A Jewel in the Dirt - 8. Attention from different Sides

Dante had to wait a surprisingly long time for his mistress to return to her room. He was still standing there in just his boxer briefs, freezing, when she finally entered. At the sight of him, she sighed.

"Undress. I'll apply disinfectant and then some wound cream."

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." It wasn't that bad, but Dante half bowed and took off his underpants. Mistress Alice's attention towards him was strange- a confusing emotionless caring- but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

"Your skin is scraped here and there, so it's going to burn," she announced then, brandishing a spray bottle.

He nodded and turned his back to her. The disinfectant was cold and it took a moment, but then he hissed under his breath.

"What I actually wanted to talk to you about yesterday..." she began between two sprays, "you haven't tried on your butler's uniform yet, and you're going to need it tomorrow night."

"So the Braddock family is coming tomorrow. Does that mean I'm off my woodworking duties?" He tried not to make it sound bitterly mocking, but since his mistress snorted, he probably didn't succeed very well.

"Yes. It was about your working with Tom, and he's going to be tucked up in bed in the prone position for the next few days."

"Looked like it..." he muttered, getting a warning throat clearing in response. "Apologies." he said hurriedly. "Mistress, will he appreciate what I tried to do?" Since the spraying stopped, he half-turned and looked at Mistress Alice.

"Quite possibly." She tilted her head thoughtfully rather than approvingly.

"But?" He raised a brow.

"Tom, like you, has his pride." She pursed her lips. "For a slave who's just been whipped, you're plenty cheeky."

Silly as it was, he couldn't help a wry grin. "Well, maybe that just got my spirits up."

A slight frown graced her brow, but she rather playfully threatened him with the disinfectant, apparently searching for words for a moment before saying: "Dante... not everyone here will appreciate your style, so hold your tongue, or your spirits will be tickled more often than you'd like."

"Unless I turn out to be a masochist."

"Are you one?"

"No."

"There you go." She nodded, and because she seemed relaxed, the grin held. To this mistress, he would probably be able to speak frankly, if she wasn't currently upset.

They looked at each other for a few heartbeats, then she shook her head, but a hint of amusement was evident around her eyes and the corners of her mouth.
"You're going to cost me a lot of nerves. Now get on your bed and I'll get the ointment. Oh, and Ma doesn't want to see you the rest of the day, so you stay here. Seth will bring you food later. And so you don't die of boredom, I'll let you read my books. Provided you know how to handle them."

"Carefully." he replied promptly, remembering her words from yesterday, and she nodded before turning around.

He had just laid down when there was a knock.

"Frank..." Mistress Alice sounded unsurprised, and though Frank lowered his voice, it was not made to whisper, and Dante clearly heard his name and Tom's. Not a minute later, Frank- wearing plain sweatpants, not work clothes- entered his small room.

"Hey, Dante..."

Dante half-turned and put on a smile at Frank's downcast expression. "Hey..."

Frank held a small tin of ointment and turned it indecisively. "Can I...?"

"Sure..." Dante nodded. "What's wrong, Frank?" he then asked gently as Frank knelt beside the narrow bed.

Carefully, Frank touched Dante's back. "Tom hurt you." His facial expression now clearly said he was disappointed, perhaps even shocked at that.

Weakly, Dante shook his head, but his encouraging smile slipped from his lips at the sight. "He hurt my pride more than he hurt my body. I kept quiet, so I was punished."

"This," Frank said, however, touching the scratch on Dante's butt, "is not from a whip."

"No." What else was Dante supposed to say to that?

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"No, it's fine." Dante slid his arms under the pillow and wondered what was going on in Frank's head, for the young man seemed to gaze thoughtfully into the void before jerking away from his thoughts and smearing the ointment on Dante's welts with gentle, careful movements. The concentrated expression on his face was kind of cute, Dante thought, but his attention was rather claimed by the touches, which first gave him goosebumps and then- by the sixth welt, just above his butt- made him shiver.

"Am I hurting you?" Frank asked anxiously, pausing.

"What? No." Dante shook his head; Frank looked at him with big uncertain eyes. "I rarely get touched so nicely." Somehow that sounded wrong. "Well, I mean... usually no one takes care of me at all." That still sounded awkward, and Frank asked, confused:

"What do you mean?"

"Slaves are replaceable." Dante indicated a shrug. "Unless you're very directly serving the needs of your mistress, you're just a job. It doesn't matter what your name is or what you look like, if you will just do your job well."

"You've been sold a lot..." Frank muttered more to himself than to Dante, looking away. It seemed to be working in him, and Dante was silent. The farm was a community, the house slaves more or less a part of the family, and this was where two completely different worlds just collided.

And then he was surprised by Frank's renewed touch: with his thumb he spread a touch of ointment on the scratch on his buttocks and then ran his whole big hand over it, down the side, over the ribs almost to the armpit. Dante couldn't quite put his finger on how that actually felt, because something inside him expected that big hand to slide on and possessively grab the back of his neck. Instead, it was fingertips that lingered on his skin and then disappeared- leaving a tingling goose bump. And then Frank stood up with a jerk, forced a smile, and disappeared, while Dante hurriedly and a little confused said thank you.

~

Being cooped up in this small room tugged at Dante's nerves, even after he grabbed a book from Mistress Alice's trove. The historical-religious novel was quite interesting, but then not exciting enough to spend the whole day with. Well, at least that's what Dante thought until he stumbled upon the first sex scene and a certain part of his body started to tingle. The protagonist of the book always found time for sensual togetherness and during the fourth encounter of that kind Dante held the book a little too tightly - otherwise his hand would have gone somewhere else and he wouldn't have been able to turn the pages.

After the scene ended, however, he slid a worn bookmark into the book and put it aside before slipping fully under the covers. Even as he slid his shorts and underpants down, he bit his lip. His skin tingled under his touch and as he cupped his testicles with one hand, his dick twitched expectantly. He had intended to take it slow and savor it fully, but within no time he found himself like in a maelstrom: he needed more, wanted more and more, the up and down of his hand around his dick just wasn't enough... Somewhere in the back of his mind the thought formed that his mistress was next door and possibly heard him, but when this very first orgasm of his life hit him with full force, it completely took his breath away, so any sound was out of the question anyway.

Hissing, he gasped for air. "Oh... damn..." he whispered to the ceiling as the overwhelming sensation subsided. "Holy shit..." He swallowed and felt like he was made of bubble gum for what might have been a very long while.

He stuffed the spattered T-shirt and shorts he'd used to wipe himself clean out of necessity into the dirty clothes hamper in Mistress Alice's room and was about to head to the bathroom to wash up in earnest when she pushed back her headphones and- without looking at him- said:

"Take the hamper straight down to the basement."

"Um, mistress, I'm not supposed to get in Miss Carolyn's face," he objected.

"I know." Now she did turn and give him a sort of mocking smile- he was glad to have clean clothes on. "But do you know how much that stuff starts to stink after a while?"

Heat shot to his face and he was very grateful that she left it at that and turned back to her computer.

When he returned to his room a few minutes later, he found a pack of baby wipes on the nightstand.

~

On Dante's grounding day, the house had been spruced up, and when he reported to Seth after showering on the day of the Braddocks' visit, Seth sent him off with Mikey and TJ to prepare the banquet room. As they hauled in extendable tables and chairs, Dante asked:

"What's your brother like?"

Mikey grinned wryly yet with pride; except for hair color, the two had nothing in common. "He's going to be a doctor. Well, you know... as far as a free man can become a doctor. That's why he's been down in Sandford the last few weeks."

"I guess it's a real asset out here," Dante said approvingly, and TJ replied:

"Right. And there are enough slaves- especially the workers- who have so little contact with women that they can't deal with a real female doctor." This wasn't news to Dante, so he nodded.

"There's this movement, a campaign of sorts, to make sure free men get access to certain professions for that very reason."

Now Mikey was grinning from ear to ear. "Ever heard of High Priestess Julianna?"

"She's one of them." Dante nodded again. "Gave a beautiful sermon at the Festival of Lights last year."

"Is our aunt."

"Show-off." TJ grumbled good-naturedly, but Dante grinned.

"I guess that explains why a hillbilly gets such opportunities, then."

"You're just jealous, you with your stupid rock." Mikey stuck his tongue out at him and Dante laughed softly.

"Jealous? Hardly."

"And yet she won't take you to bed."

"Why do you keep bringing it up, anyway?"

"Because Mikey's got nothing but sex on his mind right now," TJ piped in again, giving Dante a meaningful look, which Dante didn't understand and therefore answered with a raised eyebrow. "Mikey is here for education. Under the current rules, that means he has to be of age to be called to bed. Puberty tells him otherwise," TJ explained, and Dante, his hands already on the nearest chair, paused.

"You two are Miss Carolyn's. Honestly, though-"

TJ nodded hastily. "She loves Blaise." And quietly murmured afterward: "Thanks to the Great Mother." Yeah, Dante would be glad of that, too, if he were TJ.

"And Miss Britney?" While they were on the subject, maybe it wasn't the worst thing to get caught up on.

TJ shrugged and hesitated for a moment. "After the incident with Jessy's father... well. She has Ethan, but listening to him, that doesn't seem like a happy thing. She's gone for Kellen or Jonah every now and then, but right now she seems to want Tom and if- well what am I even talking about." TJ grinned uncertainly.

"I'm listening," Dante assured him seriously, but TJ continued to hesitate. "I saw she's interested in Tom," Dante finally said, and TJ nodded, but shrugged and made a helpless gesture.

"Tom is... gay." He said that as if it were a crime, but in Dante's judgment, homoerotic relationships were usually the only thing left for a slave- if he even got a chance for such things at all- and accordingly, he wasn't sure to what extent the label gay really applied. "And... well. One of the reasons Mistress Carolyn was so angry about him running around without a cage is that there are concerned voices that he might be messing with Frank."

"Oh." The sound dropped from Dante's mouth like a stone, and TJ nodded. But then, in that regard, wouldn't it make twice as much sense to explain to Frank what adults were doing?

"Oh, and your mistress will probably marry Valentine in the spring, as soon as he turns twenty-five."

Dante merely nodded, filing away the information- the question of why that was pegged to the twenty-fifth birthday, when one came of age at twenty, he didn't even finish thinking- and then put on another insouciant grin as a good-humored Daniel joined the group.

They goofed around for a while and were setting the tablecloths when Seth called out that they needed to prepare a light lunch.

Daniel, Mikey, and TJ dutifully hurried off while Dante straightened the tablecloths.

"Dante."

He winced at Blaise's voice and hastily turned around. He hadn't forgotten that Blaise had been punished, too, and that Tom was one of his favorites. But Blaise didn't seem angry or anything like that, but rather tired. He nodded curtly to Dante.

"Tom's a proud pighead," he said quietly. "He told me you'd want it." Dante didn't even get time to reply before he continued. "Tom is like a son to me and... and I've already lost one. Thank you." Blaise was visibly disappointed by Tom's breach of trust, and Dante's impression that Blaise was a good guy was reinforced.

However, he was still searching for words when Blaise had long since left the room.

~

Dante let his eyes roam over the long table and allowed himself a proud smile. He had definitely earned respect from Seth for his work and precision, and even Miss Britney had responded favorably to his quiet suggestion to have the kids gather autumnal decorations.

"The Braddocks are coming!" it rang through the house, and Dante turned on his heel to hurry to the front door. His new uniform was not really different from his old ones, he had even been given white gloves, and his only problem for the moment was a laundry tag in his white dress shirt that rubbed against his hip.

Through the windows next to the door, Dante could keep a fair watch on the guests, and the footsteps on the porch told him when to open the door.

"Good evening, Miss Braddock." he greeted politely, though rather to the floor than the couple entering.

Dawn Junior and her husband, Garry. "Carolyn!" exclaimed Dawn immediately. "Carolyn, my dear, we should do this more often! It's been far too long!" It sounded surprisingly sincere, Dante thought, and even Miss Carolyn's response was not nearly as politely mendacious as he knew and expected from Denser's Port. However, he had no time to listen to such chatter. He straightened far enough from his bow to see who came next.

"Good evening, Miss Braddock." he said again, this time addressing Dawn's sister Delilah and her husband Carter. "Miss." he followed directly as a young woman rushed right behind. Whether this was Dawn's daughter Rose or Delilah's daughter Ginger- Mistress Alice's cousin- he couldn't tell without another look.

Another young woman- correspondingly the other- entered, and as members of the Mitchell family gathered here as well, the buzz of voices became deafening, especially as Blaise and Carter greeted each other with booming voices.

Finally, the twins entered and Dante closed the door behind them. Patrick and Benjamin, who were called Pax and Biscuit for reasons no one could probably recall, stood grinning for a moment before bolting off, playfully chasing Maisie and Jessy. Dante thought the twins, at nineteen, were a little too old for that kind of fun, and the two girls usually made a point of being treated correctly, but that was probably the effect of having an extended family.

The two families slowly but steadily made their way into the festive room and Dante carefully pushed past them to hold the chair for Miss Carolyn - who was, after all, his matriarch and quite superior to his mistress on such occasions. She seemed quite surprised by this and plopped down inelegantly on it, while Mistress Alice seconds later lowered herself gracefully onto her chair, which Dante had pushed into place. Had Dawn not already been sitting at Miss Carolyn's side, he would have given her the same treatment.

Frank, who looked like a completely different person in his dress shirt and dark jeans, sat down next to his sister and gave Dante a brave smile, which Dante returned.

It was Rose who sat across from Mistress Alice- red-blond like the other Braddocks- and Ginger who sat on Mistress Alice's other side- small and roundish like Carter and his sister Carolyn.

He caught Miss Carolyn's prompting nod- and the evening began.

It didn't escape Dante's notice that it took only a few words between him and Seth to coordinate things. It apparently didn't escape the others either, because he got more than one help-seeking glance from the other four slaves during the course of the evening- he involuntarily wondered how chaotic such meetings usually were behind the scenes. Judging by TJ's fearful sweat and frantic demeanor, and a certain relief on Daniel's face when Dante took the tray with the last of the desserts, however, he probably didn't want to know the extent of that answer.

What he also didn't miss were Ginger's looks all evening and now, as he served Mistress Alice and her the chocolate mousse he would have loved to taste himself, her hand slid up the back of his thigh as well.

"Alice, our attentive and hardworking butler is yours, right?" she asked in a tone that already told Dante everything, and Mistress Alice nodded.

"Right." she said around her dessert spoon.

With Ginger's hand holding him in place, Dante had a splendid view of both cleavages from above.

"So?"

"You know I don't have a slave of my own... so... would you mind borrowing him for a moment?" The two women looked at each other and as Ginger's hand moved forward all but unobtrusively, Dante was torn because Mistress Alice had put the cage on him as a 'precaution' for the evening.

She looked up at him from below and he could already hear her I-don't-care-yes as she minimally shook her head. But when she opened her mouth, Miss Carolyn said:

"Ginger, dear, there's a reason you don't have a slave yet." She was not yet of age. "But I don't think there's anything wrong with a short trip." She looked at Delilah, who in turn looked at her daughter, smiled, and asked:

"Does he wear a cage?"

"He does." Mistress Alice replied coolly, and Dante bit his tongue. He was a slave. Slaves were not asked, they were used. Slaves obeyed the will of their mistress. If he had felt a spark of excitement until just now, the public discussion of the subject caused it to die. It seemed almost like divine providence that, after a quick glance at Mistress Alice, he felt the same cool reluctance she did.

"Mistress?" he asked quietly.

"Go with Ginger." she said, sounding almost bored, but he could see how tense her posture was. She truly did not like to share.

"Yes, mistress." He was a slave, a plaything and nothing more. He was expected to humbly comply and obey without complaint.

The room was a little dusty, the furniture covered with large cloths. Ginger hadn't even bothered to remove that very cloth from one of the armchairs, but had dropped herself right there and pulled up her dress. And after Dante had removed her dangerously wet panties with gloved fingers, he now- one of her legs on his shoulder- set to work completely clueless. He had forewarned her- she didn't care.

From the way she started twitching, shuddering and sighing within seconds, she probably really needed it and hopefully it wouldn't take too long.

Dante licked and kissed and sucked, not really knowing if he was doing it right, but she really didn't seem to care as long as she got her pleasure in the end.

Unfortunately, he found the matter disgusting, and as his tongue tickled Ginger's fleshy pearl and she curled her hand into his hair, he questioned his own sexuality for the first time. Mentally, he made pro and con lists and yet only concluded that his own free will was not to be underestimated. TJ's concerns about Tom from the morning came back to him and his own thoughts about it. But had he had to choose, he probably would have preferred a tender night with a man to an imposed union with a woman.

And probably this matter would not be half as unpleasant if he did it voluntarily and for a woman he liked or wanted. Briefly he thought of Mistress Alice and her merry laughter in the bathtub- a moan reminded him of his duties, and he realized with a fine tingle of concern that he had held still for a moment. But apparently that's exactly what gave Ginger the kick she needed, because when he started again, she pressed his face against her so tightly that a grunting sound of protest escaped him.

Two heartbeats later she cried out and shook so hard she almost slid off the armchair.

Carefully, Dante disentangled himself, her hand slipped limply away and he set her leg on the floor. He rose and bowed. "I return to my mistress," he announced tonelessly, and without waiting for a reaction, he walked away.

~

"Dante...?" Mistress Alice murmured tiredly from her bed.

Quietly, Dante closed the door. "Mistress?"

She sat up and rubbed her face, apparently, she had already fallen asleep and the burning bedside lamp seemed to say she had been waiting for him. "I'm sorry." she said, getting up.

"What for?" he asked confused.

"Ginger. If Ma hadn't ordered it, I wouldn't have-"

"It's all right. I have to obey." Dante half bowed. Although he had thoroughly rinsed his mouth, he still had a strange taste in his mouth, and although it most certainly was not, he felt as if his chin were sticky. And his mistress couldn't help it, after all, he had seen that she didn't want to lend him.

"Still." she muttered, and trudged over to the desk.

"You should go to sleep," he said gently.

"First the cage."

"That can wait until tomorrow, really." He was far too tired for such fun.

She shook her head. "You've impressed us all." she said, turning with the key in her hand. An honest smile, crooked with fatigue, graced her face; the praise wrapped him up like a warm blanket on cold winter days.

He smiled back shyly. "Thank you, mistress."

She took the cage from him and then seemed to want to say something, but merely patted his chest and half-murmured into a yawn: "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Good night, mistress." He half bowed again and watched as she crawled back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and turning off the light. And so he stood in the darkness, slipped his dick back into his underpants, and went to his room to go to bed.

Something gnawed at him as he then pulled up the covers himself and curled up under them; the inner warmth of praise was not enough to heat his bed.

A praise, a smile, a pat...

A slave. A pet.

Lubricant for a man like a chew toy for a dog.

He was different from the other slaves, whether they were part of the family like Daniel or merely a household appliance like TJ. He didn't belong here. He didn't fit in.

He had been the new guy many times, but these feelings were different and unfamiliar. Never before had he felt like he was different. Never before had he felt like he was missing something.

Only he couldn't even say what he was missing.