A/N: Ok you guys, I have a new obsession with Alois and Ciel. THEY'RE TOO CUTE!Anyway, this is my first chapter book (YAY!), and I'll try to make weekly updates (no promises...jk, I've got CST testing, so I might have some free time to update.)

Chapter 1: The Beginning Of An Adventure [Alois's POV]

"Fuck me like I'm a toy!" I grasp this stranger who's name I don't even know. "Come on! Harder!"

"Gah, you stupid whore!"

It's pounding; deeper, faster, harder, stronger. I can't take it anymore.

"Ah! I'm going to cum!" And with that, I release my semen onto my body along with my latest one-night stand. Speaking of which, the male quickly wipes the sweat off his face, buttons his pants, and digs into his pockets. Out comes the very thing I've given up my body for: money.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Depends on how well I did tonight. Though I must admit, I'm one of the top paid whores in Jersey."

"Is that so?" With that, the man gives me 50 C$'s; from the NCSA, I mean. But he's one of my usuals, sometimes comes either a couple of nights in a row or once a month. I think he's gotten bored of my sexual teases. I do tend to do the same thing; maybe I should spice it up a bit. Once the door closes, I lie on my bed, naked, and cuddle up with the soft cooling blankets.

If you've bothered to read this far, then I must warn you; I tend to be a sexual beast.

But if your interested by all means, read on! My name is Alois M. Trancy, and my first/middle name means "famous warrior". Don't ask me why my parents decided to name me that retched name, I absolutely despise it. In no way would I ever consider myself to be such of a warrior, let alone a famous one. Though, I guess I could be one, considering my bravery after my parent's deaths. But I'd rather not mention them.

I grab the closest pillow on my bed and straddle it onto myself. Apparently my sexual appetite hasn't been fulfilled yet, because my body instinctively bucks with the sudden contact.

"Dammit Alois, haven't you had enough sex for one night?" I mutter. Instead of obeying, my body decides to continue to thrust. I learned this trick when I was around nine or ten, when I would sleep I would hear a stifled moan coming from one child's mouth. That night I turned to see them thrusting their genitals into a white pillow, not really fast, but just hard. He had a hand on his mouth, probably to stop the noise coming from his vocal chords, and then I noticed he stopped. I also noticed that something white splattered the white cotton.

Ten boys. All between the ages of ten and fourteen. All huddled into one big room with bunk beds on every corner. White wooden floors, sliver colored walls, and then the deep and dreary sadness that filled the room. I could sense it when I first came to the estate. I knew something other people in my village didn't. I knew who had been the master mind for several kidnappings going on. How could I, you ask? I was in his very mansion. Earl Trancy, a perverted man with such odd and disgusting fetishes one so old could only have. He would capture pubescent boys and make them his sexual slaves.

Could I escape? No. I tried one time, despite everyone else's warnings, and found myself being electrocuted. The door had a bio-scanner that would read a person's bio-signature. It was specifically engineered to only allow Earl Trancy to enter in and out, and if it didn't recognize you, you would get electrocuted. The door was also invisible, and slid open only when Trancy went in or out. I'm not going to bother to describe him to you, it's a waste of time. Overweight, gray hair, disgusting wrinkles, and some odd fetish for feet. I don't know, I guess when your that old, things like that arouse you.

I remember when I first met the pedophile. He'd been having some sort of 'fashion show', with boys strutting out their hips, and posing and kissing with such a limited amount of clothes. I ended up last. I'd always been one of the least favorites because of my, quote, "ugly, disgusting eyes". Yet I ended up being the sexiest one out of all, even if we were all wearing the same thing. What did I do? I simply flaunted about, ground upon a doorway, and put one of the sexiest performances ever! Ooh, was that dude aroused. In a quick and needy response, he told me "Please! Let me take you!"

I responded amazingly. Not knowing about his 'thing' for feet, I simply stretched out my skinny, pale leg. He grabbed onto it softly, and started massaging my inner thigh after admiring my white feet.

We did it, the Earl and I. Well, not right away. It took about a week for him to get the guts to take me, but it was nice and gave an amazing feeling that was foreign to my body. Although I was the victim of a kidnapping, I loved it. It's not like we were really 'abused'. I was moved to my own private room. It was completely white, like the one with the other boys, but this one had an invisible door that allowed Trancy and me to enter in and out. I was allowed everywhere in the mansion and pretty much did whatever I wanted. I didn't even want to leave.

Okay, I think I should start talking about my parents now, because I can't hide it forever. My mother and father had a divorce when I was a baby, my father inherited me, and because of that my own mother committed suicide. I heard from someone that her last words were, "I can't live in a world where my child is living with that devil!" before she plunged a knife into her chest.

My father escaped, and took me to a special little village, where I was actually abused and forced to work for being an 'outsider' and a 'worthless child'. I was hit with sticks, thrown rocks at, and called filthy names by the adults watching me. I noticed there was another boy who suffered the same fate as I did, and we became almost like brothers. His name was...I can't even say it, it's too painful. But he became my brother, and we protected each other. I felt a love I hadn't felt in a long time.

Then that day came. I was out of the village grabbing some supplies, and when I got back...fire burned all over the village in a blanket of red fury. I stayed on it's outskirts, not knowing what to do, not knowing how this could have possibly happened. When the flames died, I found my own unofficial little brother...cold stone dead on the pavement. "Please!" I cried, holding his limp body, "don't leave me alone!"

After I had the strength and willpower to leave him, I was treading when I was kidnapped and taken to Trancy's estate. But don't think I'm with him now, he's long gone. I killed him myself, let the others free, because although I enjoyed getting special treatment, all of those boys reminded me of my brother; so I let them free.

Of course I escaped the estate, never was I to go to that bloody estate again, and I was back on the streets. What could I do? I asked myself repeatedly. I had to find a way to make money, and no job would be so low as to hire a child. Well, that's what I thought. It took a while, but I found my new job that would scar me for life. Prostitution. It was the only job that would pay me decent money for selling my body. Besides, the escapades I had with Trancy had given me sufficient experience to meet the job's expectations. So I ended up changing my name to Alois Morgan, my two middle names at birth. My actual name was Jim Morgan Alois Macken, but I took the last name Trancy so I wouldn't forget my past.

"And now I'm here." I say as I cum on my pillow. "Wonderful."

I quickly grab a napkin and wipe the white liquid off the pillow, and take an inventory on the room. Blue walls, tan carpet, and a now messed up bed that has a crumpled blue bedspread. I'm in a motel, because that's where I usually stay after I've had a one-night stand, since I don't exactly have a house.

I awake the next morning with a jolt. By that, I mean I fall off my bed. I rub my back and walk into my bathroom to take a look at myself. I don't do this very often because I'm usually very busy. With what you ask? Well, it has something to do with my owner. I give him a third of my weekly pay, explaining why I'm always so busy any time of day! Sex after sex after more sex. Sometimes, when I wake with a sore ass, I have sex again to stretch out my muscles.

I make about...oh, maybe around two-thousand a week? Doing lots of little favors really ups your pay; things like whining a little more, begging them to hurry up, and especially to cry. You'd think I'd be uncomfortable talking about this, but nope! Actually, I'm fine with it, because I know you won't mind, right? I hope not. I don't have any friends, most of my time is reading books. I love books. Some of my favorites are Great Expectations, philosophies of all wonders, and The Diary of a Young Girl. Reading is mostly what I do in my spare time, even though it's a rare occasion when I have any.

But I'll just move on! Anyway, I look at myself intently in the mirror. I've got blonde hair that could really use a hair-cut, glassy blue eyes that are a real turn on to customers, and I know you probably don't want to hear this (IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE THE PLEASE DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING SENTENCE), but my dick is actually pretty big comparing other boys my age. Is that weird to say that so comfortably? Sometimes, when I'm not doing particularly well with a customer, I'll whisper dirty things into their ears to get them more excited. Something like, "Hey baby, my asshole is just aching to be pounded by your huge dick." or "Give it to me hard, just fuck me like I'm a toy!" or even "Oh, my ochinchin is just throbbing for your touch...*insert groan here*." By the way if your wondering, 'ochinchin' is a child's word for penis. Sometimes something like that will really get a client going.

"Ah...Alois Trancy, you've got a shit load to do today, huh? And you decide to wake up late? Smart, Trancy boy, smart." I don't exactly know why, but teasing myself makes me feel so much better in the morning, when I'm usually a pain in the ass.

I hold up my Transporter and say, "Take me to 31340 Crimson Avenue, stat." I'm pixelized and arrive in front of my destination in seconds. The house looks like a regular closed-down shop, you'd think it'd be abandoned. But it's not. I hold my hand out and a scanner wipes my hand up and down. "Bio-scan complete," says a computer generated voice, "Worker: Alois M. Trancy. Age: Fourteen. Occupation: Professional in sexual services." The brown door that looks so old it would break slides open in a futuristic manner, and I walk into a tiny room made of all chrome. I stand on an 'x' directly placed in the middle of a circle on the chrome floor, and am shot upstairs quickly. I arrive at the attic of the house, and in there waits my other co-workers. Then I see my owner, the one who hired me. I don't know his first name, but he's got black silky hair, auburn eyes covered by square glasses, and a smile that comes by so rarely. Right now he's frowning.

"Trancy, I thought I told you not to arrive late from now on."

Shit, I forgot, he distinctively told me that a couple of days ago.

"My apologies, Mr. Faustus."

"May I have your report?"

I hand him a bundle of papers. "Yes sir."

On the papers are information about my latest customers. Faustus always looks them over to see what kind of clients come to us workers individually, to see which people we should each target. It's a good business tactic, I must say.

"I see, you've been attracting more older men than you have before." says Faustus with his lips almost forming a smile. "Interesting. I would assume that younger males would go for someone like you, considering your sex appeal and since they're usually so horny at that age, but I guess you've been acting more innocent than usual, thus attracting much more older men" He skips to the last page and his auburn eyes go large in shock. "You've been making a lot more than usual. Alois, for you, I think you should keep up the lolita act, it seems older men are willing to pay more for that."

I reply with a simple nod, and Faustus continues doing the same with each of the others. I'll admit, I'm pretty anti-social, so I don't know a lot of the others, but one of them usually catches my eye. She's way older, maybe in her late twenties, but yet she has gray silky hair that goes down to the middle of her back. She's tan, and wears distinctive purple lipstick and wears a conservative-like maids outfit when all us workers get together each morning. But I've seen her when she's on duty. Now, I'm not exactly gay, although 90% of my income comes from males, but she looks pretty sexy in her uniform. Black lace lingerie. Of course, tons of the other whores wear the same, but there's one thing that gets a lot of guys going. She's got the biggest breasts I've ever seen, and I've had my fair share of big-breasted women in my earlier days. Perhaps this is why she's still on the Top Pick List. The Top Pick List is a piece of printed paper, updated each week, that shows the Top 3 most favorite whores in the company. Before I came, I heard she was number one. Guess who's number one now.

"You are all dismissed." Says Faustus when he's doing talking to each of us. I quickly run out and hide in a blob of people, when the man calls, "Alois, come here." in an exsasperated kind of voice. I sigh too, and flop into a chair in front of his desk. "What?"

"Hm, your such a spoiled little brat."

"Like you care, all you want is money."

"True. So tell me, Alois, how do you do it?"

I cock my head. "Do what?"

"Make so much money. Your the youngest whore here and you make double what the other favorites make. Not to mention your gender makes it hard. How do you do it?"

"I don't know, I act charming and shit, and then the boys'll come to fuck me." My head is being held by my hand which is leaning on his desk. I'm bored.

"Well I guess a lot of men have turned gay, because before you came, the girls were the ones that dominated the charts. Not that they still don't, Hannah and Alice are still on the list, but yet you, a male prostitute, are number one. It must kill them inside."

I groan. "Are you trying to butter me up, Faustus, or are you inviting me for a nap? Because if it's the latter, then thank you."

He laughs, an uncommon thing for him to do. "My dear boy, why do you think that I'm always trying to trick you?"

"Because I'm not stupid."

"Huh, that's a good thing. If you don't mind, I'm going to tell you a secret."

"Go ahead, I don't have anyone to tell."

"Alright." Faustus comes right next to my ear. "It happened again. Another worker was raped while on the job."

"Then fucking do something about it instead of sitting on your lazy ass all day."

Another laugh. "Alois Morgan Trancy, you flatter me."

"I thought I told you that I do not appreciate being teased with my middle name!?"

"But it's just so fun to see your reaction, my dear boy."

I get up and push the chair to his desk. "I'm leaving."

"Alright then, goodbye Alois."

I slam the door closed and stand on a black circle on sturdy wooden floor. I'm pixelized and brought to the chrome room again, where a camera attaches itself to my head, in order to check that the coast is clear.

"All is good."

"Affirmative," says another computer voice, "Destination?"

"23894 Archibald Lane." The motel I was at in the morning.

"Affirmative. Arriving at destination, now." I'm pixelized once again and then arrive inside my room. The Transporter used sometimes looks into your brain to know exactly where you desire to go. I instantly flop on the white mattress and take a nap.

You'd think with all my money, that I'd be living in a mansion or something, but no. I made a contract with Faustus, saying that I'd work with him for five years and I would receive 2/3 of my income. I guess in the end it was a great idea, because Faustus would become gloriously rich if he hired enough people. I agreed, because I was starving, homeless, and desperately in need for money. And I don't regret it, I make good money, I'm not being abused or being used by a pimp, and I'm objectified by my boss, although I'm not exactly sure in which way. But what do I care? As long as I get what I need, I'm happy. Anyway, the main reason that I don't have my own house is because we travel so often, from London to Australia, and then back to my home country, the Northern Confederate States of America. The reason we're not traveling now is because, as Faustus said, the number of workers being raped is increasing, and when that happens, they have automatic authority to stay in the business or quit. Most quit. Sometimes, on my harder days, I've wished that I could just quit living.

"Alois, you didn't bring your paperwork today. May I ask the reason?"

"I didn't fucking do anything yesterday."

"Why?" Faustus's eyes look wide with obviously fake confusion.

"Because I was tired and I've been working a shit load lately. Problem?"

"Not at all," he folds his hands on his desk, "just wondering."

My right leg is crossed over my left, and my head is flat on his desk. I've been working non-stop for the past week, and my sleep is starting to catch up on me.

"You'd better get some sleep, your going to need it."

I shoot my head up to face the mind-reader. "For what?"

He smiles mischievously. "We're going to London."

Authors Note: AND WHO DO YOU THINK ALOIS IS GOING TO MEET THERE!? Sorry, just excited. Thanks for reading Ch. 1, R&R if you think I should continue! Thanks!