Page 34 of Volatile Waters

CHAPTER NINE

Continuing Cycles

6 Months later

Can danger bring about puberty? The answer is, yes. Did nature sense the need for immediate growth? Did nature know Harry needed muscles and iron balls in order to survive me? I would’ve once answered no, but that was before I witnessed Junior’s transformation.

Living with me and my men, Junior was under constant threat. Danger caused his body to race to maturity, so he could defend himself.

For the rest of us in the mansion, being strong was a job requirement. We handled both women and men. Young, strong men, we had to overpower and turn into submissive slaves. So, we exercised vigorously. Not with actual weights, but with our own unique program. On one end of the house, we had a gym made of obstacles. Concentrated arm, core, and leg strength were needed to get from beginning to end. Using long ropes hanging from the ceiling, we climbed flat walls with only a slight tilt and rocks walls, and would then body roll to our next challenge.

This room became a perfect distraction for Junior. He loved it and strived to be an expert in strength and mobility. He would ask to be permitted its use for extra hours every day. It seemed to be his outlet from all the confusion driving him mad. His circumstance, being held captive at such a young age, was beyond comprehension for him. So, we attempted to ease him into the whys of the Elites present. We explained what we had been taught, that the Elites liked this treatment, but he was not easily convinced. In fact, he wasn’t convinced at all as he witnessed women having to earn meals with sexual favors. He would gesture to the Elite in a submissive position. “She’s not smiling.”

Kirill would smirk while unbuckling his pants. “That’s because she hasn’t had breakfast yet.” To the slave, he demanded, “Open your mouth…” Junior would recoil and turn away. Kirill would only laugh. “Junior, try it before you judge.”

Junior refused every available Elite. I refused to force his first sexual act. I needed him on board. I needed him to enjoy his new job so that he could lead this training in America. Until he was willing, we taught him every detail we knew of the drug trade. Adrian had been involved with it for years before joining our force. We also taught him about guns. He was an impressive shot.

Entering the kitchen, where I was sitting, Junior demanded, “It’s my birthday. I want a tattoo.”

Junior was now fourteen-years-old. “And you’re telling me this, why?” I took a sip of coffee while nodding to Adrian, who had escorted Junior so that I could take over watching him.

Junior further explained, “I want you to make it happen. You killed my brother and stole me from my family. I’d say you owe me.”

Unable to deny the kidnapping, I sneered. “That murder wasn’t mine.”

He countered, “Well, Tim’s murder was.”

Ignoring guilt, I shrugged. “I don’t see your point.”

Junior stepped around the slave I was feeding and took a seat across the table from me. He pointed along his neck. “I want ‘Life’ with the date ‘Nineteen-eighty-two,’ the year my brother was born.”

I placed cheese in the Elite’s mouth. “Aren’t those numbers along your jugular a bit dramatic?”

Resting his interlocked fingers behind his head to stretch his growing biceps, he stared at me, seemingly lost in thought. “I can’t believe I am going to say this, but I feel sorry for you.”

That pissed me off, causing the Elite to cower while I growled, “Never pity the devil. It’s dangerous.”

No longer crippled by daily fear, Junior ignored me. “So, you’ll make it happen?”

Fighting a grin of respect, I asked, “How are your studies coming?”

He switched to Russian. “Very well. Thank you for asking, asshole.”

I caved and smiled. “The Elite teaching you Russian is doing a fine job. Has she sucked your dick yet?”

Junior not answering me was the answer. No.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Rounded shoulders moved as Junior reared back his arm. His fist soared forward with such speed, Kirill was stunned as he dropped to his knees. My laughter boomed throughout my father’s large living room, filled with wall to wall windows. The sun was shining off the snow on the ground outside; hence, the living room now a boxing ring. Kneeling slaves stayed off to the sides, near the furniture. They were to keep their eyes down, as always, but I ignored their peeks. I dare say I enjoyed them finding entertainment beyond servitude training. I blamed the new irrational thought pattern on the young man I was coming to appreciate. His youth and drive to survive was so similar to my own story, it almost saddened me to know his outcome would be no better, no kinder, than mine.

From the ground, Kirill wiped his busted lip while speaking in Russian. “This is not funny.”

“Yes, it is.”

Kirill snarled at Junior. “Stop speaking my language.”

Adrian bellowed, “Junior’s fist crashed into your skull!”