The boy is beautiful. Of course he is. If he wasn't he wouldn't be here. I always choose beautiful boys. I am like a connoisseur of fine wine, and there are many similarities I find; full body, sharp flavour and great head. I always pick the very best I can find and I have not found one like this in a long time. Perhaps I have been looking in the wrong places.
I have spent too much time in high class restaurants and on 'the circuit'. Aristocratic blood may not be blue but it is rich; too rich for the system in the end. And they are all the same, on the inside. There are no truly beautiful people left among the very rich.
And so I eventually got bored of playing the aristocrat and started playing the whore. Not technically of course. I give my body as and when I choose, not on the whim or for the money of anyone else. I take whatever body I choose too. No one resists me, no one can. No, when I say I have been playing the whore I meant playing with the whores.
There are some pretty little whores when you know where to look, and some of them are even clean, not that disease means much to me other than that it spoils the taste of the blood and makes the body less robust. The main benefit of a whore is that they are usually alone. By and large they are on the streets or living in squats, eking out an existence by selling their bodies for enough for the next fix until either a trick turns nasty, the fix blows out their brains or age or disease makes them unable to get any more tricks.
I find whores convenient when I'm in a hurry but pathetic and sad. They are certainly not worthy of bringing into my home and gracing my stable.
However, now and again I find a pearl among the swine. This one isn't a whore at all. I have saved him from that. He was about to succumb, I could tell. I could smell it on him; his fear, his doubt, his need. He was in a bar, one of those dark seedy ones where you can hide in the corner making one drink last all night until you find someone prepared to buy you another one.
And he had no trouble finding people prepared to offer. He is, after all very beautiful. And I mean beautiful. There are a lot of pretty boys out there, a lot of handsome ones too. But there are very few truly beautiful people, girls or boys, especially on the inside. It's sad how many people, even the very young are rotten on the inside these days.
I sat and watched him for a very long time, feeling the fear and uncertainty swirling around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of misery. I simply watched and waited and gently nudged the right sort of people over at the right time to crank it up just the right amount.
He was on the point of leaving, sunk in terror and misery so complete that he would have been lucky to last the night; when I slid into the booth with him, tasting and smelling the miasma of distress and pushing a JD across the table towards him. He looked up at me and for the first time in centuries I had to restrain the shiver that passed through me.
It was dark in the booth and he was wearing black. I could smell that the brightness of his hair was natural and didn't come from a bottle, and the redness of his lips came from nothing but the pressure of his teeth. His skin was pale and flawless, his build neither to large nor too small, too muscled or too slender. His nose was straight, his lips full, his chin pointed and his cheekbones high. He was far more than pretty and when I looked into his eyes...
Lay aside the darkness that swirled in him, its scent an aphrodisiac of the finest calibre. Lay aside the hopelessness that made him vulnerable and sweet. Lay aside the fact that my trousers were already twitching at the smell of him. His eyes... right from the very start his eyes were something else.
I have never seen eyes like them. They are large and thickly lashed, over arched by finely defined brows and they are... they are... deep and bright and turquoise blue. I have never seen anything so beautiful, so strange or so corruptible.
He didn't smile at me. He was too far gone for that. He watched me suspiciously as his long slender fingers closed around the glass.
"What's this for?" His voice was light and soft, musical like a breeze through aspen.
"You tell me."
"I... I don't..."
"It could just be a drink, a no strings attached token of appreciation for your beauty. Or it could be an offer, or a down payment."
He glared at me and he was so close to throwing the drink in my face. The emotions pouring off him were arousing me to the point it was getting hard to control myself. He smelled so good.
"What do you mean?"
"Come now. Don't pretend innocence. I know exactly what you're looking for and I'm more than happy to oblige. I have been looking for a... companion and I am tired of the vapid, spineless fools on the other side of town. I came here looking for someone with strength and passion... and you came here looking for someone with money. It seems to me as if we could do business."
"Business?" He says softly, his perfect lips twitching and a tear forming in the corner of his wonderful eyes. "Is that what it is? Is that all it is?"
"What else?"
He looked up at me and it seemed as if he was going to say something but he didn't. I could feel the turmoil, the exquisite torment of his soul and in that moment his fate was sealed. Of course it always had been. From the moment I laid eyes on him there had been no doubt at all that he would be leaving with me: but that was the moment I decided that not only would he be leaving the bar with me but that when I walked away he would be coming with me and I wouldn't be leaving his body in the alley outside.
I watched for the instant he cracked. I saw the hope die in his eyes; the pride, the self preservation; everything fell like a house of cards as he picked up the glass and drained it in a single gulp. Slamming the empty glass down on the table he glared at me. "Alright. You have a deal. Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want," I said slowly, my eyes flashing in the darkness and I saw his widen. "You should be careful what you promise to strangers, they might just take you up on it."
"Yeah well... right now I really couldn't care less."
"Oh I have no doubt about that." I leaned across the table and laid my hand over his. He shuddered but didn't pull away. I caressed his knuckles with my thumb and savoured the trembling. "I won't hurt you," I said and I meant it; I always do.
