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A White Canvas

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Viggo stared at the canvas and furrowed his eyebrows. No. As much as he had tried to get the perfect mix of colors, the result still didn't match the real thing. It did not have the subtle olive light that the original skin radiated in the light of the fire burning in the hearth. He had spent hours on this! Still, the color on the canvas didn't get close to the way that the skin looked. It wasn’t working! And the canvas remained unpainted, white, with just the small smears of Viggo's unsuccessful attempts of capturing the boy's skin color.

He tried his best not to look at the naked, still boy model sitting on the floor with one long leg bent, the other extended all the way on the floor; his arms formed a triangle to support his weight enough backwards so that his flaccid member was in perfect view, resting in its nest of curly pubic hairs. The smooth chest rose and fell slowly. Orlando was calm, confident, and not giving any importance to the fact that he was so very exposed, so very studied in his nakedness.

Viggo left the pallet of colors on a nearby table and straightened himself in front of the canvas. He crossed one arm around his chest and placed the other elbow on the crossing forearm. Unconsciously, he started to touch his ear as he looked at the white linen. He could feel the brown depths of the boy's eyes following his every move. It was odd seeing Orlando so still, the boy was usually a bundle of energy, and Viggo wondered how long it would be before the incessant tapping of Orlando’s foot would begin.

The muses were playing with Viggo. They didn't want to leave him alone. They were not useful, since as much as he had tried, he couldn't paint this gorgeous boy. But still, they screamed for Viggo to look at him! Look at the inspiring way the olive skin shone, at the way the fire, so close to him, seemed to lick lustfully at what Viggo's tongue wanted to taste so badly: his beautiful face; those wonderful eyes; and the sinful lips that he had kissed more times than he cared to admit, more deeply than any of his just-teaching-teasing-you intentions wanted to mean.

The professor finally gave in to the feeling in his stomach and risked a look at his model. Orlando was already looking at him with the same expression on his face that had made Viggo want to paint him so badly. The same confusing look that had made him stare unblinking at the boy's mouth the day they had been leaning close to one of Viggo's pictures. Their breaths had mingled, and Orlando had licked Viggo's lips to drag the older man's mouth into his own…

Right now, like always, the boy's entire face and body spoke volumes about carnal sin; yet the softness of his eyes, of his smile, the smoothness of his skin over hard muscles spoke of untouched innocence.

Viggo was sure he could never be good enough to transfer that look unto a painting. Calmed and confident; innocent and pure, yet extremely sensual, sensitive, provocative, and experienced. The energy that overflowed the naked boy spoke, too: one minute, Orlando seemed to be a virginal boy; the next, he was a predator that was going to claim ownership of Viggo at any moment.

Their eyes were locked for a long moment. Viggo concentrated on pretending to study what he was going to paint, though he was sure Orlando knew Viggo's intense stare went beyond colors and shapes. Once more, the aura that surrounded his body changed: from little interest in what they were doing to sexual tension. Viggo saw Orlando's body shivering, his skin breaking beautifully in taught goosebumps. His member, flaccid, touching his thigh, started to swell slowly… Youth. They could always get aroused on command.

Quickly, Viggo looked once more at the canvas in front of him, but he still had time to see Orlando smirk, acknowledging his discomfort. "Get naked, Viggo."

After more than two hours in complete silence and contemplation, Orlando's commanding voice broke the little concentration Viggo still maintained. He looked at the boy and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why would I?"

"Because it's cold, and I feel uncomfortable reacting to the chill alone."

There was mischief hidden in Orlando's tone of voice. Or maybe it was not the tone, but the way the brown in Orli's eyes spoke. Viggo couldn't tell what it was, but his own body reacted to it, making him instantly hard. He tried to regain his composure in time to notice that his hand, of its own accord, had stopped touching his ear and was already releasing the buttons of his shirt. He opened two buttons, then stopped and smirked deliberately. "I'll ask you some questions," he said. "If the answer satisfies me, I'll take off one item of clothing. Is that alright?"

Orlando's smile grew wider, naughtier, too, Viggo could swear. "Only if I can say if your question satisfies me," he proposed.

"How would I know if it does?"

"First, because I will answer." Orlando cocked his head to one side.

"And second?" Viggo asked curiously after being sure Orli didn't have more to say.

Now the mischief was real in Orli's smile. "You'll know," he winked at his professor.

"Very well." Viggo agreed.

Orlando moved to support his weight on one arm; the other came to rest on his thigh. "Start with your first question."

Viggo looked at the hand on the strong thigh, unable to help himself. "Have you ever touched someone?"

"Touched? In what way?"


"Yes," Orlando answered without moving or changing the expression on his face.

"Do you… Do you know the ultimate pleasures of the flesh?"

Orli's hand moved slowly up his thigh and rested on his hipbone; his long fingers caressed the skin there carefully. "Since I was very young, I've known the way to make women lift up their dresses and open their legs for me… if that’s what you're asking," he said, smiling wider.

Viggo's eyes were fixed on the part of the skin touched by Orli's fingers, and his mouth suddenly watered. Was that the hint that Orlando had liked the question? In any case, Viggo had liked the answer: he took his shirt completely off. It was true: it was a little chilly in the room even though the fire was close to them. His nipples stood painfully to attention almost immediately. Viggo shivered…and Orlando's hand moved lower, starting to caress his inner thigh.

The professor was very aware of the energy Orlando radiated growing more and more sexual. The fact that they had already kissed, added with the way Orli's fingers touched himself, made it easy for Viggo to ask his next question. "Have you ever been with a man?"

"With a man?" Orlando raised an eyebrow and paused as if he were considering the real meaning of the question, even though Viggo was sure he already knew. "You mean like… just stand by a man's side? Or… touch a man? Kiss him? Make him mine?" the younger man teased him anyway.

Orli's hand traveled farther up until it was so close to his crotch that his fingers brushed against his balls. "Yes…" Viggo was able to choke out.

"Yes, what exactly, Vig?" Orli smirked and took his hand away from his crotch.

Viggo's breath got stuck in his throat at seeing that because it could only mean Orlando had not liked his question or his answer. Viggo's heartbeat strongly in his chest and the need to have Orli's hand back at his crotch almost drowned him. "Ever went beyond kissing with a man?"

Orlando smiled once more with a mix of innocent embarrassment and naughty experience. "Yes; I know the touch of a man," he answered quietly, but his hand didn't move.

"Didn't you like my question?" Viggo couldn't stop himself from asking.

Orlando looked up and smirked. "Didn't you like my answer?"

Viggo looked down at his own body then up at Orlando. "Yes," he whispered and immediately started to remove his trousers. He was achingly hard by now, and he couldn't help but rub his fingers against his arousal, biting down hard on his lower lip to stifle a moan. When his trousers were discarded on the floor, Orli's hand moved upwards to his crotch again. "Ever… ever been… more than touched? Have you ever been owned?" Viggo asked next.

Orlando took some time to consider the question. Or maybe the answer. Or maybe nothing at all as his fingers closed the remaining distance and started playing with his balls. Viggo's throat constricted as he saw Orli's long slim body shivering slightly at his own touch and his cock start to leak. Viggo's blood rushed down to his groin, making him feel like he was about to explode from arousal.

"Yes," Orli answered quietly but confidently after the long pause, "I've been owned, and I have owned another man before."

This time, Viggo didn't need a reminder of the rules of the game. He took off his long underwear in one fast movement, and stood naked, aroused, and annoyingly cold, looking at his male model opening his legs a bit wider, to slowly caress the space between his balls and his entrance.

For some moments, they both looked at each other silently, Orlando still touching himself, on his face, yet again, the confusing look. Viggo gulped. "Ever… Ever been in love?"

"No," Orlando answered quickly. It was the kind of answer that made Viggo think that Orli's hand would stop its movements, but it didn't.

More unconsciously than not, Viggo took two steps closer to his model. Orlando blushed slightly and lowered his head as if he could get away from Viggo's surprised glance. Once more he seemed just an innocent, untouched boy: a virginal young man whose hand moved up his length, whose index finger caressed its way up his cock, rubbing the long, swollen, vein underneath, to finish its journey by squeezing the engorged head, smearing away the clear drop of precum. No. Not so innocent at all.

Viggo knew Orlando was dangerous; very dangerous for him and his long-term resolution of never getting his heart involved in something just like this again. But it was as if there was something, some kind of invisible magnet that drew Viggo closer and closer to all Orlando meant: the mix of innocence and experience; of not knowing what he was doing to Viggo, to himself, and yet knowing it entirely all too well.

Watching Orli touching himself and lost in his thoughts, Viggo was only conscious of having fully crossed the room when he was less than a foot away from him. Orli was studiously watching his feet. Suddenly, the younger man looked up directly into his eyes. He lifted his finger, moist with precum, and put it in his mouth sucking around it wetly. His face was flushed, like with mild embarrassment, as he'd never done anything like that before. But his eyes, bright and heavy with need, indicated otherwise.

"Dom told me you're teaching him," Orlando said suddenly around his finger. Viggo barely managed to swallow the bitter ball made of lustful need he had in his throat. "Would you teach me too, Viggo?" Orlando moved to sit on his heels, his head now at Viggo's crotch level, but still looking up at Viggo's eyes. "Would you teach me to love, please?"

Viggo needed more effort than he thought to make his mouth work. "I can't teach you to love. I… I can't. I'm just showing Dominic the pleasures a man can give, but you know them already." Viggo felt his body tense like it was trying to run away from Orlando's closeness, yet his hips demanded that he thrust forward so that his cock could follow Orli's breath into his mouth.

"I know them, yes," Orlando murmured, lowering his head for a second, looking almost guilty or sad. But in the next second, he lifted it and, without a single moment of hesitance, he took the head of Viggo's cock between his lips. The sudden wet heat around his member made Viggo gasp loudly. His hands moved to touch Orlando's cheeks.

Slowly, Orlando moved forward, taking Viggo's cock in all the way to the root. Viggo, his eyes closed, was unable to keep from gasping loudly once more. Something deep within the older man's mind reminded him that it was all right to introduce naïve boys to the pleasures of sex… But Orlando was not naïve. No. No matter how much he looked like it.

Viggo knew instantly if he allowed Orli to do this, the younger man would not be like Dom: Dominic knew what they were doing and he didn't ask for more than having sex, not for now anyway.

No, Orlando was experienced enough; he was deliberate enough with his touches… Orlando already was asking for more. Teach me to love, Viggo…


Viggo knew if he allowed himself to do this, Orli would become a lover, and lovers claimed one's heart. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Viggo was extremely afraid of that! But what could he do? Now that the head of his cock was hitting the back of Orlando's throat? Now that the sinful mouth was moving away painfully slow, the tongue curling around his hard length?

He heard himself whimpering lamely when Orli opened his mouth. Viggo's cock rested wet and cold on the younger man's lower lip, kept in place by his upper teeth and nothing else.

Viggo looked down and Orlando’s brown eyes were already locked on his, his mouth opened, letting him see his own cock about to enter the lustful warm cavern. The professor was already panting, and at that moment, Orli's tongue curled around the swollen head. The younger man closed his lips around Viggo’s member and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard; and then took Viggo's cock into his mouth. Orlando moaned around Viggo's arousal and the older man became incredibly close to losing control.

He could, in fact, admit that he had already lost it; now that he could feel Orli's fingers rubbing his inner thigh, unstoppable, making him open his legs wider to give him more room while giving him painfully slow, deliberately wet strokes with his tongue. Viggo obeyed to the touch, without giving it a second thought.

When the finger reached its destination and circled Viggo's entrance slowly, the older man shivered hard. He wanted to stop Orli. He wanted to scream 'No!' but he couldn't breathe, and he was not entirely sure why he should stop Orlando. It was that moment Orli's finger broke the tight barrier of muscles and entered his body dryly to the first knuckle.

Viggo tensed around the finger and held his breath unconsciously, closing his eyes tighter. When he exhaled again, he couldn't help but sniffle quietly, making a sound like he was aching. Yet, the pain was in his heart, in his mind, and not in his body.

Orlando released him. "Let me in, Vig,” he pleaded quietly, nuzzling his nose to Viggo's hard cock in the most delicious way.

"I can't," Viggo whimpered, bowing his back a little, protecting himself.

Orli started making small hushing noises, slipping his finger out of Viggo and placing his hands on the older man's hips. Quietly, slowly, still trying to calm him down, Orlando made Viggo sit down beside him. The professor kept his eyes tightly closed even when the younger man caressed his cheeks tenderly and kissed him lightly.

The one and the only person that had ever entered Viggo's body had been Sean, and that thought hurt like hell deep in his soul. Viggo believed that only someone he really loved was allowed to claim ownership of his body, and Orlando's intentions were now clear as water: he was demanding love from Viggo. And Viggo was afraid. Afraid of giving it. Afraid of wanting to give it to this boy.

"Viggo." Orlando kissed his lips with his name, still caressing and warming his cheek. Viggo, scared, shivering, and confused…Viggo opened his mouth for Orli to claim it with his tongue.

The younger man kissed him slowly; caressing him even more gently and carefully like Viggo was made of porcelain and might break. Viggo noticed the tenderness in every single movement of Orli's hands and tongue, and as Orlando pushed him slowly down to the floor, making him rest on his back, Viggo realized that he had never been treated like this in his life.

The American had always been the experienced one, and even though the sex with Sean had been wonderful, amazing, and exciting, in the end, Sean was a hard countryman, rushed and impatient, and so was his lovemaking.

Orlando climbed partly on top of him, cold skin making him whimper quietly. He felt completely different from Sean. His body was lighter, his skin smoother, and his lips thinner and more demanding in a different way. The younger man's long, careful fingers mapped his chest, caressing Viggo's side down to his waist. Orli kissed him without rush, like there was no tomorrow, making Viggo feel needed, cherished, cared for, and… and loved.

Nobody had ever touched or kissed Viggo like Orlando was doing. Not even Sean.

Their bodies rubbed together slowly, warming up their skins. Orli's hand moved lower past Viggo's hip, down his leg, and then inwards to caress his inner thigh. Viggo bent his leg from the knee, giving the curious hand more room; the fingers came again to his entrance, where they rubbed small arousing circles over his hole, relaxing the professor and taking his mind off other thoughts. The touch went on like this for a while, until Viggo's mind stopped thinking and comparing, and his hips lifted a little from the floor, silently asking for more.

Orlando stopped kissing him but his mouth was still very close as he spoke. "I hate to break this moment, but do you have something we can use?"

Orli's voice was husky and intimate, just like his touch, which stopped suddenly because now his fingers were moving up, slightly touching Viggo's balls, and enlacing his aching cock, stroking him leisurely. The professor gasped loudly and thrust into the hand twice before he was able to answer coherently. "There's oil in the third drawer of the painting table," he managed to say.

"Wait for me here, please?" Orlando didn't move or stop his ministrations until Viggo was able to nod.

When the warm body left his own, the chilly air made the professor shiver strongly, and he cursed under his breath. One arm came to hug himself by his waist with the intent of keeping himself warm; the other moved to cover his eyes as Viggo tried his best to think fast.

He tried to discover why it was so easy to bend his will to Orlando: to give up control completely to this boy. Why, when it had been almost ten years since the last time he had allowed himself this feeling? Why couldn’t he take this moment as an opportunity to think of how to twist things around so that he was the one taking Orli, letting it be just some fun, sex, and nothing else? Why did his body feel so numb because Orlando had left him alone?

Viggo was still questioning himself, his actions, his body’s reactions, and the desire to be possessed when Orlando came back, placing the small bottle of oil close by Viggo's side. He felt the younger man putting cold hands on his knees and making him open his legs wider, the younger man kneeling in the free space. The professor opened his eyes and what he saw left him stunned for a second.

The beautiful young man seemed a naïve boy once more. His face was slightly flushed and it showed a kind of fear that Viggo knew very well: Orlando realized what they were about to do and the meaning behind it.

Orli's fears were the last straw: they undid Viggo's heart. The older man's soul gave the boy all the control over Viggo's heart and body.

"Orlando," Viggo murmured, extending his arm in the boy's direction for him to take it.

The younger man's fingers curled around Viggo’s and he allowed himself to be pulled down completely on top of Viggo. Their bodies aligned like they had been made to complement each other, and their mouths were so close, they were sharing their breaths. "Are you scared?" Orlando asked suddenly.

"Very much." Viggo's hands came to surround the boy on top of him and forced it to move slowly, applying friction to their touching cocks and making Orli moan quietly, his dark eyes closing briefly.

"What have they done to you that you are so scared of this?" The younger man asked sadly, touching Viggo's eyebrow tenderly and looking deep into the professor’s eyes.

"They broke my heart, Orli." Orlando’s eyes widened in surprise at the soft but honest answer and the light in them changed. "They broke it so badly I don't know if there's a way to put the pieces together again," Viggo finished.

The younger man leaned in slowly and softly kissed Viggo's lips. "I don't know if I can join them. But would you let me try, Viggo?" Orlando asked, shifting his body weight on one arm and moving his free hand to their groins. He captured their cocks together and started to stroke them slowly.

Viggo gasped and opened his mouth, but Orlando didn't take advantage of his actions. No. He waited until Viggo murmured "Yes. Yes, please…" to finally kiss him deeply.

Orlando's wet tongue possessed Viggo's mouth at the same rhythm his hand stroked them; Viggo intuitively knew that this was the way Orlando was going to take him. Viggo moaned deep in his throat and arched his body, his mouth closing around Orli's tongue and sucking it gently: showing Orlando the way his body was going to take him in.

Moaning deeply, the younger man slid from the kiss and licked Viggo's chin to bite him there gently right after. He went down, licking the professor's throat and sucking small parts of his skin. Viggo was sure Orlando was marking him, but the sensations of being marked, and the arousing rhythm of Orli's hand dedicated now only to his cock, felt so good!

"Orli…" Viggo whimpered, thrusting his hips up. "Orli, I'm not as young as you: make me come and it'll be over," he warned the younger man.

The American could feel Orli smirking against his skin, but Orlando's hand stopped and moved to where he had placed the oil. His eager mouth only stopped kissing Viggo's body to look at what he was doing as he smeared the liquid on his fingers and warmed it. Giving himself a little more room between Viggo's legs, Orli placed his index finger once more at Viggo's entrance.

This time, Viggo knew this was what he wanted, so when Orlando’s finger broke the tight barrier of muscles, it didn't hurt anywhere anymore. "I'm not going to hurt you, Vig," Orli murmured against the professor's mouth. "I’m never going to hurt you."

Viggo received the boy's mouth on his with a wanton sound and his body opened for Orlando, relaxing, allowing the finger to go deeper. He got lost in the feeling of being possessed: he had gone so long without feeling something like this that it felt completely new.

Between deep, lazy kisses, he felt Orlando entering him with two wet, warm fingers; a small moan escaped the younger man's throat. "So tight…" Orli murmured delightedly. His mouth started to travel down Viggo's face to his neck and the older man gasped loudly.

The American felt the gentle care Orlando was applying to the preparation process, and the tingling sensation he had felt at the beginning slowly faded away to be completely overpowered by the feeling of being loved. It was as if Orli preferred him to feel rather than come.

Then, as the mouth of the youth closed around a nipple and his teeth nipped the tit gently, Orlando's fingers twisted inside his channel and rubbed his sweet spot. Pleasure exploded deep within Viggo. He arched his back from the floor and his hips pushed up onto the fingers thrusting within him. "Orli!" Viggo groaned in bliss.

Another finger came to join those inside him as Orlando's attention turned to his other nipple; Viggo hissed a little painfully as he felt the burn of his muscles finally surrendering to Orlando.

"Ready," the professor breathed. "I'm ready, Orli," he urged the younger man.

"Are you sure?" Viggo opened his eyes, seeing the same doubts reflected in the dark depths of Orlando's eyes that he had heard in his voice.

"I'm more than sure," he murmured, grabbing Orli by his neck and pulling him up so that they were able to kiss.

As they kissed, Orlando moved completely on top of Viggo. The professor lifted his legs and wrapped them around Orli’s waist, his feet crossing at the small of his back.

The younger man's cock found its way to his entrance without any other help.

"Wait," Orlando murmured urgently. "Let me, let me… Oil!" But Viggo's feet only pulled him closer. Viggo wanted to silence him, so he pressed his lips against that amazing mouth. "Please!" Orlando still tried to resist.

"Now," Viggo ordered, pressing harder, claiming Orlando's mouth once more.

It was nice to know that even though he was the one being taken, Viggo was still the one in control. It made Viggo feel powerful. He felt the younger man's cock touch his entrance and noticed Orlando's body shivering slightly with anticipation above him.

"Orli… Orlando, look at me."

With difficultly, Orlando did, and Viggo marveled at the brown light in the orbs; the mix of feelings he could read in those amazing eyes: desire, need, lust, love…

"Don't close your eyes, Orlando. I want to see it. In your eyes. I want to see how you love me."

Orlando nodded quickly and then pushed sharply, he broke the tight barrier of muscles as he entered him. Gasping loudly, it was extraordinarily difficult for Viggo not to close his eyes; but he didn't. Their gazes locked onto each other as Orlando claimed him and thrust in as deeply as he could go.

The American felt the pain of the burn, the discomfort of not being accustomed to feeling so full. Orlando stayed perfectly still, and Viggo saw beads of sweat break along Orli's beautifully tanned skin from the effort of holding back, and his eyes closed just a little.

Viggo groaned, feeling Orlando's cock completely inside but motionless, and Orli smirked and kissed him, withdrawing slowly to slam with force into him again until their hips touched.

As his body thrust deeper and harder into Viggo, their kiss became wetter.

"Oh, Orli…"

"Don't close your eyes," Orlando ordered huskily and spiritedly before launching his mouth against Viggo's again.

The professor couldn't tell when he had closed his eyes but immediately obeyed, opening them. His glance locked on Orli, and as they kissed, a powerful wave of arousal traversed Viggo's entire body.

Watching as Orlando's tongue claimed his mouth, those deep brown eyes full of lust locked on his, seeing the way the slim body moved, possessing him; it had to be the most erotic thing Viggo had ever done in his whole life.

He arched up, unable to help it, and groaned deep in his throat. Orlando bit down his chin, sucking the skin, then his tongue moved down and he licked Viggo's neck. Orli tongued and nipped the point on Viggo's neck that throbbed as violently as the American's heart.

With one motion, Orlando's body changed the angle of his hard thrusts into Viggo and the next few hit his sweet spot, making Viggo see stars. He tried not to close his eyes, to go on looking at the way Orlando was making love to him, but then the younger man took him in his hand and started stroking him with the same motion his cock fucked him into the floor.

It was so good. It felt so right! "Let go, Vig. Let go for me."

Hearing Orlando’s order, a white light of pure pleasure blinded Viggo then exploded deep within him and with such intensity, Viggo thought he was going to pass out. He was breathless, full of Orlando, and empty of seed; spent but complete.

With the force of his orgasm, his muscles tightened around Orlando in a vice-like grip; the younger man whimpered, but still managed to thrust twice more before emptying himself completely into the tight channel.

They tried to regain their breaths, Orlando still buried in him, Viggo's hands around the younger man's waist preventing him from leaving his body empty, their eyes locked once more, their mouths just centimeters apart.

The younger man mewled a little, resting his sweaty forehead against Viggo's. "Can you see it?" Viggo asked, his lips curling in a lazy smile.

Orlando smiled too, his breath shaky like his body. "What?" His brown eyes moved left-right-left as if whatever he was looking for could be found in the depths of Viggo’s eyes.

"This little piece of my heart falling back into its correct place." One of Viggo's hands moved to push an errant curl behind Orlando’s ear with incredible tenderness.

Orli turned his head a little into the touch, and Viggo pulled the boy down for a deep kiss.


Viggo was once more in front of the canvas, touching his ear and hugging himself: nude, cold, concentrating. The line of faint tanned pink drawn unto the whiteness of the canvas still wasn't nearly as perfect as Orlando's skin.

Right now, the younger man was sleeping; his long sensual body lying on the floor, covered only by the sheet to his waist, the fabric sculpting his perfectly toned legs under it. One arm served as a pillow and the other rested close to his mouth. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing gentle. His long eyelashes caressed his cheeks and his dark, soft curls framed his angelic face. A feeling of calmness and tenderness, of confidence and love, overflowed the slim body.

He was perfect.

Viggo looked once more at the canvas, then he took benzene and completely removed the single line of color from it. When the linen was dry, he looked at it, satisfied, and then at the sleeping young man. His smile became a proud grin.

Yes, this was it. He had managed to capture Orlando's beauty: his sensuality, his feelings, his love, in a painting. Now it was complete.

A picture void of color, yet full of them; nothing and everything at the same time. Confusing, just like Orlando: the tease of pretending to be just an unused canvas, but already painted. New and used at the same time. Virginal yet not. Dominant yet submissive. Possessor and possessed. Free, yet Viggo's.

This was what Orlando really was, and now Viggo knew.

Orlando was a white canvas.

[The end]