Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2254809.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Michaelis/Ciel_Phantomhive
  Character:
      Sebastian_Michaelis, Ciel_Phantomhive
  Additional Tags:
      Whipping, Blood, Bloodplay, Blood_Drinking, Anal_Sex, Shota, Yaoi,
      Bondage, Collars, Dom/sub, Size_Difference, Situational_Humiliation,
      Creampie
  Series:
      Part 4 of Black_Butler:_Those_Things_Implied
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-04 Words: 2629
****** His Butler, Reclaimer ******
by BitterWhore
Summary
     Mourning has passed, at least enough for the Earl Phantomhive to
     return to some semblance of normalcy. Now, after returning from
     dealing with the Demon Hound, he finds himself desiring 'stress-
     relief' once more - albeit a much more intense kind of stress relief.
Sebastian peers out the window for a moment, marveling at the night sky. It is
good to be home, if for no other reason than he no longer has to be surrounded
by so many of those awful canines. There is of course that demonic hound that
he and the others now have the unfortunate responsibility of taking care of -
but it is well trained, so it could be muchworse.
"I've been thinking, Sebastian, about things we've spoken about," Ciel says.
The butler blinks and turns, looking to his young lord. The young master has
set aside what he was previously working on, that being some form of paperwork.
"Have you, my master? What specific things?"
"Control, or lack there of. I am in control so much, Sebastian. I control you,
I play the game… it's so stressful. I think I've come to understand myself
better," Ciel tells him, lacing his fingers together and looking straight
ahead. His cheeks are already reddening and he can't bring himself to look at
his butler.
"Oh? And what is this understanding, my lord? How have you come to it?"
Ciel sighs heavily, turning his eyes down to his desk.
"When we were seeking the Demon Hound, Sebastian. I saw that disgraceful man
whipping that strange maid. I don't know how precisely to express what I felt,
but it was… odd. Concerning," the young master says, frowning. "She was under
his control, not her own. She had nothing in that moment to worry about but
pain, which she clearly didn't like."
The butler tilts his head, thinking. It's obvious what his master is implying,
but it still requires a certain amount of thought before he is sure what to
say.
"I see. And you, of course, do like pain, my lord. So, am I correct in saying
that you wish to experience that kind of lack of control, with the pain, so you
might continue controlling your stress?" he asks, eyes narrowed.
Ciel is silent for a long time, well over a few minutes. His butler, as is
proper, waits in silence for the entire time, his hands clasped behind his
back. The Earl Phantomhive's face is positively burning red. His bright blue
eye, the only one visible of course, is nearly closed as if he is trying to
shut out the world so he can say what he needs to say.
"I want even less control, Sebastian. I want the pain, and the submission, and
I want it to be as much as possible for as long as possible. I want the pain to
last after we are done. I want marks that have to heal," Ciel finally says,
each word spilling past his lip at speed like he's trying to just get it over
with as quickly as possible. "So… so we will need to buy a whip, and… whatever
else we need. I trust that you know."
Now comes the smile. Sebastian knows exactly what he needs to do, exactly what
to say.
"My lord, we already own a whip and several riding crops," Sebastian tells him
softly.
"I'm not talking about things used for the horses, Sebastian."
The butler's smile grows. His eyes take on the reddish, glowing look that they
always possess in times of particular amusement or anger.
"I am not talking about those things we possess for the horses. I have my own
materials, my lord. I thought perhaps at some point they would become useful.
This is not the way I expected, but I am prepared - naturally," the butler
explains. "If you would like, we could retreat to the basement. I will fetch
the things on the way, if you like."
"Will you… clean the wounds as well? Will the whip make wounds?" Ciel asks,
looking to him.
"Yes, my lord, to both. Now, if you would like to get on your way, I can meet
you there. The other will know to stay out of the basement. I am sure I can
find tasks for them to do," Sebastian answers, proffering his hand. Ciel takes
it and rises.
"I will meet you there, then."
Master and servant walk together to the door. Ciel drops his butler's hand as
the tall, lean man opens the door and shows him out into the hallway. They part
ways. Quickly, nervously, the Earl Phantomhive makes his way to the basement.
Unsurprisingly, Sebastian is waiting for him. The butler, as always, looks like
he has been waiting for this for the longest time. He appears to be prepared as
well, with a table all set up and waiting with everything laid out on it.
The young master takes a moment to stare at that table after passing through
the door. His butler smiles, watching Ciel's cheeks grow red extremely quickly.
After Ciel manages to close his mouth, Sebastian crosses the distance between
them and shuts the door, drops a bar to lock it.
"Give me an order, my lord. No matter how much control you wish to surrender, I
still require an order from my master," Sebastian says softly.
"Take control then, Sebastian. Do to me what you will. Leave your marks on my
skin," the young lord says, keeping his eyes turned towards the floor. "I was
taken by Druitt. I was taken by force and pleasurable or not I… I want to
belong to you again. Mark me! Take me back! I want to be your dog!"
Sebastian kneels, pressing his lips to his young lord's. The kiss is long and
hard, desperate on Ciel's side and forceful on Sebastian's. Their tongues meet,
gently at first, but that lasts about as long as it takes for the butler to be
more forceful.
When the kiss breaks, Sebastian leans in to whisper in his ear.
"My lord, I am not overly fond of dogs. However, for you, I suspect I can make
an exception. Now… strip your own clothes off, for once."
Ciel is left breathless, watching his butler move with his back pressed to the
wall beside the door. As soon as his brain processes things properly, he begins
to work at the buttons. The motions are actually a bit unfamiliar, but he gets
the coat off, and then the shirt.
Sebastian just watches, that cruel smile on his face. Ciel lays his clothing on
the open spot on the table, his shoes underneath it. The socks and their belts
go next, and then finally, his undergarments. The butler is amused by how much
more comfortable Ciel is getting with his nudity before the butler.
"Now come to me, my young lord."
Ciel approaches him, unsure. The butler's white gloved hands fall on his and
the young master is pushed to his knees.
The belting happens so fast Ciel can't even see the butler move. Something wide
and leather tightens around his ankles. Something else tightens around his
wrists and they are pulled together in front of him. With that done, Ciel
grabbed by those bound wrists and dragged roughly towards the wall. He finds
himself then secured via another belt to a ring on the floor that he makes a
mental note to ask about at some point since he has no idea why it might be
there.
His view then is nothing but the wall.
As always, his butler's footfalls are near silent.
"Sebastian? What… what happens ne-"
He is interrupted by a piece of rough cloth that is secured around his head. It
is an effective gag.
His Butler's warmth is against him then, those hot lips against his ear.
"We mustn't have you screaming too loud, my lord. Unless we are more alone, I
cannot hear those delightful noises. I have however procured something for you…
something you may like. It might be tight, but you'll just have to accept
that," the demon whispers.
Ciel stiffens as another piece of leather touches his skin. This one is much
more high quality - he can tell simply by how it feels. Cold metal touches the
back of his neck, and he realizes as it tightens that it is a collar. The young
lord's heart is pounding. He is ashamed by how absolutely aroused he is at the
moment, and by the throbbing already occurring between his legs.
Of course, there is nothing to be done about it now. He has surrendered
control, given it over to the demon who will eat his soul. It's thrilling
beyond anything he has ever experienced.
"This will hurt, my lord."
Ciel cannot even tense up before the whip cracks and a line of fire is drawn
across his back. The butler gives him time to struggle against the ring on the
floor, trying to pull away - but the belt holds fast. The struggles do not last
nearly as long as Sebastian expects them to, but his master enduring terrible
things with strength beyond what he ought to possess has become normal.
The whip cracks again, drawing another line of fire. Welts rise quickly on the
Earl Phantomhive's back, the skin reddened. The second strike of the whip
brings fewer struggles than the first, though the young lord's entire body
still tenses.
The third crack comes faster, bringing tension again, and then the forth hits
before Ciel can even relax. His eyes are wide open, his teeth gritted on the
cloth in his mouth. Between his legs, his small cock throbs and drips pre onto
the cold, dirty ground. The collar is tight about his neck, and that plus the
gag makes breathing more difficult.
The fifth crack comes, and then the sixth, and seventh. The pace is even,
measured. For a time, this persists. Sebastian's cruel smile never wavers, his
eyes never cease to glow.
When he is sure his master has become used to the agony, he adjusts his speed
and the strength with which he whips. Angry red lines cover Ciel's back, and
each now stronger strike of the whip makes him whimper and gasp, unable to
scream.
Dots of blood begin to appear behind the whip as the butler speeds up once
more. Tears are dripping down the young master's cheeks, dripping off of his
jaw. Every noise from his mouth is a gasp that comes with muffled moan of pain
and pleasure. His eyes are partially rolled back now. All there is in his world
is pain and submission now. Everything is gone. All the pain, the stress, the
terror, the disgust. Everything is just pain and his butler, and that is
exactly what he needed.
He has no decisions to make, no orders to give, nothing to do but remain in
place and take it. He wants to beg for it to be harder, but he doesn't need to.
Sebastian knows.
And so the whipping intensifies until several strikes draw blood in long lines.
The hot red runs down the young master's back, dripping off of his ass. The
crack of the whip comes so regularly it's almost as fast as Ciel's heartbeat.
Many more bleeding lines are formed. The heat of his own blood becomes an all-
consuming sensation, something that makes his eyes fall half closed and his
brain go fuzzy with pleasure.
And then the whipping stops.
His eyes snap to focus, staring at the wall in front of him. A desperate,
pleading whimper is muffled by the gag - but the butler's ears are much sharper
than most others. He is at his young lord in a split second, kneeling.
His tongue runs up the line that bleeds the worst, the crimson smearing on his
lips and chin. Over and over again, he licks the blood as if it is a drug - the
drug. The only thing that matters in this moment. The sensation of his tongue
on the wounds is agony, bringing soft whimpers from Ciel as he struggles for
breath.
"You… are… mine," Sebastian growls, roughly removing the belt that ties his
bound wrists to the ring on the floor. The young lord is dragged roughly across
the floor and then lifted by his arms. The butler sweeps everything off of the
table and forces Ciel against the cold metal surface.
In a flash, Sebastian's belt is undone, his pants drawn down. Legs hanging in
the air helplessly, Ciel can do nothing but wait until black nailed hands fall
on his hips. Heat presses to his blood dampened ass. Slickness is smeared
around.
The cold metal of the table is pressed to the young lord's small cock, pinning
it between the metal and his stomach.
Sebastian lets out another growl while positioning himself, and then he works
his own throbbing arousal into his master. This time, there is no gentleness.
While he moves slow enough to avoid damage, he ensures it hurts like hell as he
slides inside and then he begins thrusting quickly without bothering to work up
to it.
Each exhalation brings a half pant, half growl from the butler. Each thrust, a
muffled sort of squeak from the Earl Phantomhive. The metal table is heavy
enough to stay in place against the force of the rapid thrusts.
"You… will never… belong to anyone but me," Sebastian mutters through gritted
teeth, reaching out to drag his black nails down his young lord's back. His
hand is wet with blood when he reaches up, smearing the blood on the side of
his face as he brushes his hair out of his eyes. "You are mymaster. No one
else. I will never surrender you! I will never allow you to be taken from me!
You are mine!"
The thrusts become frantic, vicious, full of rage and possessive need. Ciel
doesn't even try to keep himself under control, he just lets his orgasm slam
down on him. The young lord's cock throbs and spurts cum between his skin and
the table. The force of the inward motions spreads it around on his stomach.
His internal muscles clench and release with every spurt of cum. This and the
blood and the damage to his young master's back and the gasping, choking noises
Ciel makes push Sebastian over the edge. He too allows his orgasm to come
without resistance, pumping his cum deep into his lord's depths. Even then, the
thrusts do not slow. He forces himself to keep going until there is nothing
left in him to fill his master with. Only then does he slow.
Inch by inch he withdraws until his head pops free and cum mixed with small
quantities of blood weeps out sluggishly.
Almost immediately, he works Ciel up until the boy's slender form is lying face
down on the table. The ankle belt is released, and then those on his wrists,
and then the collar and gag.
"Are you okay, my master?" the butler asks, rolling Ciel slowly onto his back.
Every inch of his body trembles with exhaustion. His skin is coated with a
sheen of sweat and in placed blood has ran down his sides to mix with the
sticky cum on his stomach.
"… S-Sebastian…" the young lord murmurs, panting hard now that he can actually
manage to draw breath at all.
"I am here, my lord," the butler murmurs, leaning down to kiss Ciel softly.
"… don't forget to clean… t-to clean me up… order," the young master manages
before consciousness slips away.
Sebastian stares for a moment, and then checks his pulse. His young lord is
breathing well, and appears for all intents and purposes to have simply passed
out.
"As you wish, my lord," the butler says to no one, looking the boy over once
more. "Oh my… we did make a mess this time. It will be one hellof a trick
getting this cleaned up with no one knowing…"
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