Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/1797610. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler Relationship: Sebastian_Michaelis/Ciel_Phantomhive Character: Sebastian_Michaelis, Ciel_Phantomhive Additional Tags: Smut_and_Popcorn, Tutoring, Latin_Kink, Non-Consensual_Spanking, Shota, Ciel_Is_A_Brat, Banter, Tutor_Sebastian, Good_Idea:_Doing_What_the_Tutor From_Hell_Says, Bad_Idea:_Everything_Ciel_Does_In_This_Fic, Sebastian_is a_Dirty_Old_Devil, Filthy_Latin_Poetry, Pissing_Off_Sebastian_is_Ciel's Favorite_Pastime, Poor_Sebastian, Oral_Sex, Teasing, Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Your_Demon_Is_Showing, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Bloodplay, Blood_Drinking, Floor_Sex, Sex_is_messy Stats: Published: 2014-06-17 Completed: 2014-10-16 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 17709 ****** Persona non grata ****** by Silverwing26, soulless_lover Summary Or, How To Royally Piss Off Your Latin Teacher In A Dozen Words Or Less. Latin lessons are boring as Hell... especially when Hell happens to be your ancient tutor's hometown. Even worse is when you're forced to write Latin poems as punishment for failing your exams - and that's after said ancient tutor from Hell whacks you across the hands for pre-punishment! Well, when one is forced to do ridiculously boring work, one must find a way to liven things up a bit, right? Of course right! Featuring soulless_lover as our little brat plucky student hero, Ciel and Silverwing26 as dirty old man sadistic motherfucker the oldest Latin tutor on Earth Sebastian ***** Ad nauseam ***** Ciel rubbed his stinging knuckles sullenly. Having already received two strokes across the palms for failing the hellishly difficult Latin exam Sebastian had given him the day before, when he again scored poorly on the morning’s lesson, his oh so lenient tutor had opted for a sound crack across the knuckles with a ruler and the assignment of writing lines. More precisely, the writing of a Latin poem. One hundred times. In perfect penmanship, with no grammatical mistakes. It had taken the little Earl some time to locate a poem he felt suited the occasion, and even longer to write it all out so many times over, but looking over his work, a wicked little smile curved his lips. Written in impeccable, aristocratic cursive was a poem by Martial, discovered in a dusty old tome he never would have suspected of containing such material: Sebastianum, quid solium subluto podice perdis? Spurcius ut fiat Sebastianum, merge caput. The original had a different name in the poem, but Ciel thought the substitution of a Latin form of his insufferable tutor’s name was much more apropos. He approached the desk where Sebastian sat reading some ridiculously thick book and cleared his throat politely; when the demon looked up over the rims of the spectacles he didn’t need, the boy held out the sheets of written lines with an angelic smile. Sebastian slid a finger between the pages of the heavy book and took the stack of papers from his rather cherubic looking student. A glance down at the page had his brow arching and he lifted his head to look into the little Earl's smiling face. I must remember how closely impish and angelic resemble one another on this boy. He cleared his throat and closed the book proper before setting it down on the edge of his desk; the cover read Cassell’s Household Guide - The Rearing and Management of Children. The demon stood from his desk gracefully and regarded Ciel with the penetrative stare the boy was all too familiar with; Sebastian had a habit of taking Latin lessons exceedingly seriously. He cleared his throat and as he tilted his head to the side to begin reading the translation aloud, the boy's reflection was caught in the demon's spectacles and blinked back at him for a moment, showing his deceptively innocent face. “Hmm. ‘Sebastian, why do you pollute the bath by plunging your arse into it? A tip – want to make it filthier? Submerge your head in the bath as well.’ Tsk.” Sebastian flipped the papers soundlessly and then crossed his arms loosely at his waist, the hand holding the stack of papers resting under his opposite elbow while his curled fingers rested against his cheek and jaw. “Your penmanship is excellent, Young Master. However, your choice of material – Martial II.42 – leaves much to be desired. While your intelligence is not being called into question, one does wonder if the point of this punishment was perhaps lost on you.” The tutor locked eyes with his student's singular blue one, and in that moment while they stared at one another, the demon's lips began to lift at the corners. Ciel schooled his expression into one of earnest naiveté. “But I did so much research to find such an obscure poem, and I was very careful to ensure that my grammar was correct and clearly understandable – I thought you’d surely be pleased with my use of resource materials and my adaptation of the original.” He couldn’t resist adding with an irrepressible smirk, “I rather think my version is much better, don’t you?” “Don’t you, Teacher.” the demon corrected, and his voice was teetering somewhere between deadly serious and fatally sarcastic. It was often difficult to tell with Sebastian. “Ah, if only the young master would take such care in all of his lessons, perhaps lines would not be necessary.” He placed the pile of elegantly penned yet filthy poetry on his desk. “I rather wonder what it is you are trying to communicate to me with your revisions. To take on such extra work in a subject that clearly seems to trouble you - if the sheer volume of times I have had to correct you is any indication - would lead me to believe there is some message you would like me to take from this.” The devil’s eyes narrowed slightly and his smirk blossomed full upon his lips. “Do speak plainly; I give you leave to do so. Though try to keep the actual lesson you should have taken from this exercise in mind while you do so.” Ciel resisted the urge to roll his eyes in utter contempt. “Oh, I have your permission to speak, do I? How kind of you.” Folding his arms, he met and held his tutor’s gaze, refusing to be cowed by the demon’s self-assumed authority. “Really now, Teacher,” the boy said, his guileless mask slipping somewhat, “do you mean to tell me your mind isn’t as filthy as a street gutter? Why, I’d wager a hundred pounds and week’s worth of sweets that you could easily out- filth Martial any day of the week, even in your sleep – well, if you ever slept, that is.” The Earl gestured toward the sheaf of papers on the desk. “As for my lesson, I believe the point of the exercise was to indelibly stain my memory with Latin – a language no one under the age of nine thousand speaks anymore, by the by – and rest assured that I have learnt an excessive amount of new words. Perhaps you’d like me to recite a poem or two, Teacher?” Sebastian's brow arched ever so slightly under the barrage of freely spoken words. Words that, if he were to be honest, were as crass and petulant as he had hoped they would be. Such a spark burning inside the little master today… how I shall enjoy extinguishing it. He smiled indulgently and took a slow step around the corner of the desk. Coming to stand next to his rather resistant pupil, he looked down into a fiery, disgruntled little face. If only to coax those embers to flames... “I see the point has escaped you after all.” He stepped around the Earl as he spoke. “My countenance and specific skill set are not in question here. Young Master is astute in his observations – as always.” The devil's tone was rich and velvety and he leaned over the boy's shoulder at the last moment, speaking softly into his ear: “Conducting oneself with grace even under exceedingly unpleasant situations, however, seems to have slipped you by. Never you mind. I shall find an alternative way to ensure proper retention of this lesson.” Ciel smothered a rising sense of alarm; he was quite familiar with Sebastian’s firmly-held belief that only experiences steeped in pain were memorable to humans – however, in the two years the devil had been his tutor, the Earl had never gotten worse than stinging palms, bruised knuckles, and hand cramps from writing lines for hours. He was confident that despite the schoolmaster act, Sebastian knew his station and would never dare to dole out a really severe punishment. “Oh, do spare me,” the boy sighed in a bored sort of tone. “I followed your dictates and did the bloody lines, and I did them well, thank you. I learnt some new words – albeit some rather blue ones – and I’ve memorized a host of grand new phrases and verb conjugations. I’d say that goes above and beyond the drudgery of the original assignment, wouldn’t you?” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Well, I do expect all your assignments to be drudgery, given how boring… well, I shan’t say that aloud, as it might be considered rude by certain boring… persons.” “Spare you?” The devil chuckled softly next to the boy's ear, his warm breath ghosting over Ciel's soft cheek. “Did I not already do that by giving you only one stroke this morning, and setting you to work on your lines?” Sebastian clasped his hands behind his back as he remained leaned over his young master's shoulder. The spectacles he wore perched on his nose caught the glow of his eyes as they smoldered lowly behind half-lowered lids. “You are not incorrect. You have learnt a bevy of new words. I shall confirm this shortly.” The demon tilted his head, the chain hanging from his spectacles brushing against the boy's immaculately tailored suit lapel. “Oh now one mustn't be rude? I see you are beginning to garner something from this after all.” A small, amused heh noise preceded a gentle sigh as the demon stated simply, “I shall endeavor to make this more memorable, then.” “Oh, stop it!” Ciel blurted in exasperation, turning to face his tutor. “I did the work, I learnt the lesson, and you have absolutely no right to harangue me when I’ve been letting you get away with ordering me about and lashing me like a common street child! I’ve been perfectly cooperative on far more occasions than you deserve, and here you are, looming over me like some ominous storm cloud, rumbling idle threats.” Pride and fury blazed in the Earl’s blue eye. “Don’t forget your place, demon!” Sebastian’s eyes blazed brightly for a moment as they met Ciel's single visible one, fire and water clashing, fighting to extinguish one another. “You take issue with my teaching methods then?” Such a proud, willful, resistant little thing today. “Am I not to ensure you are the model of a perfect gentleman, to teach you to behave with civility, culture and manners, so that you will seem to possess the stature you lack in height?” The demon's otherworldly features contorted into something akin to exasperation. “I have not forgotten, little master.” The contract etched on the back of Sebastian's left hand pulsed warmly. “For each act I uphold is for your benefit, even if it may be unpleasant.” Sebastian drew himself up to his full height; his voice had softened and he regarded his master with eyes still faintly burning. “No, Young Master, you have learned a lesson. A valuable one. You are, when you put your quite capable mind to it, a rather apt pupil. You did not however learn the lesson.” The tutor smiled once more. “So if you are finished throwing your row, let us finish what we started.” He slipped his watch from his pocket and checked the time. “I would not want for you to be late for tea.” Ciel’s blue eye narrowed angrily. “Are you implying that I have not behaved in a manner befitting my station? That is the pot calling the kettle black.” He straightened his spine proudly and stood as tall as he could, refusing to let the devil intimidate him with his great height. “Furthermore, if I am late for tea, it will be entirely your fault, as you have drawn this out of your own accord. I could even dock your pay for such a thing, you know.” It was a mostly pointless threat, given that Sebastian didn’t give a damn about money, but the Earl knew that his butler took great pride in performing tasks – however impossible – perfectly, and to be reprimanded in such a manner would be an enormous insult to the devil. Sebastian's eyes glowed a deep ruby red and his thin arched brow twitched. “You are behaving childishly and wasting time. Neither of which are befitting your station.” The demon took a slow step closer to his pupil. “This is not acceptable.” Ciel struggled not to take a step backward; he was determined to stand his ground, despite being much smaller than Sebastian – he was only about eye level with the top button on the demon’s low-fronted waistcoat – and he was so certain of his position that he was not going to allow himself to even consider the possibility of surrender. “Oh?” He arched a brow cynically. “As we seem to be pointing out one another’s faults, let me remind you that I am the master here, you are the servant, and if either of us is behaving unacceptably, it is you, Sebastian!” He pointed an imperious little finger up at the devil’s face, nearly rising up onto tiptoe in his effort to counter Sebastian’s towering stature. “And let me tell you another thing: I will not stand for your ridiculous threats. I am not afraid of you, demon, and I shan’t be browbeaten by a butler, whether from Hell or not!” He paused to draw in a slow breath, then continued through nearly-gritted teeth: “Now cease this nonsense and stand down, do you hear? Now.” Sebastian stood silently and stared down that thin little finger into the blazing eye of his small lord. His lips merely curled at the corners slightly and as they did so, his inky black pupils narrowed into feline-like slits. "I do not offer threats." The devil remained where he was, looking down at the boy so radiantly glowing in his own perceived power; the lovely, pompous creature was all but afire with hauteur and the demon recounted, with some pride of his own, why he had chosen this boy as his master. The Faustian contract pulsed again on the back of his hand. "To you, I speak only the truth." He took one step closer, closing the small remaining gap between them. "And I am your butler first and foremost, but when you are engaged in lessons, I am also your tutor. Therefore, what I am about to do is not only for your own good, but also my responsibility, you see." Defiant though he might be, as he stared up into those bottomless black slits, Ciel became keenly aware of his disadvantageous position, his genuine powerlessness against this inhuman being, his own mortality. A cold, shuddering chill crept down his spine; his blood turned to ice in his veins; his eyes widened, momentarily transfixed by the devil’s malevolent gaze; his self- preservation instinct overpowered his rebellion; and without another word, he turned on his heel and ran. The devil smirked. ***** Dulcius ex asperis ***** Chapter Summary Ciel learns an important lesson: Riling up the hellish black feathers of the demonic tutor = bad.  Id est, Sebastianum fututor est. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Highly polished wood with intricate swirls and beautifully hand carved details - that was the vision that suddenly appeared before the boy's eyes, accompanied by a loud resounding thud as the demon's hand rested firmly against the door. He looked down over the top of Ciel's head, his eyes glittering in the shadow cast by his own body. “Going somewhere? Tsk, you have not been given leave to go, as we have not yet finished for the day; I'm afraid tea will have to wait.” Ciel ducked under Sebastian’s outstretched arm and ran for the door at the far end of the room, his heart pounding; he was operating on sheer instinct, all logic and reason having vanished into the menacing aura emanating from the unholy creature that without a doubt meant to do him harm. He didn’t give any thought to what, exactly, Sebastian would do to him, but the boy was one hundred percent certain that it would not be pleasant. Sebastian chuckled softly to himself. “Really now, Young Master?” The demon's normally immense level of patience had finally worn thin. He arched a brow and watched the boy duck under his arm and run for the far side of the room. I shall remember this display of athleticism the next time he tries to tell me he cannot complete a task I set for him due to his asthma. He thought about simply grabbing the boy's arm as he ran, but with the fervor the young master was displaying in an attempt to distance himself from his fiend, he might very well damage the boy's shoulder socket. “Oof.” It was a barely audible sound, more the air being pushed from the tutor's lungs as he placed himself directly in the pathway of the door. His unnatural speed left little time to react and he was quickly extending an arm to encircle the boy as he bounced off Sebastian's chest. Ciel’s pounding heart dropped into his shoes as he realized what – whom – he had collided with; he saw the white glove reaching for him, and without thinking, he struck out with the back of his hand, wincing when his rapped knuckles met Sebastian’s unyielding forearm. “Don’t touch me!” He was almost shouting, droplets of cold sweat beading up on his pale skin. Sebastian's baleful gaze pierced that wide blue eye and then slid slowly along the boy's arm to his hand and rested on the place where his small master had struck him. It caused the demon no pain – truthfully, he barely felt such a trifle – but it was simply the principle of the matter. “I am afraid I must.” He bent down and wrapped one arm about Ciel’s waist, hoisting him from his feet. “You are behaving like a spoilt child,” he scolded, walking toward his desk. Ciel swallowed a wave of panic. It’s only Sebastian, he reminded himself firmly, it’s only Sebastian! “Put me down!” he commanded with as much dignity as he could muster whilst half terrified and tucked up under the devil’s arm like a pet Pekinese. “Sebastian!” Ciel's command was obeyed, but perhaps not in the manner in which he intended: Sebastian took the few remaining steps to the short end of his desk and sat himself upon it, then promptly set his little lord down over his rather long lap. He arched a brow, feeling the panic welling up inside the small creature and placed a steadying hand on the boy’s back to keep him perched there as his coltish legs kicked in protest. “Young Master, your manners have been atrocious today, and your language less than genteel.” He pulled one white cotton glove from his hand and dropped it to the desk top next to Ciel's head. “It will be over soon, though I feel I should warn you: this will hurt, Young Master.” Ciel twisted around to look at Sebastian, and the demon almost laughed when he saw that incredulous expression, that wide blue eye huge and as round as a saucer. “Sebastian,” the little Earl began, his voice wavering ever so slightly, “come now, be reasonable, surely you can’t mean to—“ The demon managed to regain control of himself before he laughed at the child. What a brilliant little tactician. When running fails, resort to reason? “Reasonable, my lord? I aim to be so. I think it very reasonable that proper punishment should be carried out for this level of puerility.” Sebastian switched hands, the bare one with its black seal etched into it holding Ciel steady across his lap; the second glove fell neatly atop the first and the demon turned those slitted eyes back to his young charge. “You may wish to hold onto something.” “Sebastian—Sebastian, wait—“ The first blow struck him solidly across the seat of his short trousers; although his clothing protected him somewhat, it still hurt quite a bit. I must have really annoyed him this time, Ciel thought, but aloud he only said “Ow!” “Hm?” Sebastian queried, but he was no longer looking into the face of his master – now his attention was diverted to the small squirming backside in his lap. The boy took the first hit well, and the second, his small body jumping only slightly. Sebastian could be unerringly precise and the blows came in rapid succession; the small cries of pain leaving the boy’s lips stirred something inside the demon, and his glowing gaze traveled the length of the boy, from his flailing legs to the curve of his rear, down the narrow back and to the fringes of his hair, damp with cold sweat. Such an impudent little thing. Rebellious and fragile, and so proud, the demon thought to himself as his hand came down swiftly once more. And mine. “Seb—ow!! Sebastian, stop—ow! Sebastian! Stop this right now!” Ciel thumped the demon’s leg with a fist, and got an extra-hard smack for his trouble. “Aah! Sebastian, stop, it hurts! Sebastian!!” “Do try and bear it.” The devil smacked the boy again. “That is after all the point of a spanking, Young Master.” He was handling it fairly well, all things considered; the child had probably never been spanked before in his life. Sebastian splayed his fingers against the boy's back in a gesture that could almost be called comforting. His legs parted slightly, giving Ciel a wider base to rest upon as his body bore the punishment his wit and churlishness had earned him. “If you continue to fidget about and protest, I shall have to increase the level of punishment.” “But—but you can’t do this!” Ciel exclaimed in the horrified tones of a small child protesting the unfairness of something. “You’re my butler!” Sebastian paused for a moment and blinked at the child in his lap. “At the moment I am your teacher. Perhaps that will make it easier for you.” The demon arched a brow as his hand came down once more. “I did warn you, Young Master.” Sebastian's hand on Ciel's back firmed and skilled fingers reached beneath the boy to unfasten the buttons of his short trousers. Ciel, realizing what the demon meant to do, abandoned all decorum and began to kick and squirm furiously, trying in vain to keep that damnably dexterous hand from completing its task. “Oh no no no no no, don’t you dare, Sebastian, no—“ The demon paused in his actions just long enough to deliver a warning smack across the boy's already tender rear. “Do stop squirming, lest you fall off my lap and I am forced to begin anew.” Sebastian had only just finished the statement when the last button came free; he slid the boy's short trousers down over his sore buttocks and let them hang about his knees, not bothering to fight with his thrashing legs. The child's muslin drawers were much easier to loosen, and it was with great care that he slid them over the warm upturned rump. “Now then…” The demon's smooth bare hand delivered a sharp fast spank and he tilted his head in appreciation as the flesh bloomed beautifully beneath his palm. “…this should be over quickly.” A loud yelp escaped the Earl before he could bite it back; the pain was awful, a stinging, burning explosion across his backside, and for about three seconds he seriously considered actually begging the devil to stop… but in the end his fierce pride won out and he clenched his jaw shut, determined not to give Sebastian the satisfaction of hearing him plead for mercy. I’ve survived far worse than this, he reminded himself, I can handle a few simple slaps! But as his ruthless tutor doled out smack after unerring smack, Ciel began to realize that it wasn’t the pain of the blows that had him so upset – it was the utter humiliation of the spanking itself. The Earl of Phantomhive, esteemed nobleman, shrewd businessman, the Queen’s Watchdog, facedown over his butler’s lap and getting his naked posterior spanked like a wayward schoolboy. His pride hurt twice as much as his reddened buttocks – and oh, did they hurt a lot. A particularly harsh smack tore a ragged cry from the boy’s throat, and he reached out reflexively for something to hold onto; his small, shaking hand found Sebastian’s leg, and he curled his fingers around a fold in the trouser- cloth. ”Aah!” The devil’s lips curled into a serpentine smile as his hand reddened the proud little Earl's posterior. He felt those small fingers curl into the material of his finely pressed trousers and the irritation flickering through his eyes began to smolder into something akin to pleasure. Sebastian chuckled softly as he swatted the area where the boy's buttocks met his thighs and Ciel's cries reached his ears. Yes, do hold on, my little lord, it shall be over soon. “Ah, there now. I see you are learning your place as a pupil.” Ciel’s eyebrows lifted in horror, then knitted together in indignant fury. “Learning my place?!?" he shouted, his face nearly as red as his aching behind. “How dare you, you impudent, disrespectful dog of a servant!” Livid, he began kicking and thrashing anew, spitting the worst curses he knew – and when he ran out of English ones, he began repeating some of the more colorful Latin phrases he’d recently committed to memory. ”Filius canis!” he yelled, pounding Sebastian’s shins. “Pullipremo!” Words he’d snickered at upon their discovery now came tumbling out with all the furor and contempt they had probably once been infused with when some ancient Roman had hurled them at an adversary: ”Futuere! Ede merda! Podex!” “Really, such foul and common langu-” Sebastian's hand froze in midair, the pleased smirk on his lips fading as his brows rose with surprise when a string of obscenities that could be called nothing less than inspired burst from the boy's lips. Ciel kicked and thrashed and the irascible youth was giving the demon a bit of trouble. Sebastian could of course force the noisome little thing to remain on his lap, but he wished to do so without the unfortunate side effect of cracking one of those delicate human ribs. The boy has been retaining more than I thought. A sound that was not quite a laugh, not quite a chuckle, but wholly evil, cut through the shouted profanity and heavy breathing. Perhaps a change in technique... The devil's blazing eyes softened slightly and he shook the fringe from his eyes. “Pullipremo? Well done, my lord – no one has bandied that word about since the fourth century or so.” However, those wildly swinging legs began to irritate the tutor and in one swift motion he stood from the desk and deposited the boy on his feet. He laid a solid hand against Ciel's back and pushed down firmly, bending his small narrow body over the long side of his wooden desk. The boy's cheek, flushed with ire, came to rest on The Rearing and Management of Children, and the demon chuckled darkly. He leaned over the small form half splayed across his desk and spoke softly in his ear. “Do not move, Young Master.” Ciel’s face burned with anger and humiliation. ”Caput tuum in ano est,” he retorted, with all the dignified bearing of a captive monarch refusing to break under pain of torture. “Ego te odi!” A derisive snort was all the reply the demon was willing to offer at first. “A commendable effort.” Sebastian's voice was irritatingly calm as he spoke from somewhere behind Ciel: “However, your pronunciation could use some work.” Black-tipped nails were momentarily in the boy's peripheral view as Sebastian's hand reached over the desk, grabbed something and then retracted again; and then there was that sound. It was a sound the boy knew all too well, generally preceded by 'take off your rings'. The demon momentarily removed his hand from the boy's back and tested the leather against his palm; his lips curled at the crisp, satisfying sound, and he turned his attention back to the small earl and his smarting buttocks. His eyes were drawn to Ciel's face, his pearly teeth gritted in anger, his scarlet cheek resting on the cover of the child-rearing guide… oh, this was sure to be an interesting, if not exactly textbook, lesson. “Very well. You seem to have learnt up so many new words, let us ensure that you can speak them properly.” The crop came down suddenly and landed against one already-reddened buttock, eliciting a delicious yelp of pain from its owner. “Did you actually learn all of those words and phrases, or are you merely regurgitating information? How much effort did you truly put into finding such an obscure and enlightening poem?” The demon smiled. “Shall I present you with a quiz on one of the new words you have learnt? Let us start with futuere - this is the infinitive form of the verb; however, I am assuming, Young Master, that you are trying to tell me to 'get fucked’.” Another swift smack with the crop, on the other buttock this time. “Conjugate it properly. If you choose to employ such language, I shan't have you sounding ill-educated while doing so. And do mind your pronunciation this time, Young Master.” A quiz? Ciel was incensed beyond measure. Sebastian was giving him a bloody quiz, on profanity, while thrashing him with that wretched riding crop? The absolute gall of it was astounding, and for a moment the boy couldn’t even form words. “I… you…” Another sharp crack across the behind. “In Latin, if you please, Young Master.” Ciel slapped the desk-top with one hand, frustrated and outraged. “Nnnnggg…! All right, all right! Fine, then!” He considered for a few seconds, and when Sebastian prompted him none too gently with a warning growl, he blurted, ”Ut futui!” “Very good.” The devil's voice, when tutoring, could verge on patronizing – he seemed to be quite enjoying the sheer indignation and ire radiating from his small master. “And now the past participle?” Another precise smack against the hot, stinging flesh. “Ow!! Uh… fu—“ He honestly had no idea. “Fu…” A sudden whack of the crop, right across the lower curve of both buttocks. “Ahh!” Oh, hell… -tuere, -tui, -tuum? He hoped Latin was more logical in its verb forms than English. ”Futuum!” Sebastian's brow arched. “An excellent guess, but incorrect, young master.” The two whacks Ciel received were swift, one on the underside of each mound of his rear. Sebastian marveled at the way the flesh lifted and twitched, and he chuckled musically. “Oh dear, perhaps we should start over with the base of the word, yes?” The leather thong of the crop came to rest teasingly on the boy's smarting backside. “It is futuo. Now recite the verb forms in order: infinitive, perfect, and past participle.” There was a slight pause as the leather tapped the flushed skin. “Begin.” Before the boy could comply, the devil added in a velvety voice, “And then, my apt pupil, make it into a noun.” Nearly trembling with rage, Ciel intoned, ”Futuo, futuere, futui…” Oh no, that stupid past participle again; he swallowed hard and took a wild stab in the dark: ”Fututum.” How the hell was he supposed to make a verb into a noun? He supposed ‘someone who fucks’ counted as a noun, so he finished with ”Fututor.” He did not add, ”Id est, Sebastianum fututor est,” but he certainly felt like doing so. The demon nodded his head with each properly conjugated verb, and slid the leather head of the crop over the boy's rear in the moment it took him to think of the proper final form. Smack – the crop landed across the top of the boy's thighs. “Very clever, though incorrect. I am looking for 'a fuck', not 'one who fucks'.” Sebastian smirked at the double entendre and watched the small body in front of him shake against his desk. “Begin again.” Ciel slapped the desk again and cried, “Just tell me what it is already, devil!” Sebastian dealt him another blow with the crop, smiling. “Teacher.” “Teacher,” Ciel responded, rising in pitch, “How the deuce am I supposed to recite a word I don’t even know?!” The desperation in the boy’s voice was as sweet as the icing on a fine French pastry – ah, so delectable. “If I must tell you the answer, it will be a two- stroke penalty, my little lord.” “Fine! You’ve already thrashed me like a filthy rug, what more would two strokes be?” The demon took a moment to marvel at the boy’s courage and fortitude, then administered the two promised strokes, earning him a sharp cry very akin to a wail. How lovely, he thought. “The noun form of futuo is fututio. Now recite all the forms again, in order.” ”Futuo, futuere, futui, fututum, fututio… fututor.” The boy's voice was low but clear, almost sheepish compared to his previous impassioned outbursts; then, in a quiet, defeated mutter, he added: ”Ego te vere odi.” So charming, the demon thought, hearing the softly whispered words perfectly well. There was the sound of the crop being laid upon the desk and with long fingers, Sebastian brushed over Ciel's thoroughly thrashed rear. A small cry escaped the boy and his bottom danced to the side; as light a touch as it was, Sebastian had delivered his punishment swiftly and unerringly and he had not lied when he said it would hurt. The devil crossed his arms and his curled index finger rested below his bottom lip as he regarded the boy with a less than chaste smile. “Sed pulchre, puer, ceves.” There was pride in his voice and something else, something more primal. He reached down and gently wrapped his hand around Ciel's shoulder, and with one hand on his back, eased him into a standing position. He turned the boy to face him and looked into a face flushed with ire, embarrassment, and shining with perspiration. “You handled that well, my lord,” the demon chuckled, “and I award you full marks for your last efforts.” He took the boy's chin in his hand and looked into that ocean-blue eye. “You've now learnt the proper way to pronounce and conjugate these words.” Sebastian's fingers were trailing down the side of his neck, tugging at his rumpled bow, and then came to rest on the topmost button of his fine shirt. Smiling evilly, the demon practically purred, “I shall now show you how to properly use them.” Chapter End Notes Ciel's not-necessarily-grammatically-correct Latin words/phrases: Filius canis - son of a dog Pullipremo - (literally, "chick-squeezer") a man who keeps a beautiful little boy as a sex-toy Futuere - to fuck Ede merda - eat shit Podex - asshole Caput tuum in ano est - your head is up your ass Ego te (vere) odi - I (really) hate you Id est, Sebastianum fututor est - That is, Sebastian is a fucker bonus - Sebastian's (fairly obscene) statement: Sed pulchre, puer, ceves - But you wiggle your ass so beautifully, boy   much thanks to Ryuu for the proper conjugation of oderunt/odi! ***** Experientia docet ***** Chapter Summary In which tutor and pupil have a battle of wills. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Ciel flinched at the demon's light touch, but managed to keep himself from pulling away. "You're awfully certain of yourself," he murmured, his shining eyes glaring balefully up at his towering tutor. "What makes you think I would wish to learn another lesson after the one you've just so thoroughly beaten into me?" Sebastian's smooth white knuckles trailed over the edge of his trembling jaw, those hellfire eyes ablaze, his sharp white teeth just barely visible as his tongue wetted his lips appreciatively. Ciel shivered very slightly and murmured, "This is one lesson you cannot force on me, you know." Sebastian felt a warmth pulse just beneath his skin as his small thoroughly thrashed master still managed to conduct himself with a rather impressive amount of dignity. “One might say that. I am rather familiar with the material after all.” His brow arched at the question and his thumb lightly stroked the flawless fine skin above the boy's collar. “Not all lessons need be this wrought with unpleasantries.” The demonic tutor felt a slight shiver course through his young pupil and his voice softened, losing the edge it held a few moments ago. “No. I cannot force this lesson on you. Nor would I ever try.” He looked Ciel over, noting the way he held himself, how his body had born such a harsh spanking, how the boy's eyes flashed at him. “To that end, the lesson shall not continue until you ask for it to.” The devil held his hand out knowing it would be a fair trick for the boy to walk anywhere with his rear reddened like that and his short trousers around his ankles. “Allow me to inspect that none of your wounds need attention, Young Master.” Ciel gave the proffered hand a withering glance. "I can manage on my own just fine." Bracing himself on the edge of the desk, he stepped out of his short trousers very carefully, one foot after the other; his behind stung and ached with every movement, and although he didn't like the idea of presenting it to his heartless tutor again, he couldn't very well see his own backside to inspect it himself - so he turned slowly toward the desk, his spine straight and proud, his shoulders quivering. "Be quick about it, I want to go lie down." “Of course, my lord.” The devil dropped to one knee behind the boy and let his eyes travel over Ciel's small form: his backside was a bright red, the skin having bloomed radiantly in the time they were talking; the tops of the boy's thighs bore the marks of Sebastian's crop, red stripes and small welts, and the demon was actually rather impressed at how well his little master hid his discomfort, as even his shirttails brushing over the warm skin must have been painful. Sebastian's hand hovered above the skin, feeling the warmth emanating from the boy; he cooled his fingers significantly, lifted the boy's shirt out of the way, and then with a touch softer than silk, slid them over Ciel's skin. Ciel gasped at the sudden contact, so light and cool; the devil's fingertips caressed his burning skin, drawing infinitely gentle circles over the tender surface. "Oh," he couldn't help saying in a barely-audible whisper. "What… what are you…?" Oh, the devil could be gentle if he chose. Sebastian's voice was a deep murmur as his cooling touch continued to glide over him: “I am ensuring my young master hasn't been seriously injured.” Those gentle fingers were once again ghosting over the welts on his thighs, and then with the boy's shirt held in his hand, he rubbed the small of his narrow back as well, skillfully prodding at the tense muscles there. A soft shiver ran down Ciel's spine as the demon's talented hands massaged and stroked and petted, his stiff back slowly relaxing into a slight curve, his throbbing buttocks twitching under Sebastian's tickling fingertips. "Ah!" His hand tightened around the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wood. "Ah… Seba…" Sebastian's lips curled into an iniquitous grin as he felt the imperious little creature begin to soften under his touch; his fingers slid over Ciel's skin and down his pale thighs, he let his nails graze the untouched skin of his master's legs, and then his hand trailed back upwards, slipping like cool satin over the sore flesh. His other hand slid up the boy's back, his hand releasing the hem of the shirt to slide beneath it. Sebastian's nails lightly trailed over each of Ciel's prominent vertebrae before his fingers once again went to work on the knotted muscles. Ah yes, my delightful little master, the flames have turned to embers. Though embers burn hotter, I find… The demon's soft, musical chuckle ghosted against the little lord. “Yes, Young Master?” Ciel's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the devil's teasing laughter, and he was also finding it difficult to catch his breath, for some reason. "Do you… mean to say that… you weren't paying attention… to the damage you were doing as -ah!- as you inflicted it?" His legs were threatening to buckle under him, so he bowed them inward and pressed his knees together, hoping he could hold himself up by force of sheer will alone. "Don't think… I don't know… you were looking at it the entire time. You've --oh!-- nothing to inspect… nnn!" The demon chuckled once more. “Young Master is astute.” Redundant as the inspection may have been, oh it was meticulous. Those smooth hands caressed, they slid and prodded, they gently squeezed and ever so softly kneaded the boy's abused flesh. “Perhaps I am just being thorough.” Sebastian arched a brow as his little lord sunk closer to the desk, his knees locked together to try and hold himself up; he would have liked to make his little master forget about the pain with more enjoyable activities, but that would have to wait, wait until he asked for it. The sounds Ciel was beginning to make had Sebastian curling his tongue around one lengthening tooth before wetting his lips once more, so the devil slid a hand beneath the boy's shirt and around his side, those long fingers teasingly stroking his stomach and whispering across his navel. Ciel sucked in a sharp breath and his abdominal muscles jerked reflexively; he heard Sebastian snicker, and decided that rather than give the evil bastard any ideas, he would simply steel himself against those wicked, playful fingers and not give his tutor the satisfaction of making him laugh. He was angry, damn it, and with good reason! Who did that insolent devil think he was, walloping him like a boy from the workhouse caught stealing? He had no right, the filthy-- Sebastian's breath ghosted over his tender skin, delightfully cold; although the demon's mouth was not touching him, he fancied he could feel those sinful lips, just a hair's breadth away; he forgot his anger momentarily and found himself leaning forward into the large, graceful hand sliding up over his sternum. "Se-- Sebastian--" Ciel's weight shifted and the devil felt him begin to lean into his ghosting touch. Sebastian's lips settled into a pleased smirk and he raised up on his bent knee. His voice was so very near to the Earl's soft pale skin, but not making contact. “Yes... my lord?” Black nails traced lightly over the boy's chest, tracing small circles on the skin; they danced up his breastbone and delicately scratched along his collarbones; he came precariously close to gliding over his little master's nipples, but purposefully avoided such contact. His other hand, having explored Ciel's rear quite completely, slid over the boy's thighs and down to his knees. What a proud and stern little thing he is, fighting not to give in! Sebastian felt the heat of his desire pulse beneath his skin with each small ah, each labored breath. It was a slowly pooling thing, and with great dark amusement he wondered if the fire in his veins would win out over the chill in his hands - and would his master yet have asked for his lesson to continue when it had. Ciel realized he was twisting his body ever so slightly, subconsciously trying to get Sebastian's hand to touch his nipple; the instant he did so, the heat rushed up into his face and ears and he was very, very glad he was facing away from those glinting, demonic eyes that saw through all his defenses and peered into his shame, his desires, his dreams, his soul. Careful fingers slid down over his thin, quivering thighs, caught hold of the drawers still bunched around his knees, and pulled them down to his ankles; a lock of the devil's hair brushed over Ciel's heated, sensitive buttocks, just the barest whisper of a touch, and the boy shuddered. Compounding his embarrassment was the fact that his cock was beginning to swell, and he was forced to hide it by leaning closer to the desk. "Ah… you… you… wanted this to happen… didn't you?" His voice was becoming as unsteady as his balance. "You enjoyed every-- oh!-- moment of that, didn't… you…?" Dark lashes brushed paper-white cheeks as Sebastian closed his eyes with a soft chuckle. The boy's body twisted ever so slightly in his grasp and he skillfully slid his fingers away from those sensitive nipples. “I never want my young lord to be burdened with extra work. Nor do I enjoy what such diversions do to the schedule.” He hovered behind Ciel, his whole body scant inches away, always so close to touching him, but never doing so with anything but those devilish fingers and the silken strands of his hair. That hand, light as a feather, fanned across the top of his thigh, fingers tracing along the seam where his legs were squeezed together; higher they climbed, ever so slowly, as his little pupil wavered and clutched the desk, then veered to the side, dark nails barely scratching over small hipbones. Sebastian's breath brushed against Ciel's behind, the small of his back. “I am sure I can make you more comfortable than leaning on the desk. If young master's legs are tiring...” Sebastian trailed off as a small cry left the boy's lips, his hand beginning to slide downward along one coltish, trembling leg. Ciel's breath hitched in his chest and he forced himself to remain still and unyielding. "That's not… ah… what I asked, and you know it!" He was sweating, his thighs becoming slippery as he pressed them together, his palms slick against the desk. "Ah… although I forbid you to lie to me, you're--oh!--you're still full of shit, Sebastian." He felt that delightfully cool breath again, found himself leaning forward unbidden to allow it access; his hand lost its grip and slid across the wood; he managed to catch his balance before he hurt himself, but the sudden backward shift of his hips had pushed him right into the very mouth he was trying to get away from. "Ah! Se--Seba--ah!" Cool kisses, as smooth and sweet as treacle and more soothing than any balm or salve, fell softly over his hot, tingling skin; he shivered and cried out, instinctively leaning down to put his chest flat against the desktop. "Ahh--!" Ah, there it is, Sebastian thought, and his eyes began to smolder slightly as the boy called his name; that wicked tongue began to dance over the reddened skin; he could feel the warmth against his lips, feel the way Ciel shivered as he cried out. The little Earl was collapsing against the desk, so the devil slid his hand from beneath the beguiling little creature and wrapped both around those small bare hips and held him steady as his lips moved over one soft buttock and then the other. He smirked against the heated skin, his voice laced with amusement. “I see you are going to have a rather blue vocabulary after today's lessons… very well then - in Latin, if you please.” He dropped another kiss against the tingling flesh, and then another as his fingertips brushed against the juncture of the boy's thighs. "Wh--What…? I don't… ah!" Sebastian's wet, velvety tongue, trailing over the sore, bruised skin until gooseflesh rose and the boy was trembling all over. "I… I can't… ah!" "In. Latin." the demon prompted, giving Ciel a gentle warning nip. "Ah! Ow! All right, all right! Er…" Delicate, feathery licks and kisses, dancing over his skin. "Stercus… no… ah…" Gentle hands squeezing his buttocks, parting them. "Plenus… ah! Plenus sterco--ah! Seba--!" That evil, impious tongue pressing into the cleft, teasing sensitive, hidden places that made Ciel squirm and gasp. "Ah--ah! Sebastian! You-- you ca-- ah!" "In. Latin." Wicked, tickling flicks of that cool tongue, the tip moving in long, maddening sweeps up and down the cleft, occasionally grazing the back of his scrotum. Ciel's hands curled into fists and he thumped the desk in frustration. "Ah, you bastard, you--you…! Irrumator! Plenus stercoris es! Ah!!" The devil chuckled at his frustration. “Very good, young master.” His fingers began to move, stroking the soft skin of the boy's thighs. As his tongue stroked and teased, his hands slid to ease Ciel's legs apart. The sight of his little earl collapsing himself on the desk with his hips jutted out so slatternly for the demon's attentions had his eyes turning to embers and his teeth elongating in his jaw. He felt the familiar sensation of his trousers becoming rather tighter and he chuckled against the velvety skin. “It seems I may have discovered a method in which your Latin lessons might hold firm.” His head dipped, hair brushing over the sensitive skin so that his tongue swirled against the underside of Ciel's buttock and he sucked on the soft skin where it met his thigh. "Shut up!" Ciel snapped, raising up onto tiptoe as the demon licked and kissed and tormented. "C-- Cludo! Nnn!" Low, mocking laughter rumbled against the inside of his thigh, cool breath ghosting over the back of his scrotum as his legs spread, almost of their own volition; he was giving in, falling apart, and he wasn't sure whom he was more angry with - his infernal butler and his clever mouth, or himself, for letting said butler and said mouth distract him from his righteous fury. Sweeping, tender kisses, Sebastian's smooth, satiny face so gloriously cool against his skin, gentle hands petting and caressing until Ciel could do nothing but lie there and whimper, pushing his hips back against that wonderful, terrible tongue. "Oh… ohhh, Seba-- oh…" "Delicias puer," Sebastian fairly purred. "Parum imperatorem…" A long, slow lick up the inside of the boy's thigh, a kiss as light as a snowflake against his reddened buttock. "I--I don't understand!" Ciel blurted, writhing on the desk as that mouth and those hands and that voice drove him half out of his mind. "Speak English, stupid demon! Not--ah!!--all of us were there for the fall of Jericho, you know! Normal humans don't speak Latin anymore!" True, he had caught the word puer - boy - but the rest of it was a mystery to him; and nothing irritated him more than being openly mocked as if he couldn't understand. More dark laughter, more feathery kisses, more nails against the boy's tender inner thighs, bringing him out in gooseflesh. “But you are doing so very well. Even your pronunciation has improved.” The demon licked and sucked the tender welted flesh, his cool, impossibly smooth lips pressing kisses to the skin. “Esculentus.” That velvety wet tongue slid along the curve of the little lord's other buttock. “Delicatus.” Talented, sinful fingers stroked the bare flesh of his inner thighs and traced idle patterns across his lower abdomen. “Lepidus.” Maddeningly slow strokes of that tongue along the cleft, tickling and teasing as Ciel pushed himself back against the devil's licentious mouth. He listened to the sounds spilling from that beautiful mouth; he felt his pupil shaking as he whimpered; Sebastian could practically taste the aggravation emanating from the boy. “No? Perhaps deliciosus then?” With a wicked little chuckle, the hellish tutor pressed his hot tongue against the back of the boy's scrotum. His hair tickled the insides of Ciel's thighs as he lapped and licked and used his hands to pull the beautiful little imp further against him with deep rumbling purrs vibrating against tender skin. "Shut up!" Ciel panted, resisting the urge to cover his ears. "Just shut up!" He hadn't understood much of what Sebastian had said, only one word, spoken in a voice that could melt butter: deliciosus. The demon had told him he was delicious, despite what he was doing, what he was licking, and poor Ciel was flustered and embarrassed beyond measure, blushing deeply and so hard he ached. "Filthy, lecherous, dirty-minded--ah!" Sebastian's tongue pushed into him and his legs finally gave out on him, sending him tumbling into the devil's arms in a heap. Chapter End Notes experientia docet = experience teaches irrumator = bastard plenus stercoris es = you are full of shit cludo = shut up delicias puer = darling/delightful boy parum imperatorem = little emperor esculentus/delicatus/lepidus/deliciosus = delicious ***** Revocatas a fortunae ***** Chapter Summary In which the demonic tutor learns a hard lesson. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes The demon laughed and then went back to his merciless teasing. His cock throbbed in his trousers, straining against the material, twitching with each of the heated breaths passing those perfect lips. His own lips curled at the corners in response to his master's embarrassed protests; the demon growled and his pupils narrowed to slits as Ciel cried out and collapsed into his arms - and oh, those arms were ready for him. He caught the boy up, strong agile hands sliding up his torso as the wobbly little creature fell back into his lap. He spread his fingers, stroking lightly, and an evil, musical chuckle seemed to pass right though his little master. Still refusing to bring contact and relief to those tiny pink nipples, his fingers slid down either side as he supported the child in his grasp. Ciel's thighs spread to either side of the demon's and Sebastian pulled him back against his chest. His head dipped and that hot, talented tongue traced the shell of his ear as those fingers seemed to touch everywhere across the porcelain skin – everywhere except those most sensitive and alluring places. Everywhere except where he was sure the boy wanted to be touched. Ciel wriggled atop Sebastian's solid thighs, fully aware of the hard ridge in the devil's trousers - he couldn't very well have missed it, as it was pressed up against his smarting behind and growing steadily harder and larger by the moment. "Se--Seba--ah…" His small hands came up to rest on the demon's forearms, silken skin cool against his sweating palms, lean muscles twitching and flexing beneath his fingers. "Mnnn… I… oh…" He was having trouble thinking, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Sebastian's lips on his ear, the scent of him, the low, seductive sound of his voice, the press of the demon's erection against him. "Oh… oh, Sebastian…" “Young... Master.” The dulcet tones of his voice were like velvet breathed into the boy's ear, stirring the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck; those small hands were like glowing sparks against Sebastian's arm and the slight weight of his little charge resting on him excited the devil. The boy was so small, so vulnerable, so hot and alive and so decadently delicious, like the sweet French pastries the delightful brat had forced him to perfect. That lewd tongue wrapped around the blue stone in the small Earl's ear as the devil sucked on the lobe; one hand trailed down the expanse of flushed skin, hitching with each of Ciel's breaths, and played about his pelvis. He could see his young master's cock, having hardened with his lascivious attentions, throbbing as his fingers came nearer, and once more his fingers stroked the silky skin on either side of the boy's hard length, never quite coming close enough. “Yes, my little lord...” he purred. "Sebastian, Sebastian…" Ciel was writhing in frustration by then, arching and wriggling and twisting into those cruel hands that always strayed so exasperatingly close to his most sensitive places and then moved away. He reached up with one arm and looped it behind the demon's neck, eager little fingers twisting in the glossy raven hair, his chest heaving as he pushed it forward; he felt he was making himself rather cheap for doing so, but it seemed necessary, if he were going to get Sebastian to do what he wanted without saying it outright. "Sebastian!" “Yes?” His lips parted and sucked in the skin where neck meets shoulder; his tongue swirled against the soft flesh, tasting salt of the boy's sweat; sharp teeth nipped him as the demon's aroused growl rumbled against his shoulder. Those little fingers twisting in his hair had the devil twitching against his young master, who was writhing so wantonly in his lap. “What is it you want, delicias puer?" Sebastian's wicked hand traced along Ciel's inner thigh and then those long fingers came to curl around his scrotum; he stroked and teased and his tongue licked wet heat along the little Earl's thin neck in time with his fingers stroking and petting the boy, still staying infuriatingly clear of touching his shaft. Little jolts of pleasure raced beneath the devil's skin each time the boy tugged his hair, ground his small body against his aching cock, and panted his name - and Sebastian wondered which of them the fire would consume first. Ciel bristled at the Latin term and gave Sebastian's hair a spiteful yank. "Ah! Stupid demon! Stupid, stupid…!" He tilted his head back, his open, gasping mouth hot against the underside of the devil's jaw; he pushed his chest out a bit more, rolling his hips back, pressing down against that thick, solid erection beneath him. "Ah," he panted, rocking back and forth despite the pain of putting his weight on his bruised behind. "Sebastian, Sebastian…" He felt the devil throb under him, felt the arms around him tighten ever so slightly, and he softened his tone to a sweeter, more coaxing one he hoped would be more effective in getting Sebastian to cooperate. "Sebastian… Sebastian… ahh…" The demon hissed between his teeth with the sudden harsh tug. He twitched sharply with arousal, the pain easily melding into pleasure as that gasping mouth pressed to his jaw. Oh how enticing this little creature was, writhing and begging in his lap with all things except those guarded words. Pearly fluid was dripping down Ciel's aching erection and the devil chuckled as he fought with his own want to run his fingers through it, swirl his thumb around the sensitive head, bring those slippery fingers to his mouth to taste his little master further. “You want me to continue, then?” Two fingers slid up the boy's chest. “Tell me so.” His hips rolled upwards, meeting Ciel's downward thrusts, and the dampness was beginning to show through his bulging trousers. “You shall have everything you ask for, cicaro,” he murmured in his deep, velvet voice, then chuckled wickedly and breathed against the boy's mouth, “Ask...” Ciel made a furious little sound of vexation and bit Sebastian's lower lip, grinding his hips downward hard - and then cried out in pain as his raw skin dragged across one of the demon's straining trouser-buttons. "Oh, for--!" he blurted in irritation, and fell silent, his expression very much like that of a sulking schoolboy. "Stupid demon," he muttered, scowling. “Vexing little brat,” Sebastian breathed softly back, running his tongue over his bitten lip. He gathered the boy in his arms and in one fluid motion, stood, took a few steps and settled himself into his chair, easing the boy onto his lap. Ciel's thighs spread to straddle the demon's lap again, his knees sliding between the devil and the chair arms. With his little master now facing him, Sebastian ran a hand down the side of his face, along his thin neck, and then down to the front of his fine shirt. Skilled fingers began slipping buttons from their holes, while the other ghosted over the still red and bruised bottom. “It isn't terribly difficult, Young Master.” Those glowing eyes looked into his young lord's flashing blue one. “Shall I show you how it is done?” "I don't know how you expect to do that," Ciel replied, folding his arms haughtily, "with your head so far up your own arse." Sebastian laughed and with a smirk tilted his head to the side. “In Latin, if you please, Young Master.” Ciel gritted his teeth, that blue eye flaring with icy rage. "Caput tuum in ano est!" he snapped, thumping Sebastian's chest with a small fist. "Oh, and do forgive me, Teacher, as I'm quite unsure how to say 'you foul, leering, unbearably smug piece of shit on the bottom of a farmer's boot' in Latin." The devil's eyes flashed with hellfire and his wicked smile showed his elongated teeth. “Well, that would be rather advanced.” Oh this boy, this fiery, proud, vexing, beautiful creature... Sebastian mused to himself before wrapping long fingers around Ciel's wrist.; he deftly pulled the strings dangling behind his little lord's head and slipped the eye patch from his face, then stared into those eyes, marveling at the marred beauty of them, of the willful strength swirling beneath the glassy surfaces. His voice was dark and silken and he pulsed and throbbed with the boy in his lap. “Omnia enim vestra sunt… everything is yours, My Lord.” Those long fingers wrapped about Ciel's hips and slid up to his chest once more, then stilled for a moment as an aroused growl passed his lips. “And you shall have all that you desire.” And before his irate little master could protest, those talented fingers finally brushed against those tiny pink nipples. Ciel gasped, his arms unfolding to clutch at Sebastian's shirt. "Ah… well, it certainly took you long enough," he panted, though there was no venom in his tone. "Stupid - ah! - demon…" He squirmed on the devil's lap, rocking his hips against him, pushing his thin little chest into those fingers that plucked and tweaked and stroked with all the mastery of a musician coaxing sweet sounds from his instrument - and oh, what sweet sounds the boy made! He moaned, he whimpered, he cursed, he panted and gasped and cried out, calling Sebastian's name over and over, having apparently forgotten his sulkiness once he'd been obliged. "Oh, Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian…!" Little fingers twisting into the demon's shirt, gripping his cravat; delicate thighs squeezing his legs; that small pink mouth open and wet and exhaling hot, sweet-scented breath that warmed Sebastian's face. "Ohhh, Sebastian--ah!" Sebastian chuckled. “Young Master was quite the skilled opponent.” Any more of the devil's witty retort was last to the rumbling in his chest as the delectable little thing squirmed and rocked in his lap. Lust pulsed through him as his eyes feasted on the soul burning before him: the brazen little creature rocked and whimpered, he panted and moaned, and then those little hands were twisting in his shirt, the boy's delicate fingers brushing against his own hard nipples beneath the pressed cotton. “Young Master,” he purred, rolling his hips upward in time with the writhing of the little earl. He growled softly and dipped his head, swallowing the syllables of his name as pressed his lips to Ciel's in a hungry kiss. Those talented fingers continued to roll and pinch and stroke, coaxing the boy higher into his lap, driving him to further rock his hips in time with the devil’s. He pulled back slightly, nipping and then running his tongue over the boy's lips; he wrapped long fingers around one of Ciel’s wrists and reached his small hot hand down his body, placing it on the rather damp, twitching bulge in his trousers. His sinful tongue lapped at Ciel's lip again before he purred: “Quite a skilled opponent.” Ciel laughed, and it was a wicked, wicked sound. "Of course." He leaned forward to lick and suck the smooth skin of the devil's throat, one hand kneading the achingly hard erection rubbing against him, the other sliding beneath Sebastian's waistcoat to tease his nipple through his perfectly-starched shirt. "I don't like to lose at games, Sebastian. You know that." One small fingertip circled the head of Sebastian's cock, coaxing more fluid through the already- damp wool of his trousers. "Veni, vidi, vici." “No, of course you don't.” Sebastian’s head tilted back as he felt that warm, wet tongue slide along his throat; his hips rolled into that small hand, and when his cock was teased by the boy's fingertip, he hissed with pleasure between his overly pointed teeth. “Do you intend to conquer me then, Young Master?” he chuckled; one hand ceased its torment of Ciel's nipple, then slid down his chest, nails scratching along the skin and tracing over ribs. Sebastian's soft fingers stroked the bare flesh of his pelvis, the soft skin of his inner thighs, and as the boy squeezed around his lap, he wrapped that devilish hand around his dripping cock. He stroked his little contractor once, twice, and then slid his fingers along the throbbing length, slipping through the pearly fluid dripping down the sides. His thumb rubbed over the sensitive head and then slid down the underside and rubbed the slick wetness into his scrotum. The devil's lips curled at the corners and he looked into that beautifully wicked impish face. “Another game then, Young Master?” Ciel chuckled. "I've already conquered you, demon." He gasped softly as Sebastian's hand gently stroked him, then sat up to look into the devil's face with sparkling, mischievous eyes. "Shall I - ah! - demonstrate?" At Sebastian's querying expression, he added with a little smirk: "I do think another game might do you some good." Sebastian watched something wholly wicked flicker through the boy's eyes. They sparkled and it was with perverse delight he watched Ciel's face blossom into a delicious smirk. The demon's brow arched with curiosity and amusement and he squeezed and stroked the boy's dripping cock with long, deliberately slow movements. “Oh, do demonstrate, parum imperatorem,” he chuckled. “For I find I am so eager to play with you again.” The boy's teasing smirk spread into an evil grin that showed his pearly little teeth. "Good." He took hold of Sebastian's hands and placed them firmly on the armrests of the chair. "Now stay," he commanded, in exactly the same tone he would've used with a dog, then climbed down to kneel on the floor between the devil's feet. A rare look of surprise crossed the devil's face; the enchanting little wretch was even more beguiling with a look of pure gleeful evil on his face, and now he had been commanded to ‘stay’. The demon's brow arched as he watched Ciel slide to the floor, his cock throbbing from the boy sliding over him, straining at the trouser buttons even further. His hands remained firmly on the arms of the chair while his gaze followed his little lord's every move, and he watched those mismatched eyes gleam with mischief. “Yes, My Lord.” Oh, this was about to prove challenging – one did not enter into a game with the Earl of Phantomhive lightly, and the devil chuckled with delight at the prospect. Small, clever hands slid languidly up the inside of Sebastian's legs, fingers squeezing lightly here and there; he pushed the devil's thighs further apart, massaging higher and higher; he leaned in close and laid a feather-light trail of kisses along the inseam of Sebastian's trousers, traveling upward toward the juncture of his thighs. He heard the demon's breath hitch slightly, and as Ciel's cruel little mouth came to rest over the row of trouser-buttons, he giggled, vibrating the hard ridge beneath the cloth. Sebastian watched the child settle upon the floor and expertly press those small hands to the insides of his thighs. He mused at how well he took to some lessons so much more so than others and chuckled softly. His breath hitched and lust pooled beneath his skin as he was keenly aware of those soft kisses and the position of that boy's small, merciless mouth. What a cleverly cruel litt— "Nng!" The devil's thought was driven from his mind and he groaned; his arousing little master teased him mercilessly, and the devil was reminded how skilled this child was in the game of revenge. He closed his eyes, squeezing the arms of the chair lightly as he worked to get himself back under control – but the contract mark on his hand pulsed and his cock ached in its cloth prison, and when he looked down into that face and Ciel looked up through his lashes, all innocence and deviousness with his marred eye glowing, Sebastian felt himself grow harder and the dampness in his trousers increased. "Why, Sebastian," Ciel purred, blinking his wide, guileless eyes. "You seem rather… tense. Is something the matter?" “Whatever gave you that idea?” For the devil, it was a wholly unconvincing performance. “Truthfully, Young Master, my trousers are a bit uncomfortable at the moment.” "Are they?" Ciel gasped, as if he hadn't seen the cloth straining around the demon's cock, the gaps between the overworked buttons of his flies. "My, that must be more and more unpleasant as time goes on… rather like writing lines - or poems - for hours." His ruthless little hands cupped the bulge, rubbed it, squeezed it, massaged it. "Rather unpleasant indeed." His spiteful lips kissed the damp spot on the wool and came away shiny with fluid that his pink tongue eagerly licked away, his gaze still locked with his butler's. Sebastian's brow arched, finding Ciel's surprise about as convincing as his own prior performance. His eyes smoldered and his breathing was heavy and uneven. The demon couldn't help but appreciate the thorough reversal of fortune his master had orchestrated when not an hour ago he was bent over his lap having his rear end reddened. This boy, this irascible, vexing, tormenting, esculentus creature still surprised the ancient fiend and that fact had him gritting his teeth in an effort to maintain what was left of his composure. Sebastian had lost interest in inferior souls long ago and there had never been one who could so ensnare, beguile, irritate and excite the demon. His glowing eyes never left Ciel's; he watched the contract seal pulse and his cock throbbed in tandem, straining and aching for those small hot hands, those deceptively innocent lips and that wet pink tongue. “Indeed, my lord,” he labored between gritted teeth, his long canines glinting in the light and his hands holding tight to the arm rests as leverage to keep his hips from rolling. Ciel’s cunning eyes glimmered mischievously, and he slid a probing finger into the gap between two of Sebastian’s straining trouser-buttons. “You must be quite uncomfortable,” he purred, the soft little pad of his fingertip stroking the pulsing vein that ran the length of the devil’s shaft. “You poor, wretched beast.” The corner of his mouth curled up into an evil half-smile. “Whatever shall I do to help you? …If anything at all, that is.” Oh, the clever little beast. Sebastian's tongue slipped between his lips, licking them; he twitched and throbbed and felt himself growing wetter, darkening his trousers. “Yes, indeed it is,” his voice low and heavy with arousal. The demon's brow arched and he almost laughed at the intoxicating smile creeping onto the boy's face. Oh, he was enthralling. “It would be a rather short game if you were to do nothing at all, would it not? No lesson learned?” His eyes gleamed, two dark rubies glowing from behind his spectacles. “You are a most apt pupil, my ruthless little Lord. I am sure you have an idea...” Sebastian growled lowly, feeling the maddeningly soft stroking against his heated skin. “Hmmm…” Ciel tugged at the buttons until they gave, one by one, freeing Sebastian’s length inch by excruciating inch. “I suppose I could probably devise some method of relieving your… discomfort… but as you so astutely surmised, if the lesson ends too quickly, you won’t have learnt your lesson properly.” Pulling the last button open, he wrapped his small hands around the devil’s stiff, twitching cock and freed it from the cloth; his mismatched eyes widened slightly, sparkling with delight and greed; and when he looked up again at his butler’s face, his brows tilted into a wicked slant, he caught and held Sebastian’s gaze and said in a cruel, commanding voice: “Therefore, no matter what I do, no matter how good it feels, you will not spend unless I allow it – that’s an order! Is that understood, demon?” One ruthless little hand stroked the dripping shaft ever so slightly, the opposite one sliding through the dark, wiry hair at the base. Sebastian's eyes glowed as he watched those little fingers with predatory scrutiny. How he ached as he was slowly released from the cloth prison, and the relief of being free was soon replaced with the sweet torment of feeling those hot little hands wrapped about him. His back stiffened, his long fingers wrapping more fully about the armrests of the chair. His arousal throbbed through his body and when the boy looked up at him he stared into those mismatched eyes and watched his seal glow and pulse. His long canines rested against his bottom lip, mouth open in a sinful approximation of a smile. “I..” The demon's eyes widened slightly taking in Ciel's face, the weight of his order pressing into the demon's skin. His eyes blazed and he felt the seal on the back of his hand burn intensely and it did nothing at all to calm the demon's excitement; his hard length bobbed under the teasing attention, and with his teeth gritted, he chuckled at the implications, the pure devious cruelty of the order. When he opened his mouth to answer, his breath was ragged and uneven. “Yes, My Lord.” Ciel’s own mouth quirked, showing a flash of his pearly little teeth as his lips parted in something that was half grin, half sneer. “Good dog.” His pitiless hands slid up and down Sebastian’s cock, covering them in slippery fluid; he bent down a bit closer and lapped kittenishly at the underside of the shaft, rained deceptively sweet little kisses along the now-prominent veins, looked up through shy lashes as he pressed his soft pink lips to the sensitive frenulum. “Does it feel good, Sebastian?” he asked, in the innocent choirboy voice he knew drove the devil half mad with desire. “Do you like it when I put my mouth here?” The devil's brow arched and quivered as he called upon his great age and considerable experiences to rein in his control. The unfazeable wretch was in danger of coming apart, his teacher facade, his human mask shattering beneath the feather soft touches of that boy. “Yes, “ he breathed and his chest rumbled as his heavy breaths fell from his lips. Sebastian ran his tongue against the back of his fangs, his mind supplying him with the image of sinking those white canines into the boy's pale shoulder as he licked and sucked and wound fingers through his hair. He quaked in the chair bound by the boy's will, responding in earnest unable to lie. “Etiam, in ore tuo,” he purred, looking into those devious little eyes and feeling the boy's warm sweet breath wash over his dripping cock. “Yes, Young Master, There is nothing like the feel of your mouth, of your tongue.” Ciel rubbed circles over the tiny slit leaking salty-sweet fluid, teasing it with feathery touches until glistening strings clung to his fingertip and dripped down the sides of Sebastian’s cock in eager rivulets; he brought the finger to his mouth and closed his pouting lips around it, licking and sucking at it with quiet moans of pleasure, then met his trembling butler’s gaze again before withdrawing it, his tongue appearing briefly to childishly lick away the remainder from his lips, like a small boy sampling from the bowl of cake batter. “Mmm,” he hummed appreciatively as he swirled his fingertip over the slit again to collect another sample. ”Deliciosus.” Sebastian made a soft groaning sound, the arms of the chair creaking as his hands clutched at them more tightly. “Ah, ah, ah,” Ciel scolded lightly, giving the head of the devil’s cock a vicious little flick. “I like that chair – don’t you dare break it!” He watched in sadistic glee as Sebastian’s eyes flared with anger and frustration… and then he bent down and closed his hot, wet mouth around that sensitive, stinging head, humming softly, his maddening tongue flexing against the devil’s aching flesh. A tiny spurt of salty-sweetness hit the roof of the Earl’s mouth and he withdrew, sitting back on his heels to regard Sebastian, who was openly perspiring and looking quite harassed. “Why, Sebastian,” the boy crooned, licking his fingers, “you seem rather tense – are you quite all right?” Sebastian hissed through his teeth, frustration and desire melding with the stinging pain; his legs stiffened on either side of the boy as his feet pressed firmly into the floor; and with great deliberate effort, he loosened his fingers, releasing the arms of the chair and letting his hands rest upon them as elegantly as possible with his aching cock trapped in that wicked mouth. He wanted to be free of this order to sit and remain still, to descend upon the boy with all the haste of a sinner heading to church on Sunday faced with the promise of salvation; to devour his lips and probe that hot teasing mouth; to roll him to his knees and pin his small wrists together with one hand stretched before him and sheath himself completely, again and again, until his cruel little master quaked and cried with pleasure so complete that the devil's name would be nothing more than broken syllables. His lips curled a little too much, his eyes glowed fiercely, and his dark, honeyed voice was uncharacteristically strained. “I am... heightened... Young Master.” “Ohhh, is that the term for what you are, Sebastian?” Ciel began licking the devil’s cock as if it were a melting ice-cream, working from the base upward along the length to the head, which he teased with the very tip of his tongue, swirling it around the glans until Sebastian was exhaling short, broken growls with every breath and the boy’s mouth was dripping. “I could think of better words,” the Earl panted, his hot mouth coaxing still more salty sweetness from the demon’s cock, his clever hand beginning to slide up and down the shaft, squeezing none too gently. “Vile. Evil. Loathsome. Devil. Demon. Monster.” Ciel’s face was flushed, his heartrate increasing with every luscious droplet he swallowed, his small cock hardening until it too was dripping. “Killer. Servant. Slave. Dog.” He looked up into those blazing hellfire eyes, his gaze ruthless, his voice cruelly sweet. ”Mine.” Without another word, he took as much of Sebastian’s cock into his mouth as he could, bobbing his head up and down without mercy, his slick fingers locking together around the pulsating shaft. The anticipation was tortuous; the demon growled and shivered, hissing with pleasure as the boy's icy words evaporated against his heated skin. So good! His devious little contractor was a masterful study and Sebastian was impressed, even surprised at just how well Ciel had learned how to undo him. The boy's voice was possessive, that need to lay claim to his demon reflecting perfectly in those hellfire eyes, mirrored by the devil's utter fascination. Sebastian moaned a beautiful inhuman sound as his cock disappeared past wet pink lips, his head leaned back against the chair as his back arched. Those long elegant fingers were tipped with black claws and he fought to not dig them into the arms of the chair. He was so aroused it was painful, and that in itself fed his desire as he rolled his hips slowly into that decadent mouth. Ciel bobbed his head a little faster, squeezed his hands a little tighter around Sebastian’s shaft – and when the demon began thrusting, he withdrew abruptly, causing the tormented butler to mutter something in a language that was surely not human and roll his head against the backrest of the chair. Ciel paused to admire the way Sebastian’s cock throbbed and twitched, the normally pale skin flushed with blood, the head dark and shining with the lubricant that flowed impatiently from the tip. Oh, how handsome that demon could be – that annoying, arrogant, mocking, beautiful devil who irritated Ciel beyond measure and pleasured him beyond all words! “Hmm,” the boy mused, licking his lips subconsciously; he reached up and put a hand into Sebastian’s waistcoat-pocket and took out the little vial of almond oil the butler carried with him, then uncorked it as Sebastian watched him with wild, burning eyes. He poured a bit of the oil over his own hand, then laid back on the floor, his legs spread wide, and carefully slid one tremulous finger into himself; his face was hot with shame, and he tried hard not to look away from Sebastian’s desirous stare, but after a handful of seconds he was forced to turn his head and hide from those keen demonic eyes that blazed with hunger and lust. “Do… do you… like watching me?” the Earl asked, his voice much less strident than it had been previously. “Are you… are you wishing… my hand were yours, doing this?” His ears stung with embarrassment and his fair skin flushed from his hairline all the way down to his delicate collarbones, his finger sliding in and out in a way that somehow managed to be both innocent and absolutely filthy at the same time. “Do you… do you want to be the one to do this, demon?” Sebastian was slipping, he could feel it. He felt the pupils of his eyes narrow, the bottomless black slits devouring and swallowing the image presented before him. His black heart thudded against his ribcage and the only sound he was conscious of besides the blood thrumming in his ears was his impudent little master's licentious words spoken in such an innocent voice. If he had been at will to do so, he might have spent right then and there, seeing Ciel, his steely little lord, splayed on the floor before him with his thighs spread wide and his small finger sliding in and out of himself. He was not, however, and he practically vibrated with how ravenous he was for the boy. “I devour the sight of you.” Sebastian leaned forward in the chair and it creaked as his tightly-strung body struggled to pounce on his prey, yet remain seated where he was ordered to stay. “I would do that, and so much more,” he growled, the words sliding off his tongue like so much honey into a warm cup of milk, creamy and pale like Ciel's skin. Sebastian's brow arched and the demon set his fangs against his bottom lip as the softest of black feathers fell and landed beneath his chair and he nearly moaned, “Yes... Young Master. Yes.” “Ah!” Ciel arched upward, lifting his hips from the floor, and eased in a second finger; he realized after a few strained moments that he was likely to dislocate his shoulder if he kept on in that way, so he withdrew his hand, rolled over onto his knees, poured more oil over his fingers, and reached back to insert them again, dropping his chest to the floor. “Oh… oh!” I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought, his face so hot he half expected it to melt right off. I’m the Earl of Phantomhive, the Queen’s Watchdog, not some low-born brothel slattern! I should not be crawling on the floor, doing such obscene things! I must stop this right now – I will not degrade myself in front of— He looked over his shoulder, and the thought simply vanished. Sebastian was still sitting in the chair, as ordered, his eyes like beacons of hellfire beneath the fringe of dark hair that shadowed them; his entire body was as tense as a piano wire, quivering with anticipation and longing; his fingernails had grown out into two-inch claws, as sharp as a raptor’s talons; his cock was dripping all over his open trousers and even down onto the carpet, glistening threads reaching from the seat cushion to the Persian rug Ciel was lying on; and most striking of all, soft black feathers were strewn around him as if they’d fallen from thin air, like hellish snowflakes. He was beautiful and terrible and arousing and terrifying and in that moment, Ciel realized that this ancient, powerful demon wanted nothing more than him. “Ah! Sebastian!” he cried, pushing in a third finger. “Sebastian!” “Nnng--” It wasn't quite a growl, not quite a moan. The sound that escaped the demon was dark and melodic and dangerous; it was choked with his fevered desire to cover his small master with enough force to drive his hips flush with the floor if his taloned fingers were not wrapped around him covetously. Then, his name coupled with Ciel's short cries reached his ears and every fiber of him strained to answer the call. He was bound to the chair though and the Faustian mark etched in the back of his hand throbbed and burned and sent waves of intense heat through his limbs, reminding him of his inability to move, held steadfast with an order, and echoing the blind pleasure throbbing through both himself and his lascivious little master. “Yes,” he growled in response, “Yes, Young Master!” “Fu—futuere!” Ciel gasped, thrusting those three unsatisfyingly small fingers in and out, in and out, his cock painfully hard. “Futuere a… a tergo!” When Sebastian remained where he was, the boy threw his pride out the window and cried, “Come here, Sebastian! Come here, I command you!” Released from his previous order in light of the new one, Sebastian descended on the boy, all too eager to obey. Chapter End Notes delicias puer - darling/delightful boy cicaro - darling/pet/cosset caput tuum in ano est - your head is in your ass omnia enim vestra sunt - everything is yours veni, vidi, vici - I came, I saw, I conquered parum imperatorem - little emperor esculentus/deliciosus - delicious etiam, in ore tuo - yes, in your mouth futuere a tergo - fuck from behind the next chapter is the last one! ***** Carpe puer ***** Chapter Summary In which the greatest risks yield the best rewards. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes He slid from the chair in one gliding motion and over the ragged panting was the subtle sound of rustling feathers. His long hard body stretched over the small Earl's and he leaned down to whisper hotly against Ciel's ear: “Yes, my beautiful, cruel little master.” Sebastian's long fingers intertwined with one of the boy's small hands, pinning it to the floor beside his flushed panting face; the other yanked Ciel’s shirt up to his shoulders and reached around the boy’s trembling body, those clawed fingers tracing faint red lines over his pale ribcage and across his chest. He felt the boy shudder, heard small cries leave his throat, and when he took a quivering breath, the demon rolled one hard pink nipple between his taloned fingers. Ciel's body was so sensitive and Sebastian was so tenuously holding onto his control, onto his form, his dripping cock smeared pearlescent fluid across the boy's thighs and the throbbing head, flushed purple and so hard it ached, nudged those small fingers as they thrust so enticingly, in and out and in again. Ciel withdrew his hand again, his upper body twisting to allow him to reach back far enough to touch the devil’s cock; wrapping his oil-slicked fingers around the pulsing shaft, he stroked it until it was well-coated, loving the ragged growling sounds Sebastian made as he did so. “Sebastian, Sebastian,” he breathed, gently guiding the demon to his entrance, his small hand stroking over the dripping tip and then over himself again in invitation. ”Intus…” The devil's sharp teeth glinted in a handsome inhuman grin and the flushed head of his throbbing cock bobbed and twitched in the boy's hand. The invitation was lewd and clever and so inexplicably arousing. Sebastian leaned over the boy and dropped hot wet kisses on the back of his neck as he slid into that welcoming, velvety heat. He shivered as Ciel's small fingers stroked along either side of his shaft as he did so and a long, drawn-out groan vibrated through his whole being. The little Lord responded with a small cry and then a wavering moan as Sebastian sheathed himself completely. The devil rolled his hips and leaned back on his knees, long fingers sliding along the little master's sides until he had both hands wrapped around his narrow waist. “Vexing,” he growled as he thrust forward, “cruel,” his voice ragged and heavy and so full of desire, “beautiful,” he withdrew so the tip of his cock was barely contained before sliding back in even deeper, “intoxicating little master,” he panted as the urgency of his thrusting increased, seeking Ciel's most pleasurable places. ”Ah!” Ciel’s hands clawed at the carpet, trying to find purchase to steady himself as the demon’s powerful thrusts drove him forward; he was moaning, gasping, feeling himself stretching to accommodate Sebastian’s thick length even as he rocked his hips back and tried to take more in. “Sebastian!” he cried, his voice raw and broken. “Sebastian, Sebastian!” The sweet pleasured cries; the sound of those perfectly manicured nails scratching at the carpet; the way his name became an unholy hymn when it came from that wicked little mouth sent jolts of pleasure through the devil's straining body. He thrummed with arousal, his rough, growling breaths seemed to come from all around them as they echoed in the boy's ears; Sebastian arched his back, sheathing himself to the hilt and a dangerously inhuman noise left him as his body slid along his small master’s. He covered Ciel completely, something akin to a snarl tearing its way from his throat; he licked and sucked and left bruising kisses across the boy's shoulder blades, unable to get enough of the taste of him. The demon's need to hear his master cry out, to feel his climax, to relieve the aching, hungry desire coursing through him was maddening, and his deep thrusts became almost frenzied; he felt the decadent little imp below him rocking back to meet his thrusts, little ahs escaping him each time his hips slapped against that soft, rounded rear, so hot and reddened; the boy's knees rubbed against the Persian carpet as Sebastian pounded into him, and when the demon's sinful mouth found that pale flushed neck, he nipped and licked his way to the little Earl’s ear. He managed one word and it was almost musical, carrying with it a tone no human could possess: “Mine.” The devil rocked forward hard as his hands slid down Ciel’s thin, trembling arms, his sharp black nails reaping red rows across the boy’s porcelain skin. Thought had fled Sebastian and his awareness consisted of Ciel and Ciel alone: his voice, the way his muscles clenched around the demon's shaft, how his small body moved beneath him, the quickened pace of his heart, and though he couldn't see it, he could feel that flowing, intoxicating pulse of his seal in that beautiful marred eye. His long fingers laced with the boy's and Sebastian pulled those little arms out in front of him, pinning them to the carpet, forcing Ciel's chest to the ground, each merciless thrust rubbing those hard, sensitive nipples against the scratchy fibre of the rug. Trapped beneath Sebastian’s body, Ciel could do nothing but squeeze his fingers a bit tighter around the devil’s and hold on; he was sure to have rug burn afterward, but he found he did not care, given that what Sebastian was doing to him felt so incredibly good that it overshadowed the sting of the abraded skin on his knees and chest. He raised his head a bit and saw the demon’s hands wrapped around his, the lethal black talons leaving small cuts in the carpet, and a shiver ran down his spine, culminating in an inadvertent shudder of a squeeze around Sebastian’s cock. The sound he got in response was so guttural, so bestial, so unearthly that he nearly cried out in fear – but then Sebastian was nuzzling his ear, purring something in some demonic language that made his head spin and his body flush with heat… and then those strong arms released his hands to wrap around him, and the devil rolled them over to one side, never losing his rhythm. Sebastian’s hand gripped the inside of Ciel’s thigh and lifted his leg, fucking the boy so hard he could scarcely breathe; Ciel reached up with one arm and clung to the back of Sebastian’s neck, shattered syllables of the demon’s bestowed name spilling from his lips; wailing with pleasure, he finally stopped fighting with his own mind and allowed himself to give in, allowed himself to enjoy it fully, allowed himself to willingly submit to the devil and the hellish ecstasy he offered. “Seba—Se—Sebas—“ The words would not form; his vision blurred; he turned his head to the side and Sebastian’s mouth crashed down over his, those wolf-like teeth nicking his lower lip and sending blood trickling down his neck in rivulets; the brutal kiss broke and the demon was lapping up the blood, his hot, wicked tongue stroking over the soft, vulnerable place below the boy’s jaw where his pulse raced. ”Ve—Velocior!” Ciel managed to gasp, grabbing a fistful of Sebastian’s hair and pulling at it roughly. “Sebastian! Velocior!” Sebastian felt the last remaining restraints the boy put on himself fall away and it drove his madness further; his eyes blazed with unholy hellfire and it was a frightful and beautiful sight. He lapped at the perspiration, felt Ciel's pulse hammering beneath his tongue, and when that little hand yanked roughly at his hair like one might try and rein in a disobedient horse, he responded. Sebastian's burning eyes widened with the pleasurepain and his talon-tipped fingers wrapped around the boy's jaw, stroking his cheek almost tenderly, and it was in stark contrast to the rough, bestial, quickening pace of his thrusts. “Perii!” the devil purred against his skin, a raw, enthralling sound, and curled his body fully around the boy’s. Sebastian was tilting Ciel's head, fully exposing his pale, slender neck and worshiping it with his tongue and his eager, starving mouth. Small bruises bloomed in the wake of his attention like the wicked path of sin leading the innocent astray; the harsh kisses trailed down the boy’s neck and over his trembling shoulder. “Perii!” Sebastian growled, and sank those two elongated canines into the boy's milky, alluring flesh. Ciel’s entire body stiffened and a strangled cry escaped him; Sebastian’s teeth were so sharp that the bite didn’t really hurt very much, but as the blood drained from him, the room began to whirl, his heart was pounding in his ears… and then the devil released his leg to reach down and stroke Ciel’s cock, and the boy climaxed over that clawed hand, his entire body thrumming, his cursed eye so bright it almost hurt. ”Sebastian!!” The world melted away as the pleasure tore through Ciel in wave after crashing wave; there was nothing except Sebastian and him and an endless black ocean of ecstasy that swallowed him whole and drowned his reason. Sebastian, he thought dimly, giving his blood, his pleasure, his pain, his trust to the unholy creature drinking him down like a fine wine. Sebastian… Oh it was lovely, it was sinful, it was carnal, and the way in which Ciel surrendered to him was itself so innocent that the devil was on the verge of losing what was left of his rational thought. His body ached and pulsed and the white-hot pleasure raced from the Faustian mark through his veins like molten gold; Sebastian sucked at the boy's shoulder, his tongue dancing against the skin, and everything he was in that moment, shadows and desire, lust and hellfire, the instrument of his master's pleasure - all sought release. He desired nothing more than to let the inferno raging inside of him overflow into that velvety heat, and as Ciel's body shook in his arms, his muscles clenched around Sebastian's shaft so tightly that the demon could scarcely do more than groan in pleasure against the boy's bitten shoulder. He stroked his little master once, twice, three times more - but with each velvety motion of his hand, Ciel squeezed him more tightly, and the devil was teetering at the edge of climax. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in frustration, his inhuman self control at its limit, and his master's wicked voice echoed in his mind: No matter what I do, no matter how good it feels, you will not spend unless I allow it – that’s an order! With a growl, the demon reluctantly pulled out, his long fingers wrapping about his own length, squeezing to keep from disgracing himself as ragged breaths shook him. Ciel felt as if he were floating, drifting in space; his body felt languid and drugged, his mind quiet; and as he rolled bonelessly over onto his back, he opened his eyes about halfway and saw Sebastian kneeling beside him, his clothing in disarray, his handsome features contorted into a snarling, demonic mask of tension. Puzzled, he lay there for a few moments, enthralled, watching the devil’s glowing, mercurial eyes as they shimmered and swirled; Sebastian made a short, sudden sound – something like a cross between a growl and a huff of irritation – and squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away. The thrall broken, Ciel looked down and saw Sebastian’s hand as it gripped his twitching shaft; he held the sensitive head between his clawed thumb and forefinger, pinching it savagely as fluid trickled between his fingers and dripped onto the rug. “Why…?” he began, and then he remembered. Oh, my stupid demon of a butler, obeying my orders even as you struggle with your own painful desire. Just look at you. A small, pleased smile curved his lips, and he reached out to Sebastian with both arms, his eyes full of pride and amusement. My loyal, faithful dog, my beautiful devil, my perfect death. Mine, until the end. “Come here, Sebastian,” he said, in a much softer, kinder tone than was his custom to direct at his butler, those thin little arms opening to receive him. “Come into me again.” Sebastian's lowered head turned back towards his master and his eyes opened slowly, deliberately, as if any action required great concentration; he gazed through black lashes at the near-otherworldly vision before him: Ciel reaching for him with open arms, his intoxicating voice soft – sweet, even – and the boy's body shone with perspiration, droplets of semen splashed across his thighs, those mismatched eyes shining. Yet he was not otherworldly, he was a mortal human with an intensity, a purity about him that the devil longed to corrupt, a beauty that could not be put into words, a soul the likes of which the demon had never known in his long, long existence. Sebastian gladly accepted the boy’s offer, coming into his inviting arms and sliding between his parted thighs; the devil’s breathing still came in uneven gasps and he almost seemed to be vibrating with the sensations pulsing beneath his skin; his tongue traced over his lips, tasting the fine sweet spice that was Ciel's blood on his tongue. Releasing his grip on his aching erection, he laid down, his flushed body resting atop his little master’s, and he shivered as he felt those thin arms embrace him. Never breaking his gaze with Ciel, he rolled his hips forward and slid into the boy once more, stilling as he made a rumbling sound that was partially a purr and partially a choked sound of restraint; his overly long canines pierced his bottom lip slightly as he regained enough control over himself to begin moving his hips again, slower than before, moaning each time those tight muscles squeezed around him. “Sebastian,” Ciel moaned softly, raising his legs to run his small stocking- feet over the back of Sebastian’s thighs. “Ohhh, Sebastian…” The demon lowered his head to kiss him, and Ciel could taste the blood on his lip; it wasn’t coppery like human blood, it was rich and sweet with a sort of spicy hotness, like the gourmet pepper-chocolate he’d tried once – but whereas he had quite disliked the chocolate, Sebastian’s blood tasted exotic and alluring, an unholy elixir that tingled and burned and made the boy long for more. He wound his fingers into the demon’s hair and held on as that thick cock slid in and out, in and out, in and out, long, sweeping strokes that reached deep inside Ciel’s welcoming body, filling him to the very edge of his tolerance, and still Sebastian kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him. The heat spread through Ciel’s body as he licked up droplet after crimson droplet, and although something in the more rational part of his brain was telling him that he was doing an incredibly disgusting and taboo thing – drinking his butler’s blood! – it was overwhelmed by the pleasure and the sheer power he felt at taking such evil into himself. “Sebastian,” he panted against the devil’s open mouth. “More… give me more…” And just like that, Sebastian bit his own lower lip again and Ciel was lost in the madness of the demon’s bloody kiss, an unrepentant sinner drinking from the chalice of the damned. Sebastian moaned deeply, erotically as he moved against the boy; the sensation of those small plumped lips sucking at his own bitten lip, licking and devouring him, sent chills through his masquerade of a human form. It was almost too pleasurable and the feral haze cleared from his mind as he focused intently on the hands in his hair, the boy's tongue on his lips, and the way little cries escaped him each time the devil thrust into him. You are mine, he thought, and you are lost to all save me. Take me into you, open yourself to me, and I will fill you from the inside, make you mine over and over until your soul is branded with me. Sebastian's arms wound around him, pulling him closer, sealing himself even more fully against Ciel's willing body; he growled as he arched into him, the pleasure mounting again, driving him towards a release he wasn't sure he could delay a second time. Hearing the devil’s growls becoming more and more guttural and desperate, feeling that thick shaft swelling and twitching within him, Ciel broke the kiss and laughed softly, a rare, gentle laugh that held no mockery, only amused delight. Pulling Sebastian down closer with both hands, he cradled the demon’s head in the still-bleeding crook of his neck and shoulder and whispered into his ear: “Yes, Sebastian, it’s all right – you’ve obeyed my orders perfectly, and so I shall give my servant a reward.” His inner muscles squeezed the demon’s shaft; his body rose up in gooseflesh; his own cock throbbed, hard again; and as he lifted Sebastian’s head again to look into those fiery storm- cloud eyes, he murmured, “Go on, Sebastian – fill me with you.” The demon's breathing hitched as he stared into those mismatched eyes, looking deep into his little contractor, and he swelled with such possessiveness, such ravenous hunger for the boy; his hips rocked forward and his lips dripped rubies onto Ciel's mouth as he leaned down and whispered raggedly, “Yes, My Lord.” Sebastian smiled, and such a thing should have been terrifying, but his lips curled at the corners as they always had and he sealed his mouth over Ciel's; his deep, throaty groan mixed with the wavering cry he received in return, and his tongue plundered the boy's mouth, tasting his sweetness and the devil's own blood. Those strong arms tightened around Ciel and Sebastian's entire body thrummed with tension; he rocked and twitched and it took only moments for the sensation to overwhelm him, for that sweet voice to fully release him from his control. His thighs quivered, his eyes ignited beneath his closed lids and his release was a splendid, violent, shuddering thing; spurt after spurt, his seed filled Ciel and his hips continued to move as his master's muscles squeezed every drop from him; and before he had finished, he was dripping out of the boy around his own throbbing length. Ciel felt a delicious warmth spreading throughout his body, bringing every nerve to tingling, tremulous life; he was drowning in the sensation of Sebastian bucking against him, the sound of his voice, the comforting, familiar scent of cinnamon and clove, the ungodly drug he offered to his little lord in scarlet droplets and hot spurts. Ciel moaned into Sebastian’s kiss and rocked beneath him, practically drunk on pleasure, his fingers stroking through those black locks – and then he was spending again, shaking all over, consumed by a euphoria so great that he actually lost consciousness for a moment, drifting through that black void containing nothing but his demon and him, and the feeling of warmth and safety and satisfaction that surrounded them. When he came to and opened his eyes again, Sebastian was still lying atop him, balancing his weight on one elbow, the opposite hand cupping the side of Ciel’s face, his now-talonless thumb stroking his soft, flushed cheek in a way the boy would have called affectionate, had he believed the devil were capable of such a feeling. “Mmm,” he murmured drowsily, bringing his own small hand up to touch Sebastian’s cheek. “Ahh… Sebastian.” The devil chuckled softly and dropped light kisses across Ciel's face, over his smooth cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids. “Yes, Young Master?” he replied, looking into that flushed face, the firestorm of embers in his eyes having calmed. His lips twitched as he spasmed with the last remnants of pleasure ebbing from him, laughing softly each time Ciel squeezed him in response. He remained there, gently stroking his little lord while their breathing slowed and evened and returned to almost normal. Ciel blinked, looking momentarily confused, then exhaled a quiet little laugh through his nose. “It’s nothing… I just wanted to say your name.” Seeing the look of surprised amusement he got in return, he hastily withdrew his hand and blurted, “Don’t get cocky over it – I just felt like saying it, is all. It’s a nice name!” His face turned a beguiling shade of deep pink as he looked away, totally flustered by the realization that it was somewhat pointless to be shy at the moment, given all the dirty things he’d said and done over the course of the afternoon – and, of course, there was the fact that the person he was feeling shy with was still inside him, buried to the hilt. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled again, resisting the urge to reach up and pet the demon’s hair some more. Sebastian chuckled musically and bowed his head, the ends of his silky black hair brushing Ciel's cheeks. “Very well then.” The demon's brow arched just slightly and tilted his head gently to the side, his smooth thumb still gently stroking the boy's cheek. His little lord was bitten and bruised, his skin glistening with sweat and flushed with exertion and embarrassment, and the devil couldn’t help smirking. “Bellus,” he said, pushing sweat-soaked hair from the boy's forehead. “I believe I shall need to run you a nice hot bath.” “Ugh,” Ciel replied, his nose crinkling in distaste. “I can scarcely think – do leave off the Latin lesson and speak the Queen’s English, will you?” Sebastian pulled out, and the boy could feel the sticky heat dripping from him to pool on the rug, making him shiver a little. “Ah—“ The devil leaned over his little master and turned the boy's face towards him; chuckling at his expression, he kissed the cry from Ciel’s lips and whispered, “Certainly.” Sebastian's brow arched and he straightened himself briefly before gathering Ciel into his arms carefully, lifting him up from the floor; his keen eyes scanned the boy’s abraded knees, the scratches and beautiful blooming bruises littered across his skin. They would vanish very shortly, given how full of demonic blood and semen Ciel was, and those devilish eyes glittered as he held the boy to his chest and gathered his fallen garments before heading upstairs. His arms draped around Sebastian’s neck, his head resting on one broad shoulder, Ciel mumbled drowsily: “...And clean the carpet later.”   END. Chapter End Notes intus - inside velocior - faster perii - I am undone/lost/ruined bellus - cute   thank you to everyone who read our fic, thank you for all the love and the comments, kudos, and bookmarks, and thank you for choosing the Bus to the Special Hell for all your travel needs - please don't stand until the Authors' Note comes to a complete stop. thank you, g'bye, g'bye, thank you, b'bye now, thank you, g'bye! Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!