Mentoring

I sat for Master Ashen twice for the casting of the bronze statue and three times for the painting. I was posed by a loom, stripped to the waist, to show the heat and strenuous requirements of factory atmosphere, and with my fingers pushing threads into place below a descending shuttle, my close concentration on what I was doing a focus of the art work. He arranged the lighting so that a beam of light fell on my face and chest while, other than that, the scene was in shadows. The painting was rendered in sepia colors.

He concluded each of the “draw boy” sessions by coming between me and the loom, pulling my trousers off my legs, parting my thighs, hunching over me with just his hard cock exposed through the fly in his own trousers, and fucking me to his ejaculation.

“The Draw Boy” is what he titled both of the factory works, and you can visit the painting at London’s Harrow Museum of art even today. Ashen kept the sculpture in his own collection after exhibiting it, and it has disappeared into a private collection.

After sex he would take up his sketch pad and do post-coital pencil sketches of me. When he ultimately was forced to depart London—and England altogether—under charges of pedophilia some ten years later, he caused quite a sensation in France by exhibiting these sketches—in a large collection of more young men he “mentored” than just me. By the end of the exhibit all of the sketches had been bought and disappeared into private collections.