The first time I visited Creepsteen’s island was 20 years ago. Back then, I was a mere Congressional aide; a boy-toy, really, but we all must follow our talents. I flew by private jet from Miami with the Democratic leaders of the day, including the former president. It was all shits and giggles. We landed on the tiny island’s tiny airstrip. Amongst the rocks and bushes there was a dock, the mansion, and on the far side, a tiny pagan temple.

This was before Creepsteen’s legal problems, before any bad publicity even. You can imagine what it was like to party there; young girls for straights, and for me, there were underage boy-toys and trays of amyl nitrites.

“I only fuck up,” I explained to Creepsteen. “Thanks anyway for the offer.” Sex is something I use purely for career advancement.

Creepsteen smirked at me. Back then, he was still gangly and youngish and had a lingering Yeshiva air about him. Don’t get me wrong: he was every inch the pimp, but had yet to mature into the bull-necked granite faced “investor” everybody knows from the news.

“C’mon, there’s something I want to show you.” Creepsteen put his arm around my shoulder and led me away. The president had his arm around a young girl. He toasted me with his drink and trademark smile.

We descended to the basement of the mansion and entered a security room with video monitors. Creepsteen introduced me to a shifty-eyed dumpy guy named Saul. Supposedly, Saul worked for the FBI. He was gruff as he explained how he vetted candidates for the Democratic Party.

“I understand you want to run for office?” Saul sputtered with a thick accent behind thick eyeglasses. I started to answer, but Creepsteen answered for me.

“Of course he wants to run for the State Senate. You know that.” Creepsteen winked at me. Saul looked everywhere but into my eyes as he spoke.

“I want to hear it from him.”

I opened my mouth to respond in the affirmative and he cut me off.

“Because we have to be very, very careful about our candidates who we run. They gotta be clean, if you know what I mean.”

I acted surprised and hurt. “Of course I understand you!” I defended myself impatiently.

“Have you any financial improprieties?”

“No. Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Are you of good character?” Saul went on and on. I expected Creepsteen to start laughing at this ridiculous line of questioning, but he was studying me like I was a biology experiment.

“Because soccer moms vote, you know church people vote…”

“I resent this line of questioning!” I puffed out my chest and tilted my nose.

Saul looked up at Creepsteen. “Would you listen to this guy?” He shook his head and sighed as he jabbed his thumb in my direction. Creepsteen was no longer jovial. He leaned over to me.

“There’s something you should see.”

Saul turned on the wall of video monitors and there it was. I was on screen after screen after screen, having gay sex, taking it up the ass, giving head, butt-slamming, slamming-butt, ass gobbling, on, and so-forth.

The quality of image ran the gamut from blurry low-resolution up to magnificent Hi-Definition video. Starring with me were underage street hustlers, famous politicians, respectable businessmen, celebrities, college professors, and the anonymous. There was the old and the new. They even had the porno movies I acted in when I was at college and confused.

The dumpy Saul held up his hands. “If these videos get out, it won’t look too good for you!”

Creepsteen spoke up. “Now, now, don’t worry. We’re your friends. We’re the ones who will make sure no one sees these compromising sex tapes!”

I must admit I got a sexual thrill from seeing all these tapes together all at once; maybe I would get my own wall of video monitors at home.

Saul gave me a cold stare. “If these get out, they will kill your career!”

I laughed in their faces! “Who do you think you’re talking to?!?” I stood up out of my chair, “I’m a gay politician! People expect me to be in sex tapes! Go ahead and release them, I’ll get elected to the White House that much sooner!” I laughed!


As I think back on those early days, I swell with pride at how I stood up to the system and its threats of blackmail. Funnily enough, Creepsteen has been very helpful to me. My rise from aide to state senator to congressman had been fast. Any day now, I would announce my candidacy, yet I felt uneasy about being summoned once again to Creepsteen’s Island.

This time would be a secret. We would fly in Creepsteen’s private helicopter, hidden from prying eyes. We would depart not from the St. Thomas airport, but from a local country club; there would be no flight log and no record.

Storms were brewing and the azure waters of the Caribbean had turned murky and dark. Palm trees twisted in the wind. Thunder sounded as Creepsteen’s longtime employee Joslin; a society madam with a pilot’s license, landed the chopper. It kicked up dirt as its blades slowed. The woman motioned me to the craft.

I jogged over like a hunchback and opened the door. As I climbed up onto the pontoon into the cockpit, I saw a little girl strapped in the back sleeping; unnaturally, I thought. I stopped and froze with my hands gripping the door frame.

Joslin, imposing in a pilot’s helmet, barked at me in a loud voice above the helicopter noise. “Get in!”

I did not want to get in. Joslin sped up the rotors and the craft started to lift; I pulled myself in and scrambled to the back as we became airborne. “I want to beat the storm,” she yelled back at me as we flew off.

The trip was rough and short. G-forces pushed me into the unconscious child. My bulk crashing into the little girl seemed to awaken her somewhat. I hate kids and especially little girls. In spite of the storm, it seemed to me that the helicopter was jerking around more than necessary.

I fought the centrifugal force and pushed myself off the little girl into the next seat. It was dark, occasionally lit up by lightning. The tiny girl; she couldn’t have been more than seven or right years old, must have been drugged. She was wrapped in a blanket, painted like a whore; she looked like JonBenét Ramsey. To my horror, I saw that beneath the blanket, she was clothed only in lingerie; a real turn-off!

The chopper landed. Not on the airstrip, but on the other side of the island. Joslin looked over her shoulder at me and shouted over the noise of the slowing rotors for me to “take the girl!”

Her manner was commanding; I dared not disobey.

I yanked the little girl out of the helicopter; she clung to me around my neck. The chopper lifted off, and I was facing the pagan temple. My blood ran cold. Just then, the girl realized I was a stranger, and she tried to get away.

There was only one place to go, and that was the temple. It stood on a hill; the walkway was illuminated by lights in the ground. The little bitch started yelling. I yanked her arm good to show her who was boss. I dragged her up the path towards the small temple; two marble pillars and a gold dome.

I was livid; this was not even remotely funny! Some kind of sick joke, really; did Creepsteen expect me to fuck this child while they recorded it for blackmail? The girl screamed. I stopped, bent down and screamed back at her. “Shut up!”

This was no way to treat the future president!

I pulled her up the steps. I was going to kick the golden door, but it opened automatically. Let’s get this over with, I thought. I dragged the little girl thru the entrance and we were inside the dimly lit temple.

I heard the door close and lock behind us. The inside was round, of course, with a semi-circle of marble pillars surrounding an altar. Facing me was a half-moon of red-robed individuals, their faces covered by drooping hoods and black masks. I searched for Creepsteen. There he was, front and center, covered by the same disguise as the others, but I was sure it was him.

“Look here, Creepsteen. The joke is over!” I examined the walls and ceiling, trying to spot the cameras.

“I have never had sex with a female, and I’m not about to start now!”

The robbed figure seemed to understand. He extended his hands towards me from red bell-bottomed sleeves. One hand went into the other sleeve and retrieved a dagger. This he flipped around and offered to me, handle first.