Gastien Pt 1

by Caddy Rowland

During the night, his mother appeared in his dreams. He heard her saying the words she spoke on the day he left. “Paint, Son. That is who you are. Just paint. You will find a way. Stay open to possibility, and humble yourself if you have to, for the chance to paint. Don’t be a prideful ass like your father. Sometimes the biggest risks have to be taken for the greatest satisfactions.”

  Then, in the dream, she opened her arms, and Gastien fell into them, sobbing. “It is all right, Gastien, it is all right. I love you, Son. You will make it. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. Just stay focused on the dream.”

  When he woke up in the morning, he knew his mother understood and forgave him. All the same, he decided he would be smart enough to take some of that paper off the roll in the bathroom, tucking it inside his gold wrap from now on. It would come in handy after Jean Luc climaxed. He would be discreet. There was no reason to ruin the mood for Jean Luc. Just keep the money coming.

  XVII

  As time passed, Gastien got more used to the arrangement. It still bothered him, of course, but as the money grew, his bad feelings shrunk. It was just a means to an end, after all. He finished Jean Luc’s portrait a few weeks early, therefore he started on Annah’s. Jean Luc’s had gone faster because there was not as much detail to the clothing and hair. Also, Gastien was getting more confident with his painting every day. It was now the end of March. He had been working with Annah for two weeks.

  Some weeks, Jean Luc came to him four nights a week. Those weeks were very trying for Gastien. Some weeks, though, Jean Luc only managed to come to him one or two times because of business obligations. During that time, Gastien was still obligated to stay at home, except for his days off, unless Jean Luc was out of town. During those times he got a lot more of his own work done. He knew he was doing some nice things. He could not wait to show Mic and the others.

  One afternoon while he was painting Annah, she looked at him and said, “How are you holding up, Gastien? Are you all right?”

  He paused, paintbrush in mid air. Did she know? “What do you mean, Annah?” he asked casually.

  Annah laughed. “Oh, please. Do you think I don’t know? I have been married to the man for almost sixteen years now, and he has not touched me. I saw the first night you waited on us at Le Procope how his eyes followed you. However, I did not think you were homosexual. That surprised me. I had heard so much about your expertise with women. I had always hoped to sample that expertise myself.” She stopped, waiting for him to answer.

  Gastien should not have been surprised, but he was. Mon Dieu, what was with this family? They all sniffed at him like dogs in heat! Still, he had to admit that he found all three females extremely desirable. “I am not homosexual, Annah. Not in the least,” he stated quietly.

  Annah laughed. “What would you call lying in bed with another man, then? Passing the time?”

  Gastien put down his brush. “Non. I would call it a business agreement,” he said simply.

  Annah did not hide her surprise. “A business agreement? He pays you?”

  “Oui. He pays me quite a lot. I will have enough money to live without fear of starving for a good two years, while I build my reputation in Montmartre. That was my dream. Unfortunately, I saw no other way to achieve it. He wanted me. I wanted my dream.” Saying it, though, sounded hollow.

  Annah looked at him with disgust. “I see. So you are a high priced male prostitute. How lovely.”

  Gastien flushed and his anger rose. “It is easy for you to judge, sitting in your fine house! You have never had to want for a thing! I have lived on the streets. I have eaten from garbage bins so that I would not die! I slept every night with a knife in my hand, in case someone tried to kill me for my blanket. Don’t you judge me! I could say the same about you. You laid with one man for his fortune and were willing to do the same for his brother. The only difference is, you have a legal document for it. In my book, that is still whoring yourself.”

  Annah laughed. “Well, you do have balls! I should be insulted, but you are quite right. No one ever says it, but I have often thought that many arranged marriages are legalized prostitution.” She was silent a moment. “I am sorry I judged you, Gastien. I had no idea your life had been so hard. I truly am sorry. Do you forgive me?”

  Looking at her quietly, Gastien decided she was sincere. “Oui. You are forgiven. I know what it must look like. Annah, I am sorry that I have dishonored you by being with your husband.”

  “If it was not you, I imagine he would have found someone else. I can’t compete with a man. Don’t worry about it. However, I did mean what I said. I would like to sample your famous sexual skills.”

  “I don’t think Jean Luc would be as forgiving as you, Annah. I would love to accept, but I don’t want to lose my position here.”

  “You mean you don’t want to lose out on some of your money.”

  “Isn’t that why people are hired? To make money?” questioned Gastien.

  “Oui, of course.” Annah leaned forward, staring at Gastien intently. “Don’t write me off so easily. I may appear elegant and controlled, but when I want something, I generally get it. Unless you don’t find me attractive?”

  “Of course I find you attractive. What man wouldn’t? I fought an erection every time I waited on you!” confided Gastien.

  “Well, then let’s drop it for now. But someday, Gastien, we will be lovers. I can be patient.”

  “I look forward to that time, Annah. It would be lovely to feel myself inside you.” Gastien felt himself responding physically.

  She stretched. “I am sorry, but I need to move a bit. It does get tedious sitting in one position. Let’s call it a day.”

  “As you wish, Annah.” Gastien walked around from the easel. When Annah stood, he reached out, pulling her to him. He kissed her long and deep, taking his time. The kiss lasted a good three minutes. When he stopped, he looked into her eyes. “That was just in case you doubted that I find you attractive.”

  She was breathing heavily. “That was some kiss!”

  “Oh, Annah,” Gastien laughed huskily, “I was just getting warmed up!” He walked away and went into the bathroom. He called out, “See you tomorrow.”

  Annah answered, “Oui. See you tomorrow.” She liked the way he kissed. It was a very experienced, sure kiss that made her feel the heat between her thighs. So, the rumors are right, she thought, the man does know how to drive a woman crazy. Smiling, she made her way back to the house.

  Gastien would never have done that had Jean Luc not ended up being something other than what he first pretended to be. Jean Luc might try to tell himself he was honest with me, Gastien reasoned, but he wasn’t. He did not want me as a son. He always wanted me for a lover. Well, now I want his wife for a lover! That was no more deceitful than Jean Luc had been. He just had to be careful of his timing. He did not need to be caught in the act, nor did he need to be around if his wife ended up pregnant. For Jean Luc sure as hell would know that he himself had not fathered the child.

  XVIII

  Gastien had become an expert at compartmentalizing one “life” from another. He thought he was doing well, that he was in control. In realty, this dual life was causing a major change in his personality. It was also altering his belief systems and values. Because he had needed to be strong to survive the things he had endured in the past, he erroneously believed that now he could handle anything. He was wrong. This would cause him a great deal of mental anguish off and on for the rest of his life. He was disassociating himself from the situation he found himself in. As this disassociation grew stronger, it would soon be almost impossible for him to be who Gastien really was. The real Gastien was buried deep, where he could not feel the pain. The Gastien that walked around now was numb, functioning only for survival.

  Because of this, he was making (and would continue to make) some choices over the next few months that would not paint him in a very pleasant light. Gastien began to actually enjoy the power he seemed to have over
Jean Luc. He found that he could get Jean Luc to buy him gifts, which Gastien insisted had to be jewelry. Gastien had no need for more nice clothes. They would not suit him in Montmartre. But jewelry could be sold, the money put to good use. He planned on selling every piece of jewelry Jean Luc gave him once he left the estate. Jean Luc was not so filthy rich that the jewelry was worth ridiculous sums of money, but he could afford quite expensive pieces. Gastien knew that, if he got enough jewelry, he would have a nice sum of money to add to his savings.

  It is very hard for anyone to experience the kind of wealth that Gastien was getting used to and not become a slave to it. When you add in the fact that he had been homeless, this made the money even more addictive. Gastien was becoming very hard edged. He no longer thought in terms of kindness at all. He only thought about what he could get from people before they got something from him. It was an ugly period of his life. It would get even uglier before he left Jean Luc’s estate.

  Gastien found that he liked to taunt Jean Luc with his body. He felt that if he gave Jean Luc exactly what he was asking for, a good performance, Jean Luc would eventually tire of him. Perhaps then the man would not come to him so often. However, he wanted him to come to him often enough to keep the money coming.

  He learned to use his tongue wickedly all over Jean Luc’s body, inciting him to new levels of need. He had always been an expert kisser, now he used that expertise on Jean Luc’s mouth, which set Jean Luc on fire. Gastien found that he did not even need to spit into the toilet paper anymore after servicing Jean Luc. The taste no longer bothered him. It was the taste of money. What Gastien failed to realize is that using sex for power is like handling a loaded gun, and soon that gun was going to go off.

  On Gastien’s days off, he would swing from one extreme to another. Sometimes he would go to the 6th and indulge in heavy drinking and hashish, other times he would drink lightly and involve himself in sex with various upper class women. The more women he could have, the better he felt. It was a way to prove that he was not in any way a homosexual.

  He began to talk the women into threesomes, and sometimes foursomes, always with him as the only male. His lovemaking with these women was anything but. Gastien became quite brutal during the sex act, not caring how hard he used the women. He pounded into them as many times as he could get it up. He used them every way he could think of. Most didn’t complain, because he also rewarded them with his tongue. The few that didn’t like it simply made sure they stayed out of his way in the future. In spite of this, his reputation as a lover grew. Being seen as dangerous seemed to be an aphrodisiac to the bored women of wealth. He would come back to the estate sexually drained but feeling very empty. He never understood why.

  Other times during his time off he would see no one. During these times the real Gastien came back to the surface. He would go into the heart of the city to paint, eat somewhere alone where no one knew him, and come home to go to sleep early. Sometimes, he simply read all day. Rarely did he go without painting, but a few times he simply lost himself in a novel. His body and his mind wanted a rest. Gastien did not let that rest last long. If the real Gastien was out for any length of time he could not stand the anguish. After a couple of days off like that, he would disassociate again.

  Then, after a week of Jean Luc, Gastien would be hell-bent to get back to the 6th and abusing his body with more sex, but with women. If Mic or Nath would have first met him during these times, they would have been sickened by the person he now was. Although he did not realize it, Gastien was heading for a breakdown.

  He did still write to Nath, but never confided in her about Jean Luc. She could sense he was holding something back, but she felt that he would tell her if he wanted her to know. Also, she was busy in her new life. Gastien simply could not be her problem. She cared, but she could not care enough that she got hurt again.

  XIX

  One weekend while visiting Montmartre, Mic asked Gastien what was wrong.

  “Nothing!” snapped Gastien. Ashamed, he added, “Sorry. Why would anything be wrong?”

  Mic looked worried. “Gastien, you have changed. You are so hard now! So driven to make sure you drink the most, get the highest, brag the most about your conquests in Paris. What is going on with you?”

  Gastien got angry again. “Mic, I am coming here to have fun! We all drink and smoke hashish, including you! Why do you want to make something out of nothing? I am just able to drink more, I guess.”

  Mic sighed. “But that’s the problem. You aren’t able to. You are so drunk by the end of the night you wouldn’t find your way home without someone helping you back to our studio. You usually pass out when you get back, only to start over again the next day. You don’t even remember what you did the night before! We don’t talk enough to catch up on what is going on in our lives. For you, it is all about getting as messed up as possible as quickly as possible!”

  “Stay out of my business, Mic,” growled Gastien.

  “Gastien, please…I am your best friend!” pleaded Mic.

  “And if you want to stay that way, then drop it!”

  “I can’t! Something wrong is going on! I want to know what it is.”

  “I SAID DROP IT!” yelled Gastien. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND? END OF SUBJECT!”

  Mic backed down then, but the rest of the weekend was strained. When they said goodbye, Gastien apologized. “Mic, I am sorry. I won’t be this way once I move here. I am going through a tough time.”

  Mic embraced him. “Just try to find the old Gaz back ok? I miss him a lot.”

  Gastien smiled sadly. “I miss him, too.” He turned and got on the cabriolet.

  XX

  But, of course, he remained the same. He had to in order to get through the spring and summer. It was mid April now, and he would be done with Annah’s portrait by the end of the month. They had become lovers at the beginning of April. Gastien had hesitated, stating that he did not want to be around if she got pregnant and Jean Luc found out. Annah insisted that if she did, she would not show, anyway, the first trimester. Annah wanted another child. She was 34, almost too old. She wanted just one more to hold in her arms. Since she could not get one from Jean Luc, she would be happy if Gastien did indeed impregnate her.

  “What could Jean Luc say if he did find out, Gastien?” she scoffed. “Stop it, because I am screwing Gastien, so you can’t? He would not dare! He does not want to take the chance that the truth would come out if he angered me.”

  Gastien had turned white. “What did you say he did to me?” he asked coldly.

  “I said he screws you. Does it surprise you that I can be crude?” she inquired, not knowing what really bothered Gastien.

  “Non, I could care less about that. However, I want you to know that Jean Luc does not, and will not ever “screw” me. Never! I just never realized that you would, of course, assume that.”

  Annah looked surprised. “You mean he pays you all of that money, yet has never had your sweet little cul?”

  Gastien blanched. “Non, he has not! No man ever will! I use my mouth on him. That is all.”

  Annah laughed loudly. “Oh, poor Jean Luc! He must be totally besotted with you then. Imagine, paying all of that money and not getting free reign! Either he is completely crazy, or you have a very talented tongue.”

  Gastien smiled at her. “Come here and I will show you what I can do with my tongue,” he teased.

  They became lovers that same day. Afterward, Annah realized that Gastien was right. He had a very talented tongue. She had to agree that Jean Luc was quite likely getting his money’s worth.

  XXI

  As mid May approached, things seemed to be going along fine. Unknown by Gastien, however, there was a problem. Jean Luc was not growing tired of Gastien. In fact, the opposite was happening. He was now completely obsessed with the young man. He had even started bragging to other homosexuals he had recently met about how talented Gastien was, how handsome. He knew they were jealous, but he could not stop talking
about him. Mon Dieu, he lived and breathed that man!

  The best thing was, he was sure that Gastien now felt the same way. The way he kissed, the way he used his tongue, the sexy things he said, all indicated to Jean Luc’s convoluted mind that Gastien had moved beyond playing a part and was as deeply involved as he was. He understood Gastien’s hesitation to express it. He would probably be shy about being seen around Paris on Jean Luc’s arm, because he had never admitted to being homosexual. It would be hard for him.

  Then Jean Luc thought of the answer. Brilliant! He would buy a month at Nice on the Riviera! That was somewhere that the two of them could be alone night and day. If they chose to go out at night, there would be many wealthy homosexuals with their flames around. It was a favorite haunt of theirs. Gastien could feel “normal” there with Jean Luc. They would cement their relationship in Nice, making plans for their future. Annah would be hurt, but he would make sure she was financially well taken care of. He could then start the rest of his life with his true love. His Gastien.

  Jean Luc made the travel arrangements, sparing no expense. He would have nothing but the best for his lover. He could not wait to get home to tell Gastien about it! After eating dinner quickly, Jean Luc hurried down to Gastien’s door. He knew it was early. Gastien would not be expecting him yet. That was just fine. Gastien did not have to be in his smoking jacket to hear about the fabulous surprise!

  Gastien had just finished eating dinner. He was really looking forward to doing some painting. When he heard Jean Luc calling to him outside the door, he was irritated. Mon Dieu, what is he doing here so early, Gastien thought. He never shows up right after dinner, unless he wants to just talk or play chess. Sighing, Gastien went to the door.

  “Jean Luc! I am not in the mood for chess or talking tonight. I am so sorry. I really, really want to paint. Can you forgive me?” Gastien tried to keep his voice even. It was getting tedious always being under Jean Luc’s beck and call.