Stained Wedding Sheets

Virgin Mary's wedding sheets were stained by the blood of the Whore of Babylon.

Earl Phantomhive is getting married to the bride he never asked for, though he can't say he is surprised by this unfortunate turn of events. However, he may need assistance when it comes to learning how to please his bride for their first night together. Luckily his butler knows one thing very well, his Master learns best... hands-on.

It’d be a long night.

It was dark. Blue blotches and grey waves adorned the sky. Despite being a cloudy day, it was clear it was close to evening, as the sky stretched over the lands like an incoming blanket, sweeping the dark Phantomhive manor away with it. Earl Phantomhive despised it. Not that it was night, but that time was flowing and could not be stopped, the loathsome reality that tomorrow would come soon and then he would have to do his brother’s duty. Dutifully he’d marry the cousin he only ever saw as a cousin and consummate a superficial marriage with her, just to save face in his Earldom and between other nobles. But most of all, to gain his Aunt Francis’ trust, she who had been suspicious of his act as ‘Ciel’ from the start. He needed to do this for his revenge, for power. Elizabeth was the ideal wife who would protect him from harm whilst also seen as a sweet, virginal angel. But who needed her? He had a demon on a leash, after all and he would protect him much better than his cousin could. A crackle from the fireplace followed by a monstrous boom of thunder jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Master, is there- “Sebastian,” the Lord interrupted, turning away from the large window in his exceedingly warm study, “are the preparations for tomorrow’s ceremony complete?”

“Yes, sir,” said his butler, as always, easy on the eyes and polite to match, their bickering having died down prior to the announcement of the wedding event. Just as the rumours of his marriage with Elizabeth arose, a distance grew between the two, “I was wondering if you’d retired to bed yet, it is late.”

Late, he thought to himself absently, if only it was ‘too late’, and his soul had already been consumed then he would not have had to marry a woman he cannot bear to sleep with, someone he cared for but only as family.

“What is the matter, my Lord?” Sebastian inched closer, presumptuous since their return from Germany nearly a decade ago. After all, getting away with nearly breaking the terms of the contract with not so much as a slap on the wrist would make any demon arrogant, let alone one like Sebastian, already so brazen. Sometimes the Earl almost wished he’d been eaten right then and there so he would not have to put up with this devil.

“The servants have already gone to their quarters to rest so it’s best you also...” Sebastian paused, head cocking birdishly, “You do not seem to want this marriage, my Lord.”

“You say it as though it’s a new discovery. Would you like to report my unhappiness about my marriage as a headline story for The Daily Telegraph too while you’re at it?” He shook his head disappointedly, not knowing why he suddenly had such an emotional outburst, but he hoped Sebastian would bear it and not look down on him. He began to imagine a page out of the Illustrated London News⁽¹⁾, his scandal printed into the pages, behind articles about The Chinese Crisis or Zanzibar’s Britain-appointed Sultan attempting to abolish slavery.

“Master, forgive me if I’m stepping out of line- “As you always seem to do,” the Earl said, harsher than intended but not bothering to amend it.

“I merely wanted to ask if you were uncomfortable with the night of the wedding more than the idea of the wedding itself,” Sebastian looked at him, eerily sure of himself, “but that couldn’t be the case, surely?”

“Whatever gave you that ludicrous idea?”

“Well, you see, I was preparing your bedchambers for tomorrow and it seemed you were quite irritated when you walked in,” this time the question was genuine, “I’m curious, did I perhaps do something wrong? If I did, please let me know.” A moment of silence, “Or maybe you didn’t want me to prepare your bedchambers tonight? I just thought it would save time if I prepared it the night before and you sleep in a guest room tonight, my Lord, surely I can change this arrangement if it upsets you so.”

“No, it’s just that I-” He sighed, not quite sure of what to say next, sweat drops having a marathon on his forehead. After a moment, emotion burst out of him, “..God, I don’t know what to do, I have no experience whatsoever!”

“Ah no sexual experience, I see, your anxiety is justified, Lord,” Sebastian rubbed his chin, recalling Elizabeth’s excitement for the wedding night, he could hear her from the carriage, happily musing about how excited she was for the first night with ‘Ciel who just keeps getting cuter’, accompanied by Paula’s gentle advice to not seem anything less than the pure woman she is. Truly, humans are strangely obsessed with etiquette in the bedroom. For a moment, he recalled the days of debauchery he’d gone through during the previous centuries, amused at how humans view sex as intimacy and love while also seeing it as animalistic, wrong, calling lust a deadly sin.

“Do you have nothing to say to me? Just that I’m right to be anxious? Is this your way of comforting your master?”

Sebastian, whose tea-coloured eyes had drifted to the dying flames of the fireplace, brought back his focus unto his sighing Master, “I apologise, my Lord, I was just thinking if I could procure some books to assist you in your wedding duties for tomorrow,” Sebastian bowed, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Books will not help,” he said, pointing to the stack of books in his study that towered up from his desk, practically warning that they’d topple over soon with a crooked lean, “trust me, I’ve done my best already.”

“But it is of utmost importance that a noble Lord of your standing can consummate his marriage correctly,” Sebastian picked up the books, flipping through them and reading with ease, his eyes widened, “I’m shocked, this is...” He put the books down, “I do not think I’ll be able to find any books that explain with better detail than this and yet these books say nothing at all when it comes to the actual act.”

“So then, what am I to do?”

Sebastian paused, cogs turning in his head as his eyes darted around the office, on the prowl for an idea and then finally landing on his Master, “Sir, you do remember back when you were younger, I taught you how to dance with a lady, did I not?”

The young man stilled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d like to try doing it again, if you do not mind.”

- “Doing what again?”

“Teach you how to treat a lady,” he turned to leave, “I’ll be back in a moment, Master, we’ll begin simply, with a short session of dancing.”

⛧

“You’re unbelievable,” he gasped, stupefied as Sebastian walked in, silk bridal-gloved hands putting a golden ornamental candle stick on his desk, and illuminating the dark office, barely lit by the fireplace, “I was not under the impression you would actually put on a wedding dress to dance with me, are all demons so enthusiastic to dress this way and dance the night away with their contractor?”

Earl Phantomhive was desperately trying to get a reaction out of the demon. Though he did not particularly care what the reaction was; anything really, to feel as though he has the upper ground against this beautiful tutor, watching as the butler he so cruelly sacrificed his twin’s soul to do a sweet little curtsy with a wry smile settled on those dulcin lips that cannot lie to him, “Will you not dance with me, my Lord? I must remind you; you do need the practice.”

He extended a hand while still looking at those enticing lips, “Fine, teach me, but you didn’t answer my question. Are other demons so willing to dress in such a humiliating manner?”

Candlelight was bouncing off the demon’s gloved hands as he placed them in his Master’s shaky ones and as if on automatic cue, the phonograph in the office started to play, “There are many things a human like you is yet to learn about me. More importantly, I was already humiliated greatly when I was stripped after my ‘death’,” he said then quickly pulled his Master’s hand behind his waist, “you need to hold the Lady’s waist like so in the Galop and look at her, I won’t ask you to bother with smiling as I know it has never been your strong suit. Let us commence.”

The Earl knew he was dancing poorly, nearly ruining the dress a couple times as he messily stepped around it, “Goodness, this is just as complicated as I remember.”

Sebastian locked eyes with his human, then raised a brow, “Master, forgive me for asking this but did you not read that manual I gave you?”

“Which?”

“Round Dancing by M.B. Gilbert⁽²⁾,” the butler, or rather the extremely tall faux Lady, sighed and disappointedly squeezed his contractor’s shoulder, “clearly you haven’t read it, judging by that vacant expression on your face, like a lost little puppy.”

“More importantly, why are we dancing?” The Lord Phantomhive said, hesitant steps following along the music, palms sweating into Sebastian’s bridal gloves, hoping it wouldn’t soil them for the wedding day itself, “Were we not to practice… other things?”

“You’d like to dance with Miss Elizabeth, would you not?” questioned the butler.

“Are you Miss Elizabeth?” snickered the Earl.

“Snide remarks aside… You love her, do you not? Making her happy requires meeting her expectations,” Sebastian’s face was closer than it should be, considering the dance did not require both partners’ breaths to be felt on each other’s faces yet the wispy wind both parties were letting out was mingling, Sebastian’s breath caressing the Lord’s cheek as he spoke, “and she expects you to dance.”

Nothing was said for the following few minutes, with the dance continuing as smoothly as it could, especially considering the young man’s internal turmoil, not sure whether he should focus on his consistently atrocious footwork or try to maintain some eye contact with his servant who was attempting to teach him how to dance, tenaciously clinging onto his damp hand, guiding him swiftly. The steady lack of improvement on the human’s part was surely frustrating but Sebastian made no show in revealing it, as if completely unfazed, he did not stop dancing until the end and it was endlessly humiliating for the human, unable to even look the demon in the eye for a mere second. In the end, his stare remained on the Holy Bible laying menacingly on his desk, just barely visible behind Sebastian’s head, a simple gift given by the Vicar to congratulate Earl Phantomhive’s marriage and his romance with Lady Midford, claiming it blossomed into something wonderful. All that talk had made him even more nervous. The dance finally concluded, indicated by the screeching halt of the music-playing phonograph as the office fell silent. He groaned as he sat down, “Sebastian, go bring me something to drink before…” He froze, “What are we going to do next?”

“I suppose we can discuss that in your bedchambers. Before that though, what drink would you like? Tea? Perhaps Chamomile? To relax you. Nerves and jitters have taken over you.”

“Just a glass of water would suffice,” he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the fact that Sebastian likely felt his trembling heartbeat through the veins of his palm as they danced.

“Very well,” Sebastian responded, always doing as he’s told, walking away semi-awkwardly in that wedding dress his long frame was clearly unaccustomed to.

Earl Phantomhive almost had the urge to laugh. Almost.

⛧

The glass of water did not, in fact, suffice.

Somehow, after drinking it, the Earl felt more suffocated than before. What was currently before him may have been the most terrifying sight of his life; a bedchamber with clean white sheets, a frugal amount of rose petals sprinkled all around. Now that they were in an even dimmer lit room, the dress was surprisingly more noticeable; perhaps because they weren’t dancing or rather because the limited light reflected brilliantly off the embroidery on the dress. The butler had a veil on now, a small smile again on those sinful lips that had been painted with a sophisticated yet delicate wedding makeup, as if mocking the sanctity of marriage itself. The Earl Phantomhive hopelessly sighed and said, “Now what, Sebastian? Don’t you think you look like a fool? I cannot imagine Elizabeth when it’s quite obviously you in front of me. Do you take me for a blind man? I still have one eye uncovered.” He adjusted his eyepatch.

“I suppose it’s understandable that this would make it hard for you to picture a wedding night,” Sebastian sighed, “I wish I could change my facial features for you but all I can do at the current is change my biological components, would you like for me to change my body shape to be more similar to Lady Elizabeth’s? Perhaps if I changed my hair-” He pondered for a moment, then spoke as if taken by an epiphany, “Actually it would be a decent idea for me to procure a mask that-”

“Absolutely not,” the twenty-two-year-old replied with certainty, remembering for a split second when his handsome butler Sebastian Michaelis miraculously became middle-aged vicar Jeremy Rathbone. It was extremely unnerving, even for a human like himself who’d supposed he’d already seen the worst sights the world had to offer; he became uneasy simply recalling how his butler—so sleek and elegant—had suddenly changed his appearance so. Perhaps it was comforting to have one thing in his life that was unchanging.

“My Lord? You seem deep in thought.”

“Do whatever you want with your…” He cleared his throat despite not needing to. After all, no matter how mature he masqueraded himself to be, he was still a young noble man with absolutely no sexual experience, “..B-Biological components, it does not concern me, just don’t change anything else.”

“But Lady Elizabeth’s bosom-”

“Silence, do not speak of my lady’s bosom.”

He did not want to think that Sebastian was upset or hurt by what he said. In fact, he knew with utmost certainty that the demon wasn’t capable of it and yet, he was so sure that the expression on his devil’s face as he said those words were nothing less than displeasure and genuine offence; a feeling that both knew, he, a demon, could not comprehend. He did not see humans as worthy to insult him so nothing they could do would genuinely upset him. At least that’s what he’d said, and Sebastian was not one to lie.

As usual, Sebastian himself internally brushed off his annoyance as the simple irritation of being besmirched by this unruly soul. A usual comfort when he was particularly irate due to his master’s antics was to imagine the exultation he’d experience once this contract is complete—once he could sink his teeth into this tormented soul, besieged with sorrow. This daydream was effective in the past but after a couple of years, instead of schadenfreude at the upcoming suffering of his contractor’s imagined demise, he felt a sense of inertia, an apathy he didn’t understand.

“My apologies, sir,” the butler paused, still processing his thoughts, “perhaps you’d like to start by saying the words you will be planning to say to the lady..?”

- “Words… Like my wedding vows?”

“Similar to that, yes.”

Confused, the nobleman simply looked at his butler, “I-I do not know what to say.”

“Perhaps something seductive, fill the lady with anticipation, aim to excite her with your speech, do not be too handsy however,” Sebastian stepped over and held his hands forward, this time gloveless, “hold her hand but don’t do much else.” The Lord took Sebastian’s hands, still bigger than his into his own. His eyes drifted to the pitch-black nails, and of course, their contract mark that was a glimmering violet, the iridescent glow oddly reassuring. Sebastian squeezed his hand a little and the human realised this demon who could control fearsome flames with his hands had an icy palm and frozen fingertips. He let out a sigh as the cold seeped into his own palms, wettened by hidrosis.

“You're cold, it’s uncomfortable to touch you if you are freezing,” he spoke unintentionally critically, but was again unwilling to crush his pride and alter his tone, too scornful to do so and chronically surreptitious of the desire he had for Sebastian, still in a denial of sorts.

Sebastian stiffened, yet spoke with an assured tone like always, as if unfazed, simply letting go of the human’s hands and gesturing ambiguously towards his own body, “Forgive me, changing the internal structure of my body is difficult, even for me. To mimic a human’s internal organs inside me is not easy.”

“Do what you must then, the cold is bearable,” a moment passed.

“The lady may be cold too,” Sebastian added, as if to cover his shortcoming, “women often become anxious on their wedding night.”

“I see,” he thought about it and was sure Elizabeth would not be nervous on their wedding night unless she worried about not being seen as cute enough. He opened his palm, watching as Sebastian looked at his hand with a puzzled expression, “Your hand, Sebastian,” and on queue, his butler obeyed, frigid fingers landing on the Earl’s perpetually sweating palms, he then asked, bewildered as ever, “and now after holding hands? What must I do then..?”

Sebastian’s voice was more of a whisper now, “Now, you should say to her what you must.”

All of a sudden, panic took over him as beads of sweat rolled past his mouth, the only words leaving the young man’s salted lips were, “I-In sickness and in health-“Not like that!”

Sebastian’s interruption jolted him, he looked down, embarrassed that he was cut off and shaken by it, “What do you expect me to say then? You gave me absolutely no guidance on what these so-called vows before consummation should be and just told me to say it.”

“I only stated that it’d be similar, not that it must be your wedding vows, Master,” Sebastian hummed, “truly you are a hopeless child.”

“Either way, you didn’t tell me what to say! Now just tell me, I’m sick of these games,” Earl Phantomhive demanded, pulling away his hands and letting go of the butler’s, crossing them instead, “what specifically does she expect me to say?”

“I suppose it would be best you say nothing at all lest you wish to humiliate yourself with this tactless attempt at communication,” he sighed and sat down at the foot of the bed, watching the Earl frown and purse his lips, arms still crossed, “how humiliating it is for you, not even able to say a simple seductive sentence? And now, you are throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler who hasn’t gotten his way, dreadfully immature for a man who will be having his wedding tomorrow.” A silent battle began, with one side’s big blue eye, staring into a pair of mahogany ones. Those unexpectedly dear, deep saturated pools of blood: so dark yet inviting; warm glow masking the fearsome fervour within. But this human was not foolish enough to be hexed by this ineffable beauty’s gaze... Or so he thought.

“Silence, I can’t believe you have the nerve to bedevil me even now,” sighed the Lord, closing his eyes to break eye contact and holding his head with a disturbed anguish. There was an erotic melancholia building in his abdomen, innards knotting and fluttering with mirthful hormonal enthusiasm, yet with the bitter flavour of reality still present, the Earl felt his stomach sinking as he realised how absurdly eager he was for this experience to not come to an end, he pleaded for this simulation to continue casing it behind a fiery tone, feigning impartiality to this oddly pleasurable opportunity, “you are supposed to help me, this is my only chance at practice, let’s keep going.”

Sebastian, who seemed to be finding this awkward exchange humorous, sneeringly said, “I’d help you take off my clothes, but I doubt you’d even be able to do that, sir.”

“I am a nobleman, not a butler,” countered the human, finding argumentative spats like this strangely arousing.     

The servant crossed his legs and merely said, “Most butlers do not dress their Master who is at the age of twenty-two.” Objectively true and frustratingly impossible to argue against so a simple solution arose; the Earl did not bother to argue against it.

“You do realise I am the one with control in this contract, correct? Do not disrespect me,” warned the Earl as he approached the bed, knees brushing against the demon’s bare calf, the blood rushing to his cheeks and painting his face a bright flushed rose, stuck to his moisture-laden forehead were bluish grey strands wet with what he assumed was the result of the hyperhidrosis he was experiencing as his body attempted to cool itself by profusely perspiring, “n-now tell me, what do I do?”

And Sebastian did, standing up and guiding the young man’s hands across the delicate lace and linen dress and with each layer that was peeled behind, the Earl’s body temperature increased more and more, his clammy palms sticking to the silken layer covering the corset, Sebastian seemed bizarrely entertained, “You are too nervous, my Lord.”

“S-Stop calling me that, will you? It’s not my name,” he snapped and then struggled to amend it, “I… I’m Ciel Phantomhive, Lizzy will be calling me by my first name.”

“But I cannot lie,” Sebastian cocked his head to the side, as the dress fell off him at the foot of the bed, “and it goes against a butler’s aesthetics to call my Master by an informal title.”

“Just for tonight, I’ll allow it,” ‘Ciel’ stated, clearing his throat, then noticed the demon was naked, merely covered by undergarments, “Sebastian, this is surely hellish for you.”

“It is,” nodded the butler, “but it’s my duty to teach you what to do. Your inexperience will embarrass you and I can’t have my master being embarrassed, can I?”

“I’m not your master right now, I’m just Ciel,” he said, “now explain what I should do.”

“Alright, ‘Ciel’,” Sebastian mused, taunting him with his clear yet cruel enunciation of every letter in his stolen name, as he fell back into the bed, “undress, she’ll want to see you naked.”

“Usually, you undress me,” humphed self-proclaimed Earl of Phantomhive, ‘Ciel’ as he wished to be called now, as he loomed over his butler’s undressed form laying flirtatiously on the bed.

Sebastian let out a haughty laugh and crossed his arms, “Yes, well, unfortunately for you, I won’t be there to undress you like usual, did you expect me to interrupt the young couple on their first night together simply because the master is unable to unbutton his own shirt? And also,” the demon continued his ruthless verbal assault, as always merciless in their quarrels, “didn’t you just say you’re not my master right now?”

“Enough, I can do it myself,” Ciel spluttered as he shakily took off his blazer, “do I have to take everything off? Surely removing the coat and pants will be enough. Seeing my bare chest won’t be necessary for coition!”

“Do you expect the lady to be undressed while you’re still wearing a button-up?” questioned Sebastian, brows moving to match his sceptical tone, “I didn’t think your carnal desires involved clothed sex, though I suppose every human has their ‘fetishes’ so to say.”

“I-I have no such thing, it’s the mark on my back that concerns me- “It won’t be an issue, my Lord,” Sebastian cut him off, “we can cover it with makeup for the wedding night.”

“That’d work, you think?” He asked sceptically.

Sebastian assured him with his usual utmost certainty, “Of course, my Lord, I’d already thought ahead and prepared the finest quality makeup to cover that scar with. It will be as though your skin is without a single blemish.”

“That is quite an awful quality for a man,” Ciel lamented as he took off his coat and shakily unbuttoned his shirt, “I already appear so effeminate that Elizabeth believes she needs to protect me. Flawless skin will only strengthen this absurd image of me in her mind.”

“You are physically weak, are you not?” The demon rhetorically mentioned, snarky smile dancing on his lips, “No matter, you may not be strong but that’s why you have me, to protect you…” Ciel frowned as the devil continued, arms open as if welcoming him into his protective embrace, “As I am, one hell of a butler.”

“It’s disgusting hearing you say that after dancing with me in my betrothed’s wedding dress and now naked on my bed wearing nothing but a painted face, clown’s makeup honestly, you needed not go so far as to decorate your face like this. A butler? Hah, don’t make me laugh. Really, you’re anything but,” he retorted, sardonic tone seeping through his words, frustrated at hearing the demon’s irony-infused, infamous catchphrase, as if he had deluded himself he was bedding a human and the reminder that this was in fact a devil had irked him.

Sebastian’s arms dropped, cancelling his offer for an embrace. Instead, in that long forlorn stern tutor’s voice of his, he said, “Take your pants off already, you cannot keep Lady Midford waiting all the night the way you are doing now.”

There was no fanfare when it came to Ciel taking his pants off, Sebastian had seen the young noble’s genitals millions of times, but this was the first time he’d viewed him panting weakly as he held onto his shaft with a shuddering hand, half-erect with the tip slobbering precum, blue and green veins pulsing under a thin, semi-transparent layer of skin.

“At least the size isn’t bad, she’ll most definitely see you as a man this way,” Sebastian attempted to give some sort of lip service and mend the blotted atmosphere, but it was obvious from his human’s cryptic expression that he was not interested in hearing it, instead he sighed, “I’ll show you what to do next.”

⛧

There was a soothing sense of peace in the extreme gaucherie of the moment. The human crawling and letting his weight push down the mattress, teetering closer to the demon’s form, laying on the bed, “You must remove her undergarments, let me show you- “I can do that myself.” The Earl fumbled with the open drawers⁽³⁾ and suddenly noticed that between the demon’s legs, there was no fabric. Horrified, he loudly said, “What is that?!”

“A vagina,” Sebastian deadpanned, “surely it’s not the most dreadful thing you’ve ever seen. I modelled it specifically to look decent.” And like everything about the devil faultless and overwhelmingly perfect, the demon’s faux genitalia had been moulded to be beautiful, a captivating carnation pink with twinkling secretion dribbling from the vaginal opening all the way to the labia majora, reaching the perinium. Ciel didn’t dare look at his butler’s anus, but he was sure it would be perfect too.

“What do I do with this? Just stick it in?”

“Do you want to torture her?” scoffed Sebastian as he sat up, shuffling to take off the garment and fully undress himself, “It’s best you be gentle. Even if she had many years of training in fielding and sword-fighting, her hymen may not have worn away and there is a risk of bleeding, you mustn’t be hasty.”

“B-Bleeding? Hymen? Is it that thing you’re supposed to break?” Ciel asked, blissfully ignorant of anatomy, Sebastian shook his head.

“Nothing has to ‘break’, let me show you,” Sebastian, without any hesitation, spread his legs apart, holding the labia aside as he pointed to the vaginal opening, using his other hand to gesture to the thin tissue that surrounded the opening, pearly with spittle, “this membrane is the hymen, understood?”

“Does it hurt her if I touch it?”

“Do you want to touch it? You can,” he permitted touch from Ciel, but the boy was cautious, barely brushing his finger against it and quickly pulling away.

“It feels weird,” he said, dumbfounded.

“You sound so innocent,” Sebastian found himself fond of the boy’s subtle fascination and his futile attempts at hiding his desire as he became more erect, “come now, you’re meant to be a virile young man. Don’t be afraid of touching, your future wife won’t mind.”

And so, he did, he poked around, brushing up and down with his fingers, eliciting shivers and laboured breathing from Sebastian who had yet to experience anything like this in his long life as a demon. Other humans had expected vaginal sex from him but never had he been used as an anatomical model for a human who had even barely matured to play with and explore. This nosey brat, he thought to himself as he tenderly watched him, allowing himself to be touched, he’s having fun. And that childlike gleam in his eye was enough to prove that the Earl was in fact, having fun, enjoying the unique sensation of touching this untouchable demon so freely, finding the paradoxical moment perplexing, sticking his fingers into every dip of this fake yet vivacious vulva that pulsated slightly, and gliding his fingers across the glands. After a while, he stopped touching and asked, “Do you feel anything from this? Is it enjoyable?”

“It’s strange, my body hadn’t created this exact composition before, usually I do not waste energy on creating a hymen or accurate anatomy in general, but I have made the internal organs as accurate as possible,” he explained then clarified, “this is only necessary because I’m doing this to give you a lesson. Otherwise, this does not pleasure me.”

“I understand,” hummed the young man, whose intrigue made him appear much younger than he was, tapping onto a little button-like appendage, pulling a gasp out of the demon, Ciel immediately panicked, “am I not supposed to touch that? Did it hurt?”

“I do feel pain, but you’d have to do a lot more than that to hurt me,” the demon shuddered as he felt the prodding continue, “the part you are touching is a clitoris. It is meant to stimulate and give pleasure.”

“Is that its sole purpose?” He asked as he moved his fingers around, a coy hand movement, too prudent to push anything in, fingers damp by the Newtonian fluid clinging to his fingertips, “And why is it wet?”

“The Skene and Bartholin glands are secreting a mucoid substance that will lubricate the vaginal opening,” it was a quiet conversation, soft and scientific, yet exciting; a painful, excruciatingly slow foreplay.

“I read about one of those, think it was the Bartholomew one,” mentioned Ciel, “but not the other one.”

“Bartholin, not Bartholomew,” huffed the demon, “you endlessly disappoint during these lessons, young master.” An infantilising title he’d stopped using once the Earl demanded he no longer call him that at the age of seventeen, quite the noisy outburst that humiliated them both in front of the other servants.

Ciel sulkily moved his hands off, hovering over Sebastian’s form, “Does it even matter? You think Elizabeth wants an anatomy lesson? Not that I could give her one, those books didn’t even mention half the things you’re saying. And it’s not young master, don’t be impudent.”

“That’s likely due to the fact the Skene’s glands were only discovered when you were a child while the Bartholin glands were known of since the 17^th century, those books were outdated,” Sebastian said, putting his hand on the human’s shoulder to pull him closer—it’s possible he did it absent-mindedly or perhaps it was intentional—either way, the human’s already rather unstable heart rate picked up as Sebastian whispered, the devil’s chilled breath hitting his ear, “that’s why they were useless and I had to teach you about these sinful pleasures myself.”

“Well then keep teaching me,” he replied breathily, “I’m reaching my limit, I don’t look it, scrawny as I am, but I am a man, she wouldn’t dawdle like this and frustrate me.”

“I’m not trying to tease you,” the usually insolent demon muttered, an uncommon coyness taking over him as he explained himself, “this preparation is for your wedding night, I would teach you other things but considering the time limit, this is enough. You may do as you please, use your fingers first, I’ll guide you.”

There were no words exchanged now with the human, innocent as a lamb (although this is only true when it comes to carnal matters), pressed a single finger past the thin membrane, making sure his nail didn’t brush past anything, curling it up, down and all around, indefatigably attempting to understand the mysterious organ in front of him. Sebastian found himself smiling at the baffled expression his contractor was making, He’s awfully thorough. But the Earl was not trying to be thoughtful or considerate, rather the opposite, he was tirelessly trying to get a reaction out of this impertinent devil who seemed to be presenting a simple, composed smile to him, unaffected. He gritted his teeth and pressed a second finger inside, wiggling it around, a little careless this time.

“Are you quite done playing around? We do not have all night.”

Irritated, Ciel held onto his shaft and pressed it against the opening, “Do I enter slowly?” The demon shrugged a shoulder, indicating it did not particularly matter, so Ciel opted to take his time, he’d waited this long, so he’d prefer to savour this moment. But then he felt it. An odd pulsing sensation coming from the entrance. He froze in spot.

“What’s the problem now?” asked Sebastian, exasperated now, “Your bride will lose her patience at this rate.”

“A-Answer me this, demon, are you afraid? Why are you shaking? Surely this will not hurt that badly,” asked Ciel whose slavering tip was softly brushing against the vaginal opening, the labia minora brushing against his foreskin, the ever-present pulsing sensation could be felt through it, “What’s going on? Is it meant to do that?”

“Feel free to ignore it, Ciel,” Sebastian dropped the name, a quick lie to dissuade the human from asking further, he’d much rather not reveal the real reason this was occurring. He was aroused, a rare happening. No rather, a jamais-vu of sorts and Sebastian could only blame it on the celibacy he’d experienced for multiple years now. He continued to busy the Earl by using the hand on his shoulder to coax him inside, practically squeezing his dark nails in, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t bite, stop wasting your time.”

“Answer me honestly,” he rebuked the attempt at distraction, “you’re not allowed to lie.”

“I didn’t lie, and I implore you not to question me further,” a harsh slap to his face and he frowned, cheek reddened and not just due to the obscene amount of blush he’d used when applying his makeup, “very well, I’ll tell you… This is simply a result of excitement; your wife may have a similar reaction so you-”

“I see, so you relish in such perversion?” grinned the Earl sadistically, pushing in carelessly, a squelch immediately following the thrust, “Dear God.” He was overwhelmed by the feeling of entering the hole at last. However he wanted to remain composed but unfortunately, he was also too riled up to be able to control his movements, hips subconsciously wavering as they were manipulated by the uncontrollable urge to thrust further into the warm sleeve gripping onto his erection, veins aflutter as the blood rushed from his head downwards.

“Y-You choose the moment I am speaking to finally do this?” scolded Sebastian, the shock and minor tearing pulling complaint out of him, “And this is no way to treat the lady, I am bleeding, and you are not even moving.”

“F-Firstly I cannot move and also,” Ciel paused, evaluating his word choice but far too light-headed from the sudden loss of blood from all places, including his brain to his cock, to think properly, he was dazed, and his speech reflected it, he drawled, “you saying you were all eager must’ve stirred me up, you brought it upon yourself.”

“How sadistic! Remember, you must be kind to—Ah!—h-her,” Sebastian struggled to get the words out as he felt the intrusion inside of him harden and attempt to move, a sharp pain suddenly arising, noir nails pressing into the shoulder he was holding as a drop of blood dripped from his perinium to the sheets, “she won’t be able to handle it if you’re so rough.”

“Should you really be saying that to me while you embrace her to-be husband? This would be considered adultery by her,” he said, intoxicated enough by the experience that he’d cancel the wedding if it meant he could spend just another second inside this heat that beat around his length, blood staining the sheets as he heaved in and out of heaven (or perhaps hell?). It was unnerving, a part of him knew one thing. He could get addicted to this.

Talking had ceased, Ciel was just whimpering boyishly as he finally lost himself in pleasure. Even at twenty-two, he was a delicate, weak human, Sebastian noted as he saw this little man barely holding himself up as he thrusted his erection in and out of the bloodied hole.

“You are terrible at this,” Sebastian said then opted to present Ciel with a little challenge and pulled at the strings of his eyepatch, “try to stop me.”

“Stop you from doing what?” Sebastian tugged at the eyepatch again and Ciel understood what he meant while simultaneously not understanding at all, “Why? It’s just us in the room, you can take it off.” A conflicted feeling arose, parts of him became uncharacteristically giddy at the thought of Sebastian wanting to see their contract mark as they became one in the sexual sense.

“If she loses herself in the moment, she may try to pull it off,” he explained, ruining any illusion of romance, sucking the action dry of intrigue as he stated again, “now stop me. I am pulling it off, what would you do if she did this?” Another tug. “Come now, ‘Ciel’, you should not allow this,” he chimed cruelly.

Ciel may have wanted to stop him or to respond to this blatant mockery he was faced with, but he simply couldn’t, not as he was desperately rutting into the hole, “Forget it, I’ll stop it if it’s her, right now it’s you.”

“I thought you’d be imagining your wife,” Sebastian lips curled up again, he found the upper hand in another of their meaningless rows.

“You seek argument with me even while I am doing this to you?”

Head cocked to the side, Sebastian preened, his ostentatious wedding makeup becoming more visible to Ciel’s eye, Sebastian looked at his own reflection and marvelled at it before he focused on the other eye, still covered by the thin fabric of the patch, “What better time than this?” And with a gentle pull of the strings, the eyepatch was undone, falling onto the demon’s bare chest. Annoyed, Ciel pushed the eyepatch aside. Strangely he did not like that it covered even a small patch of the demon’s glossy skin and Sebastian looked as though he wanted to laugh, fisted hand brushing his lips that were holding back a cackle, “So petulant, you are twenty-two, my Lord, not eighty-two.”

“S-Shut up, I can’t continue if you keep talking,” complained the Earl, whose thrusts had become shallow as he assumed it would be painful to go into the torn entrance with as much force as earlier. This was supposed to be practice and a childish part of him was hoping to hear praises from the teacher for his impeccable self-control, even while vexed by a particularly taxing devil. “Just let me continue and don’t talk, it’s distracting like this.”

“Oh? You can’t continue if I talk?” Sebastian—as always, defying what was expected from him—was now cupping the boy’s face in his bare hands, strangely soft, as if he hadn’t worked a day in his life. A butler shouldn’t have hands like that, nor a smile like that, so perfect, not a crooked tooth or wrinkle in sight, it was uncanny in a way and not that he’d ever admit it, but Ciel is frightened of it when not this aroused. After a moment of intense mutual staring, Sebastian thought of a comeback to Ciel’s previous complaint and spoke softly, caressing the rosy cheek of the human oozing precum inside of him, “I would believe you couldn’t continue as a result of me speaking out of turn if you indicated that this was truly the case but from what I’m seeing... it seems more to me that you can’t stop.”

The final blow, Ciel couldn’t take it and with a tiny grunt, he released inside his contractee, lashes sticking together with sweat that had dripped unto them, sliding down his pasty forehead. For a moment, there was no sound at all and the boy wanted to slump but held himself up—just barely however—mainly because he wanted to stare dumbfounded at the demon’s glamourous face-do. He accepted that this is his favourite face in the world a long time ago but remembering that fact always pulled a little ‘ugh’ out of him. Not today however, all he could say was, “I finished.” He felt like a Weston College student, waiting for Prof. Michaelis’ response to his exam results.

“That was no good, Master,” a pull to his cheek brought him out of these oddly sentimental fantasies and stupidly sappy thoughts, “you only cared for your own pleasure. That is no way to please a lady. Why, even if you had pleased me I would’ve demanded more but you couldn’t even do it once so I should surely give you more practice.”

“More practice? I can’t get it back up,” the boy squeaked, horrified at the thought of his swollen, bloodied tip becoming hard again, still buried in the heat holding onto it.

“My my, you are no longer a maiden,” the demon joked about Ciel’s lost purity with a laugh, “I’m sure you have more in you. Take a break and we’ll rinse and repeat...” Or rather, I’m not too fond of rinsing you out of me, Sebastian thought. A bizarre occurrence, perhaps the crave for this soul had made him mentally unwilling to clean himself, opting to leave the seed there, absorbing it hungrily. He took a glance at the boy who mumbled something incoherent and headed to the bathroom, most likely to wash off the blood on his penis. Sebastian watched him slam the door as if he was a teenager, what a brat.

⛧

Once in the bathroom, Ciel wanted to groan, yell, break something and forget this all ever happened. A million thoughts were rushing through his blood-deficient brain. He considered the fact that Elizabeth would surely wring his neck if she found out this had happened between him and Sebastian, multiples times at that, then he entertained the thought that it might be fine if it feels as pleasant as it did before… Then burrowed his face in his hands as he imagined the possibility of possibly doing what he just did with Sebastian with her. His cousin would not mock him with unsolicited remarks, would not perplex him with vague instructions, she would draw blood from his shoulders as her peachy nails, chipped from fencing practice dug into his skin. She’d sit opposite him the morning after, natural blush staining her plump cheeks, rather than stand straight beside his chair, slender face apathetic, a waxen figurine of a man, as if sculpted by Tussaud herself. She would cling onto his arms as they walked down the street rather than stroll, back-straight a metre behind him. Why did that frustrate him so much? He had bought himself this life of being a husband for Elizabeth by taking over his brother’s life. An impending sense of guilt washed over him, he had lied to her and would wed her, consummate a marriage built on lies, procreate with her—

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Sebastian’s voice, sounding far away, as if he was still on the bed, “Lord? Is something the matter?”

Twisting the doorknob, he was determined to make this second round count but before he could even say anything, he froze, flabbergasted at the sight in front of him, beautiful legs spread apart; Sebastian tilted his head to the side. Ciel struggled to speak, “W-What’s that position?”

“Come over here,” the demon commanded instead and mesmerised, the boy did, feet moving without his own brain’s input. He crawled onto the bed, Sebastian reached his hand over and squeezed his cock, “It’s not hard yet?” Filthy words spoken so nonchalantly as if they were nothing at all, Ciel felt himself become aroused again, evident from the devil’s raised eyebrow.

“I’m trying,” that was all he could muster out and then moaned as he felt Sebastian’s hand jerking him off aggressively.

Pressing those jet-black nails into the erect organ, nearly penetrating the skin, and tearing the stretched vein membranes that were pulsing full of blood as the young man became more and more excited at the sight in front of him. The sanguine sheets dirtied by yet another substance as the semen (a rosy, light pink, likely due to mixing with blood) rolled down past Sebastian’s fluttering anus and onto the already messy sheets. Without any words, Sebastian coaxed the tip inside, a little hum escaping him as Ciel asked, “Will she not mind if I move at this point?” Sebastian did not bother answering, knowing the human would do as he pleased anyway.

And so, he did. The dirty squelches of his thrusts so loud they reverberated in the opulent bedroom, Ciel feared they could be heard in the whole manor which is why he wasn’t loudly and freely grunting between thrusts, despite desperately wanting to. Just the thought of the servants hearing these noises and coming up to investigate mortified him internally. “Don’t worry, Master,” whispered Sebastian, “they cannot hear you even if you moan and cry like a lady on her first night. Be as loud as you please—”

“Shut up,” he gritted his teeth, moving his hands to grab onto Sebastian’s lean frame, thin waist in his hold. His eyes drifted onto the abdomen that he recalled being pierced through on the Campania during that dreadful trip. Unconsciously, he caressed it, pang of fear in his chest as he thought of the possibility of such a thing happening again.

“What are you doing?” Confused, Sebastian witnessed the young man’s soft touches and unadjusted to such delicate care, he decided to make a lesson out of it, grabbing his master’s left hand off his waist and pulling it up to his chest, placing the hand on his nipple, “Touch here if you wish to please her.”

Unusually obedient, Ciel listened, brushing his thumb over the nubs of the pinkish nipples in front of him, impressed by how affectively it seemed to be impacting Sebastian’s reactions. Hushed moans escaping the demon, Ciel focused on one nipple, pulling and tugging on it, still gentle however, as if he was concerned it would fall off if he was too rough: a child in fear of breaking his favourite toy. He squeezed the demon’s supple waist with his unoccupied right hand, “Do you like this so much? Such indecent noises, I hadn’t heard this from you, assumed you could not be like this.” In hindsight, he also hadn’t expected to see the devil weakened by a death scythe blow years ago, perhaps Sebastian had always been full of surprises. Whenever Ciel learns something new about this creature, he realises he knew absolutely nothing before.

“Down,” he moved Ciel’s unoccupied hand off his reddened waist and onto the clitoris he had so painstakingly explained, “touch it. You should please her this way, women are usually appeased sexually after being touched here.” Rather than responding, Ciel decided to play around, squeezing and rubbing the wet clitoris, rolling it between his fingers. Sebastian’s mouth was open, as if in awe of what he was experiencing, eyes turned red, canines visibly turning sharper and more fang-like. Surely there is something wrong with me to find this creature appealing, the human thought as his thrusts got faster and rougher, pleasured moans leaving his lips, whispers of ‘God’ blasphemously between each grunt, how is this what excites me but not a beautiful woman like Elizabeth?

As he moved in and out of the cold hole that clung unto his scrotum like a lifeline, he weakly brought his hand up from the swollen nipple to the demon’s face who’d lost all composure, open-mouthed with his fangs dripping with spit and slobber, “Y-You didn’t say it’d be this pleasurable for you as well,” he pressed on Sebastian’s canines with his thumb, suddenly feeling the demon’s sharp bottom-set canine piercing his thumb, he groaned, “you mutt, you made me bleed.” But before he could pull his finger away, the demon closed his mouth, suckling on the globs of blood that Ciel could feel leaving his finger, a pleasing sensation, sweet pain rushing through his thumb-tip. He was delirious, sucked into the demon from multiple orifices. Is this how his brother felt when this devil took his soul? This sweet death, strangely he forgot about his ambitious desires for a second and imagined this was his final night and thought he’d be rather pleased if he died in this moment.

Eventually, the mouth latched on his thumb opened, a final lick setting him free, “I apologise for my unseemly behaviour.”

“You must be starving,” said Ciel, tone mocking, as he smudged his bloodied finger on the sheets to dry it off, leaving a trail of red fingerprints, “I almost feel sorry for you.” Adding in the ‘almost’ for good measure, just in case the demon misconstrued what he’d said and would counter his offensive words by saying something along the lines of ‘a human like you pitying me is ironic’ or another imaginative comeback. Sadly, the Earl was not very good at imagining his butler’s plethora of witty responses.

The long black nails of the demon pressed into his shoulders, “I am happy you do not pity me, I’ll get your soul in the end, that’s payment enough, my Lord.”

“What did I tell you to call me during this activity?” asked ‘Ciel’, bringing his face closer to the devil’s.

“You’re not ‘Ciel Phantomhive’ to me, only to her,” Sebastian seemed like he wanted to say more but was interrupted by the black tendrils shooting out of the artificial vaginal entrance he’d created, “oh dear.”

“What’s happening?” panicked the young man, wanting to pull out but too lost in pleasure to do so, even if it was at the cost of losing his phallus.

“The illusion is fading, I cannot keep this up,” he explained, “creating these body parts took a lot out of me, I’m starving, my true form is revealing itself.”

“Can you keep it up a little longer? I’m almost there.”

“Yes, but I doubt this is realistic, surely your wife will not suffer this same issue on your wedding bed,” an attempt at a joke, but so weakly said that it only caused the Earl to genuinely pity his demon, a feeling he’d only developed for this creature after the events on the Campania.

He tried to joke back, “At least I’ll be prepared if it does happen,” then added, “not that I’d want to be prepared for tomorrow. If there’s an excuse to get out of doing this with her, I’ll take it.”

“But this activity is pleasurable for you, is it not?” asked the demon genuinely, as he felt the boy’s hand on his clitoris still and his thrusts slow, “Why do you speak as though you do not want it from a beautiful young woman like Lady Elizabeth? She is a brilliant candidate for a wife, many noblemen desire her.”

“Because I’m not Ciel,” he said, “she wants her first to be my brother. And he is dead. Thanks to you, no less.” A clench around his cock pulled a deep grunt out of him and coloured his cheeks a bright red, “Y-You did that on purpose.”

“Did what exactly?” asked the demon with false innocence, knowing that tightening around the human’s length would make any anger dissipate, turning ‘Ciel Phantomhive’ into a bashful, stuttering mess.

“You know what you did,” Ciel said, regaining his passion to destroy the devil’s composure, thrusts violently restarting and pruned finger gaining momentum as it wiggled the pretty nub above the hole which stretched around him, shadowy tentacles retreating back inside.

Again, Ciel touched the devil’s face with his free hand, blood still dripping from his thumb, the demon lapped it up and Ciel thought to himself that even the prettiest Royal Vienna Art Nouveau pieces, whether figurine or portraits or vases or urns, could not compare to this face. Sebastian seemed as though he wanted to ask something, but clearly couldn’t as his speech would be interrupted by the uncontrollable ‘uh’s and ‘oh!’s that the human was pulling out of him with each upwards thrust towards the delicate fleshy spot inside him, combined with the inexperienced, rough finger work on his clitoris. He finally mustered out, “W-Why keep touching my face? Do you plan on examining your future wife’s visage like this too? She’ll find it unsettling.”

“It irks me,” Ciel muttered, “why must you have this face of all faces?” He did not add his internal monologue saying, I like it too much.

Sebastian whose lips were now not only stained with lipstick but with this man’s blood too, shrugged, “It is my face.” And there came a sarcastic follow-up as always, “If you wished me to have a different one, I could change it but it’s slightly too late for that now.”

They continued without speaking, an almost silence apart from the apparent moaning and their genitals’ moist meetings creating wet smacks and they squished together, although their back-and-forth dialogue ceased. Sebastian felt a tension building that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, moving his hand along the human’s shoulder to his neck, feeling the protruding neck vein of this unexpectedly cherished human, an intimate stroke to the red ears of this manchild. Every second he became more of a ‘man’ and less of a ‘child’. Time went by fast for demons but for Sebastian, time had slowed to a snail’s pace since making this contract. He was so close to cumming, the pleasure being a death of sorts as he felt his life in this manor as a butler flash before his eyes as he let go of his inhibitions and loudly yelped as the harmonious twitching of his hips towards the thrusting girth to unite them brought him to the edge and… Suddenly, Ciel stopped moving, ejaculating on the spot.

Frustrated but not showing it, Sebastian tried to excite him again, squeezing down around him to no avail, the flaccid penis inside him simply spitting out a little more fluid. Sebastian opted to flick his master’s ear piercing with the hand placed under Ciel’s jaw, “Why, that was dreadful, you definitely need more practice.”

“Not a chance I’ll believe that after you were so loud, I reckon you just want another round, you perverted wretch,” he scoffed, then noticed Sebastian’s deflated expression, disappointment clear. Defeated, the boy let a pout develop on his lips, “Don’t look at me like that, Sebastian. Was I that bad?”

“Unfortunately,” Sebastian nodded, comically solemn, “I fear you may not be able to bring the lady to climax this way.”

“Does that have to happen?”

“Do not be selfish, my Lord,” tutted Sebastian, “what kind of Earl would fail at pleasing his wife? Why, Mr Tanaka told me your father- “Don’t you dare tell me!” exclaimed Ciel, interrupting him with a finger to his lips, “Silence. For goodness’ sake!” Ciel pulled out and sat on the bed, legs crossed, “What kind of butler tells his master about the previous head of the house’s bedroom affairs?”

“I thought I was not your butler right now, ‘Ciel’- “Oh for crying out loud! Must you be such a conniving little-? Ugh!” The frustrated young man was yelling, cursing under his breath now, complaining about all the other times Sebastian had purposefully aggravated him thus far. Name-dropping was a good strategy, Sebastian thought to himself, as he took in the disgruntled youth in front of him, messy hair poking around in the air in every direction.

“Don’t be such a harridan, nagging me like an old woman, no young lady finds that a particularly attractive quality in a man like yourself,” he reached over and smoothed it out, “you have a noble title and a fine face, don’t ruin yourself by being such a troglodyte, become someone social adept, like your father. You too are a leader of men, after all.” The domesticity of the situation was not lost on either of them as the head-patting continued and Ciel looked down, chagrined face changing to one of utter sheepish joy, the frown on his lips threatening to turn into a smile.

“So, I need to try again, to please y-,” he froze and then corrected himself, “to please her.” Looking up with his big, mismatched eyes, tugging at the demon’s non-existent heartstrings, he stated, “But the problem is I don’t think I can do it again.” He fidgeted with his hands, “Do something.”

⛧

After a couple minutes of stroking the flaccid cock, Sebastian stopped and sighed hopelessly, “This won’t yield any result.”

Ciel just let out sharp breaths with every gentle touch to his tip, “Is there no other way?” Sebastian hummed, Ciel brought his face closer, “Any ideas?”

“Allow me to try something.”

All of a sudden, those sablé black tentacles emerged from the vaginal entrance again, one of which flew right past the nobleman’s head, heading past the door, barrelling down the stairs quickly and into the kitchen. Once the tentacle returned, it was clasped around a bottle of olive oil like a rope. Disturbed, Ciel asked, “Did you get that from the kitchen? What if one of the servants was awake at this hour and saw that?”

“Knowing those fools, they’d think they imagined it,” Sebastian nonchalantly popped the olive oil bottle open, so elegantly one would think there’s champagne in the bottle. A mischievous beam was on his face and Ciel confusedly looked at the bottle.

“Extra virgin olive oil, huh?” He was on his knees to be able to see the bottle’s label, “what’s so funny about that? Why are you leering at me with such a lecherous look? Stop that at once, it’s rather unnerving.”

“My Lord,” Sebastian purred, “please don’t be so tense, you need practice and I have an inkling this is the correct way to go about exciting you again.” Soon, Ciel realised the tentacles were going into the bottle, careful not to drip any oil on the already dirty bloodied bedsheets. A sheen of glossiness coated them now, oil threatening to drip everywhere.

“What now? Why are you making a mess of yourself- “Excuse me,” Sebastian was sneering now as a tentacle shot between the Earl’s thighs and poked at his anus, “do relax, it mustn’t hurt too much.”

“W-What in the blazes are you doing?!” He yelped as another tentacle joined the struggle, long thin lines spreading his buttocks apart and prodding at the tensed anus, “That hurts!”

“My, you’re such a liar, I haven’t even breached you yet,” Sebastian’s face was one of delight, as he finally pushed a tentacle inside his little Lord, “there we go! Wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Immediately, he wiggled it inside to find the prostate and pressed on it with taps that consecutively came every few seconds, making sure he didn’t cause any discomfort or micro-tearage. “Are you hurting?” A tear rolled down Ciel’s face, humiliated, barely holding himself up, Sebastian’s black nails had grown in length as his fangs had returned, a demonic appearance that was petrifyingly beautiful. He pushed the human down, wiping his tears, lower lash line nearly brushed by the nails that could blind him at any moment, contract mark twinkling, “Do not cry, you’re an adult now, crying won’t do at all,” he hushed, “no, it won’t do at all.”

“Y-You could’ve been more gentle!” exclaimed Ciel, a deep-seated trauma in his soul revitalised by this moment yet the husk of Sebastian’s voice had managed to keep him grounded, although his rage was still prevalent, “Something like this! How dare you do it to me?”

More soothing whispers, the demon petted his cheeks, sticky with quick-drying tears, his face was hot with an unprecedented reoccurring arousal, “My apologies, hush now, do not cry, what sort of man cries on his wedding night in such a disgraceful manner?” An idea, slightly diabolic, wormed its way into Sebastian’s mind, “I will be more gentle if you can pass a quiz of sorts.”

“A quiz?” He choked out as a third tentacle curled inside him, a pleasant burning inside of him, “Are you joking?!”

“Of course not. First, what do we call olives in German?”

“What the blazes are you saying- “Come now, sir, you've missed too many language lessons since the wedding preparations began,” Sebastian was in his brutal tutor mode, the orgasm stripped of him by Ciel’s inability to control his ejaculation timing had him bothered, he opted to push Ciel’s buttons until he was hard again, poking the prostate again. “Answer me, hurry now.”

“Isn’t it just the same damn thing in English and German?” yelled Ciel with frustration, grabbing Sebastian’s shoulders as the demon nodded, indicating his answer was correct, “Oh you’re just awful, aren’t you?”

“Ignoring that remark of yours, I’ll ask the next question, what is this called in French?” The demon pointed to the vagina he’d created.

“What is what called?” Ciel asked, baffled as his tip started squirting out a clear fluid, “G-God, what’s this?!”

“God cannot answer for you, I’m afraid,” Sebastian sadistically said, gleefully milking the boy’s abused prostate, “did you forget now? You already turned your back on God, all you have left is me. Now answer the question.”

Clinging onto Sebastian’s forearm, digging his nails in, Ciel sobbed out a moan, as his cock, with much pain, stiffened, spurting the milky fluid consistently, “I don’t know anything, just make it stop!”

“How disappointing,” Sebastian freed his hands from the boy, laying him down on the bed, using a tentacle to force a pillow under the boy’s head, as always considerate of his comfort, “it’s called a ‘vagin’, practically the same as English… Truly, you’re hopeless.”

“Stop asking me trick questions then-” Ciel wanted to say more but was in awe of the lean yet toned figure of the butler that was above him, face perfect even from such an angle.

Sebastian was straddling him now, one of the myriad of cryptic tentacles shooting its roots out of the leaking vagin, wrapping around the base of his cock, a makeshift cock ring (although much more hygienic than the ones found in ancient Greece or Rome) while the other tentacles pulled out of the anal canal, appeased at the swollen state they’d left the boy’s pulsating prostate in. “Finally,” he hummed, “you are erect again, should I say I’m proud of you in order to encourage this behaviour? Longevity is important in the bedroom; your lady will value it.”

“As if your words mean a thing to me,” Ciel’s hips inadvertently jumped up, aiming to get inside the inexplicable hole again, even with the black tendrils peaking out, creating a flower-like shape, an Acheronian sight. “And did I not tell you to stop speaking of my lady?”

A Delphic expression on the devil’s face before he slammed his hips down onto the boy’s erection, revelling in the loud groan, Sebastian taunted him, a finger trailing the boy’s Adam apple to his chin and then his spit-covered lips, “You criticise me for your own adulterous desires, are you not enjoying our lesson too much?” Sebastian knew he had created this classroom of pleasure himself but continued to mock, “Such weakness, you are unfaithful enough to desire a demon above the woman you shall marry, shame on you, Lord Phantomhive.”

Ciel tried to compose himself and think of a way to respond to this disrespect, so he just weakly raised his hand and smacked the demon’s butt, “Shut up.” What he didn’t expect was a moan and a squeeze to his shoulders, he looked at Sebastian’s face, eyes alight with a human anticipation that he’d never seen before. He brought his other hand up as he remembered the reactions he’d managed to garner from touching the little nub that was now nestled behind a pair of oily tentacles. Pushing them aside, he palmed the clitoris again and rejoiced internally as the moaning intensified.

“Y-You’re quite decent at it now,” Sebastian shuddered, clearly not used to having his pleasure at the forefront of sex, this may be the first time he genuinely felt pleasure while having a vagina. He did not particularly like this loss of control however, so he clamped around his master’s cock, and sent one of the thick tentacles inside of the Earl again to play with his already tortured prostate, causing Ciel to suddenly jolt and sit up, while still inside Sebastian. This movement combined with the shock of the moment pushing Sebastian down on the human’s lap as well as a reflexive thrust sent Ciel’s tip straight to the contrived cervix he had made inside himself, eliciting a shrill outcry as a bizarre combination between pain and pleasure creeped up the demon’s spine culminating into an orgasm, a release of sorts as cervical fluid coated the young man’s dick, “My Lord! Do you even realise what you are doing?” Practically shrieking now, he continued the loud onslaught of scolding, “You are awful, this may be my worse experience with a human I have ever had!”

“W-What did I do this time?!” wailed the panicked boy, pleasure making him so delirious that he could not even complain about the butler shouting at him despite his position, “Did I make a mistake again?”

“D-Dare not do that to a real woman on her first night,” lest you want her to pass out, Sebastian shifted up, until only the tip remained inside him, “I must say, I’ve had quite enough of you for tonight, let us stop so you can recharge for tomorrow night- “What?” Ciel pushed him down, Sebastian looked at him wide-eyed as the sweaty, dark-haired boy entered him again, “You gave me such a hard time, going as far as to… s-stick that disgusting thing inside me! And now you expect to leave me hanging? I won’t allow it.”

“How assertive, the Miss will certainly appreciate it, though you really must work on your speech—Oh!” Sebastian constantly felt himself being surprised by this little human, whose hands worked tirelessly on the soft clitoral tissue attached to the artificial organ he had perfected to simulate his master’s first night with his soon-to-be wife, Elizabeth. His determination to bring the demon to pleasure was childish, desperation to the extent that he sought after Sebastian’s reaction like a dog suffering of thirst, dehydrated so badly he’d do anything for it. But why did he want this reaction so badly? Or rather, Am I imagining it? Is he just practising because he is so afraid of disappointing her? Has he seen this as a lesson? But that resolve in his eyes was anything but that of a student.

It was not the subject he wanted to know but the teacher. He desired to know what made the teacher emit noises of pleasure, how to make him louder, when to touch and where exactly the touch would be most appreciated. Would this speed be appropriate? Could he press in deeper? Should he?

“Am I doing well?” He asked between his experiments of figuring out what angle of thrust led to Sebastian throwing his head back and knotting his eyebrows, those deep, guttural moans mellifluously flowing into the boy’s blushed ears.

Sebastian, indulging in the pleasure, weakened the tentacles’ grip on Ciel’s cock and allowed his legs to rest around the young man’s hips, leg muscles tensing with every tiny movement inside him, “You do not have to try so hard for me,” an apathy was in his voice, “You said it yourself earlier, I am not Miss Elizabeth, am I?” Ciel didn’t say anything (rather, he had nothing to say), so Sebastian continued, “And she is who you’ll marry tomorrow. There’s no telling how she will prefer it. You mustn’t tire yourself out with me.”

“She won’t like the same things you do?” He paused the thrusting despite wanting to shove himself in and out of the bloomed bud before him.

“Indeed, individuals work that way, my Lord,” he pertly replied, another of those sassy smiles on his lips, sharp features frustratingly more stunning whenever he got mouthy.

“Stop smirking at me, will you? And don’t give me cheek,” Ciel lightly slapped Sebastian’s cheek as he enunciated the word.

“Don’t think you can do that to your wife too, you cheeky cur,” Sebastian retorted, “it will cause the deterioration of your marriage.”

“She’s not as impolite as you, is she?” That’s why she bores me so. Ciel didn’t bother saying how he really felt about his cousin but didn’t fail to notice the sourness of Sebastian’s expression whenever he seemed fond of her, “That’s why I won’t have this problem with her.”

“Oh really? You won’t? I see…” The excitement seemed to have died down, and those long pale legs that had been wrapped around Ciel’s waist loosened, the tentacle around his cock releasing him too, “You must stop now. It is late and you need to rest before tomorrow.”

“No,” he grabbed both legs of the sylphic frame on either side of him with the respective hand, “do whatever you were doing with the tentacle earlier that wasn’t letting me release. I am not done yet.”

“If you want to finish then I can- “I do not want to finish like this, it is humiliating to have just sobbed on top of you like a child,” he used his head to indicate a tentacle that was floating beside his head, the room was filled with them now, a greenhouse full of tendrils, “now do what you were doing before. It’s an order.” And Sebastian obliged, wrapping it around the base again. This time, he made a little bow with it just for the laugh of it, pulling a reluctant smile from Ciel who slowly and steadily pushed back inside.

It wasn’t like any other sexual encounter Sebastian had ever experienced, he’d slept with people before this contract and during it but nothing like this. No, this touching and slow pace was not usual. Humans are greedy, they chase their pleasure no matter the cost, even their selflessness comes from a place of self-serving desire to feel good about themselves. To tell the people around them that they are good, deserve to be loved and to prove to those who are useful to them that they love them in an attempt to make them stay but this one human needs not do this. He is not good, nor does he want to be loved by anyone, more importantly, he does not need to convince Sebastian to stay through a good sexual performance. After all, the luminescent purple mark on his hand and the boy’s eye had bound them. For as long as it took. Impudent as he was, Sebastian never asked why it was taking so long for those who had targeted the Phantomhives in the past to strike again. Perhaps an inexplicable limerence had developed in his heart and he longed for this game to continue for as long as possible, yearning for the tranquillity of the repetitive butler role. He had resigned himself to the fate he wished to have, willing to be the panacea to all of this man’s pains until he drew his final breath.

That was one possible reason for why each of the inexperienced Earl’s slow, shaky thrust pulled those mellisonant moans from him, why he was riant to feel the boy leaking precum on the tentacles and why, while this bedroom-based lesson was a fervid expression of the sexual desire the two had for each other that had culminated for the longest time, he felt an enmity for the girl who, by virtue of her marriage with this Earl, had created this opportunity. He should be grateful for this chance her upcoming marriage had created for him to corrupt this delicate soul but the thought of not monopolising him and handing him to her tomorrow was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

“What are you thinking about, demon? Focus on me,” snapping out of his thoughts, Sebastian looked at one ‘Ciel Phantomhive’ above him whose sloppy finger-work around the labia and clitoris had steadily improved and so he decided to spoil him and tightened around him, a well-received reward that pulled a pitchy grunt from the lord, “ugh, just finish already, don’t tease.”

“Close now,” the devil muttered, throwing his arm around the shorter man’s neck, “you’re doing so well, good boy.”

“God,” was all he could muster out in response, intensifying his thrusting.

“If this was a test,” he said, smooth and seductive voice laced with the hits of orgasmic tremors inside him, preparing for the incoming release, “I would give you full marks.” He freed the bruising cock from the cock ring he’d made out of his tentacle, letting the boy cum and he spastically squeezed around him, a melancholic orgasm washing over him.

⛧

“As I thought,” Ciel huffed as he maintained his weight on top of Sebastian, “I just can’t picture myself doing this with Lizzy. It’s impossible.”

“Do you hear what you’re saying? Do you?” Sebastian, for the umpteenth time in this contract’s history, became surprised at this unfathomable young man, the ramifications of his contractor’s words ringing in his ears, he struggled to formulate a response better than, “You have to marry her tomorrow. What’s the point of this practice if you won’t reenact tonight’s events with her come tomorrow night?” He recalled Bard’s words in the kitchen earlier before the manor’s chef had gone to bed, I can imagine it’ll be tough for you, tomorrow night’s jamboree, I mean, you’re so close and chum-chum with the master, after all, seein’ him get married will probably leave you all emotional.

“Why did you become a butler? That’s annoying,” Ciel groaned, a child-like noisy whimper in his tone, “a perfect opportunity gone to waste.”

“I will nullify our contract if you continue whinging,” Sebastian deadpanned, “perhaps I’ll be worse off a meal, having wasted this much time but at least I won’t have to spend more time with you as you behave in such a manner.”

The whining continued but in a not-so-whiny voice, “I’m ruminating on my mistake, that’s all.”

“Nullification it is, then.”

“End our contract and save me from perishing? No, I’d like you to engulf me, body and soul, hopefully it’ll be as pleasant as tonight,” joked the Earl, before dropping onto Sebastian’s body, burying his face in the pillow and the mess of black hair next to him, “now, stay here. Until I fall asleep, that is. But you can stay after that too. You did well tonight, get some rest, getting pierced by a scythe can’t be any worse than this.”

“As I am not your butler right now, I will tell you this with all honesty,” Sebastian said, face invisible to his master, “you truly flatter yourself when it comes to size. Comparing it to a scythe? Laughable. Hilarious even.”

“Shut up, I need to sleep,” Ciel gargled, “and you’re my butler right now so stop with the critical comments, flattery is your job anyway.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to be a butler.”

- “Changed my mind.”

“My, you humans are so fickle, whatever shall I do with you?” A soft bite to the Earl’s ear, though depending on the definition one chose to use, it would be more of a kiss than a bite. He was careful with his fangs, not letting them pierce the fragile sheath of skin.

Ciel lifted himself up, face not just sweaty but blushing too, drooling mouth wide open, “W-Why did you do that?”

Not even Sebastian knew how to respond, just looked at him with those sultry eyes that he no longer needed to use now that the lesson was over but couldn’t seem to get rid of, as if his body naturally responded.

“Do that again and I might ask you for another round of… whatever this was,” muttered the Earl, rolling off of Sebastian and laying on his back, staring up at the bed’s canopy as his ear burned sweetly from the play-bite.

The demon rolled over, turning his back on the human he’d become attached to, internally he wondered why he was staying for a chat, “Lessons are over so unfortunately you can’t have it again.”

“Thank you anyway.”

Horrified, the demon only choked out a “What?” He was glad he had his back to the boy because the expression on his face was not one he wanted any human to know they had caused.

“For teaching me, it was inconvenient to change your body like this, I am thankful you taught me,” he was also glad the devil turned his back to him so he could smile the way he was now, a devious little grin. Deep down, he was happy Elizabeth was so blissfully egotistical that she would never be able to tell if he spent every night with someone else.

“You’re thinking of some sly plan, aren’t you?” Sebastian questioned, rolling over to face his contractor once he was sure his face did not show his shock at being thanked, Ciel also immediately changed his expression, as if automatic.

“No? What made you think that?”

“Devil’s intuition,” Sebastian evaded the question, knowing his master would not forgive him if he dared pry into his mind.

Ciel reached over to touch the demon’s face, a harsh pinch to the cheek he’d slapped earlier, “It irks me how you look.”

“I can’t change my face after all these years,” Sebastian simply responded, “I feel as though I told you that already tonight.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he sighed, indulgently twirling some of Sebastian’s dark tresses of hair around his finger.

Sebastian did not mind the touch but was not particularly sure why it was being done.

“So gorgeous,” he said it as if was a curse, whispering under his breath, a harsh intonation, “and so wicked.”

“You’re much worse than me, the most beautiful, foolish one I’ve ever had the displeasure of serving, there is not a single man on earth as damned as you,” the diabolic creature responded, gentle smile playing on his soft lips, parting slightly as his little lover’s face came closer and parting even more when their lips collided. Who closed the gap? Neither of them really knew.

A mess of teeth and fangs, tongue and lips, noses bumping into each other like constant carriage collisions in London roads. Ciel broke the messy kiss off and covered his mouth with a reddened face, boyishly shy, looking at the most unholy, divine face in the world. Raven hair still between his fingers, he stared for a moment to admire the magnificent sight in front of him. The cupid’s bow of the demon’s lips was covered in his spit, sharp nose balancing one of Ciel’s sweat drops that had transferred onto his face accidentally when their noses brushed against each other and even his lipstick had mixed with drool and ran onto his chin. There was a faint taste of dried blood that Ciel could taste.

“I could taste my own blood,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if in shock that they had kissed at all.

Ignoring the elephant in the room, Sebastian who was on the verge of being jaw-slacked, replied with, “I hope that doesn’t happen at the altar.”

“Let’s hope not,” Ciel said then felt one of those tendrils that had filled the room retreat under a blanket that had draped itself over Sebastian’s laying form, “what are you doing under there?”

“Returning to the form prior to the events of tonight,” he said, making sure the young man could not peak under the sheets and see the visceral, gory sight of the body being returned to how it was prior in the evening, “since I cannot maintain this forever, I manifested as a male for the contract so keeping a female interior will not be feasible.”

“I see.” A part of him was prideful that his demon was so thorough in everything he did for him but another side of him had wished he had manifested differently. Perhaps he could have married Sebastian, should it have been socially acceptable. But then what would he do with Elizabeth, who expected to marry his brother? He was his brother now; he had no choice but to marry her. The anger caused by his thoughts translated to his expression.

“Does it displease you so much?” Sebastian asked, noticing the mood shifting in the boy’s face, “Not to worry, you won’t need me after tomorrow. This was just for one night.” And then he pulled the boy in for another kiss, letting his internal wants control him, as if it was etched deep in his subconscious that he wanted this human being a disgusting amount. After a while, Sebastian’s assault on his puffed-up lips paused, giving Ciel a chance to breathe. The devil did not want to suffocate his favourite flame.

“Why?” Ciel gasped.

“Why, you won’t need me because you will be married tomorrow- “That’s not what I’m asking, is it? You know what I meant. Why are you kissing me?” Ciel pulled Sebastian’s hair, getting him closer, staring into those barberry eyes.

“To be completely honest, I do not know.”

- “Do it again then, you sick mutt.”

“You do not mind?” Sebastian questioned, wide-eyed, “Why?”

“To be completely honest,” Ciel brought his face closer, “I don’t know either.” And their lips reunited, joint as if they were inseparable, in a state where they were attached to each other’s mouths more than conjoined twins. They were in a dire state of desperation, each second bringing them closer. Helplessness is what Ciel felt, a feeling similar to that he experienced when he felt like he was drowning in the North Atlantic Ocean during that cruise trip. His hands held onto Sebastian’s face for dear life and the demon was running his hands all over him too, as if memorising the lines of his thin body, drawing a skeletal model in his mind. The touches felt so purposeful that he almost wanted to ask if he could recreate him. Even after death, would he be immortalised in the devil’s mind?

Once they paused, Sebastian spoke, “I must say, you are also bad at kissing.” He wiped some of the lipstick that had rubbed onto the Earl’s face off and fondly remarked, “but this will be good practice for tomorrow.” The kissing resumed, softer and less rushed now. A tear that had been hanging off one of Ciel’s lashes from when he’d cried earlier had turnt to salt when dried and dusted his cheek with the white power, a salty seasoning for the meal Sebastian had been preparing for so long. The devil licked the salty red-apple cheek.

It was unclear whether they spent hours kissing or just a few minutes, but it did not feel like a short time. “You, can you sleep?”

Sebastian answered, “It’s a luxury I usually cannot afford.”

“Sleep tonight,” he said then added, “that’s an order.”

“As you wish.”

⛧

Sleeping was not something easy for the demon, he was on edge of an attack on the manor, an attempt of his dear master’s life, his sustenance, his reason for being. If he lost the singular human, what would he have left? Would he return to the realm of demons only to be outcasted for his eccentricity? To live in his memories as a butler? No, he simply could not sleep and risk losing this lifetime to a stray bullet or a spontaneous asthma attack.

“How long does it take you to sleep? This is boring,” Ciel was sat up, chin resting on his palm, held up by his elbow.

“You are watching me like you are at one of Ms. Diaz’s performances, surely my sleeping face is not such a point of interest.”

“It is, actually,” Ciel brushed his hair out of his face with his other hand, “I haven’t seen it, so I want to.”

Sebastian huffed, closing his eyes, “Is that why you sat at my bed like that when we came back from the Campania?”

“Yes, this is something I’ve wanted to see from years ago.”

“I look just as I do now with my eyes closed, as I have shut them now,” he said, eyes still closed until he felt a shadow looming above him, his eyes opened, red with worry until he saw it was Ciel looming over him, studying him closely, “I did not expect you to be hovering over me like the Ader Éole.”

“The what?”

“Nevermind,” Sebastian hopelessly sighed at his master’s human limitations when it came to basic worldly knowledge while he kept tabs on every single possibly relevant occurrence on earth in case it could coincidentally benefit his master, “I cannot sleep if you hang over me like a Box Kite.”

“Fine then,” Ciel slumped beside him, “I’ll sleep, and you do too, it’s an order.”

“I don’t yet understand your morbid obsession with seeing me unconscious, but I suppose there are no limits to human curiosity, even if your obsessions are bizarre,” he then added, “Lady Elizabeth will surely find your niche interest of watching the person you share a bed with while they sleep quite disturbing, try to hide this somnophilic fantasy of yours.”

“Do you want to argue or sleep? Shut your mouth,” Ciel said, elbowing the demon whose form under the blanket was a black blob in disrepair.

“I have no intention to argue with you.”

After a while, the nobleman’s breathing had slowed, tired from the nightly activities, sleep was closing in on him and Sebastian could feel it. Unknowing of the exact reason, he turned to look at him. And realised very quickly that he’d been lulled into a sense of false security.

“So, you were going to watch me sleep and did not want to give me the same luxury?” Ciel asked, proud of himself for the way he thought he’d fooled the demon who simply looked at him, content with the moment.

“I have seen you sleep many nights,” Sebastian said, putting his hand on the boy’s head, “now should you not sleep? Your day is busy tomorrow.”

“Sometimes I think I made a mistake taking on my brother’s identity,” Ciel said, confused at why he chose to be honest.

Sebastian suddenly felt a pang of concern that he’d have to end the contract here and consume the boy’s soul, “Does that mean you regret our contract? It’s too late to back out now.”

“Not at all, I have no intention of doing that,” he reassured the demon, a mix of terror and excitement of being ‘eaten’ causing his heart to skip a beat, “I just do not think this marriage is something I can keep up.”

“Lady Elizabeth is lovely, she will make you happy for… as long as you live,” Sebastian did not allow his hostility towards her show, he likes to think he never did. He respected her for her strength and knows in noble society, she is the ideal wife to stand beside the Earl of Phantomhive. And he is the perfect butler and no matter the cost, he swore to keep this boy’s chin-up and his soul full of vanity and that is what he shall do, what he must do.

“Happiness is fleeting and death inescapable, I do not need such a thing as happiness when I am aware of my own mortality,” a cryptic response that was followed by another of those unexplainable kisses that the pair had been sharing. Ciel finally fell asleep, the desire to stay awake and prolong the time he spent unmarried weaker than the wear in his bones, but he wasn’t the only one drained. Sebastian felt fatigue for the first time in a long time and he wanted to let himself close his eyes. He still did not want to fall asleep, merely to rest his eyes, though even that was bothersome as he enjoyed watching his little master sleeping. After all, it was one of the only times he appeared innocent, multi-coloured veins visible on his soft eyelids. Sebastian gave both eyes a chaste baiser, before closing his own eyes at last.

It’d be a long night.