Chapter 2: Dirty Water
A knock sounded the piano room and I stopped staring at the ivory keys. I never intended to reach this room, yet in times of contemplation - I seek the solace that only the silence in a music room can prescribe.
The piano still had her name engraved on the closing. Tabby Waitstill. My mother hated every room in the house save for this one. She hated every gift my father gave save for this one.
"Enter" I spoke into the empty room. The door opened and Link's face stayed at the doorway. I smirked at his attire, he often dressed himself like a cabbage but today he looked slightly less comfortable in a white shirt and cotton trousers suspended to his shoulders.
"Apologies for disturbing, Young master Waitstill. Your father and uncle awaits your company in the meeting room."
Uncle Henley wasn't set to arrive until the day after next. His early arrival brought nothing of a surprise to me, he often administered logic at the last minute. I rose from the piano seat and made my way to the door, stopping short in front of Lincoln; the house butler.
I straightened his collar and knelt down to whisper in his ear, "Link, call me Micah otherwise I'll have Birch slip something stronger into your afternoon tea and your missus would not be pleased with your drunk arrival home" I smirked.
I left him with heated cheeks and sputtering words. My brothers and I always found pleasure in finding new ways to make Link squeal. He was a slender thing for 30-something years old. He knew naught about chivalry and house-keeping but he knew how to keep his mouth shut. That' all that mattered in the Waitstill household. One word to anyone who isn't privy to our business and you might just find yourself frothing at the mouth in a seaside alleyway. I grinned darkly. I no longer shook at the thought of cold murder and men that prayed to nothing but money and greed.
I descended the grand staircase in the east wing and passed the kitchen, finding my half-sister Elle talking to Radella by the pots. She likes to think no one knows about her illicit affair with the dark skinned cook who is nearly ten years her senior. But in a house where you need to be four steps ahead of everyone, Finn and I found her licking the servants cunt by the cleaning quarters. Had it been Theo, Finn or I who had Radella's muff on our tongues - Father would have had our heads on the chopping block. He has no problem with Elle or anyone experiencing the same sex although society dictates it as sinful. Fraternizing with the help, however, is an entirely different situation.
Theo lusts after our half-sister, so the picture would have painted him red with rage. Finn and I decided it wise to keep it to ourselves, not even mentioning to Elle that we knew her little secret. Yet, every time we sit in the dining hall and Radella comes out presenting the nights meals. Finn and I share a cursory smirk at each other at the look of hunger on Elle's face. Knowing full well that the dinner isn't what she starves for.
I walked toward the meeting room and knocked on the wood. The glimmer of the candle chandelier overhead flickered with the air when the door opened. Uncle Henley smiled brightly at me as if my presence was something he prayed for everyday. I let a touch of a smile hit the corner of my lips as I greeted him with a hug.
"My boy, you get broader and broader every time I see you," he grunted "When are you going to let him out, Nick?" he turned to my father, speaking like I was a caged animal under lock and key. Most days, it felt like I was.
"It's good to see you, Uncle" I said, walking and taking a seat on the plush satin couch that faced both my father and uncle on the opposite couch. My father poured me a cap of whiskey and passed it over the table that separated us. I downed the glass in a second making both men laugh.
The burn felt ten times stronger when my Uncle spoke, "He looks the smitting image of Tabs" he said referring to my mother.
"You hear that, Mike?" My father smirked up at me, "You look like a fucking girl."
"Speaking of girls...Casey?" he called and out of the shadows in the corner of a room rose a small frame of a woman. She had strawberry stained hair that flowed in tresses to her round belly. She had a baby, I thought. It wasn't like Aunt Luella to let Uncle Henley knock up the whores.
Casey walked toward Uncle Henley while my father discussed the recent capture of male and female slaves. He said they were due to arrive at The Ivy by this morning, he would ask Egerton, our Keeper of slaves to go and fresh pick the ones headed for auction, brothels and personals to the court and justice tomorrow. Uncle Henley mentioned something about going with Egerton but I cancelled out the sounds.
I had never been into The Ivy. A storage containment that held the captives and presented them for the taking. My father had taken my mother once and she came back sick to her stomach, this was before she passed away from a plaguing fever. She told me that it was a place meant only for the cruelest of demons. Mother once believed that something or someone would stop this hateful trade of pussy and cock. She was one of the first to find out that in a city cloaked by darkness and a craving appetite for the twisted, it was the chancellors, the men of the law and everyone in between that enjoyed it the most. They were the ones that could afford such a high end cuisine of women and men alike.
Soon after Mothers death, Father kept Blythe. A too-young slave that fulfilled his needs and shared the same hair color that Mother once did. I looked around the room but Blythe was nowhere to be found, knowing that she could be at the baths safe from my fathers alcoholic state at the moment - I relaxed.
Both men were laughing over something and I leaned forward to pour myself another drink. Uncle Henley pulled on the translucent white material that clung to the slave like sweat. He turned Casey to me with a look of raw passion in his eyes. I tipped the glass to my lips and took my time drinking.
The material slipped from the slaves shoulders and pale heavy breasts came into view. I saw see that her nipples were peaked and small milky white beads sat atop them like dew on a blade of grass.
"After letting Casey have her baby," Uncle Henley spoke roughly cupping one breast in his hand and massaging the skin. "I found a new sort of pleasure from the slave's body." Casey shuddered under his touch and looked directly at me. My father got up from his seat and went to sit at his desk gathering paperwork and various documents into a pile.
I dragged my gaze back at the pretty pet that was told to walk over to me by my uncle. "I've come to love the taste of a woman's breastmilk, Micah. You should try it and see."
I downed the rest of the whiskey.
Casey walked towards me hesitantly and lifted the white cloth that draped across her waist. She straddled my lap and without asking for permission, slid her fingers through my hair. I grabbed her wrist and she let out a moan in response.
"May I, Master?" she asked me. I looked behind her at my Uncle who was stirring his liquor in his hand not looking away from the situation. He tipped his glass forward in invitation and I looked back at Casey. I nodded slightly and she dipped her head down to lick the corner of my mouth where a drop of whiskey still sat. I let go of her wrist and stared intently as she savored the small luxury in her mouth. Tipping her head back, her hair falling downward. She offered me her heavy breasts.
I parted my mouth slightly and kissed the corner of her rosey nipple. She let out a small sigh and relief parted from her lips when I closed my mouth on the bud and sucked. Not once closing my eyes, I reached for the side of her tit and squeezed the flesh, feeling the spurt of milk lace my mouth. Warm, it mixed with the bitterness of the whiskey I drank.
"Isn't she sweet?" Uncle Henley asked me as I fed on her. I've become immune to any sort of revulsion against a persons kinks. I harbored some dark ones of my own. As each bead of milk travelled down my throat, I looked to my father and Uncle who both had a twisted look of pride in their eyes. As if I was the product of both their accomplishments, showcased with my corrupted mind.
Casey sucked in a breath when I bit her nipple into my mouth. The pressure eased from her face and I saw a distant hint of sexual arousal, felt it when she started moving against my trouser-encased cock. Milk started dropping from her other breast as if asking for attention and I moved my mouth to latch on to the other one.
When Uncle Henley called for Casey to come sit in his lap and share with him, I asked for dismissal from the room. My father called me to his desk and gave me a set of papers that I needed to read and sign in order for the next batch of slaves to arrive safely. We had contacts within the higher system that kept what we did out of the papers and fears of the civilians minds. I had a benefactor meeting tomorrow morning with Cherry, my best friend Birch's older sister that I promised my father I would behave my best on. Smirking as if already disbelieving my statement, he excused me to get on with my day.
As I exited the meeting room, I saw my youngest brother Finn waiting besides the game room. Hiding in the dark was often his way of observing the world. When he noticed me, he came out of the shadows and paled at the look of my face.
"I'll keep the door," he whispered knowing already what I was going to ask. "Be quick"
I nodded my thanks and headed into the game room, hearing the door shut behind me. I could hear Finn's body slump against it and knew that he would wait till I got out. For a young boy of seventeen, Finn knew too much of the world and understood even more of what I did. Smarter than the whole house put together, he was too soft for the reality we lived in. I wasn't afraid to show that he was my favourite person in the world. We balanced each other, with his kind heart and my cold one.
I walked to the side of the room where a bathroom was fixed in with the plumbing up to date. Everything was up to fucking date. I entered and looked at myself in the mirror above the sink. Pale skin and sleep-lacking brown eyes stared back at me. My brown hair was a mess atop my head curling at different sides making me look lighter than I was. Emotionless
I recounted the events in the meeting room and knelt down in front of the toilet. Lifting the lid, I stuck two fingers down my throat and a potion of milk and whiskey emptied out into the dirty water in front of me.
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