A Jewel in the Dirt - 21. A Leash for the Pride...

Dante was sitting in the kitchen with his head in his hands when the others came in. He looked up, seeing unsettled and worried faces. "You could have told me."

Daniel- though already burdened enough with the kids- lowered his eyes guiltily, TJ mumbled something that sounded like 'I thought you'd been told' and Seth sighed.

"I'm sorry, Dante. I should have... I... oh, damn, I don't have an excuse." He grimaced. "Except maybe that I wanted you to go into this without prejudice."

"I screwed up with my mistress, Seth," Dante returned firmly.

Flynn, huddled in the background, quickly wiped the gloating expression from his face at Dante's scowl.

Mikey looked decidedly uncomfortable and Henry slumped his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have... I shouldn't have..." He was already starting to sniffle again, and Dante sighed.

"It's not your fault, Henry."

"But she'll punish you."

"She will."

"Has she said anything?" Daniel wanted to know cautiously, and Dante shook his head.
"So far she's merely vented her anger with words." He didn't need to mention that he had to wear his cage again, because the subject had a completely different meaning for the others.

"Is she going to whip you?", Henry anxiously wanted to know and Dante shrugged.

"Maybe. But I think she's more imaginative about it."

Henry shook himself. "I don't want to have to watch that..."

"You get used to the sight." TJ muttered also uncomfortable, but Henry made an odd sound.

"They whipped my uncle to death after the accident."

As Dante's eyes widened in surprise, Mikey dropped a pot, which hit the countertop and then the floor with a loud clatter. TJ and Flynn alike made a horrified gagging sound and Daniel whispered:

"Oh Great Mother, I didn't know."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't have to see that," Seth said quietly, rolling his shoulders.

A life for a life, it went through Dante's mind, followed by the thought of how barbaric this practice would be considered in Denser's Port. Nausea gathered in the pit of his stomach and with difficulty he pushed aside the thought of an endless whipping. Punishments were bearable as long as you knew what was coming and when it would end. But when the end of the punishment was also your own end...

~

"Dante?"

Dante tore his gaze from his reflection in the mirror, which he hadn't actually seen at all, and looked at Frank, who was standing anxiously in the bathroom doorway. "Hmm?"

"Alice is really mad. Do you... do you think she'll... sell you?"

"I don't know. For now, she can't." Half-heartedly, Dante shrugged and wiped the last remnants of toothpaste foam from the sink.

"If she tries, I'll talk her out of it," Frank said firmly after a moment, and Dante cracked a smile.

"I honestly think she's too stubborn to be talked into or out of things."

"I'm stubborn, too." However, he seemed rather childishly defiant.

"You do realize that even as a free man, you don't stand a chance against a woman?"

"This is my sister we're talking about."

"That doesn't change a thing, Frank." Weakly, Dante shook his head and in tense silence they went to bed.

"Yes it does," Frank finally said seriously.

"Oh yeah?" Dante raised a brow skeptically. He didn't want to rub Frank's nose in the fact that he was legally incapable of contracting, nor was this case about a simple toy that someone wanted to throw away.

"Yes. After all, this is about the accident in the widest sense. I was there, you know. And you're right when you say it wasn't Henry's fault, because it wasn't even really that guy's, his uncle's fault."

Puzzled, Dante looked at him. "What... what do you mean? They told me you don't remember that day..."

"That's the official version." Frank tilted his head and put on a pout for a moment, his gaze wandering aimlessly around the room before stopping at Dante.

"You want to tell me?" he asked cautiously, and Frank sighed.

"Are you going to believe me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because nobody does. I mean, I've never told anyone, but... what good would it do? The man is dead."

"It's never too late for justice," Dante said quietly, and Frank grimaced.

"So the nuns did feed you bullshit after all. The man is dead, Dante, dead! In fact, if Pa hadn't had to stay in the hospital for a while as well, he would have done it himself."

Dante shuddered. "Was it your Pa's fault, then?" he wanted to know hesitantly, and Frank's lips twitched strangely.

"He wasn't paying proper attention to the road, was distracted... by us."

A fierce goose bump ran over Dante's entire body as a movie played out in his mind's eye: a man with his sons in the car, them goofing around or arguing while he tried to keep them calm. One glance too much or too long to the side or in the rearview mirror and it happened.

"What's done is done," Frank said strangely bitter, abruptly extinguishing the light. "It's long ago."

Hesitantly, Dante slumped back into the cushions, stifling the question of why Frank assumed no one would believe him. The answer was simple: a boy who had been in a coma and had to relearn many things- how reliable were his memories? How much could he know about traffic? Why should he blame his own father? And in fact, by the time Frank had come out of the coma, the matter had long since been filed away, the guilty party punished.

"Dante..."

"Hmm?"

"If Alice has anything awful planned for you, I'm going to tell her. If anyone believes me, it's most likely her."

"You think...?"

"Yes."

There was silence again, the cage pressing uncomfortably into Dante's thighs, then Frank sighed and the mattress shook as he slid over to Dante and pulled him into a hug.

"I wish I'd kept my mouth shut," Dante muttered, leaning his head against Frank's shoulder.

"Isn't that what makes you you?" Frank pulled him even closer, half on top of him, and Dante found it oddly reassuring the way Frank's body vibrated at the lowness of his voice. "That at certain moments you just don't shut up like everyone else?"

"Maybe." Dante wrapped an arm around him. "But look at my record. I could have saved myself some mistresses if I'd let my mouth shut a few more times."

"Hmm..."

Thoughtfully, they drew patterns on each other's skin. Dante was already half dozing when Frank turned a little and pulled him completely on top of him with a jerk.
"Whew!" Dante managed to say before Frank grabbed his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Dante really wasn't in the mood for that now, though, so he quickly pulled away.

"What...? Oh, no, she put the cage on you." Frank sounded incredibly frustrated and Dante, strangely relieved at this apology, sighed.

"She did. As a foretaste of what punishment may be coming."

Another frustrated sound rang out from Frank and Dante tried to carefully slide off him, but he held him tight.

"I'm heavy."

"I like that. Just... I mean..."- an embarrassed clearing of the throat- "feeling you on me."

Dante's face grew hot, and beneath him he felt Frank's still flaccid dick twitch very faintly. If Frank wanted sex with him, he wouldn't be able to avoid it one way or another, but the thought of settling himself, actively, on a dick and bouncing around on it... no. Well, maybe he discovered that it was great to get fucked, but he didn't really believe it. He would have to disappoint Frank. To counteract said coming disappointment he bent over and kissed Frank gently from above, felt the strong hands sliding along his thighs and welcomed the tongue in his mouth. But just as he was about to open his mouth and announce that he didn't really like this position, Frank murmured:

"Honestly, this is nice." His hands kneaded Dante's thighs.

"Yeah? Why?", Dante wanted to know carefully and between tender little kisses Frank explained:

"I don't know... but... you have your freedoms and yet... it feels like a position of power."

"Hmm."

"You don't sound convinced."

"Yeah... no... I mean, I like those... 'freedoms', but..."

"You don't want to be the active part."

"... no, I don't think so."

"Hmm." Gently, Frank pushed him off of him and then himself over him. "Better?"

"Um..." No, to be honest, it wasn't. Now Dante felt trapped. But he didn't say so, because the first alternative he could think of- on all fours- was humiliating just imagining it. Like he was a cheap whore for free man. "Yeah.", he said in the end, trying to make himself sound more convinced by forcing a smile on his lips. Exactly those smiling lips Frank kissed now.

"Okay... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"No...", Dante murmured and kissed him back. But this time it was Frank who stopped the kissing kinda quickly.

"Damn, with this cage it will hurt you getting even just half hard..."

"Don't worry..." Since Dante was not in the right mood and his mind still lingering on different thoughts, it was enough distraction.

"Can... can I..." Although Frank was hovering above him like a predator ready to bite he sounded shy. "Can I jerk off on you?"

Dante blinked into the darkness. "... sure."

With a strange relived sigh Frank was yanking down his pants and let out a groan.

Dante couldn't help a small smile appearing on his lips, it was somehow cute to see him that frustrated for not being able to share with Dante, it felt good to be wanted, to be considered in this sum.

Frank had lifted himself up, just enough to have room for his dick, and stroked himself seemingly fast and hard.

"I could-", Dante began, but was interrupted by a kiss, into which Frank moaned muffled. He put his hands on Frank's hips to steady him, kissing him back, and thinking of the lustful sounds Frank had made the last time for encouragement, he now made some of them.

Frank shuddered when Dante breathed a groan onto his cheek and dug his fingernails into his hips. "Fuck, Dante..."

"Yeah...", Dante sighed as if he was close.

"I'm... I'm..." Frank breathed hard.

"You want to cum all over me, right?"

"Fuck... yeah..."

"Do it."

With a deep low growl Frank came and Dante could feel it splatter on him, immediately the hot wetness seeped into his pajamas. Frank shivered and trembled and dropped like dead wight next to Dante, letting out a sound between moan and sigh.

It hadn't taken much time, but Dante had considered his options. Thinking sober and straight about it, he was quite sure he didn't want to give Frank his ass. To be honest, snogging and touching and cuddling was definitely nice, not to say great, but Hell and Eden, Frank was damn big and if his jerking-off was any indication of how he would fuck Dante, he would do anything to avoid that as long as he could.
He leaned over for a kiss, caressing Frank's chest with his fingertips. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah... but it's mean that you can't...", Frank mumbled, reaching out and pulling Dante closer. "Eek, you're wet."

"Guess why..."

"Take it off."

Suppressing a sigh, although he was right, Dante took off the pajama and snuggled up to Frank's hot skin, being rewarded with a somewhat possessive arm slung around him.

"You know...", Frank started hesitantly and carefully pushed a knee between Dante's legs, "there are a lot of things I would like to try."

Briefly, Dante wondered where Frank had got all the ideas- perhaps he just had a vivid sexual imagination- but he merely pressed a kiss to his chest and murmured: "We've got time..."

"I hope so," Frank murmured back, giving Dante's butt a tender squeeze.

"For sure." But the only thing Dante was overly sure of right now on this subject was that he wasn't going to like at least half of Frank's ideas.

~

"Dante."

"Mistress?" Surprised, Dante looked up from the dishwasher he was about to unload. Frank had just disappeared outside and Henry stood frozen at the sink about to fill the kettle.

"Bring me my breakfast upstairs."

"Yes, mistress."

"And you... do the laundry or scrub the floors or something..."

"Yes, mistress." whispered Henry.

She gave them both an unpleasant look before rushing out, dressing gown rustling.

Dante licked his lips and looked to Henry, who swallowed.

"What's she up to?"

To this Dante could only reply with a shrug and set about preparing breakfast for their mistress.

Mistress Alice had once again made herself comfortable in bed with her laptop and pointed to her nightstand. "Kneel down and be good."

"Yes, Mistress." said Dante so quietly it was almost a whisper. He knelt beside the bed and lowered his head, hands folded in his lap. What exactly was she going to do now?

First she ate breakfast in perfect peace, then she slid out of bed, stretched, and gave him a cool look. "Get the bed fresh."

"Yes, mistress."

She disappeared into the bathroom, and he turned to the bed.

Since he finished before she reappeared from the bathroom, he knelt beside the bathroom door for simplicity's sake and waited again.

In the beginning, she had said she didn't want or need anyone kneeling next to her all day with a glazed look in the eyes just to do a tiny act here and there, and he had been more than happy with that. Apparently this was now a special way to punish him, though he was beginning to wonder to what extent she didn't find it incredibly annoying herself.

Naked, like the first woman created by the Great Mother, Mistress Alice left the bathroom a felt eternity later and stepped up to her closet. Charles Horner might be right when he said she was too thin, but Dante still found her extremely attractive.

With his eyes, he traced a drop of water which had come loose from her wet hair and was now running down her slender back. It urged him to stand up and wipe the drop away, to kiss it away, just where the back merged into the bottom, and then an image crept into his mind- not Frank looming over him in the dark, but his mistress, her tender skin under his hands as she touched herself.

Suddenly the cage became uncomfortably tight and he averted his eyes.

"Take the dishes down and get me a bottle of water."

"Yes, mistress." He hadn't noticed at all how she had dressed and sat down at the desk, and in fact he blushed as he looked to her and she gave him a look that was almost mocking. With the most uncomfortable feeling between his legs, he stood up and did as ordered.

Until the gong called the household to lunch, Dante knelt beside her desk, rising only once to fetch new printer paper from Miss Carolyn's office. Otherwise, Mistress Alice did not address him either, and he had decided it was better if he kept his mouth shut consistently. Now, after said chime, she sighed.

"You have two minutes for the bathroom."

"Yes, mistress. Thank you, Mistress." He really needed to pee badly, even though he hadn't had anything to drink except for breakfast, and out of a vague fear she would deny him lunch, he hurriedly drank water from the tap after washing his hands.

Impatiently she looked at him as he stepped back into the room, but before he could excuse himself she was already going out and he silently followed her.

Down in the dining room he kept his gaze lowered- he didn't want to have to look at the others, didn't want to know exactly which emotion would be readable on their faces, and when Mistress Alice grabbed him by the arm as he was about to go to the slaves' kneeling table, pointing with hard eyes beside her, he was really glad of not having looked at them.

He knelt down beside her- his knees already protesting- and lowered his head and gaze.

"What's he been up to?" Miss Britney wanted to know amused.

"That's none of your business," Mistress Alice returned so coldly that it apparently spoiled even her sister's mood.

Dante was aware that this was about his pride, his dignity, that she was reminding him of his place, but that didn't make it any better. He winced when she patted him on the head and looked up questioningly.

She held out a filled fork to him. "Eat like this or don't eat at all."

He swallowed, feeling all eyes on him, and turned his head away.

Miss Britney snorted. "I'm afraid you're hitting a brick wall there, sis."

"We'll see, won't we, little jewel?"

Dante blushed as his mistress patted his head again, then played with his collar until she found the sapphire on it.

"Pa, do you need the car later?"

"Hmm? No, I put off my errands until tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" Miss Carolyn wanted to know, and Dante seemed forgotten.

"I'm meeting Ellen. More business, though."

"Oh." Miss Carolyn seemed surprised, but Mistress Alice made no further explanation, Dante's courage sinking at that.

She would parade him, wouldn't she?

~

"What do you want, Henry?", Mistress Alice wanted to know, annoyed. They were about to leave the house, and as Dante had guessed and feared, she had magicked a leash from somewhere.

"Mistress, when may we expect you back?" he asked humbly.

"Why do you want to know? Don't you have something to do?"

"Oh, well..." Henry stammered and blushed.

"Then you'll wait here." She pointed to a spot near the door.

"Yes, mistress." Kneeling down a little awkwardly, Dante thought fleetingly that someone should teach him to move a little more elegantly, but the snap from the clasp of the leash on his collar interrupted the train of thought rather effectively. He must have grimaced a little, because Mistress Alice grabbed him by the chin and said coolly:

"Thank yourself."

"Yes, Mistress."

She led him to the passenger seat of the car, and though no one saw him, he would have preferred to sink into the ground in shame.

It didn't get any better in Townsend, of course, except that he now felt like a dog on a walk. In addition, she tied the leash in the café to the designated hook so short that he had almost no range of motion.

"Oh my goodness, Ally, I didn't think anyone could manage to get you this riled up!" Ellen looked surprised and amused in equal measure.

"Everyone has their limits," Mistress Alice returned coolly. "I've already ordered, I hope an assortment of cakes will suit you."

"Why, certainly! There's work ahead." She sat down and Dante saw her slave eager for service pull a tablet from her briefcase and hand it to her.

Stiff as a stick, Dante now sat there and at the sight of the cake and the smell of the hot chocolate so close to his nose, his stomach began to rumble. He would have even taken the awful lemon tea, but he remained silent while Ellen's slave, after a slightly pitying smile in Dante's direction, leaned his head against his mistress' thigh and was gently patted in response.

Ellen was apparently a graphic designer, and the two women reviewed several of her projects, discussed for a while the possibility of Ellen creating the cover for Mistress Alice's newest book, and then turned to the latest gossip.

"Oh, before I forget..." Ellen then said, after they had talked for a while about people whose names Dante had never heard before, "I ran into Matthew in town yesterday. Great Mother, he looked really beat. Is the paperwork still not done?"

Mistress Alice sighed. "In theory, yes, but Maggie told me, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, that they all seem to have forgotten someone."

"Who?", Ellen wanted to know in confusion.

"Annabeth."

"Who the fuck is Annabeth?"

"Their aunt. Packed her bags on her twentieth birthday and hasn't been seen since, but as long as she's alive, she's got claims..."

"Oh, damn..."

"You can say that out loud."

That reminded Dante, who was in a rather dozy state, that he hadn't told his mistress about his encounter with Charles yesterday, but now was certainly not the time to bring up his little slip-up. Still, he looked up, met Ellen's mocking gaze, and immediately looked back down at his hands folded in his lap. Shame, self-reproach, hunger, and his wounded pride burned within him. He knew that most personal slaves would merely have a mild shake of the head for him, especially in big cities like Denser's Port, but he hated himself more and more every minute for having been so stupid as to put himself in such a situation.