Housesitter Pt 04

by The Preve

Inspired, in part, by "Shower", by A-L-E-X-X

The following weeks set a routine Finn would adhere to until midsummer: wake, shower, breakfast, inspections, exercise, swim, lunch, dinner, final inspections, log, bed.

Interspersed were other activities, mostly involving reading, movies, browsing, and research.

It would seem boring to outsiders, but Finn decided sticking to the routine was the best way to get through the three months.

I don't want to come out of this house fat and pasty.

Very little happened, most of the time. The exception was an odd incident, which occurred during one of his jogs two weeks in.

He'd kept to the trails, so as not to disturb the goats. The close cropped grass on the island, and the lack of blackberry and other brambles were testaments to the goats' effectiveness.

Finn kept a steady pace, enjoying the feel of summer air on his bare skin (albeit took some time to get used to the bounce and swing of his cock), when he came across a clearing.

A herd of goats stood in the center, munching the grass. He might have ignored them and jogged on, except the goats positioning drew his curiosity.

They stood in a perfect circle, each facing towards a bare patch in the center.

The patch looked trampled, Finn couldn't see many details, but noticed some large hoof prints.

"Strange," he thought. The goats didn't look large enough to make them.

Deer maybe?

Finn didn't know what deer prints looked like exactly, and Gavin hadn't mentioned deer on the island.

One of the goats raised its head, saw him staring, and stared back. The other goats followed, the ones facing away turning to look. The goats performed the action simultaneously.

Nary a bleat rose among them. Their stares were stoic and direct. It looked creepy.

"Weird," thought Finn. He jogged on, deciding to stay away from this trail in the future.

Other ways Finn passed the time was through researching the backgrounds of the previous house sitters. He wanted clues as to why they took the job, how it worked out for them, and what they did afterwards.

Ryan Burns was first. Finn found more information on the Craftlove website. Although Finn hadn't dreamed of Ryan since that night, he stayed in his mind.

There has to be a reason he's sticking in my head. What did he mean by "get away"?

Craftlove website contained bios of all its employees, including interns.

Ryan Allan Burns

Age: 22

Height: 5'9"

Weight: 135lbs

Eyes: Hazel

Hair: light brown

"Born in San Diego, CA. Graduated William Harrison High. Went to Stanford, pretty much solid Californian.

Served on the Stanford Swim Team, good stats. Surfed competitively.

Date of hire:

September 12, 199. .

Date of sabbatical:

August 31, 199. ."

One year. He worked for Craftlove for one year before he took a sabbatical?

Finn clicked further.

That isn't right. He's still listed as being on sabbatical. Did he quit or get laid off? His employment was, what? Fourteen years ago?

His

Agora

page (a Craftlove subsidiary) showed a bright, young, funny, energetic college grad, ready for any challenge.

A few uploaded home videos seemed to confirm that image but Finn, on closer viewing, noticed some details.

People around Ryan, while they seemed to like him, also looked to keep their distance; laughing and joking with him one minute, ignoring and talking around him the next.

He had friends, it looks like, but they weren't exactly friends.

Finn felt the familiarity.

Ryan's family life didn't seem all that happy either. His bio listed two brothers and a sister. Ryan was the youngest.

Both parents were in law. His father, a lawyer, a senior partner in

Brace and Charles,

a longstanding, and powerful law firm.

His mother was a superior court judge.

The bio noted their membership in the local Presbyterian church.

An affluent, conservative family.

Finn had met more than a few Presbyterians where he'd grown up.

A home video of a birthday party, posted on Ryan's page,

His eighteenth,

showed him with his family, and a birthday cake with candles.

Finn noticed more clues to Ryan's true relationship with the others.

The close watchfulness of his parents and siblings, yet also a distance. Ryan's somewhat mechanical actions around the dinner table.

Like he's going through the motions of being happy.

The camera panned over some cards from well-wishers. One card looked to have come from some school or business.

Finn paused the video, screenshot the image, and blew it up.

Right Path Institute.

Where did I see that name?

He googled it.

Oh yeah, I read about this one.

A gay conversion therapy camp, closed because of allegations of abuse, psychological and emotional.

Hmmm.

Finn, on a hunch, went back to Ryan's school history.

Graduated yes, but no junior year.

He sat back and made a guess.

So, his family sent him to a conversion camp when he was sixteen. The people around him in the other video. Maybe they had the same views as his family.

Didn't make much sense regarding Craftlove. Gavin Peters was known, praised actually, for keeping diverse and open-minded workplaces.

There might be pockets of people similar to his family here and there. Maybe he had to associate with them because of his parents?

Still didn't explain his intense dream.

Christine Ashwood's bio was more extensive.

Probably because it looks like she's a higher tiered executive.

Christine Alden-Ashwood

Age: 33

HT: 5'11"

WT: 136lbs

Eyes: brown

Hair: black

"Born in East Hampton, Long Island, New York. Graduated Esther Hartridge Academy, Winsted, Connecticut. Whoa! One of the top prep schools in the country. Degrees from Yale, business law, and Penn State, economics. Top volleyball athlete.

Father is Bernard Alden-Ashwood, Viscount Thorneberry. Son of Brion Alden-Ashwood, 10

th

Duke of Terry.

Mother listed as Inez Calderon, domestic worker."

A picture of Christine's father showed a handsome, pale young man, with dark hair and pale blue eyes. Sharply, but conservatively dressed. No contemporary pictures featuring her biological mother.

I think I have an idea what this is about.

Finn, having grown up in circles where affluence didn't guarantee integrity, googled the Ashwoods.

"Long line, going back to Edward I. Started out as earls, became dukes late 1600s. A few American Gilded Age heiresses married into the line, late 19

th

, early 20

th

centuries. Pretty long history of wealth and privilege. Let's look at Bernie."

Bernard Ashwood worked for Carrington, Sykes, and Prior, a major British financial firm. Transferred to New York with his wife and son, 197. .

Managed CSP's New York office for ten years. Transferred back to London, 198. . Had two other sons and a daughter,

Christine,

in the meantime.

"Wife's name is Elaine Danford-Ashwood, second daughter of Peter Danford, Baron Danford, newspaper magnate. Definitely not Christine's mother."

Finn noted Bernard's London address and Elaine's Edinburgh residence.

Still married, but separated almost four decades.

He googled Inez Calderon.

"CEO Calderon Fashion. Naturalized American citizen, born in Juarez, Mexico. Married with five children, three daughters, two sons. Supports charities."

Three charities stood out: Justicia Unida, a legal action group advocating for undocumented immigrants, Organization for Fair Labor, a lobbying group against worker exploitation, and the Alliance for Responsible Action and Justice, an organization offering legal and financial support for rape victims, and children who were born as a result.

Ah hmm.

Calderon's bio listed her status as an undocumented worker during her early years in America.

In the New York area.

She returned, briefly, to Mexico.

Leaving her daughter with the Ashwoods.

She acquired a visa and returned, permanently, to the US, to establish her company.

Finn took a look at Calderon Fashion's website.

Bernard Ashwood was an early investor.

Christine spent much of her early life shuttling between the family estate in Bedfordshire, England and Hartridge.

Finn thought again. He'd been raised in affluence, and knew how the game was played.

Here's the scenario: Bernard Ashwood rapes the housemaid, an undocumented immigrant. She gets pregnant. They either pay her off, or she finds a way to blackmail them, or him specifically. The Ashwoods make some sort of deal to raise the daughter. Inez uses the money to get a visa, and establish a business. Maybe she milks him for a little more to invest.

Speculative up the wazoo but the bios contained lots of implication.

How did the family treat her?

She was a child of rape,

Possibly,

but the Ashwoods gave her a privileged upbringing.

Her bio listed fashion modeling during her college years. The position she held in Craftlove surprised Finn.

CFO?! What's a chief financial officer doing house sitting for Craftlove?

As with Ryan Burns, Christine was listed as being on sabbatical.

Long ones.

Ryan got a chill up his spine.

Callie Hall's bio was the oldest.

Callie Benbow Hall

Age: 25

HT: 5'4"

WT: 120lbs

Eyes: blue

Hair: ash blonde

"Born in Abilene, Texas. Father worked oil rigs. Mother worked as a waitress. Employed as an IT specialist. Not much known of her family, other than a bunch of brothers and sisters."

Another difference: her employment was listed as ending September 1, 199. .

A day after she finished here.

Residence listed as somewhere in Tampa Bay, Florida, as of January 1, 20. .

Not on sabbatical at least.

Pictures revealed a young, athletic, serious looking woman.

She's not smiling in a lot of them.

Short and slender, almost elfish, with short cut hair. Finn's best word to describe her was,

Serious pixie.

Other than her brief bio and a few pictures, Callie Hall didn't have much presence online.

If I find myself in Tampa, maybe I can contact her and compare notes.

Finn closed the laptop, leaned back, and thought over the bios.

It's all a bunch of speculation, and I only have some idea of two of them. Ryan and Christine don't strike me as being in good with their families, or having many friends. What if it's the same with Callie?

A chill went through Finn again, at that thought. The similarities between them and his own life felt way too close for comfort.

So, was Craftlove looking for people who wouldn't be missed by anyone they knew, or not noticed if absent for extended periods? Outcasts and black sheep? What is Gavin Peters up to?

A vision of psycho-murder houses from cheap horror flicks flashed through his head, briefly.

Nope, get it out of your head, Finn. The sabbaticals might just be website glitches . . . Craftlove is known for good tech repair though. Any glitch would be taken care of quickly. It's unusual for glitches like this to be on a Craftlove site this long, but still . . . and Callie Hall seems to have done her job and got out. I think this place is getting to me. I better figure out some more ways to keep my mind occupied.

Finn closed the laptop and left for bed. The darkened library sat silent for a few minutes.

The laptop opened.

The screen display illuminated. Large neon white numbers against a dark background, counting down; one week to midsummer.

He rose from the bed, cock throbbing, a sensual thrum pulsing in his ears. The bathroom next door was aglow. The light shifted constantly, at once a lustful red, at another, a sensual purple, and then, an ethereal silver, like the moon.

Whispers and soft, hushed voices susurrated from the room, drawing him in.

The light's source was the shower. He entered. The shower was moist, with droplets of water running down the mirrored walls.

The whispers turned to moans, pained yet sensual. The moans of someone in an act of love, yet experiencing pain as well.

A woman was in the shower; laying on an altar-like bed frame, black and shiny like obsidian. He recognized her. An altar or throne felt appropriate for a woman like her.

The mirrored wall emitted the light, but the shower, itself, with the woman as exception, remained darkened.

He went to her, many questions on his mind, but ran into a barrier.

"She's behind the glass," he realized, as with the other.

He pressed his body to the glass, cock erect at the fertile sensuality she presented.

The woman was pregnant, heavily, with a near impossible gravid belly, and enormous breasts above it.

A sight such as before him would be grotesque under other circumstances but, on this woman, it came together in a vision of fertile beauty he'd never seen before.

Even the smaller details, the blue veins crisscrossing her giant breasts and belly, her conical nipples, white beads at the tip, her navel pointing like a tiny nub, aroused him.

The woman's body gleamed with moisture, from her glossy black hair, down to her sculpted legs, spread open to expose a rose pink pussy.

The woman's face mingled agony, ecstasy, lust, and pain. Moans, whispers, chants, aspirated through her lush, parted lips.

She ran her hands over the giant curves of her body. He watched her grunt and strain, and then things, shadows, came from the dark.

Indistinct, blurred, they sent shudders through his body, but he knew not if they were of fear or desire.

Shadowed heads lowered to her breasts, mouths placed on nipples began to nurse. Blurred hands joined hers to stroke her belly.

A shadowed form knelt between her legs. He watched its hands delve into her flower.

The woman gasped and looked at him, licking her lips, with a hot, lustful hunger he felt in his hard cock.

The shadowed form withdrew its hands, plucking something from the woman's womb.

As a head exited her vulva, the woman gasped a second time. She said something to him.

Finn gasped awake. It was morning. His cock stood steel hard. The dream was fading.

It was a grotesque kind of dream, and yet,

I was hard? For a pregnant woman?

He'd seen pregnant women, of course, but never in such a way as the dream.

And it was Christine Ashwood. Why would I dream of her, in that way?

Plus, there were the words she spoke.

It begins. On Midsummer, it begins. Get away.

The Fun Starts In Chapter Five. To Be Continued.