A Captain Dorian story A Chance Encounter
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Shades Of Dorian Gray free porn video
‘Henry! Henry, over here!’
I’m normally a quiet and patient man, but the welcome sight of my good friend Henry entering the hotel rendered me incapable of containing my excitement. I gazed over the heads in the crowded lobby and held up my hand so he could find me. It seemed an eternity before our arms met in a strong handshake and bumping of chests. In my excitement, I nearly crushed my dear friend. ‘I’m sorry, Henry, but it’s so good to see you! Are you all right?’
It takes more than an enthusiastic embrace to ruffle a man like Henry. Lord Henry Wotton, my mentor, my guide into the world of privileged hedonism. Henry recovered quickly, that is to say, Henry maintained his composure as he greeted me with his trademark smile.
‘Dorian, it’s good to see you, as well. It seems like ages since we last spoke. You’ve made this your home, I see.’ I could see the disapproval on his face, that barely perceptible arch of an eyebrow that silently said, ‘You can do better than this, Dorian.’ I dispelled his opinion with a dismissive wave of my hand.
‘Not quite the Waldorf, is it? I’ve been having such fun since selling my place in London. I realized that if one is to travel, one should take nothing that cannot be left behind. I’ve had good fortune finding acceptable lodgings. I should have listened to the concierge at the Four Seasons. He warned me that this hotel was overrated. Drat, this crowded lobby! The bar is even worse.’
‘Why don’t we go up to your room, Dorian? We have much to say, so much to catch up on.’
‘Have no fear, my good friend. I’ve discovered an oasis in this cacophony. I’ve found a tiny room with comfortable chairs and live foliage tucked away in a little corner. Come with me.’
Henry was pleased with my little hideaway, if not slightly amused at the Danish Modern decor. We settled in and Henry resumed our conversation.
‘You don’t miss your house, your cars, and your art collection? Surely, you haven’t parted with your antique car collection?’
‘All gone, sold away at auction and I’ve never felt this liberated in my entire life. What are possessions but a way of saying, I concede, this is my lot in life and I shall travel no more?’
‘How long have you been here, Dorian? Do you plan to remain here for long?’
‘Oh, I’ve come to love Los Angeles. The freeways are a headache, to be sure, but the parking is still better than New York or London.’
Henry is never at a loss for words, usually a clever quip at someone’s expense. I motioned for him to hold his thoughts while I flagged down the passing waitress.
‘Oh, miss, bring us a bottle of your best single malt and two glasses.’ I turned to Henry and said, ‘Unless you would prefer sherry? You were always partial to sherry. I remember you once said that High tea cannot be truly high without sherry!’ Poor Henry was interrupted again by the cocktail waitress.
‘I’ve told you before, Mister Gray, the only thing I can bring you here is either coffee or a soft drink.’
‘I’m sorry, Henry. I’d forgotten the hotel’s policy. Shall we adjourn to the bar?’
‘I’ve had a long day, Dorian. Coffee sounds nice.’
‘I never thought I’d see the day when Henry Wotton took his coffee before dinner. Henry, you’ve changed, or you are an imposter! Where is the rogue who taught me how to enjoy my wealth without guilt or fear? My God, man! Where is your cigarette? I hardly recognize you without the shroud of blue smoke you wear so elegantly.’
‘I learned quickly, Dorian, that smoking is nearly impossible in California.’
‘And now you’ve replaced it with a pen. You hold it exactly the way you’ve held myriads of cigarettes.’
‘It helps,’ Henry replied, ‘Something to keep my hands occupied.’
‘I see you also have a memo pad. Is that part of the cure?’ I relished the rare opportunity to turn the tables on Henry. I am usually content to trust my handsome features to ward off Henry’s famous wit. I’m also fortunate to have Henry as a friend and not the butt of his wry humor.
‘Well, Dorian,’ he said as he struck a jaunty pose, ‘If I’m going to hold a pen, I would be remiss if I didn’t have paper on which to scribble my little cartoons. Someone might mistake me for Bob Dole.’
‘I must say, Henry, California agrees with you. You look wonderful! There is something to be said of an Englishman with a golden tan.’
‘You’re very kind, Dorian, but I doubt your sincerity. My hairline is receding, my teeth are caps and they tell me that all of this sunshine is very hard on the complexion. But look at you! You haven’t changed a bit since the last time we were together.’
There it was, the window of opportunity I anticipated. I’d hoped for more time to reminisce about happier times with my old friend, but I had much to confess, and much to confide. I leaned forward in my chair and grasped his hands in the manner only gay men or old friends can accomplish without scandal.
‘Henry, my friend, have you not seen that my appearance hasn’t changed in all of the time you’ve known me?’
‘That’s true,’ he agreed. ‘You look no different than you did on the day we met.’
‘There is a reason, Henry, and it began on that very day. Perhaps we should continue our conversation in my room.’
‘Wherever you feel comfortable, Dorian, but I must say that I suspect something ominous on your mind.’
‘You haven’t a clue, Henry, but you will know very soon. Come, I’ll cancel the coffee. I’d have it sent up, but I’d rather forego the interruption.’
‘Whatever you wish, Dorian, my time is your time.’ Poor Henry, he had no idea of the magnitude of his words.
Dorian’s Room:
‘Look at this broom closet, Henry! I shall be leaving here soon, but first I must find a suitable abode. I’ve learned that a four star hotel in California is actually barely three, and if one requires four star lodgings, one must seek a five star hotel. Five stars, my word! How many stars must one count to receive a decent meal and a soft bed?’
‘Tell me, Dorian, what is it you wish to say that requires complete privacy?’
‘I’m not sure where to begin—oh, yes! It was the first time we met. Do you remember? We were at Basil Hallward’s studio. I was posing for a painting when you entered in a cloud of smoke with a cocktail in hand. I thought you were the most dashing, uninhibited man I’d ever met.’
‘Have you heard the news, Dorian? Apparently, Basil has gone missing. The word is that the man who boarded the train to Paris wasn’t Basil at all. I’m afraid that Basil has been the victim of foul play. Have you heard anything regarding his disappearance? He was very fond of you. He also considered your portrait to be his finest work.’
‘Of course, he was fond of me! The man was infatuated with my beauty, my handsome face, my golden blonde hair. I was flattered, but he continued to call on me. I was forced to insist that he keep his distance or I would be forced to pursue legal action.’
Henry brought his pen to his lips. He must have realized this habitual error and took it away. I smiled again to see my gallant rogue reveal his vulnerable side, something that occurs rarely. He made a sheepish attempt to conceal his blunder by drawing a stick figure in his little memo pad.
‘I’m worried about him,’ Henry said. ‘I imagine that you are devastated. You must be deeply concerned for our friend.’
‘Our friend?’ I replied. ‘My dear Henry, he was a nuisance. If he were not the best artist, one who has achieved the pinnacle of excellence, I would have nothing to do with the nervous, boring old queen.’
‘Dorian, you sound so callous. I wonder what you must think of me.’
‘Henry, you should know better than to question my affection for you. Basil was jealous, you know, jealous of you and the time we spent without his company. But why should you care? It was you, Henry, who taught me that the future will soon become the present, the
present becomes the past and the past isn’t worth the bother. Life should be lived to its fullest, despite the opinion or actions of those who have no further relevance.’
Henry had no words to refute my own, for he knew them to be true. He is also a master of redirection, and so Henry put his talent to use.
‘I’m sorry to hear that your friendship with Basil was compromised. I would never do that intentionally. It’s been so long since the three of us spent an evening together, I can’t remember the last time I spoke with Basil.’
‘This is awkward for me, Henry. The last time we were together was the evening I implored the two of you to come see that wretched young woman dance. I don’t know what came over me, my friend. I haven’t a clue why I went to such a dismal nightclub in the first place.’
‘It was a strip bar, as I recall,’ Henry said.
‘It was and I apologize again for taking you and Basil there. My mind was so cluttered with an odd infatuation for the girl, I couldn’t see that her talent was a fleeting dash of arousal manifested by a flash of bare skin under the darkened light of that seedy den. I don’t blame the two of you for leaving so abruptly. It brought me to my senses. I held nothing but disdain for her and I told her so backstage after the show.’
‘Her name was Sybil Vane, as I recall. She committed suicide shortly after, didn’t she?’
‘It was the same night. Honestly, Harry, Basil and that little trollop had only one thing in common.’
‘You?’ Henry asked.
‘Not just me, Henry, they were both convinced that my looks, my beauty was their muse. They both believed that without me they could only hope and pray for mediocrity in their respective professions. I’m told the girl was found in her dressing room. She’d poisoned herself with something most distasteful.’ I threw myself into a chair and toyed with the bracelet on my wrist.
‘I read just this morning in the Times that she may have been murdered,’ Henry said. ‘There were traces of hydrogen cyanide found in both the glass and the empty plate on her dressing table.’
‘It isn’t likely, Harry, the girl hadn’t enough wits about her to commit such a deed, although I suspect that it was my rejection that was the cause of her undoing. I hope not, Henry. What a dreadful thing to carry on one’s conscience for all of Eternity.’
‘I wonder, Dorian, if Alan Campbell’s disappearance is more than a coincidence. After all, he is a chemist.’ ‘Harry! Do you suspect our old friend of murder? I wasn’t close to Alan, not as close as I am to you of course, but do you really believe Alan capable of such an act?’
‘You would know his thoughts better than I, Dorian. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that Campbell leaves a room when you appear. There is also the possibility that he himself has fallen victim to foul play.’
The time had come. My debauchery, my crimes must be confronted. I could think of no one else to confide in than my dear friend Harry. Lord Henry, the man who’d taught me not to dwell on anything for too long. It was his habit it to examine an issue, form an opinion and then set it free.
‘My dear Henry, what would you say if I told you that it was I who murdered Basil?’
Henry laughed long and hearty. He reached for a tissue to wipe his eyes while declaring that I was incapable of such a deed. Once again I grasped his hands in mine and searched his eyes for the compassion he always displayed for our friendship.
‘Harry, someday when we’ve a fire on the hearth and a snifter of brandy in our hands, I will tell you the details of my deeds. I do not feel remorse, for I know that my actions were justified, but it was I, Dorian Gray, who took the life of Basil Hallward.’
Henry took my words, examined them and would have crumpled them into the waste basket had they been tangible. He smiled in his easy, reassuring manner that soothed my battered nerves. I felt relieved. I should have confided in my old friend months ago.
‘My dear boy,’ he said. ‘The Dorian Gray who I have come to know isn’t capable of such an atrocious act of violence. If I were put upon to accuse anyone in our circle of friends of such a crime, it could only be Alan Campbell and even Alan is a feeble suspect. True, he is a chemist and has access to myriads of chemicals and poisons, but what could be his motive? He barely knew Basil and to my knowledge he’d never made the acquaintance of the unfortunate girl.’
It was difficult to confess my crime even to my best friend, but I felt it must be done. ‘Harry, Basil came to me the night he was leaving for Paris. He took me to task, dear friend. He told me of his concern over the tongues waging a war on my private life.
I admitted that it was true that I’d been dressing in disguise so that I may visit the dark and foreboding places where a man of my station would never enter. He said that I had been seen coming and going in places far more detestable than the dismal cabaret where I introduced you to the wench who’d wormed her way into my heart. I did not deny that I have experimented with the vices associated with the bottom rung of our society. I admitted freely that I’d smoked the little stones that cause such turmoil in one’s mind.
‘I have listened to those tongues, as well, Dorian. The words they speak are not kind. Decadent hedonism is a right granted by our station in life. Nevertheless, dear boy, we must be careful not to damage our heath in a manner that would prevent us from seeking the pleasures of Life.’
‘That is why I brought you to my room, Henry. I have something to show you.’ I went to the closet and retrieved the portrait Basil had painted of me. I held it behind my back before presenting it to Henry.
‘You remarked earlier that my appearance hadn’t changed in the time we have enjoyed the company of each other. I would like to explain. You may remember having a little fun at my expense. You made the observation that the painting no longer portrayed an honest depiction of me, for while I continued to age, the painting shall remain forever locked in the moment when Basil signed his name to his work.’
‘I’m not sure if you recall my wish that the reverse could be true. It was a wistful comment that has come to pass. Harry, my dear friend, that is the reason why my appearance is so much younger than yours, and yet we are of approximately the same age.’
Henry was understandably confused. His faux cigarette moved rapidly from his lips to his fingers to the little note pad in which he composed his sketches. I knew he didn’t believe my words and can you blame him? I dramatically showed him with the portrait Basil had painted of me over twenty years ago.
‘Now you see the secret to my youth, Harry. My little wish came true! It is the portrait that has aged and not I. See for yourself the lines and wrinkles which line my face. See the blemishes and liver spots which adorn the portrait and not I. Can you not see that the painting isn’t content to merely display my age, but every act of violence, every crime I have ever committed or vice I have purchased is there to observe and condemn.’
‘Dorian, I don’t know what to say. You have given me much to ponder. Pardon my candor, but I don’t know which disturbs me most, your confession of the murder of Basil Hallward or the unusual properties of the portrait he made of you.’
‘My dear Henry,’ I said. ‘I did not intend to distress you. I needed to unburden myself of the vile words which have attacked my composure and been such a detriment to my well-being.’
‘I just cannot entertain the idea that you could be capable of murder. Tell, me, Dorian, how did it occur?’
‘The entire, horrid mess that was my life came together in that one moment. I stood over Basil as he gazed at his painting and denied that the work was his own. He continued to berate me for actions that were of no concern to him except for the evidence presented in the painting he rebuked. I saw the knife on the table a
nd in a fit of rage buried the blade into his heart.’
‘And what of Basil, Dorian? Do you feel remorse for him?’
‘I am weary of the outcome of my actions. Basil has proven to be far more difficult in death than he ever was in life.’
(Judge’s chambers, Los Angeles County Courthouse)
Robert Volmer, the attorney for the prosecution retrieved the DVD disc from the machine and pumped his fist in triumph. ‘At last! We finally have all we need to bring him to trial.’ Dana Hendricks, Walter Gray’s court appointed attorney, took exception.
‘You don’t have anything, Bob,’ she said to the attorney for the prosecution, and you,’ she glared at the psychiatrist scornfully. ‘You agreed before we began that you would do and say nothing to encourage his delusions. Your Honor, you have to agree that my client’s rights have been violated. I ask that all charges are dropped and Mr. Gray released immediately.’
Judge Grace Anderson ran her fingers through her silver hair and sighed heavily. ‘Let’s all calm down, shall we? Dr. Spencer, you agreed to refrain from giving any credence to Mr. Gray’s behavior and yet that is precisely what you have done. You may have allowed this man to go free based solely on your actions.’
‘I am not in the business of law,’ replied Jim Spenser, ‘I’m a psychiatrist, and my first priority is the health of my patient. This was the first time he’s deviated from the novel, I decided to see where it would go. As you have just witnessed, it was a breakthrough for my patient and a confession for you.’ Dana was out of her chair in an instant.
‘He confessed to killing the character in a novel! Next you’ll be telling me that he’ll be bunkmates with Morgan Freeman! Honestly, Bob, how do you keep your job?’
‘Really, Dana?’ the prosecutor said sarcastically. ‘The Shawshank Redemption?’
‘That’s enough!’ the judge cried. The room was suddenly stone quiet, the papers Judge Anderson sifted and shuffled and the ticking grandfather’s clock in the corner were the only sounds in the chamber. She stopped with a page in each hand. The psychiatrist, the attorneys for the defense and for the prosecution recognized the photos she held. She studied the blotter on her desk as she ruled on the case of Walter Gray vs. the State of California.
‘Dr. Spenser’s agreement was verbal and since there is no written language to support it, it is therefore not only acceptable but admissible in the courtroom.’ The veteran judge held up a hand before the doctor and the defense attorney could object.
‘That said, I agree with his attorney’s opinion that Mr. Gray’s confession was invalid.’
Judge Anderson looked up from her desk and continued.
‘I am postponing Mr. Gray’s trial and remanding him to his current placement, where he will continue his treatment with Dr. Spenser and his staff.’
‘Until Mr. Gray is able to look in the mirror and recognize the photos taken at the time of his arrest,’ she held up the photographs of an emaciated, glassy-eyed meth addict for all to see. ‘Mr. Gray will remain under hospital care. Mr. Gray will stand trial when his mental state can distinguish that this,’ She turned their attention to the photograph in her other hand, ‘Is not a painting that is keeping him young, but a copy of his high school senior yearbook picture.’
She allowed the photo of the handsome young man to fall through her fingers and onto her desk.
Once their business was concluded, the atmosphere in the judge’s chambers became less formal, the room was populated now by four people who saw each other often. As papers were passed around and signed, Bob Volmer couldn’t resist sniping at Dana.
‘Congratulations, Dana, another murderer spared from prison. Did you even look at the crime scene photos? Only a monster would attempt to destroy two bodies with swimming pool acid.’
Dana wasn’t ruffled by her adversary’s remark. ‘We’re not setting him free, Bob. Take comfort in the knowledge that Walter Gray will spend the rest of his life in a mental institution.’
‘I doubt you’ll find much comfort there,’ Dr. Spenser said.
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