Chapter 28

Of course, the fucker had to live in the most opulent house available, or maybe Francesco hadn’t been invited in many places like that before too much. It had to count as a little bit strange that he hadn’t visited his in-laws’ residence until now, but it wasn’t like theirs was some normal family, right?

He couldn’t believe Don had a real maid in a maid outfit, serving them like they were on the stage of some high production porn. Her skirt was a bit too short to be considered professional, he thought, or maybe he was just imagining things at this point. He tried to smile at her as she placed some expensive looking dish in front of him, but her cold stare made him reconsider. Don must choose his personnel to be his spitting image.

The thing was, no matter how appetizing the food on his plate looked, he didn’t feel like eating at all.

“Dig in, boys,” Don said with a toothy smile.

The senator preferred a casual sweater and a more relaxed cut for his dress pants while at home. Regardless of the warm tones of his clothes, his smile was as cold and feral as ever.

Francesco fiddle with his fork and took a small bite. It tasted like cardboard in his mouth, so he reached for his wine glass and drank half of it.

“Now,” Don spoke again, once the maid in maid outfit closed the doors to the giant dining room, “how about you tell me how you’ve been lately?”

Francesco looked at Karl. Was he the only one who expected casual conversation the least? But no, he could see Karl setting his jaw hard and a muscle ticking across it.

“It’s all good,” he replied since his husband preferred hostile silence.

“Really? Do you boys have an open marriage? You do,” Don said matter-of-factly. “What’s his name ... Ahab?”

Francesco felt the bite he took earlier threatening to climb back up his throat. It was impossible for Don not to know about Mouse, but so far, that had been only a distant threat, nothing to busy his mind with.

“A most delicious mouth, my friend tells me,” Don added.

Francesco wanted to run out of the room and call Mouse again; tell me to stop digging himself into a hole by getting close to his commander. All his actions, it seemed, were well-known.

“I thought Mouse’s commander didn’t do boys,” Karl said, and his cool, detached voice could almost fool Francesco.

“The commander?” Don snorted. “Captain Reynolds is not a faggot, like you. But I wasn’t talking about him.”

Francesco felt his breathing getting back to normal slowly. He had no idea he was about to hyperventilate.

“Right. You were talking about some faggot friend of yours,” Karl said with a sneer.

“Watch it,” Don growled. “I’m already too patient with the two of you.”

“What do you want?” Karl pushed away his plate, as good as untouched. His wine glass was half-full, just like Francesco’s. “By the way, tell Frieda the food sucks, as always.”

Francesco wanted to kiss Karl for his courage. Surreptitiously, he pushed away his plate, too. Maybe the food was really bad.

“Privileged boys like you, sneering at perfectly good food.” Don shook his head, but then propped his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers.

“We ate only roots and berries for months on our summer camp,” Karl said. “Remember, Cesco?”

Francesco nodded.

Don seemed to consider his angle, like a cobra waiting to strike. “As he remembers you raping his ass until you turned him into the bitch he is.”

So, gloves were off. Francesco straightened up in his chair and watch Karl tense. Were they just going to beat each other bloody? Was that was counted as nightly entertainment at the senator’s house? He surely hoped not.

“What’s the deal?” he intervened, breaking the tension for a moment. Karl and Don both looked at him. “Why are we here?” He dared to look at his father-in-law and sustain his stare.

Don grinned like he liked that curve ball. “You,” he pointed at Francesco, “are here to suck my cock.”

“I’ve already had cock today,” Francesco said brightly. “Karl just gave me a nice warm serving before we came here.”

He could tell by Karl’s appreciative smirk that neither of them would take this lying down.

“And was the little whore in you satisfied with just a snack?” Don challenged him.

Francesco wondered as he looked at the senator’s face. He was handsome in his cool detached way, and anyone could see Don in Karl, but Karl didn’t have that harshness in him, that maliciousness that defined his dad’s features.

“The little whore is very happy with his husband,” Francesco replied.

Don laughed, like he had just heard some funny joke. “Too bad it doesn’t matter. Come, Francesco, come suck daddy’s cock. Show Karl how it’s done.”

The sinking feeling in his stomach was telltale enough. He hoped it was just a turn of phrase and nothing else. “How about we just head home?” he asked Karl and pushed himself away from the table, making the chair creak and probably leave a mark on the polished floor. That maid could kneel, ass up, and polish it back as it was, while the senator probably stuffed her frigid ass with his cock.

“Aren’t you forgetting who runs the show here?” Don didn’t seem too amused now. “Get on your knees and open your mouth, Francesco, if you know what’s good for you and Karl.”

They were two, and the senator was only one. There was a good chance they could take the asshole down. He threw a brief look at Karl and saw him shaking his head and blinking slowly. Fuck, it looked like he really needed to do it, and in front of Karl, on top of it all.

However, they needed to sell the obedience act how it was supposed to be, with a healthy dose of reluctance. So, Francesco stood to his feet. “I’m pretty done with your crap, sir, with all due respect.”

Karl stood, as well, and buttoned up his suit jacket. Don smirked. “You two are really making my day. How was the wine?”

Francesco grabbed the edge of the table, as a slight dizziness hit him. “What the fuck?” he murmured, as he lost his balance and slid to the floor.

When he came to his senses, he was in another room, and it took him some good seconds to shake away his drowsiness. Could it be that the senator fucked his unconscious body while he was off? Talking about small mercies. Francesco could tell he was all naked and lying on a bed in a giant bedroom.