Hello all! I'm back. Just saying I'm a bit disappointed on how many views this is getting, or should I say, lack thereof. But I'm not giving up! If my other story could get in the thousands range, I think this one has the potential. Also, I have a cover image for once. I drew it myself! I better keep updating and working at this, I've decided I'm making this a three-shot. Or something more. Hopefully its going to be nothing more than five chapters.

Here y'go, guys. Part II. Don't forget to R&R, follow, and fave if you like what you read!

Possible trigger warning: Suggestive scenes, less implicit than what I'd written for the first part.

From the ages of eight to twelve, young Alois Trancy's days started by waking up at nine o'clock, two hours later than what was allowed to the normal boys. Being helped into a sitting position, he would have breakfast served to him in bed, never having to lift a finger as his butler held the fork up to his mouth for every bite. His nursemaid would serve him tea, telling him which uncles he'd be visiting with today.

Alois would then be helped off of his bed and carried upstairs for a bath. Why was he carried all the time, you ask? It was simply under the order of Mr. Trancy, you see. "Don't let the goods be damaged," he'd always say, "I want him in perfect condition." And so it went that Alois was only permitted to walk for a specific amount time and nothing more. He wasn't allowed to run or climb like the other boys could. Even going up and down stairs would never be permitted for Alois to do on his own.

Set gently in the water, which had to be exactly thirty-eight-point-five degrees celsius, Alois would have his hair and body washed thoroughly, his nails clipped and cleaned, his ears swabbed and his feet filed and rid of any rough skin until his fingertips and toes were the tiniest bit wrinkled from the water. His fair skin would be delicately dabbed with a towel with as little friction as possible to dry off the boy.

His first uncle would always be his Uncle Trancy, that would go without question, though the first visiting uncle of the day would arrive at about ten-thirty. Usually it was Uncle Victor or Uncle Lawrence, whom Alois came to be quite fond of. They would always come with gifts for the boy, sometimes even candy. Other times, It was Uncle John or Uncle Albert. As for them, Alois could never bring himself to want to see them whenever they visited. Uncle John was always sweaty and smelly, and Uncle Albert never could keep himself from touching the boy as soon as he was sighted. It was overwhelming to young Alois, and sometimes scary.

But he couldn't say that, oh no. One wrong word in front of Uncle Trancy and he'd be scolded with a lash to the back and a kick out the door. Alois was lucky he could act the part of innocent little boy quite well.

None of his other uncles came until the afternoon. This left Alois to his own devices for an hour or two before he had to take another bath and change into another set of clothes. Under the watchful eyes of Claude and Hannah, the young boy would explore the brothel at his own free will.

Walking through the corridors, he seemed to always meet with unkindly faces and was often ostracized by the other boys who would speak at him with every word laced in poison. Foul remarks such as 'filthy whore' and 'dirty tart' bounced off the brothel walls from every room of the building. Yes, you could say that Alois was thought of as nothing but a spoon-fed slut who thought himself to be higher and more deserving than the others.

Though he never responded and acted as if he didn't hear, Alois admitted to himself that it hurt a little.

But just a little. Not enough for him to think about it all day or make him cry. Why, you ask?

Because if there was one thing Alois was, is was that he knew better. Who were they to call him a 'whore' or 'slut' when they were the exact same as him? They were all part of the brothel, just as he was. They all had uncles, just as he did.

Well, to be fair, no boy had as many of them as he, and most of them would eventually decide to become one of his own.

Also, it was obvious that they all hated their position in the brothel. Surely they were saying all those things out of jealousy, which made it almost hypocritical, he thought, for them to want his popularity and favoritism from as many uncles as he had.

Alois would, like any other day, shrug it off and leave to explore some more. Maybe ask Uncle Trancy for a slice of the cake he'd seen the cooks put icing on in the kitchen. It was worth a shot.

/

Time passed and it was time to take another bath and dress for Uncle Edward, who came in three to five times a week to take Alois to his residence in Wembley. But first, his favorite uncle would always take him around London and spoil him with whatever he wanted. Alois enjoyed walking through the downtown area, everything from the cobblestone roadways to the happy people walking to the open stores and welcoming shopkeepers greeting him. They's stay for as long as Alois wanted, and if his feet were ever tired, Uncle Edward would give him a piggy-back ride for the rest of their time in town.

But most of all he liked the change of not having to wear flashy clothes that showed too much skin or had tight suit buttons. Sure, he was still dolled up in ribbons and ruffles, and he still had his trademark shorts and over-the-knee stockings -which most certainly turned heads- but he was thankful for the time he had in which he could wear something comfortable for a change.

On the carriage ride back to the brothel, the tired boy would always sleep in Uncle Edward's lap. He didn't smell that bad for an old man. Not like Uncle John, oh no. Uncle Edward smelled quite nice, actually. It was fresh, like a suit you'd just taken off the clothesline.

Alois would be back home at around five-thirty. He was always glad he could take a nap on the carriage ride back from Wembley, for a great number of his uncles would visit during the evening. He'd have his last and longest bath just before dinner, usually attending said meal wearing a fluffy white bathrobe that looked almost as expensive as some of the outfits he'd wear to please his many uncles.

He'd sit at his place beside Uncle Trancy, much to the other boys' envy. Uncle Trancy would feed Alois bits of his own, better tasting meal the same way the boy's butler would every morning. The old man took a sick pleasure in how delicate and his pet was in chewing the food, and found cute the clean and petite sneezes he'd make at the mere sniff of pepper.

Alois imagined that if he could, Uncle Trancy would take him to his bedroom for a second time. But he couldn't, not with all the other uncles coming.

During chore time, he'd be dressed and groomed for the last time of the day (or rather, the night). At this time Claude and Hannah would make sure his hair was the softest, his outfit the most appealing, and his face the palest white, save for his flushed cheeks that made his face almost look like painted porcelain.

He would then be carried upstairs to his bed where he'd be instructed to wait. It could be a long time, it could be a short time, but he would always do so with obedience until the first in a line of uncles came to see him.

They would always stay long, which would leave Claude and Hannah with just over ten minutes to re-dress him, re-brush his hair, and touch up on the small amount of makeup he had. They would finish barely before his next uncle came in. Alois became quite tired from the ordeal, but would never show it and would always put of an innocent face when each uncle came in.

Uncle Luther would say to him how pretty he was. "Just like a doll", he'd say.

Uncle Silas was gentle, always sure not to leave marks on the boy's skin like all the other uncles would.

Uncle Horace would be drunk and mean, yelling at him and calling him hateful things, fainting in the hallway after he was finished.

Uncle William was always rough when he came. It was painful to Alois through every visit with him.

Sometimes he didn't even know the uncles who visited, but they all kept him for long and the last one would always leave at almost midnight. Alois was so exhausted that he's let his eyelids fall when Claude and Hannah came in for the last time to change him into his nightclothes. Sometimes he'd drift off before they were done. They never seemed to mind, though. Claude was as stoic as ever, and Hannah always had that passive but agreeable disposition about her.

However, most times this wasn't the case. He was rarely lucky enough to be able to fall unconscious in a matter of mere minutes. Just as his caretakers were leaving after tucking him in, Alois would grab the end of Claude's tailcoat.

"Will you stay with me?" The boy would ask.

Claude sighed. "I think it unwise to-"

"Just until I fall asleep?" With as much effort as it took for Alois to open his eyes, he'd always choose this moment to bring out the big guns. He'd bite his lip as hard as he could to get the tears going. "I don't like it in the dark, and I'm already exhausted. Please, Claude?"

Claude never gave in because of the look. It was only out of concern that Mr. Trancy would see the teeth marks be cross and scold him for 'letting his precious pet do such things to himself'. Claude could almost hear the man saying it in his mind.

"As you wish." The man sat down on the edge of the bed, satisfying Alois. With Claude at his side he'd rest easy, maybe working up the courage and acting skills to get himself another hour to sleep in the next morning.

But today, it would all change. Those days would be gone, merely a thing of the past.

The year is 1888. The first recorded film is made in Roundhay in Leeds. A slew of murders comitted by the infamous Jack the Ripper leaves the nation in a wave of panic and unease.

Trancy's brothel is threatened with bankruptcy and leaving over fifty boys aged five to thirteen homeless and without food, water and adequate living conditions by the end of the year.

This was all because of one boy in particular.

Alois was changing. He was growing taller, his moods were flip-flopping from pleasant to not, and he was even starting to find hair in places he hadn't thought possible. Yes, it became evident that puberty was upon him. And it didn't go unnoticed.

Over time, Alois would notice his baths would be shorter and less frequent. He would never be 100 percent clean, either; he'd always find a few specks of dirt here and there. Sometimes his hair would be a bit oily and less soft than he was used to. He'd even notice that his nails almost reached over his fingertips. He didn't have to dress for as many uncles, either. For the first time in a long time, he could count who would come to visit him.

That number was eleven. He hadn't been as low as eleven before. Not since he was first taken in.

He was still well ahead of all the other boys, though. If he was to be any normal boy in the brothel, he'd be lucky to have five uncles in all, let alone ones who came regularly.

He still had his spot at the dinner table next to Father, who would still feed him bits of his food. He still didn't have to help with the chores. He still heard the other boys call him names.

But Alois couldn't help but feel that Father was starting to think less of him. When he was brought by Claude and Hannah to please Father, he wouldn't be kept for as long as before. Father never told him he looked lovely anymore. He was no longer a precious pet or delicate doll. Father's lusting eyes looked at him more as a force of habit than when he'd truly meant it.

But there was one day when Father's last strings of patience was broken.

It started out like any other day. Claude and Hannah had finished dressing Alois and was carried by his butler to Father's door as he had said he hadn't been feeling well after breakfast.

"We've prepared Alois, sir." It was Hannah who knocked, as Claude had his arms full.

"Bring him in." Said Father.

In a different and more appealing outfit than many Alois had worn before, the man was quite surprised of how lovely he'd looked. It was the best he'd looked in a long time, Trancy was sure of that.

As Claude and Hannah left, it started like older times. Though his stomach was still a bit sour, Alois was genuinely happy to be complimented on how he looked after so long.

Father started with the boy's legs. Instead of the usual nylon stockings Alois wore, he'd had fishnet ones with lace garter belts under his shorts, that were considerably shorter than what he'd normally sport. After that, a tight midriff-baring vest with a high and ruffled collar that didn't do much to help the growing lump in his throat. It was deep red, accented with a black bow placed over the boy's chest.

After a few minutes, Father got tired of merely fondling the boy and lifted him to the bed. But instead of being set down on it gently, Alois was thrown on it rather hard, almost hitting his head on the wall behind him. The impact, along with Father now on top of him, didn't make his stomach feel any better.

It was worse. Much worse.

Vicious kisses were placed on his neck, making the lump in his throat grow bigger. Alois could smell the sweat from Father's body as his hands ran up and down the boy's thin form. Alois could feel them over his stomach, making it churn and do somersaults.

"Father..." He barely had what it took to talk. "Father, please, not so rough..."

Father never heard him. Alois felt his collar being pulled down, giving the man more lip room as he kissed over the growing nausea collecting in the boy's throat that he'd tried to swallow down.

"Father, please be more gentle..."

His vest was undone now. Father had now started to leave a trail with his lips until he reached what Alois feared he would.

"Father, I don't feel well..."

The old man certainly took his time kissing the boy's stomach. He would spend several minutes on one place, leaving it bite-marked and red when he moved to the next spot. His large hands held it in place, pinning Alois to the bed which made the sickness rise inside him. Alois knew he couldn't hold it much longer. Scared of what was to come and what Father might do to him when it happened, he let the dam break and soon enough, tears had streaked and washed away his makeup that ran down his cheeks.

"Please Father, I'm going to be sick!" He sobbed quietly.

He covered his mouth with his hands. If he was going to puke, he might as well try to contain it. He hadn't even tried to get Father's attention again. There was no point, as the man was simply too blinded by his own lust over the boy.

Father never even noticed when Alois had started to retch. If anything, he only kissed harder, leaving bigger red spots and deeper bite marks.

What happened next Alois couldn't possibly explain. It all happened so fast and before he knew it, he was thrown off of the bed, covered in his breakfast that had came back up. Though it seemed everything he saw was filtered through rain, he knew that Father was angry with him.

Alois had never seen Father angry before. He'd never expected to be thrown to the ground like that. He was still in shock when Father struck him across his acid-covered face and called Claude and Hannah to take him out of the room.

They grabbed his wrists and started to drag him across the carpeted room and out to the corridor. Alois was numb to the the fact that his stockings were being worn to mere threads or that he was getting burns on his legs from the corridor's rug below him. Whispers and questions for the other boys were greeted by deaf ears that neither heard nor cared. Still, they did no got unnoticed by the two servants who, though said nothing, took in every word with their heads hung low. For if young Alois' reputation was threatened, so were their jobs.

"What happened?" Said one. "Look, he's not bein' carried like he was before."

"Look at 'im. He's bloody disgusting." Piped up a second. "First time he's been this big of a mess since they first took 'im in."

"My guess is that he was sick all over Trancy. Must've got sent out after that." Added a third.

"Serves 'im right, if you ask me." The first said.

"Serves who right?" Asked the third. "Trancy or the slut?"

"I don't know. Both of them, I'd guess."

"Definitely both of them," finished the second.

What the three didn't know, however, was that Alois caught the very last of the conversation. He heard it now, and he most certainly cared. As he was dragged further down the dorm corridor, most other boys had said the same thing. It seemed the more he heard it, the more it hurt him, creating a wave of uncontrollable thoughts through his mind.

What did I ever do to deserve it? He asked himself.

They're just jealous, that's it. They've been saying things like that for years. Why's it bothering me now? You're acting stupid, Alois.

But Father... Why did he do those things? I warned him, didn't I? He just wasn't listening. Then he throws me off the bed and strikes me...

It's not my fault. I did what I could.

Father ignored me. It's his fault.

Yes, it's his fault. But Father isn't going to think that. I know he's not. Too selfish for his own good. He'll pin the blame all on me.

He must hate me now. He's got to. I haven't been doing well these past few months. I'm no longer Father's favorite. I'm not his pet or his doll anymore. I don't mean anything to him like I used to. Today was my last chance, and I ruined it.

No. I didn't ruin it. It's Father's fault. If I was nine again, he'd never do what he did today. Never.

If Father hates me now... Then I hate him too.

Alois would replay these thoughts in his head, giving himself a weird kind of satisfaction in doing so until Claude and Hannah had set him in the bath, washing off the vomit that was drying at the edges. The servants kept busy, taking turns bringing in fresh water only for it to be changed soon after. This ordeal made Alois quite irritable, having to be brought in and out of the bath. As if I wasn't feeling terrible enough, he thought to himself. The repetitiveness of being carried only made his stomach sicker. At least I don't have to do it myself.

It was Hannah's turn to change the water. Claude had carried the boy out again and dumped out the dirty bathwater out the back window to the ground below. The nursemaid locked the door behind her, catching an eye of the few boys running down the corridor. Under the orders of Mr. Trancy, both she and Claude were instructed to stay clear of any other boys. Slipping past them in the corridor and out to the courtyard, she started filling a number of buckets from the well next to where some other boys were playing.

Telling herself to mind her own business, Hannah focused on her task at hand until she felt a tug at her dress. "Excuse me, miss." A small voice said. Turning around, Hannah was greeted by a boy no more than eight years old. Large eyes stared up at her, their rich dark brown irises being brought out by a mop of rust-colored hair. "Are you one of Ji- I mean Alois' servants?"

The nursemaid couldn't help but smile at the boy. "Yes, I am. Why do you ask, child?"

"W-Well," he stammered, "I 'aven't seen him yet today, a-and I was wondering... Is he okay?"

Hannah was astonished. No boy at the brothel had ever expressed this much concern for Alois before. "He's not feeling very well at the moment, but-"

"I 'eard what happened. Can you take me, miss? He knows who I am, and I know he'll let me in."

"Very well," said the woman. "In that case, will you help me carry some water?"

"Yes, miss, thank you ever so much!" The boy picked up a bucket and following the nice woman back inside the brothel.

"Call me Hannah," she said.

"Okay. I'm Luka."

On the walk back to the brothel, Luka talked and talked about him and Alois. "He's my brother, you see."

"Oh?"

"Well, he's not really my brother. We were on the streets together, me an' him. We stole stuff together and lived in an old barn near the river. One time we outran two men! They were tall an' strong an' they didn't even catch us once! Can you believe it?"

Hannah laughed. "No, I can't."

"You wanna know somethin' else? Mr. Trancy took us both in at the same time. I was too young to go in, an' he didn't want me. But Brother never once let go of me. He was yelling an' crying, saying he'd never leave me. He wouldn't go in unless Mr. Trancy took me in as well. And that's what he did."

"I see that Alois loves you very much."

"He does! And I love 'im, too. He'd always make time for me and tell me stories before he had to see one of his uncles." Luka paused, looking down. "But he doesn't do that as much as he used to. I guess he's got too many uncles now, doesn't he?"

All Hannah could do was sigh. From what she made of this boy, he was too innocent and oblivious to know that many of Alois' uncles had left and that the brothel was soon to be closed down. She couldn't tell Luka the truth. He loved his dear brother too much that he'd cry for him. Fortunately for her, there was no need to tell him anyway, as they'd arrived at the door. "We're here," she said. "Let me go in first, alright?"

"Okay."

Hannah reached into the pocket of her dress for the key and was about to unlock the door when Luka spoke again.

"Thank you again, Miss Hannah. For taking me here."

"You're very welcome, child. I'm glad there's someone who cares for Alois as much as you do." With Luka behind her, she opened up the door, smiling. "There's someone here who would like to see you, Alois."

I do not own the manga/anime Black Butler created by Yana Toboso or the song "Sandy Fishnets" by Evelyn Evelyn. Until next time, dear readers.