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A portrait of Adrian Wotton Empty A portrait of Adrian Wotton

on Mon May 07, 2018 11:17 pm
The Morning after

The pale remnants of last night's smoke twirled through the morning air, flitting through the thin beam of sunlight that penetrated a tiny crack between the curtains; oblivious to the three figures entwined in the bed. Deep in his own head, Adrian saw the shadowy figure of an older man; his father, he guessed through the haze of last nights excess, berating him for something - for being la-

"Shit!", Adrian awoke with a start; bringing a scream from his nighttime companions. The party; it was tonight! "Father is literally going to kill me", he announced to the two still-sleepy figures. He took a deep breath, savouring the last remnants of opium on the air, mixed with other smokes, and the unmistakable smell of sex. A glance at the figures in the bed didn't tell him a great deal - a man and a woman, both In their early twenties he guessed, and attractive enough. Not a sliver of recognition reached his mind.

Clothes quickly donned; guests casually evicted; and the last half-glass of last nights wine gulped down, Adrian stumbled to the door, filled with a cocktail of excitement and trepidation. He was inevitable going to be in deep shit for not being home last night; but uncle Henry was coming! Adrian owed a lot to his uncle Henry, a man who's hedonistic outlook had brought endless pleasure to his nephew. And a man of whom his parents vastly disapproved. Stepping into the streets outside his city-centre apartment, Adrian quickly raised his hand to his eyes; the midday sun was brighter than he would have liked with this headache.

"Ugh", he moaned, half blinded, as he stumbled into the street to hail a hansom. The driver gave half a smirk at the mention of Wootton House, and whipped the horses into action. Adrian slowly smoked his breakfast on the way - new American imports; very rich, very smooth, exquisite, 'Always leave one unsatisfied'; his uncle's words of wisdom floated through his head. A glance in his mirror-polished cigarette tin told him he was in no way prepared to see his parents.


Adrian, after something of a tidy-up in the back of the cab, was almost unearthly handsome - the figure that strolled so casually up the driveway to Wotton House could steal the heart of so many people; male or female - in many cases it already had, if only temporarily. Approaching the house, he flicked out his cigarette and steeled himself - he should have been here hours ago. Wagons rolled up and down the drive in an almost constant stream, as hired hands swarmed around, putting preparations in place - clearly his parents were sparing no expense for tonight.

"Need I ask?", a booming glaswegian voice roared across the driveway. His father was anticipatedly angry. Of course. Adrian, his own accent rather less pronounced, responded with a sheepish acknowledgement of his previous nights... *ahem* activities. His father was an authoritarian man, current head of a wealthy family, and proudly Christian. Mother was a timid woman, her own views undisclosed; but she kept an immaculate house, and we'll stocked, at least for parties. And tonight was to be the event of the season.

Inside, Adrian scurried to the bathroom, grateful for the modern plumbing, and thanked the absent servants for having lit the chandelier (his parents were far, far too suspicous to allow this -newfangled electricity' anywhere near water) and drawn a fresh bath. He soaked for an hour, intermittently calling through Christina (now there was a story!) For fresh wine, grinning each time she lingered longer than was at all necessary!

"Maybe later, my dear", he purred - she was skilled in ways that would horrify his parents; by far his favourite of the staff. Eventually, he rose from the bath, smiling broadly at Christina's wide eyes, and idly allowed her to do most of the work in getting him dried, flirting shamelessly all the while, doubly so when she put extra effort into all the places serving girls shouldn't.

"Well, if you insist", he smiled, now thoroughly dried off, and pressed his hands to the top of her head; gasping In mock surprise as she dropped hurriedly to her knees.


The sun set gloriously over the Glasgow skyline as the night's guests started to arrive; opulent carriages drawn by immaculate horses, as nigh on all of Scotland's most influential persons arrived, each with their families and accompanying servants. Adrian sighed inwardly over his cigarette; realising how hard his father was going to try to marry him off - an idea that sat rather uncomfortably with his lifestyle. But uncle Henry - he'd be suggesting the far more entertaining idea's. And there was always the guests servants; with whom Adrian always found he had quite a way!

Eventually, as the sun disappeared completely from view, the unmistakable carriage of Lord Henry Wotton pulled up the drive; all the way from London to see his Brother's family - it was of course mostly a formality, the two got on famously poorly. As the carriage door opened, and the driver lowered the stairs; Lord Henry stepped forth with his usual almost ageless grace, followed by... A young man, roughly Adrian age. He was immaculate, rivalling; perhaps even surpassing even Adrian; with a look of enchantment in his eyes that said he too had embraced Lord Henry's lifestyle.

Adrian smiled inwardly, and gradually outwardly too, as the two men approached. Henry introduced the youth as Lord Grey, London's most eligible bachelor. Lord Grey shared an unmistakable glance with Adrian before; not a beat missed; offering him a cigarette from a similarly mirrored case - Lord Henry was neither shy nor imaginative with his gifts. Accepting gracefully, Adrian sparked up a cigarette, only half listening to Grey's explanation of its egyptian origin; transfixed with the boys charms.

"I hope you don't mind", said Lord Henry to Adrian, "but I've arranged for Dori- sorry, Lord Grey to stay in Glasgow for a month or so - your parents seemed to think it would be best if he stayed in your apartment"? Adrian struggled for words as Lord Grey winked over his uncles shoulder at him.

"I... I- err, I'd be delighted", Adrian finally managed to stutter; turning to walk into his parents mansion with the two English lords in tow; already beginning to make the appropriate arrangements. The night started, as Adrian had begrudgingly learned high society ones do, rather slowly; with Adrian sitting in a comfortable corner suite with the two lords, attended by a procession of wide-eyed servants - even Christina seemed to give a second glance to Lord Grey before shooting Adrian an apologetic look. Around the midnight mark, most of the less interesting people had left, or at least moved on to their designated rooms. Adrian, of course, remained sat with lords, Christina and a couple more servants Adrian didn't recall had placed themselves nearby, ostensibly to serve the trio, but their wide-eyed gazes suggested otherwise.

"Well, it looks like you two fellows are in for an exciting night", smirked Lord Henry over his brandy, "Though I imagine Lord and Lady Wotton would prefer that anything noisy be taken to Adrians apartment!" Smiling at the looks on the younger people's faces, Lord Henry stood, offered a final round of cigarettes to a traditionally quick uptake, and retired himself to his room. A few glances and smirks suggested that Adrian, Lord Grey, Christina, and the 4 remaining servants would be travelling into town - Lord Grey assured the group that Henry's carriage would be available.

The "morning" after (again)

As Adrian awoke, the previous nights pleasure came flooding back to him - the drugs, the sex, the booze, the... what was that feeling he remembered? It had been a euphoria like none he'd experienced. He recalled being well and truly entwined with Lord Grey; a sharp pressure at his neck between kisses; and wave after wave of unparalleled pleasure - even by his own standards. Sitting up and surveying the room, he saw the servants of the night before, Christina with her familiar look of happiness, sprawled across the four-poster; and... Lord Grey, reclined in Adrians finest armchair, with a glass of wine. Probably the most appealing looking wine Adrian had eve- Wait. Was it...? Was it already night again?

"Night?", Adrian muttered, wholly failing to articulate the point he'd so eloquently assembled in his head, "is it already night time?"

"Ah, good morning, my dear", sighed the young Lord, his voice even silkier than Adrian recalled, "I believe you have rather a lot to learn".

"Wha- what do you mean?" Retorted Adrian, deeply puzzled, and... curiously lacking in the much anticipated hangover. He certainly thought a lot of questions needed answered; but he wasn't going to go making a fool of himself. Lord Grey offered the glass of wine, which, on closer view smelt... overwhelmingly delicious, though not at all wine-y. Adrian drank deeply, almost immediately feeling a wave of Euphoria - milder, but not dissimilar to the one he recalled from the night before.

Over the next hour or so, Lord Grey explained a great deal to Adrian; the gift/curse he'd received, the ins and outs of what would be his new life- basically, Vampirism. Adrian felt a rush of feelings all at once; excitement, fear, anticipation... hunger. And if what Lord Grey said was true, this was no ordinary hunger. Slowly, tentatively, Adrian knelt down to Christina, (still his favourite, he thought to himself) and pressed his teeth against her neck...


The blare of a wagon's air horn of the flyover outside stirred Adrian from his daydream, well... night-dream. What a night that had been; and oh, how much it had changed. Well, he thought, being honest? It hadn't really changed a great deal - life was still all about pleasure and enjoyment, just different types, and at different times! With a deep cough, he stood up, stretching in the moon's rays as they streamed through the windows. Maybe it was starting to take its toll? Adrian dismissed the thought - that's not how it works any more! Still a little drowsy, he stumbled through the halls of his ancestral home, making eyes at the latest wave of serving staff - he'd learned long ago how many questions could be raised if he kept any for too long! Checking the clock In the hallway (1am, perfect), he dropped a call to Gordon - that's Mr Kenny to you - to see how the club was doing. Well, as it turned out; or that's what he assumed from the sheer din on the other end of the phone! Smiling, he left the house, taking a casual stroll to the end of the drive where his Taxi was waiting, and, with a due sense of excitement and nausea, set off towards the centre.
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