouth. When she raised her head, he stood and left the room without another word.

  During one of his many nightly visits, while Sarah crouched on her small bed on all fours with her floor length cotton nightgown raised to her waist, and Mr. Kinsey’s open velvet robe swishing around his thighs as he squeezed her bottom and pumped madly into her, Sarah’s tearful face looked towards the cribs, and she saw the babies silently staring at her disgrace.

  As the boys grew, the basement was converted into a huge playroom, with carousels, swing sets, sandboxes and jungle gyms. There were forts and fake trees to climb, a carpet of plastic grass, and all manner of games and books. Their current favorite was ‘Timothy Turtle’, and they took turns reading the sentences.

  “Timothy Turtle, why do you hide in your shell?” Jeremy squeaked.

  “There are big things in the pond that are scary.” Thomas made his voice deep… as much as a five year old can.

  “There are fun things by the pond. Come out and see.” Jeremy coaxed.

  Sarah smiled and announced it was time to wash up for dinner, and on the way to their room, the boys stopped by the windows and looked longingly onto the back lawn, to the real grass and real trees outside. Sarah was accustomed to their uncanny premonitions, and was not surprised when they spotted a turtle crawling towards the pond. Jeremy and Thomas stared at the creature, and then they looked into each other’s eyes and nodded.

  “Sarah, may I go out and bring the turtle inside? We can put him in a box in the playroom,” Thomas suggested.

  Sarah was at a loss, as the boys never chose to be separated. “Jeremy, is it all right with you if Thomas goes outside for a moment?”

  “Yes, Sarah. I know I can’t go out, so Thomas will have to bring things to me,” he said softly. Jeremy shook the whole time Thomas was gone, while Sarah laid her comforting hands on his shoulders, and his brother looked back at him several times as he ran. He was huffing by the time he burst back through the door, proudly displaying the palm-sized reptile.

  They brought the turtle downstairs and made a wonderful play area for it, complete with sand hills and a small pool of water. Three days later, the turtle lay on its back, its outstretched neck looped with a shoe string that was tied to a heavy metal toy truck. Sarah found it while the boys were with the teacher, and she quickly freed it and placed it out back by the pond. No one mentioned the incident, and the boys did not ask Sarah what had become of the turtle.

  They liked books on animals, and if the creature was something that Thomas could catch, he would bring it to Jeremy in the playroom. The boys never went so far as to kill their new pets, and they never disfigured or permanently maimed them, so Sarah kept quiet about their unusual conduct. She always rescued the animals from the strange scenarios and released them, and the trio never discussed any of the perverse games.

  By twelve, Thomas was accompanying Sarah on short trips to town, keeping Jeremy on his cell phone the whole while and describing the sights for him while snapping pictures to share. Sarah let him bring back the most wonderful things, and they were added to the stash in the basement.

  The following year the boys turned thirteen, and their parents, who had not been completely blind to their sons’ devotion to each other, brought home a psychiatrist to study them. They had to get Thomas out into the world, so he could prepare himself to eventually take over the family legacy… even if this meant turning Jeremy into more of a neurotic mess than he already was. Besides, Mr. Kinsey reminded them, Jeremy would always have Sarah.

  The Doctor’s advice was to separate the boys immediately, and he insisted it should have been done years ago. Amel
ia was almost reduced to tears, when he reprimanded her for permitting Thomas to forgo his whole childhood while he played the role of caretaker for his brother. He even suggested that Thomas might never recognize his own strength, independence and full potential, after being cloistered behind the walls of the Plantation. Naturally, Amelia glared at Jeremy, and blamed him for daring to taint her perfect son.

  It was decided that Sarah could stay on to care for Jeremy… neither parent wanted to be reminded that they produced such a frail, sickly being, and Thomas, Sr. did not want to give up his convenient, sexual outlet. Everyone had anticipated a disastrous tantrum from the boys, and they were surprised a week later when Thomas and Jeremy were standing by the massive oak doors with his suitcases. Thomas was being sent to an Academy, and Jeremy would live life outside the walls of the Plantation through his brother’s letters and phone calls.

  For five years, with the exception of brief holiday visits home, Thomas called twice daily and sent pictures, and then videos, back to his brother. He was an honor student and played football and baseball remarkably well, for a boy who had not been exposed to the sports until school. He joined the debates and chess clubs… everything he thought Jeremy would like to experience… except girls. There were no girls at the boys’ academy, and Thomas avoided the twice yearly dances with the shuttled in maidens from the girls’ school five miles up the road, preferring to volunteer as school monitor to keep the hormone laden youths from wandering into areas of the campus that were off limits. Girls and sex would be something that he and Jeremy discovered together, personally.

  The years had passed quickly, while Jeremy and Sarah read Thomas’ accounts of his experiences in the world. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Kinsey left to his graduation, and there was a huge party planned for Thomas the next week at the Plantation. The fact that Jeremy had not only passed High School, but had progressed through almost two years of College, was not mentioned. After all, he had the opportunity to be individually instructed by tutors at home, and his college studies were done over the Internet.