For Your Entertainment
Prologue: Who Was Given As A Present
For Alfred F. Jones's twenty-first birthday, he gets a rather unique birthday present.
It, surprisingly, is from his older brother Arthur. They've never been on good terms for too long — especially since their father chose Alfred to be the heir of a mansion — but something possesses Arthur to show up on his doorstep one day, a leash in hand.
"A-Artie?" Alfred blinks in surprise. Then he grins, showcasing two rows of gleaming white teeth. "Hey, bro!"
"Don't call me that," Arthur snaps. "Are you going to invite me in or would you rather us talk on your pathetic excuse for a balcony?"
Which was untrue. The balcony was exquisite, seeing as Alfred made sure the best gardeners were taking care of his flowers. He was quite fond of them, especially the roses.
"Sure." He shrugs, figuring that the sooner he lets Arthur do whatever he wants, the quicker he'll be gone.
Arthur nods stiffly and walks past him and into the vestibule, still carrying that leash. And as he passed, Alfred notices that there was a boy crawling behind…
"You got yourself a slave?" he asks, amused.
The leashed boy, dressed in tattered rags and covered in grime, falters in the middle of the doorway. Arthur yanks on the leash harshly and the boy pitches forward with a whimper.
"Actually, it's for you," Arthur says pointedly. "It's your birthday today, isn't it, you twat?"
How Arthur could manage to sound caring and insulting at the same time, Alfred didn't know. "Yeah. Finally of legal age, Artie. We're going out drinking tonight to celebrate." He smirks smugly.
Arthur rolls his eyes, as if he can't believe that Alfred actually followed age restrictions. "Well, it's yours now," he says, thrusting the leash in his direction. "Maybe you can get it to cook for you, seeing as you have no culinary ability whatsoever."
"As if you do!" Alfred retorts. He takes the leash, looking down at the material in appreciation. "Hm, leather. I like it."
"Take care of it," Arthur says flippantly. "Cost me a good lot of money, that one."
"Really, now?" The American glances down at the boy with new interest.
"Yes." Arthur turns slightly red. "He's just turned eighteen a few months ago, so— Ah, I shouldn't spoil it."
The boy seems to shrink further back. Alfred tugs on the leash experimentally, and feels the surge of power and authority it gives him. It feels thrilling.
"I'll be taking my leave now," Arthur continues. "I'd love to stay and criticise your lifestyle, but I unfortunately have a meeting with my boss."
Alfred waves him away dismissively, eyes never leaving his newly-acquired property. "Shut the door on your way out."
He misses the infuriated expression on Arthur's face as his brother storms out.
The slamming of the front door signals that he and the boy are now alone.
"All right." Alfred uses the toe of his boot to tilt the boy's chin upwards. "What's your name?"
Wide indigo eyes stare back at him, frightened. There's soot in his hair, but it does little to hinder the glow that the golden tresses give off. Alfred would be lying if he said that the boy didn't look attractive.
"I asked you a question," he says calmly, giving another tug on the leash. "What. Is. Your. Name?" He makes sure to enunciate each word.
There's another pause. "M-M-Matthew," the boy finally stutters. "Pl-Please don't h-hurt m-m-me."
Somehow, that just sends a delightful shudder up Alfred's spine.
"If you're good," he says, smirking. "But if not, I have a wide arrange of…toys that we can play with."
Matthew's eyes widen even further. "I-I p-promise I w-won't—"
"Good." Alfred tugs on the leash one more time. "Now, strip."
A/N: I hate myself for writing this. :D