AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please note that I am well aware of the irony of my own surname when it comes to this story. To my knowledge, there are no Pedophiles amongst my male relatives.
A Price Too High
By Margaret Price
I didn't love him. I didn't hate him. I shouldn't have slept with him. But what did I know at the time? I was only thirteen, and I wanted "The Young Shepherd" by Giorgione. I thought I was mature enough at the time. I had set my terms and extracted the promise that he give me the painting on my next birthday. It was still a mistake. A mistake I made because I loved a painting and was willing to have it at any price, even if the price was my own body.
Dorian's mind flashed back to the events of that fateful day. Was I really that naïve?
Lord Price sat on the sofa and lifted Dorian onto his lap before he leaned down to kiss him, his hands sliding under his jacket. The boy was still very tense, but that didn't matter. He had said yes, and that was all he cared about.
Dorian tried not to think about what was happening, tried to keep his eyes fixed on the painting. He swallowed hard when the buttons of his shirt were undone to allow Lord Price to caress his smooth skin with large, rough hands. He jumped when one of his hands was suddenly moved down and placed on top of the man's crotch.
"You know what to do," Lord Price whispered in his ear.
Dorian had to tear his eyes away from the painting to look down, seeing the bulge of the man's cock under his hand. "I…"
Lord Price unzipped his pants and pushed them down, exposing his erection and sliding the boy's hand onto it. He drew a deep, shuddering breath as Dorian's hand touched his cock with gentle, tentative strokes. "Yes…." he breathed. "Like that. Just like that. You're such a good boy."
Dorian had his doubts about that one. His own mother had disowned him because he was not a good boy. He wanted to be a thief when he grew up. What would she say now if she saw him holding another man's penis in his hand? It was so much larger than his own. He had wondered what a grown man's erection would look like. Now that he knew, he found it somewhat frightening. What if I can't handle it? Will he break the bargain?
"Faster," Lord Price sighed. He leaned back, closing his eyes. He still had a hand on Dorian's wrist, supervising the motion of the inexperienced boy's hand. He gave a low moan as Dorian did as he was told. After a few minutes, he gave a deep groan and climaxed.
Dorian was so startled when the man ejaculated that he snatched his hand away. He looked at the semen running down hand in uncertainty. Now what do I do? He couldn't exactly wipe it on his good clothes.
Lord Price found the boy's confusion amusing. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him, watching as he cleaned his hand. "Let's get those clothes off you," he said calmly. "Then there'll be no danger of soiling them."
Dorian gave the man a steady look and then nodded, getting to his feet. He turned his gaze back to the painting as Lord Price undressed him. Then the rough hands were running over his skin again, down his body to his bare buttocks.
"Here, lie down," Lord Price said calmly, leaning the boy face down on the sofa.
Dorian reached up and grabbed the arm when his body was placed into position. He heard the man removing his trousers, but did not want to look back at him, keeping his eyes fixed on the painting. Then Lord Price knelt between his legs and began caressing his bare ass again.
"You're such a good boy," the man kept saying. "Such a beautiful boy."
A slick finger entered Dorian's body and it was all he could do not to cry out. He buried his face into the cushions, closing his eyes tightly. After a few minutes, the man was pressing his erection against his virgin ass, still repeating what a good boy he was.
When Lord Price thrust into him the first time, Dorian did cry out, his fingers tightening on the arm of the sofa. He was sure he would break it as he held on for dear life while the man slowly thrust into him. It hurt. He knew it would, but that still didn't prepare him for the reality, especially after he saw the size of the man's erection.
"Such a…good boy," Lord Price repeated, increasing the speed of his thrusts.
Dorian clenched his teeth and looked up, fixing his eyes on the painting. Not much longer. It couldn't last much longer...
It turned out to be several minutes longer, which was an eternity to the inexperienced Dorian. Then he heard the man making the same sound he had before ejaculating all over his hand and knew the end was in sight. Lord Price gave a final thrust into his body, pulling a surprised cry from him as he emptied himself inside his body.
Then it was over. Lord Price was extracting himself and sitting back, a contented smile on his face. Dorian closed his eyes and laid his head on the cushion. Now I just have to wait for my birthday and "The Young Shepherd" is mine.
"Dorian, get dressed," Lord Price said as he pulled on his trousers. "You're father will be here to get you soon."
Dorian nodded, getting up slowly, wincing as he did so. He was going to be sore for quite a while. But the painting was his. He had made his payment. He just had to wait for Lord Price to keep his side of the bargain.
But he didn't.
It had been a bitter pill for Dorian to swallow when his birthday arrived along with a forged copy of "The Young Shepherd." At fourteen he learned a terrible lesson. He had made a fool's bargain, and the price he had paid for it was something he could never get back again.
"I tried to steal the painting later," Dorian said quietly. "But I was only fourteen and very inexperienced. I was almost caught, got chased by dogs…" He sighed heavily. "Eroica's first heist was a dismal failure."
There was a long silence after he finished telling his story. He was in the library of Castle Gloria with Klaus, who was in the chair across from him, his features unreadable. When he could stand it no longer, Dorian said, "Aren't you going to say something?"
Dark green eyes looked up at him. "What would you have me say?" came the quiet reply.
"I don't know. What you usually do. That I was stupid and it served me right."
"You were a boy. The man was the worst kind of degenerate and took advantage of you," Klaus replied succinctly. He glanced over at the painting in question on the wall. "I can only assume that you were eventually able to steal it from him."
Dorian shook his head. "Not until after he died. I managed to blot it out of my mind until the Price collection went up for sale."
Klaus drew a deep breath, shaking his head. "You and your art."
"Here it comes," Dorian said coolly. "I knew I shouldn't've told you."
"It was your choice."
Dorian gave a derisive snort and turned away. "You asked me about my first time. What was I supposed to say?"
"You didn't have to say anything, Dorian. You don't always answer my questions," Klaus pointed out. "I didn't really expect you to give me all the details."
Dorian turned back to look at him. "I thought you should know, that's all."
Klaus nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his coffee. It was difficult sometimes being with so experienced a lover and not knowing all the sordid details of his past. Then again, sometimes he was afraid to learn the details. How many lovers had Dorian taken before he finally took Klaus into his bed not so long ago? How many was too many? For Klaus the answer was simple. More than one.
"Okay, Klaus. You're turn."
Klaus looked up sharply. "My turn what?"
"I want to hear about the first time you had sex."
Klaus sat back and wondered if his face were turning red. He gave Dorian a self-conscious smile. "Why? Don't you remember our first time together? I thought I was spectacularly awful."
Dorian's mouth dropped open. He was sure that at some point in time Klaus would have attempted to prove himself as a hardcore straight by sleeping with a woman, if only once. "You never…"
Klaus shook his head. "You were the first."
"Oh, Klaus!" Dorian was out of his chair and practically fell onto the man, kissing him on the mouth. "I never realized. I'm so honored."
Klaus gave him a small smile. "As you should be."