A Jewel in the Dirt - 4. Hierarchies exist everywhere - and usually you start at the very bottom

Dante dipped the brush into the bucket of water and grimaced when a splash hit him next to the eye. His hands were bloated and aching, his back and knees ached no less. He had just put the brush back on the floorboards when, with a cheerful shriek, five-year-old Jack ran through the banquet room, followed by Maisie and Jessy. The naked children's feet left prints and a few blades of grass and Dante swallowed hard instead of calling after them, what was furious laying on the tip of his tongue.

The Mistress, in whose possession he had learned to drive, had made him wipe one of her rooms for every mistake and curse, no matter how quiet, during the driving lessons. Even weeks after he had passed his driving exam, he had swung the mop every day and bit his tongue. He had hated it, but marble, tiles and sealed parquet were a joke compared to the floorboards he had in front of him.

"Make yourself useful," he repeated Mistress Alice's words from breakfast, mimicking her dismissive tone. With a groan he threw the brush into the water bucket and stretched his back, which cracked twice.

Why couldn't his mistress be a bit more like her brother? Frank had told him cheerfully at breakfast that he and Tom were taking care of the wood that was being cut in the forests of the area. He had told him about the tree house that he, Tom and Blaise had built for the children in the spring. Mistress Alice, on the other hand, had merely told at her breakfast that the bread was baked early in the morning by a slave from the Washingtons next door and then two loaves were brought over. The day before, she had explained to him how to prepare the hazelnut and spice cream that she ate on the bread in the morning, but Dante still didn't know what kind of work she spent her day with.

He sighed, put the brush back on the wood, and then paused as footsteps sounded behind him.

"Carry on," Miss Carolyn snorted, and he began scrubbing. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she sat down on one of the sofas standing on the wall, now watching him in turn.

Seth had said that in a few days the Braddocks would be coming by and that the house would have to be presentable for that. And because Dante was the newcomer, the most unpleasant tasks fell to him. Scrubbing floors was not complicated.

"Let me guess, you've never scrubbed floorboards before." Miss Carolyn's subliminally amused voice made him raise his head.

"No, Miss."

She tilted her head. "I've seen you clean the windows," she said after a moment, still slightly amused. "Can you actually do anything that's useful here?"

"It is not for me to judge whether I am useful or not," Dante replied, obviously taking a wrong tone, for Miss Carolyn's face distorted in annoyance.

"Come here!"

He stood up and wiped his hands on his shorts as he walked, before kneeling down before her.

"Did I tell you to kneel?" she snapped.

No, but I was taught not to look down on a mistress, he muttered mentally and rose again, his hands clasped behind his back, head and gaze lowered.

"Believe me, boy, soon you will wish you had left your pride in Denser's Port," she said smugly, and Dante's gaze twitched involuntarily to her face. "What did I say?" She smiled and before Dante could even flinch, her hand jerked towards his privates and squeezed.

He tried to hold still, but an oppressive feeling quickly spread through his chest as she groped him.

Her fingers slid further to his anus, finding nothing there either, and gave his balls another too-tight squeeze before she let her hand slide from his knee up under his shorts and scratched his thigh with her fingernails. A pout, which could have been attractive and erotic on another, younger woman, now appeared on her face. She had a husband. She owned Seth and Mikey and TJ and basically every one of the workers, but here she was sitting and groping her daughter's property.

A flash of emotion close to fear made his breath hitch briefly as she began to caress his penis, and her eyes sparkled.

"Don't get your hopes up, boy. Alice will not invite you into her bed," she purred, and then she pulled on his penis as if it were a lamp cord.

He hissed in pain and then almost panicked when she leaned back and smiled at him. She wouldn't...? Here, where at any moment the children could run along again...?

"Carry on."

Suddenly he was very happy to be allowed to scrub the floors.

~

Classical music was softly drifting out of Mistress Alice's room as Dante slipped into bed. He was tired and actually everything hurt him, but... Miss Carolyn's presumptuous touch still burned on his skin and he wanted to overwrite it.

He pulled the blanket up to his chin and then pushed the pajama bottoms down. Carefully, slowly, almost shyly, he touched and caressed himself, something he had never had the opportunity to do before. He closed his eyes, breathed slowly and consciously, let the soft sounds from the next room accompany him and tried to fathom which touches felt different than neutral. But even the rest of his body didn't know any soft touches and so the other hand went over his thighs, stomach, chest, neck, sometimes scratching, sometimes gently, he played with his nipple and imagined a beautiful woman watching him excitedly, coming over to him, bending over him to kiss him...

Nothing.

Not even the hint of a twitch.

Frustrated, he pulled his pants back up and turned over on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. There he had this tiny bit of freedom and it was of no use to him.

~

The alarm clock rang and with a groan Dante turned around, turned off the alarm and then paused. Something was different, and by that he did not mean the rain, which came down pattering heavily (Great Mother, the laundry!). But because he couldn't see anything in the dark, he turned on the bedside lamp and then looked at his morning glory in amazement.

"The reaction comes quite late," he muttered to himself, brushing along with a fingertip. "I can't use you right now."

Richer for the experience that peeing with a morning boner ranged somewhere between impossible and unpleasant, he entered the kitchen and had just taken Frank's cup out of the cupboard when he entered.

"Hello, Frank."

"Good morning!" Frank beamed despite the early hour and went straight to the refrigerator, while Dante stepped to the coffee machine.

"Slept well?" Dante wanted to know and Frank hummed in agreement.

"I like rain. Well, I like that sound, you know, when I can be inside." The bowl with the eggs in his hand, he looked to the window where the rain was slowly fading.

The coffee machine clicked and clacked as it awoke, and Dante spooned the sugar into Frank's cup.

"But I don't like to be outside when it rains," Frank added grumpy with a little delay to his statement. He sounded as if he had just been told that he couldn't change the weather and had not yet overcome this defeat. It occurred to Dante that he still hadn't asked what was wrong with Frank.

"I don't like rain," he said and pressed a button.

"Why not?", Frank wanted to know.

"You get wet," Dante explained seriously and had to smile involuntarily when Frank laughed honestly.

"Cold and wet," Frank confirmed, and Dante nodded.

The omelet was almost eaten when Blaise appeared in the doorway. When he saw Dante, he began to grin, but he turned to Frank. "I hope you weren't planning on getting the wood today."

"No, tomorrow," Frank replied with a full mouth.

"Good." Blaise nodded.

"Good morning," Dante said quietly and a little uneasy.

"Everything okay, Pa?" Frank then wanted to know with a fine frown, and to Dante's surprise, Blaise entered the kitchen.

"Sure," he said gently and, to Dante's even greater surprise, pressed a kiss on Frank's head, winking at Dante as he did so.

Dante felt the blood rush to his face, though it was good to know that Miss Carolyn had remembered her husband. However, Frank was also surprised and critically looked at Blaise, who was ruffling through his hair.

"Let me be in a good mood for once."

"It's raining, Pa."

"I know, kiddo, but we're not made of sugar."

Frank pouted, which absolutely didn't fit his face and made Blaise laugh.

It was a very strange feeling to be practically involved in this expression of affection, and when Blaise left, Dante quickly lowered his eyes to his plate. The Sapphire family had several women who could have been his mother, but he had never met any of them closer than in attending the same party and didn't know her first name either- he had never been allowed to look at his papers. Now that he saw such a loving father-son relationship, he wondered if his father's name was even in his documents, or just as some code in some medical files.

"Hrmph," Frank made and Dante raised his head.

"Hmm?"

"I have to go out."

"You heard your father: you're not made of sugar."

With a skeptical look, Frank bit his finger probing. "True. A pity, really."

Dante couldn't help but giggle and Frank smiled.

~

The rest of the day gave Dante no reason to smile, because Seth and Miss Britney kept chasing him around the house. Even when he went to the bathroom, he was barely finished when Miss Britney was already banging on the door accusing him of laziness.

When it happened again just before dinner, he stepped out into the hallway with his hands still wet from washing them and looked at Miss Britney, who was showing a pinched expression.

"Miss Britney, I had a psychological bladder voiding disorder as a child and I don't want it to happen again," he said seriously. More than embarrassing memories that he hoped never to have to face again.

"Shall we put a permanent bladder catheter in you?" she asked mockingly and he let his face go blank- he knew that under the right circumstances it would make him look dangerous.

"No. I just want more than 20 seconds to answer nature's call. Miss."

"Twenty-one," she returned and gave him a hard pat on the ass. "And now back to work."

With his eyes closed, Dante washed his hands and longed for his bed.

Suddenly, Seth took a sharp breath. "Who brought out the laundry earlier?"

There was no answer.

"TJ?"

"I haven't touched a washing machine today," he said strained- he was cracking walnuts.

"Mikey?"

"I only turned on one earlier," was the cautious answer.

"Dante?"

"I hung up the sheets earlier," he replied, drying his hands. When he turned to Seth, he got a critical look.

"Did you turn on a new machine?"

"No. None of the baskets were full enough to be worthwhile." He had the dull feeling he'd made a mistake.

"Then go downstairs and start the girls' things."

"But it'll take forever to finish."

"And because you're so smart and you've just realized, you'll stay awake until the machine is finished and you've hung up the clothes," Seth returned sharply.

Dante pulled a face. "Yes, Seth." He rolled his eyes only after he had turned his back to Seth, and then hurried down the stairs to the basement. The faster he did it, the better.

From the lounge sounded bawling, almost drowning out the excited voice of a commentator on some sports broadcast. Bottles clanked and for a moment Dante wondered if the workers were entitled to some beer every now and then, but then he turned his attention to the laundry.

"Is this yours, sweetie?" The amused voice made Dante turn around. In the doorway to the laundry room stood one of the workers- tall, broad-shouldered, damn good-looking, and wearing nothing but long gray sweatpants, which on the one hand needed a turn in the washing machine, and on the other hand hung so low that it was clear he was not wearing any underwear.

Dante followed the outstretched forefinger with his gaze and discovered a pink thong which had fallen beside the laundry basket. He put down the bottle with the detergent and then picked up the piece of cloth with pointed fingers. "No," he then simply said, and dropped it on the laundry pile.

"Not your color?" the man mocked.

"Not my size."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Too small for my dick," Dante added and beneath the man's laughter he fed the washing machine with detergent and perfume globules.

"So you're one of those. Well, let me see your big dick."

"Sorry, that's already been reserved."

The man laughed again. "Miss Alice won't touch you, sweetie. So drop your pants and let us look. Fresh meat's more exciting than stale news."

"How do you know that?" Dante asked unimpressed, although Miss Carolyn had also made a remark like that, and stuffed the laundry into the machine. When he looked up again, there were a few more behind the first man.

"Pants down," he repeated without answering Dante's question, and Dante shook his head.

"Nope."

"Pants. Down."

"If you like gawking at dicks so much, come here, kneel and pull them down yourself."

The man's face widened to a scornful grin.

"Come on, Tom, the boy must have been just standing around pretty, he can't do anything against you," someone shouted over the bawling that Dante's answer had triggered.

Only- was that Tom? Tom who Frank was working with? Not good.

Tom had come closer, slowly, leisurely, but Dante saw the dangerous sparkle in his eyes and the tension in the muscles of his naked torso. Nevertheless, he stood relaxed and even allowed Tom to hook a finger into the waistband of his shorts and peek in from above. However, Tom immediately began to laugh hard.

"Sweetie... you have my condolences."

"What is it?" someone asked, while Dante simply raised an eyebrow.

"He's not wearing a cage." The waistband snapped against Dante's belly and the other spectators laughed as well.

"So what?", Dante defiantly made.

"Sweetie... only impotent slaves don't wear cages."

Dante hadn't noticed how thin his patience had become, but now it snapped. "I'll show you who's impotent here straight away," he growled, but Tom continued to laugh.

"Sure, and next you'll tell us you're making a baby for Miss Alice tonight." He wanted to reach for Dante's pants again, but Dante hissed:

"Don't touch me or I'll make a baby for you!" And at the same time, he raised his elbow, which slammed into Tom's chin.

~

Dante knelt in the living room, blood dripping from his nose.

Tom knelt beside him, his right eye swelling.

On the sofa sat Miss Britney, Blaise and Frank; Miss Carolyn and Mistress Alice stood.

Dante couldn't have said who had intervened, because it hadn't been one of the workers. Seth probably hadn't done it either, otherwise he would have been present.

"Dante?" Mistress Alice sighed sullenly.

"He touched me and made statements that are not true."

"Tom?" Miss Carolyn didn't sigh but rather growled.

"I looked into his pants and said that only impotent slaves don't wear cages," Tom replied a little muffled.

"Why doesn't he wear a cage?" Miss Britney wanted to know immediately and Mistress Alice said poisonously:

"Because I took the thing off him, what do you think?"

But before any of the women could say anything more, Tom said: "He threatened me with a baby."

Dante had practically no time to wonder at the strange phrasing or at the fact that Frank suddenly made a very strange face, for he received a sharp slap in the face from Miss Carolyn.

"Ma!" Mistress Alice shouted angrily. "He's mine!"

"He has threatened my property with violence."

"You have no right-"

"I have every right, Alice!" Miss Carolyn raised her voice threateningly. "This is my land on which my property has been threatened."

Mistress Alice gritted her teeth. "He'll have the cage put back on," she said, and stepped beside Dante to put her fingertips on his head.

He flinched and had to pull himself together not to lean away from her- being touched in such a situation never meant anything good.

"That's not enough," Miss Carolyn said harshly.

"I decide how my slave is punished," Mistress Alice gave back coolly and Miss Carolyn shook her head.

Nervously Dante looked from mother to daughter and back. You could have heard a pin drop.

"Your sweet Dante will work with Tom and Frank for a week and hopefully learn what place he has here," Miss Carolyn finally decided. She emphasized every word in an ominous way and Dante swallowed hard while Mistress Alice's fingertips twitched on his head.

"One week," she agreed.

He desperately tried to look on the bright side- he got no beatings, no whip, and physical labor was not bad- but in his head echoed only loud and clear the fear that Tom would make this week a hell on earth for him.