Auction

[//note: Thanks so much for the reviews so far. I really appreciate it alot. I have one more chapter already written, then after that I\'m going on hunch, suggestion and whatever you lot would like to input so... comment with something you might want to see happen, or an idea or sommat, and you may see it in the next chaper or so. Thanks again. -Eli]

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A woman was sent over just after dinner. She had a pot of gold paint, a pot of black paint and several paintbrushes with her that she set up on my floor.

“Strip.” She told me boredly as if she had better things to do than paint a teenager’s body up on his birthday. I frowned slightly, wondering if she came here by choice or if she was bribed or conned into being locked into a room with me to make me beautiful. To make me a god.

I shivered as I stepped out of my trousers and ducked out of my shirt. The hardwood floor was cold on my newly bare feet and the woman came at me with even colder gold paint, muttering that she supposed I could keep my shorts on until she needed to get lower than my stomach.

I sucked in a gasp of air as the paintbrush touched my shoulder and swept its way across my chest, leaving a slick trail of stardust behind. Looking down, I watched her quickly and deftly cover half of my upper torso with this paint. I longed to touch it, seeing as it wasn’t drying like proper paint was wont to.

Turning around dutifully so she could paint my back, I couldn’t help but shiver. Not at the cold paint, though it was ridiculously so, but at the thought of why my father had hired this woman for me tonight. To make me wanted. To make me loved. To make me beautiful and ethereal and ephemeral and like so many shooting stars on my birthday. To make me a god among men.

I’m never good enough, so he makes me what he wants.

I must say, it is very difficult to be an artists’ canvas. It tickles and it’s borish and you can’t move at all or you get “tut”ted at.

Finally after taking off my shorts and standing naked, spread eagle and completely bored out of my mind for a good hour, she was done with the gold paint. I was completely covered in the stuff from head to toe and, if stood in the right position, I think I could give the Oscar’s statue a run for his money.

She started then with the black paint. Painting arm bands and cuffs and swirling Celtic designs I didn’t recognize down my arms and across my face and chest and down my legs. She painted so beautifully, I was sorry for the fate that the paint inevitably had.

After paying particular attention to my feet and a black mask around my eyes, she finished with the black and pulled out a can of what looked to me like hairspray. I was slightly right… gold coloured hairspray. With a couple of sprays and her fixing my hair, I was done. Done to stand for another half hour completely still while the paint dried more.

This was going to be a long night.

~*~

Tonight I was to enter in after people had taken their places, which was a change as I was usually in first thing. Tonight, though, it was my birthday and I was a special guest. Theodore was to be the centerpiece at first, until I came in. he was visited by the lady as well, though his painting wasn’t as lovely or as much as mine. A bit round his eyes and down his arm and legs and such. Enough to accentuate his beauty, but not change him completely as I’d been changed. He was beautiful on his own, he needed no help form paints and beauty-makers.

I peeked from a doorway, unseen, as Theodore stood in the centre of the room, gorgeous as always, head proudly raised. These monsters couldn’t bring him down. They never got to his heart, he kept that high and safe and private. He almost never let anyone see it. I caught a glimpse once, I think… the night he said he might actually love me. The night I promised him I did.

When he dances… oh, when Theodore dances… It sends me into a trance. The way his body can move, twist and turn. He is the music. He turns it into something alive and spell binding and so very sensual. The lights reflect his skin so nicely and it shines so that it makes me want to touch him. To touch him all over. To make him dance for me personally and privately. To make him mine…

He’s dancing for them now, his eyes closed, the pre-show. The appetizer. He leaves them hungry for more. Hungry for me. They know I’m coming. I always come.

Theodore’s done dancing and He stands up on His throne to introduce me.

“Birthdays are a special time in anyone’s life, but in the life of a teenager, it is especially important. They are not only mile markers, but they are memories they will cherish forever. Lets not let this birthday be forgotten, hmm?”

A roar went up from the crowd and music started, announcing my coming. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the room, golden head held high. I knew that I looked something special tonight; great pains had been taken to make sure I looked astounding. I was prepared for the collective gasp and audible straightening of every back in the room. I was prepared for every eye to be on me, all heads whipping in my direction as soon as I came into the door. I was prepared for necks craning to see what they could as I strode into that basement, head held high as I’ve seen Theodore do the countless times I’d been the appetizer and him the main course. What I wasn’t prepared for, however, was the complete and utter look of lust sparking in Theodore’s eyes.

I’m used to being eyed. I’m used to being hungrily watched; my every move calculated by horny, dirty old men… but when it comes from Theodore… when it comes from him… it’s so different. I feel wanted, finally. I feel loved. I feel I have a purpose.

With him watching me like that, I knew I would be able to survive this night. This memorable birthday. This being the “Special Guest.”

As I made my way to him, I feel them staring and I think, for once, I really don’t mind. His lips turn up slightly and my heart hammers against my ribs. I’ve made him happy. Oh God, I’ve made him happy. Nothing can get at me, now.

We kiss and it is electric. Had someone been videotaping, which I’m not sure they weren’t, you’d surely see the sparks fly to meet each other as we collide. He smears the paint on my body together as his hands smooth down my arms, drawing me closer.

I am to be strong. I am to be The One, tonight, not him…

But he is so persuasive… I am so pliable in his hands. His warmth turns me to liquid and I can’t help but press against him, turning him gold as well. But… no… I am The One…

I pull away from him with a despairing sound, and the crowd around us waits on baited breath. It is my night to choose to be with whom I will. They all stare back at me, willing me to choose them. I hold a power over them. They want me. They can’t have me unless I say so. They want to please me.

I am their prince, their god, they all worship at the altar of me… and doesn’t it make me feel powerful?

Theodore comes behind me, kissing my neck, pressing to me, smoothing his hands down my front, reminding me I owe myself to him tonight at the end of the night… that he will come to me and let me sleep and let me have a good birthday. He only wants the best for me. He does love me, really.

I survey the crowd and choose two men who have known my bed already, one who has had his eye on me for a while and one whom I’d never seen before, but had a curious look about him.

Turning about to kiss Theodore again, I lead the four men out to the separate room while He starts the bidding for Theodore. Theodore will sell for high, he will make Him proud, make Him happy.