Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13159965.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kuroshitsuji_|_Black_Butler
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Michaelis/Ciel_Phantomhive, Sebastian_Michaelis_&_Ciel
      Phantomhive
  Character:
      Sebastian_Michaelis, Ciel_Phantomhive, Original_Female_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      SebaCiel_-_Freeform, Shotacon, teacher!sebastian, naughty_lil
      student!ciel, sebastian_michaelis_is_delusional, Dirty_Talk, Rough_Sex,
      Blowjobs, FaceFucking, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Masturbation, this_is
      the_awakening_of_sebastians_fuckery
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-27 Words: 8676
****** [REWRITE] the corruption of a righteous man ******
by whore
Summary
     students should stick studying and getting good grades rather than
     seducing their teachers between their thighs.
Notes
     hey y'all i just rewrote the first 3k words and now it just sounds a
     lot better to me so uh yeah. i'm still not entirely satisfied with
     the buildup but i'll improve over time, so whatever lol
     disclaimer: i do not condone any of this behaviour in real life and
     this is purely fiction. i know damn well its fucked up but i will
     continue to write what i please because nobody is being hurt in the
     creation. thank you.
He's just a boy. I shouldn't, I can't—
Bad. This is bad.
I want to fuck him senseless.
Thoughts, hundreds of thoughts had run through my mind when I had walked into
my classroom. You see, I did not expect to open my unlocked door to find my
dearest pupil spread out on the hardwood of my workbench, uniform shorts
straining against his knees, sweater rolled up to expose his milky chest and
pink nipples. Index and thumb rolling a hard nub between their grasp, forcing
moans and keens out of him. Other hand stroking between his thighs.
"Mmh-!"
I cursed under my breath.
You can well imagine that I was in a bit of shock, my own trousers getting
irritatingly stiff and tented with every second that passed with my eyes locked
on the delicate hand that harshly tugged at his length. Thumbed the head of it,
slowed and made him shudder deliciously.
Ah, such darling, tempting sight, it was. I clenched my fist. Licked my lips a
little.
He chanted my name like it was a prayer of some sort, like it was the only
thing he knew; with his back arching high and eyes rolled, profanities between
his breaths, I had caught a small, undeniable s-sebastian michaelis, s-sir..
My jaw fell slack.
A display of utter debauchery such as this was foreign to me, unbeknownst and
peculiar. It made my eyes widen, lower abdomen to stir and morals to crumble.
I'd witnessed too much to simply turn around and forget, for how could I? A
perfect thing such as he, throwing his head back, begging my surname and
fisting his cock. Shaking under his own touch and imagining that it was I
behind the cause of his pleasure. Truly, it had spoiled me for being what one
would consider a mindful adult.
It's quite laughable when I recall just how dry my mouth had grown, how much I
realized I was willing to throw anything and everything for him. Forget my
boring wife, what should remain of my future; I cared not, as long as it meant
I'd be able to ravage him out his wits, have his throat to raw with how hard
he'd be screaming my name, my fingerprints branding his taut skin — nothing
mattered compared to that.
"Haah, S-Sir, I don't know how much longer I can s-stand thiisss," He whimpered
needy. Buckled against his hand and swallowed a moan.
It all made me a weak man, made me bite my tongue and pray silently; beg the
Lord to give me strength for this pupil would surely be my undoing. Bitten lips
shameless and gaping. Eye half shut and body gloriously sensitive — I swear,
the last shred of my will had held me back from marching up to him and tearing
his hands from his cock. Held me back from pinning his skinny hips down and
taking his throbbing flesh into my mouth, driving two digits into his puckered
hole to have him pleading and weeping.
He let out another whine.
I was salivating like an animal, growing hungry and impatient; the most I
could've done to relieve the aching pressure between my legs was to palm
myself, keep my wide eyes locked on that boy, and hope he doesn't notice. Watch
him trail his fingers down his nearly fatless belly and wish it was me. Watch
his hand stroke at his little length and wish it was my mouth. Wish it was my
tongue tracing every last inch of his skin, having him squirming and jerking
beneath me, asking for me to do bad, bad things to him in that high, pretty
voice of his. Rough him up a bit. Get him shaky and crying.
"I-I know you're watching m-me, Mister. Ngh, won't you come and h-help?" Cute
voice wobbly and unsure, unknowing of what he could be beckoning and bordering
thrilling fear, he spoke out into the open air with unease, yet it had flown
through my ears like liquid silk. Impeccable, afraid, perfectly ignorant; he
was to overpower me like this, stupidly innocent and seducing, cerulean eye
glancing at me dubiously — I was falling deeper and deeper into a place I
shouldn't.
I bit my tongue once more. Choked on a grunt and prayed once
more; givemestrengthgivemestrengtbgivemestrength
"C'mon, Sir. You wanna touch me, don't you?" Of course I did. I wanted to grasp
his little waist and feel how his skin threatens to burst atop his ribcage.
Wanted to slap and grope his pert cheeks. Wanted to finger-fuck his virgin ass
and mark him up real good. Make him cry pretty tears and let him know just how
breakable and frail he is beneath me, how easily I could rip him in two.
He bit down on his lip and dragged his hand from his cock to slide fingers up
his bony chest. Caught his bruising nipples between and squeezed lightly,
moaning and whining whorishly to call me, bring me forth, but I stood my ground
and drank up this shamelessly sinful sight, arousal throbbing painful and mind
running filthy.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Ciel," His name like sugar on my tongue, I
wanted to say it over and over. Maybe low and growling into his ear, making the
hair on the back of his neck stand proud. Make him whimper meek and flush dark,
all slick and shaky for me—
I stalked towards him, heels of my polished shoes echoed loudly with every step
I took. I kept my hands folded behind my back to keep myself doing naught to
him, for I swore to myself that I would wait, whether it'd be seconds, minutes,
or maybe even hours. Did he truly desire me?, I thought in my head, though the
beautiful boy that laid himself before me spoke for himself with his high,
drawn out moans, with the endless stream of profane clamours and calls for me;
the righteous man in the back of my head was screaming at me to back away from
this boy, this forbidden fruit, this unforgivable sin.
"Am I really, Sir?" His body and voice trembled. Ghosted my sanity and morals
with each shuddering breath and groan he drew.
It had felt like I'd been paralyzed, caught in a trap, maybe, though I showed
not and kept my jaw clenched. Fist clenched. Barely standing to continue on
with whatever this was, this game, this utterly torturous, maddening,
dangerous, enticing game. He quirked the corner of his mouth a little, found my
stone-cold face and tented trousers funny, maybe. 
Ciel had a peculiar sense of humour.
"Hnn,"
He made it hard for me to stretch my patience out with how stupidly,
nearly annoyingly innocent he seemed with his thighs spread, pretty wide eye
locked on me and mouth pouting subconsciously. Pink lips bitten shy. Lashes
casting shadows on his flushed cheeks.
"P-Please help me, Teacher. I-nnn, Gods, I need y-"
"Don't talk like that," His words like a Siren's call, I promised myself that I
wouldn't fall prey to this blatant trick, not to his seduction nor his sweet,
young body; though little did I know, he had me wrapped around his finger the
second I stepped into my classroom and watched him pleasure himself. Watched
him arch his back and tease his tight, closed hole. Shy away from plunging a
digit into his virginal rims and deciding that it'd be I to do that. Strip him
of purity, make him fall apart beneath me. 
How did he imagine I'd take him?, I pondered morbidly, the thought was curious
and bad and it lingered all too long — 
— did he imagine I'd fuck into him hard and unforgiving? Selfish and greedy?
Pounding relentless and mindless, maybe merciful enough to wrap a dry hand
around his prick and tug in rhythm with my harsh, harsh thrusts til I'd fill up
his used little ass with my semen? 
Or maybe he imagined something softer, sweeter. Something that cared more and
something that yearned to fill him to the brim with intense, heated pleasure;
something that pressed candied kisses all along his velvety rib-cage. That
dipped its tongue into his navel and lapped, trailing down to his neglected
cock and engulfing all of him in warm, warm slickness, making him fist dark
hair between his delicate fingers, hips bucking into neck; oh, yes, something
that would have him mewling and crying brokenly, overly-sensitive and whiny,
sucked and licked raw-red; working my girth into him nice and slow to watch his
brows slowly knit together and eye weep uncontrollably would be a sight to
never be forgotten. 
"You don't know what you're asking for," It pained me to say so, it really did,
for I was achingly hard, growing mindless with the seconds that passed of him
gingerly stroking his thighs. Icy eye staring me down. Mocking me. Other hand
gliding down his chest, tweaking his nipples. 
I wanted so, so badly to abandon all faith and dip into the sweetness of him,
the sugar-purity of this pretty boy and taste every inch of him. His taut
stomach, soft thighs, small cock — I wanted all of him to myself.
He chuckled high and tremulous. 
"I know what I want, Mister. P-Pardon my informality, but, I don't think you
do," Another quirk to his mouth made it difficult to keep my facial expression
as neutral as possible. My arousal had been throbbing painfully for over sixty
seconds, and the nerve on this boy wasn't helping. I nearly barked out a harsh,
painful chuckle, half from disbelief, half from complete discomfort. 
I drove my fingers into the flesh of my begloved palm and exhaled audibly.
Pathetically prayed for no other reason than for whatever remained of my
restraint to last just a little longer.
I cleared my throat and adjusted my collar in an attempt to appear dominant,
professional and superior, perhaps, though I knew well I was nearing the brink
of my patience the longer I waited for something, anything to happen. I wanted
an excuse to lay my hands upon him, in a way that didn't betray my pride and in
a way that put this vex of a brat in his place, but Lord almighty, it was
nearly impossible to tear my gaze away from his lingering fingers, his reddened
chest and daring thighs, it all caught me in something of a ploy until he
released another high, cocky giggle and lifted his hips from my desk to roll
onto his stomach.
He watched as I paced three treads to get closer to him, and for what, I didn't
even think to ponder; did I want a better view of his bony, itty chest, maybe
of the heat between his legs, did I want a better scent of his dripping prick,
a better scent of his sugary, bone-white flesh, or, did I want to scold him and
call the headmaster? I nearly let out a laugh at the latter.
"You've been staring at me like you either want to hurt me or fuck the
consciousness out of me,"
He was getting bold, now. 
"Or perhaps you want both? Which is it, Teacher?" Gods, then his pretty eye was
glaring up at me through dark lashes, head lolled to the side and shoulders
shaking as they struggled to support his light frame, hot little cock barely
ghosting the files that I cared not for. He slowly rotated his skinny pelvis,
teasing himself with what friction he could get from grinding his hips nice and
low on my workbench, wetting and dirtying my paperwork with the slick that
coated the purpling head of his length.
"You don't know what you're talking about," I had somehow managed to state in a
strong, confident manner. The irony of this, whatever this was, caused a smirk
to spread across my face. Really, it was I that didn't know what I was asking
for, it was I that hadn't a clue of what I was talking for, talking about, and
despite my pathetic, barely-there efforts of attempting to steer away from this
fiendish thing, this boy with a name like purity and a mouth like Hell, he had
already drove me far, far away from what I considered the path of rectitude and
virtuousness.
"Sir, I beg of you. You didn't need to watch me for as long as you did. You
want something, do you not?" Ciel drawled into the dead air, gritting his teeth
when the cool temperature of my classroom had touched and dipped into his
virginal rim, violated his hot prick and reddening scrotum as he spread his
knees farther. Now his boring, shapeless uniform shorts had slipped to his
ankles and slipped to the floor, leaving his lower body completely naked to my
eager eyes; I forced my gaze to his cocky, confident, pretty face and even
prettier, redder lips and flushed cheeks. A single thin brow arched, single
beckoning finger and fluttered lashes begun to pick on whatever remained of my
piteous will.
He didn't speak a word. Only told me to take a seat in my leather chair that
rested dangerously close to him with a finger that curled forward and pointed.
I didn't budge, I would be far, far too close and hazardous and I would break,
no, I would break far too soon—
"—Come on, Mr. Michaelis, surely you're not just going to stand there and watch
me,"
"I-mmm, fuck, I want to feel how hard and big your cock is, Mr. Michaelis,"
"Don't you want to fuck me? Fill up my tight little ass and watch me cry
out for you?"
"I need you, Sir,"
"I-ah, fuck, shit, fuck, I n-need you, Sir!"
Hand pumping his arousal, back arched, ass up in the air, legs spread, eye
glooming half-shut, mouth hanging slack, lips bitten purple; I could barely
contain myself.
"Mmm, Mister-ngh!"
My fingers locked themselves in his beautiful, peculiar greyed blue locks,
tugging the soft material back to force his chin up, throat to bob, sapphire
eye to widen and glitter pretty.
"You have a dirty mouth, don't you?"
Choked whimpers and keens were the only things that left his rose-petal lips,
eye blown wide and locked on me. Bewildered and scared yet eager and intrigued.
 Perhaps he hadn't thought I would break so soon — a weak man with little
patience and composition, I was, though the thrill between him and I was
mutual, blazing, and incredibly white-hot. Grasping his hair, feeling his skin,
running my thumb down his glossy, pouting lips had felt like a desert meeting
rain after several decades. Like my fingers were made to tug at his hair. Touch
his skin. Feel his lips. Just like he was born for me. Born for me to touch and
ravage. Grope and slap. Love and hate. Desecrate.
Ciel grinned this impish little grin, one that was foreign to me and he opened
to say something, maybe, perhaps snap back at me, taunt me, hate me, love me,
but his jaw fell slack and he moaned so, so wantonly when I tugged back on his
locks with more force, less care, more ruthlessness and authority. 
"Answer me. You have a dirty mouth, don't you?"
"Mmm, yes I do, Sir, hnn,"
I grabbed ahold of his bony, prominent jaw and leaned in close to stare at him
directly, other hand firmly grasped in grey-blue and tugging harder; another
filthy noise, another pant, another plea,
Then our faces were mere inches away, I had felt his hot breath ghosting my own
thin lips and it took all I had in me to not catch his pretty red in a rough,
domineering kiss, all teeth and tongue, messy and delectable. I wanted to hear
him, feel him moan into my mouth, drag his pink tongue along mine and whimper
sweetly, whisper brokenly between his choked whimpers and wet clamours, feel
him come undone and breathless.
"You what? I'm not sure I understand,"
But, I'd have to wait for that, no, I pined to make him suffer like I had, to
slowly burn up his patience and pride until he's pathetically desperate and
blubbering, crying for me to fuck him senseless, crying for me to bite him and
grind him raw.
"Ah, nnn, I have a dirty mouth, Mr. Michaelis,"
To Hell with waiting!, I thought sheepishly, contradictorily when I had run my
eyes over his slick tongue, barely poking out the corner of his gaping mouth; I
slowly drew his hair farther back and caught his plush lips in a harsh,
unceremonious kiss, teeth clashing and scraping, saliva thick between our pants
and grunts - perfect, sloppy, careless, filthy, debaucherous!
A bite at his lower lip, a kiss at his tongue, a groan into his mouth and
another harsh tug at his hair made him a keening, whimpering mess. Dragged out
endless, unadulterated satisfaction and need from him. Made him all too
shameless and bold — 
"Haaah, nnn, fuck-"
"-mmm, shit, Sir,"
"Ah, hnn, yes-"
Ciel Phantomhive is a noisy, needy thing, I thought with every plea he released
into me. It was rather entertaining, if anything - though his glorious, dirty
mouth talked big and bad, taunting and tempting, he was still young and
inexperienced. Incredibly eager, sloppy and messy, it all made for an
interesting venture, his tongue fervent and earnest.
I pulled away to grip onto his bony hips and pull forward, hauling him forth
and wrapping his marvelous, lean legs around my waist; my palms had finally got
a feel of his tender bottom, got a feel of his prick brushing against the thin
material of my dress shirt and woolen blazer that his hands clutched at, clawed
at, dug his fingers into and pulled off my shoulders.
Then his fingers laced into the blackness of my hair and grasped tight, hot and
coy when he reconnected our lips for the second time.
I sat down on my leather seat.
Another pant, another plea,
A chorus of grunts, a chorus of groans,
More mmms and ah, fuck, sirs
A tug at black, a grip on his ass,
He pulled back for a breath.
Pink and whiny, beautifully flushed and moaning all on my lap with his thin,
porcelain arms wrapped around my neck and a string of saliva connecting my
upper lip to his bottom, I thought to myself, oh, Ciel Phantomhive is so worth
it; worth my future, worth my reputation, worth my faith and worth my
everything. I cared not that I would be doubtlessly reported and shunned and
fired and jailed if a colleague were to walk through my unlocked, cracked open
door. If it meant I'd have this embodiment of perfection wrapping up my stiff,
throbbing flesh and sucking me in greedily, crying my name into my ear and
pleading deliciously in minutes I could hardly stand to wait, then I cared not.
I licked his pretty alabaster neck and bit down.
"Haah-!"
"Look at you, whoring yourself out on your teacher's lap, calling his name,
thrusting your hips,"
I groped his soft buttocks, digging my nails into the tender flesh and forcing
his pelvis closer to mine; a yelp, a gasp, a moan, hands fisted in the cream
button-up that I would soon have to strip myself of to prevent him from further
tarnishing. Oh, Gods, his cock only gushed and gushed with more slick when I
skid a hand between our bodies and gripped, thumbing the purpling head and
eliciting a shuddering gasp; it took all I had not to slam him back onto my
desk and fuck him right then and there.
"You're obscene,"
Ciel grinned.
"Mmm, maybe, but you fucking love it, don't you," He trailed a finger down the
structure of my throat and down my Adam's apple, pressing slobbery, eager
kisses upon my jaw and down, down, down, til his tongue lapped at my
collarbones and sought my throat once more; pitiful of me to hold back a
particularly biting yelp when he sunk his itty teeth into the nape of my neck,
kissing at the mark to soothe the spark of exhilarating pain.
My hand found his head of grey-blue once more.
I tugged.
"Ngh!"
"I could lose my job, you know,"
I pumped my hand on his length, flicked my wrist.
"But you don't care about that,"
"You're just selfish and greedy, yeah? Don't care what it takes to get your
teachers cock, don't care if you fuck up his life, his future,"
His eye loomed half-shut and he let his mouth drop farther, quiet, pretty keens
spilling past and sending chills down my spine; I almost looked away from that
mug of his, barely able to bear gazing upon such a careless, needy, purely raw
expression of desire and pleasure. Hah, to think my pathetic, sexless wife
could ever match up or overpower this beautiful boy with hips thousands of
times better, mouth millions of times dirtier, ass billions of times tighter -
she was nothing compared to him; a pile of charcoal in contrast to a stack of
glittering gold.
I pulled his head farther back, leaning in and biting and nipping at his
flawless skin, nicking him sharply; bruised red littered his neck in peculiar
shapes of my teeth.
"Answer me,"
A breathy whisper from me, a choked whimper from him.
"Y-Yes, I'm greedy, I'm selfish, Sir. I'm w-ohh, oh god, I'm willing to do
anything for your c-cock,"
I chuckled lowly, murmurs of good boy and pretty thing slipping from me without
notice. I drew my hands away and hooked my arms around his legs to pick him up,
flip him over and pin him onto my desk with his little, pert, blushing cheeks
shy inches away from my face.
My, the way he squirmed beneath my open mouth when I had licked a slow, cool
stripe down his back dimple, his tight rim and the cleft of his sack; it was
delicious and unwanting yet surging into my mouth to envelope my tongue in his
hole, silently pleading for me to push past those restricting rings of pink and
to tongue-fuck his tight, warm, warm heat til I'd have him crying and red all
over; face scrunched cutely and eyes pouring needlessly, chin coated with a
sheen of saliva and his teacher's surname called over and over.
I spread his squirming, bucking little ass open and licked another line from
his pretty puckered hole to his perineum, stroking back and forth and relishing
in the sharp yet clean taste of him; little twit had planned it all out, made
sure he was nice and clean for me to suck, bite, and fuck at. It was incredible
how lithe and meager he seemed beneath me - my hands covered the entirety of
his buttocks and he had never seemed more fragile and breakable than he did at
this very moment, so easy for me to snap him in half if I wanted to, so easy
for me to hold him down and have my way with him, though I wouldn't dare to
disgrace and harm this charming, perfect minx that served himself to me on a
silver platter.
"S-Sir, what are y-ah, mmm, no..!"
No, he pleaded, yet his darling hips spoke louder than he did; perfect
wriggling and thrusting and rolling onto my willing tongue, driving that muscle
past those gloriously tight rings of pink, driving deeper into his tight core,
Slick, sloppy, wet,
"Ah!"
Eager, shuddering, breathless,
"M-Mister..!"
I lapped and licked and sucked, copious amounts of saliva slicking him up
pretty. Perfect whines and moans and cries clawed up and out his throat,
echoing dangerously throughout my classroom. It's a wonder nobody had caught me
tongue-fucking his sweet body, with how loud and careless he dared to be. The
thought of one walking past my unlocked door, completely ignorant to the
obscenities him and I were committing to shouldn't be as exhilarating as it is;
they would never see my pupil's dear face contorted in pulsating pleasure, all
flushed and shaky with a large pair of hands spreading him wide open, dark and
faceless.
"Haah, oh, ohh fuck-"
"-don't stop, don't stop,"
Thrusting my tongue in and out his needy opening, lavish and pure, I had only
wanted more and more of him. More of this maddeningly pure body. Of his sweet
pink flush. His insanely soft skin and soft muscle. Toned bone-white and
sugary.
I quickly slipped off my gloves and brought two fingers to his gaping, panting
lips. My perfect, beautiful boy, barely corrupted yet knowing, took them into
his mouth and sucked and groaned and lapped and drooled all over them without
care, making a hot, wet mess of my digits. It really made me think of how he
would take my cock into his mouth; it'd be far too big for him, perhaps, his
cute little cheeks would be doubtlessly stuffed and filled with me, spit
slobbering off his red lips and messing his beautiful face, striking the back
of his throat and leaving him little room to gag and choke and cry. Would he
let me fuck his mouth?, I had thought curiously, my tongue lapping at his pink
opening, fingers thrusting in and out his lips, Or would he take it into his
hands and lick gingerly, tease me, taste me for himself?
He keened delightfully when I drew them away from him, bringing them to his wet
orifice and slowly sliding my middle finger in, licking and poking around the
digit to ease it in; Gods, help me, the noises that came forward as I slowly
began to twist and lick and thrust were driving me to the brink of lunacy; all
too careless, all too thick with lust and desire, all too wanton and whored-
out,
"Ngh..!"
"Ah, nnn, s-shit-Mr-Mr. Michaelis!"
I slid my other finger into him.
"S-ohh, fuck, Sir,"
Now I had one hand finger-fucking him, other hand spreading him open, groping
and bruising on him, my mouth kissing and laving and licking all at his
quivering asshole, dipping in and out and scissoring the boy open. He moaned
and moaned and moaned, perhaps a bit too loud; and though I rcherished in every
last syllable uttered from Ciel, I had to keep him quiet, should anybody walk
into this room and apprehend me, steal him away from me, call him a poor, poor
child and deem me ill.
I began spanking the top of his perky cheeks, rising from between his legs and
keeping two fingers occupied within him; a thrust, a slap, a thrust, a slap.
"Ah! W-What was that fo-ngh!"
Charming, adorable, and vexed, he was, bratty little mug drawn close, neck
craned back to glare at me, eyebrows furrowed, flushed a cute shade of
raspberry and jolting and burying his head in his arms with every thrust of my
digits, slap of my hand. He wasn't angered, no, merely confused and humiliated
that his length chubbed and gushed as my palm landed down on his bottom,
sparking stinging pain that soon mixed with euphoria when accompanied by the
digits in his wet core.
"Keep your voice down, Phantomhive, or I shall resort to other measures,"
"Nnnn, oka-ah..!"
I put my hand up and brought it down particularly harshly, the noise of his
pert bottom being spanked filled the room to the brim, overlapping with a sharp
cry from him and a small chuckle from me.
"What was that?"
"Shit, I'll keep my voice down!"
"I'm not sure I understand,"
Slap.
"Ah! I'll k-keep my voice down, I'll be q-quiet, Mr. Michaelis,"
I grinned, looming over him and pressing gentle kisses along the nape of his
neck, dipping my chin where his shoulders curled forward and I whispered into
his ear;
"Good boy,"
I felt the goosebumps that ran down his spine, he muttered a small string of
shaky curses and shook his head slightly. He slapped his hand over his face,
covering his mouth when I began to move my fingers at a harsher, more
unforgiving pace, barely giving him time to draw fresh air into his lungs. I
knew I had struck his prostate when he moaned sharply, jerked his hips and
whined so, so softly under his shuddering breaths, audible to only me.
Nearly silent pants, meek little moans, pleas,
''Haah, haah,"
"Oh, oh my God, oh my God,"
I slipped in another finger, forcing it past his tight, sweet sweet rims and
striking him over and over again on the bundle of nerves that made him scream
into his palms, made him writhe and writhe and verge tears; entrancing,
enchanting, nearly hypnotizing was the sight of him when he was bent over my
desk, trustworthy teacher touching him in all the places that he shouldn't with
his dear head buried in his arm, mouth clamped shut and flustered pretty red.
"F-Fuck, Mister, Sir, I don' - I don't think I'm gonna last," He stuttered on a
groan, rolling his hips perfect and jittering cute. I immediately drew my
fingers from his greedy hole. Trailed them up his thighs and perky ass, dipping
into his dimples and tracing down his spine. He whimpered a small, small plea
and looked back at me, lips bitten, mug orchid pink, eye bleary, glossy and
brow relaxed; he looked utterly hazed out, nearly fucked out despite that no, I
wasn't anywhere near done with him - Hell, I had barely started.
"Turn over, darling,"
I unbuttoned my trousers and tugged them down, arousal bulging out of my
undergarments desperately and seeking attention; I couldn't contain a slow,
dragged out grunt of relief when I'd freed it from my horribly containing,
shape-refining slacks. And dear me, the look on Ciel's face after he'd turned
onto his back and took in the sight before him... he went from dazed, nearly
tired and limbless to eager, wide-eyed and so, so incredibly wanton. He needed
not a word - got down on his knees in seconds, gaping, eye sparkling and hands
clutching forward. He gripped my hips and trailed his fingers around my girth.
Palmed and grabbed through the fabric of my undergarment and dared to close his
hot mouth over it, licking and sucking through cotton and forcing a gritted
moan from my throat.
He didn't even need to be told what to do!, I thought ravenously, shocked yet
delighted as he mouthed and mouthed upon me, eventually catching the fabric
between his teeth and dragging it down to reveal my aching, throbbing length,
curled up against my stomach and pulsating needily, a thick vein bulging
forward and a sheen of pre-ejaculate coating the reddening head.
He immediately took it into his mouth, groaning around and swirling, licking
sloppily; so, so eager and careless yet somewhat wary and curious, wrapping his
lips around my width, slowly moving his head up and down and up and down. The
languid drag of his tongue. Trailing down a vein. Saliva already dribbling off
and onto his chin. He had barely started and yet I covered my mouth. Struggled
to stay quiet and clenched my eyes shut, other hand fisted in his hair.
"Oh, God,"
I should not use the Lord's name in vain, I know that well, but with this
impish boy on his knees, all too eager and shameless, like a whore of some
sort, I cared not - no, I cared not at all.
He tried to take all of me down, trying to relax his pretty throat and take it
nice and slow, gingerly pushed his head closer and closer to the base of my
cock only to jerk backward, gagged and saliva-thick; the walls of his throat
closed around my girth deliciously, soft choking sending goosebumps all through
my spine and palms wrapped around what he couldn't fit into his eager mouth.
I chuckled softly, the way he tried was really quite endearing, if I was to be
honest; I supposed I should help him. Took my other hand into his hair and
gently moved my hips, thrusting and pivoting into his open heat with care,
being sure not to hurt him - not yet, at least.
And as I did so, he immediately relaxed, eye dropping shut and thumbs pressing
into the dips of my pelvis.
"Mmmm,"
Leisurely and idling, fingers trailed down and pressed against the side of his
neck to further coax myself into the warm hallow of his gaping lips, his mouth
nearly limp for me to slowly, carefully fuck at, pushing myself all the way in;
I felt my prick bulging from his sensitive, itty throat, enclosed by his tongue
and ghosting little kitten-licks; I drew myself nearly all the way out, head
still enveloped by pretty pink.
"Good, good boy,"
I began picking up the pace; going from the slow rolling, gentle rocking of my
hips to harsh, unforgiving thrusts, meeting his mouth to my base in fast
seconds and feeling him close around me, trying to gag, maybe, but he hadn't
any room between the cock down his throat and his hitching breaths. He
whimpered so dear, all choked and faint yet guttural and filling my ears along
with the dirty, dirty sounds of my length practically gushing from his mouth in
wet, sopping clamours.
His fingernails dug into the flesh of my thighs.
I pulled back on his hair and forced his cute blue eye to fly open, blurry with
tears that painted him with a sheen, red face flushed and sticky.
"You take my dick so well, Phantomhive,"
I bucked up into his visage, pressing and holding his head in place, mouth
locked and nose nuzzling my lower abdomen.
"Better than any cheap whore,"
He whimpered low in his throat. Gagged a little.
"There's no way in Hell this is your first time, ngh,"
Tongue ravenous, licking stripes along my length and walls closing in and out,
easing and clenching.
  "Lips were made for cocksucking,"  
I held his head on my groin and he slapped my thighs weakly, driving his
fingers even farther and struggling to catch a breath, not suffocating, but
verging and he jerked, twisted with a splendid, lustrous mix of fear, pleasure,
and exhilaration.
"On three, darling. You can handle it, can't you?"
"Mmhm,"
A meek, muffled sound from his stuffed mouth.
"One,"
He gripped onto me desperately, teeth grazing my arousal.
"Two,"
He kept his pretty blue eye on me, tear filled and pouring.
"Three,"
I pulled back and released the grip on his hair to let him breathe - poor thing
immediately gasped for air. Saliva slicked lips open wide and baby body
trembling. Shoulders shaking. Hands wobbly. I grabbed his chin and tilted his
head up, leaned down to kiss away his tears, trailed down to his used, gaping,
breathless lips and connecting his with mine, slow and steady to draw the air
out his lungs once more.
Gentle, languid,
Mouth full of little boy tongue and face tainted by little boy tears,
A hicc, a choked sob,
Sweet itty prick veiny and purpling, needy and wanting release—
Darling thing pulled away and sniffed, pink nose running and tear-slick. Wiped
his face with the crook of his elbow.
"Up," I beckoned him forth.
He was a quivering and nearly incomprehensible mess, he could barely comply
with his poor bruised knees far too shaky and entire little body trembling
sensitive, lacking oxygen and amusingly jumpy; the boy had managed to rise from
his knees without collapsing, twitching and reactive.
"Lay flat on my desk,"
He took orders with an annoyed mumble - something about piss off, old
man, leaned back on the hardwood, struggling to haul himself up and grunting
irritably, adorably; barely able to look me in the eye without blushing
profusely and biting his lip and so I held him by the soft muscle of his thighs
and lifted him up with ease, knocked him down on my desk. Pretty boy-cock
bouncing and needy and spurting with pre-ejaculate. Painted a marvelous shade
of raspberry rose.
A wide, wide grin spread on my face and I leaned to loom above him, catching
skinny wrists in one hand and other skidding down to feel his finger-fucked
hole, to poke around and scissor him back open - amazing, his body was still so
taut, even with having worked several fingers into him, it retained its
grasping, greedy greedy state, almost untouched-looking and virginal.
"Still so damn tight, even after my fingers, darling,"
I plunged three back into him.
"Shit!"
I worked him loose once more. Fucked around with how deliciously sensitive he
was.
"Oh - oh my God, Mister, Mister, I need you, I need you...!"
"Beg for it,"
Digits merciless and moving with such force his whole body jerked backward,
An open mouth with silent screams,
"I-I need you so fucking badly, Sir, I'd do anything, anything for your cock
inside me, I need it, I need it, I swear to Go-"
I slid into him in one clean, slick motion.
"AH!"
Sweet baby-pink sucked me in immediately, walls clenched and so, so fucking
tight, I let my eyes drop shut; I groaned deep and guttural; I let him adjust a
bit, taut baby body wrapping me up all too perfect, all too hot and wet with
his face contorted in a mixture of deep pain and gracious satisfaction,
pleasured when I wrapped a hand around his member and stroked slowly.
"Holy shit, Phantomhive-"
I groaned low in his ear, almost unable to move with such an incredible,
gripping heat wrapping up my prick effortlessly; I could've sworn I was
spilling out of him, far too big for his itty bitty virgin ass to take, could
potentially hurt him bad but when he rolled his hips, slow and daring, broken
voice squeaking p-please move, mister into my neck, I cared not.
His jaw dropped when I pulled away from him slothfully, head of my dick almost
slipping out his puckered asshole before I drove myself into him, dawdling and
painfully euphoric; inch by inch, it felt like I was filling him to the brim,
no room left for him or I to breathe, tight, tight, tight, sensitive,
sensitive, sensitive!
He bucked helplessly beneath me. Clawed his pretty nails into my wrist and
squirmed, overwhelmed and stuffed with me and naught else. I thrusted slow and
burning, careful not to bring his meager body into ruins quite yet, for opting
on wearing his patience thin, making him sob loud and messy, needy and whored
out sounded rather ideal to my blurred-with-lust mindset and he twisted, mouth
slack and dragging out small ah, ah, ahs, all into my ear and breathless,
Pretty keens,
Skin on skin,
"M-Mr. Michaelis-!"
Loud whispering,
Hushed cries,
With his wrists locked in my hand, skinny legs wrapped around my waist; I began
to pick up the pace. Easing, shallow thrusts, caring kisses upon his ashen
skin, small whispers of assurance, whispers of you're doing so good, baby
boy and so perfect for me quickly turned to escalating harshness.
Started to pick up a hard, fast rhythm. Took his scratched wrists and pinned
them to his chest, holding them down as I pounded into him. Relentless and
overwhelming. Filthy and despicable. Glorious and sinful. The humble,
trustworthy, goes-to-church-every-Sunday Mr. Michaelis had left and something
else, completely primal and animalistic had taken over. Something that
thirsted, lusted heavier than one should and something that wouldn't give a
damn if someone were to find the two of us, this perfect thing and I. In fact,
it would grin right fiendish, turn around and spread this poor, poor pupil
boy's ass open and show how gaping it is, chuckle disgusting and slap, saying
something about that's right, I did that, I fucked this schoolboy open.
The roll of my hips made it feel like I was fucking every inch within him,
completely full and leaving not a place untouched, sliding all the way out and
driving myself back into him - this dear little boy took it like a perfect
cockslut, tear-brimmed eyes rolling to the back of his head and strangled
screams escaping his strained throat, chest bound to bruise with how hard I was
pushing against his wrists, using them as leverage to ruin his greedy, slick
asshole.
A brutal man, I was — still am, giving not a moment to let him catch his
breath, only slowing down to throw one of his pale legs over my shoulder,
digging even deeper into his core and nailing him repeatedly; oh, he wailed so
pretty, cutting himself off with even louder, heavier cries with every other
thrust of mine — I'm surprised I hadn't split him in half, break his little
body in the midst of my mindless fucking, break his wrists and make him bleed
needless.
But no, I should know better than to underestimate him, he is a charming,
vexing, mercurial thing that could bring grown men to their knees, make 'em beg
for anything and everything; I know that well, being that I'd been on the verge
of either begging for him to stop whatever game he was trying to play or
begging him to pick up the bloody pace, my trousers can't possibly get any
stiffer.
Thankfully, I had some dignity left in my system, enough pride and hubris to
sustain me until I'd have myself buried between his legs.
"Oh, oh my Gods, oh my Gods, oh my Gods—"
"Sir, Sir, bloody hell, Sir..!"
"Keep your fucking mouth shut," I had breathlessly bit out — it had tumbled
from my lips unnecessarily harsh and intimidating, though by the way his prick
twitched, he liked it, enjoyed being talked to like scum, like the inferior he
was to me and he choked on a small curse as I slammed back into him; hard and
threatening.
When he dragged out another long, high, needy moan, I'd clamped a hand over his
mouth and jammed two fingers down his throat, gagging him quickly as I resumed
using his needy, contracting virginal hole, still tight on my cock
and quivering sensitively, far too rough for this little boy's first time.
I knew I was going too hard on him, but I cared not a single bit as he only
cried out for more, screamed my name like it was just the two of us on this
ugly Earth and drove the heels of his feet into my back to drive me even
farther into him, perfectly whorish yet ignorant and unknowing of how bad I
could hurt him, just with my arousal plunged deep in his ass and my hand
clamping his mouth shut.
"Mmf!"
"I wonder, can you cum untouched?"
I slowed down slightly, grinding with my base pressed and flushed against his
stuffed orifice.
"Cum with only my dick up your arse? Could you do that for me, sweetheart?"
He gagged on the digits down his throat. Choked out a small mmhm..! and jerked
his bony pelvis into my girth.
"Good boy,"
I rolled. I grinded. I fucked into him. Watched his eye roll to the back of his
head. Watched pearly tears roll down his cheeks. My, he looked incredible with
his mouth and bottom stuffed, blushed and gagged — he couldn't talk smart and
haughty like this, he could only take what I was giving and writhe beneath me,
responsive, delicate, and completely under my control. The duality of Ciel
Phantomhive has never ceased to surprise me; little shit could go from the
embodiment of annoyance, making one want to rip their hair out and teach him
a lesson of some sort, to flawlessly receptive and needy; a whore for cock, a
willing slave to one's words and perfectly, perfectly wanton, tongue still
sharp as broken glass — the snark on him never quite wore off, and it'd be a
lie if I were to say I didn't adore that about him.
He gritted out a lecherous cry.
I released the grip on his wrists and hand in his mouth to grasp onto his bony
boy-hips, moving him backward before impelling him down on my width; light as a
feather, tight as hell — his body was crafted to perfection and I found not a
flaw when my eyes drank up the blatantly sinful sight of Ciel, underneath me
and amazingly malleable, my perfect little rag doll, only for me to toss
around, bruise, bite, hurt.
Lord, he let out this whine upon my digits leaving the hot cavern of his gaped
lips, made me throb deep within him and made a growl rip from my throat. He
enjoyed, relished in my every reaction, every gritted grunt, moan, curse, shit,
you're so tight, baby, every whisper of nothing; like a spark of satisfaction
had been elicited with any sign of weakness that left me. But my, every last
hair on his skinny, better-than-ever boy body stood tall and shivery, little
dick chubbing thick and proud — my words had one hell of an effect on him, and
it was utterly, utterly delectable.
I thrusted at a certain bundle of nerves, plunged myself in and out of him,
snapping and hammering relentlessly; the sound of skin on skin slapping packed
the room, drowning out the lewd, dewy noises of his pink, fucked-raw asshole
being defiled by myself — foul, bad, wrong, disgusting, dishonourable!, I
thought, my faith had not yet left me, I was still scolding myself for falling
prey to such a ploy, spoiling my soul in spite of lust and gluttony —
But it had been I that pursued him, took a bite of the forbidden fruit and
brought myself to this downward spiral; it had all been under my power, and I
let it happen, deciding it was worth having a perfect little minx like this
moaning my name, ass chalk full of cock and body branded, claimed by me. It was
bliss, it was euphoria, it was far beyond my comprehension,
And though I swore to myself, Sebastian Michaelis — you are a righteous man,
you are holy, you are a man of God, I had barely realized that it was I that
had corrupted this pure, pure boy, entranced by his curiosity and nerve. He had
not forced me, I simply complied, all too eager to dip into the blackening sin
of what laid between his pretty, alabaster smooth legs.
I could hardly bring myself to think clearly; with my member buried within him,
impaling and merciless, I pushed hundreds of conflicting thoughts to the back
of my head.
I thrusted. Pounded hard and steady. Watched him blubber needlessly. Cute
reddened-purple lips bitten bloody and shiny.
"S-Siiir! I-I ca-ah! I can't-"
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
A constant mantra of a mix of no, no! more, more! never ceased to flow from
him, elbows thrown around his head to cover up his blushed, embarrassed little
face; he played a dangerous game, calling for me to halt before demanding,
commanding for more, but by the looks of his tearful eye, slack head resting on
hardwood, near-screams and cries bursting out of him instinctively, I supposed
he liked being treated like he wasn't some fragile, too-breakable porcelain
doll, cracking after being mishandled, shattering into pieces after falling
hard,
"Haah! M-Mist-ngh, Mister!"
He liked thinking that I either knew he wasn't to break with all the force I
exerted upon him, or that I didn't care that he was to break, fall apart in my
very hands and crumble to dust, lest I hurt him bad and good, move a little too
hard and fuck him bloody.
"I-I'm g-Shit! I'm gonna cum-"
I did not relent, I did not slow my pace, I did not slacken.
I thrusted. Licked my lips at how his pretty cock bounced with every snap of my
hips. Poked and prodded at his soft abdomen, fingers pressing bruises into the
tender flesh as I gripped him, held him tight.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh..!"
"That's it, darling, that's right, cum for me,"
His sweet, bony little pelvis jerked and bucked up, shivering delicious and
cock twitching as he began to climax, purpled head twitching as he shot lines
upon lines of milky white; he was crying — a wailing, shuddering mess of tears,
saliva and cum beneath me, catching some his own semen into his lashes whilst
the rest landed on his taut belly, pretty nipples, ribs, collarbones, and chin.
Ciel was done. Looked up at me with a gloomy, half-shut eye, quivering lower
lip, face coated with a sheen and inconsistent sobs wracking his chest; perhaps
he expected me to slow, pull out of him gentle and caring, kiss every bruise I
placed upon him and get him clothed,
But, no.
I, however — I was not done.
I flipped him onto his stomach. Grabbed ahold of his pert cheeks and slammed
him back down on my length.
"Ah!"
Drowsy siiiirs and miiisstteeerrrs had left him in whiny cries; pouty boy
couldn't tell if he wanted me to keep going, with his asshole raw and his prick
jittering sensitive, softening and hyper-reactive, being that he'd spent all
over himself. But I hadn't given him a choice but to receive, and receive well
— I felt my own orgasm building low in my abdomen; a hot, ever-growing stir
that began to make my strokes go erratic and frenzied; brutal and brazen;
practically animalistic and blinded.
"'S t-too mu-ucchh..!"
Fucking hell, he took me so well. Arched his back pretty. Gingerly, meekly
rocked his ass against my groin. Buried his face in his arms with a squeak and
let me take him til I filled him.
He buckled, cried whiny about something along the lines of siirr, you're gonna
split me in haaaallff and ion' know if I can t-take thiiiiss.
Whiny, whiny, whiny!; blubbering, squealing, pouting and pink, I hammered, I
snapped, I pounded, I grinded all into him and he wept and cried and wept so
darling, powerless —
A mantra of my name,
Choked screams and pleas,
"I'm gonna fill you up, Phantomhive,"
Vigorous nodding,
A strained breath,
A panting yes, please, oh my god, oh my god,
He wailed this absolutely horridly wanton badwrong scream of teacher..!!, his
clutching, splayed little palms fell slack and he dropped his head, turned to
the side and watched as I jerked within him, climax overriding my body. I felt
myself twitching, expelling and loading his pretty boy hole with copious,
maybe shameful amounts of semen.
Even as I slowly, shudderingly pulled out his gripping sheath, he damn near
immediately spewed with me, glistening and spurting gorgeous.
I groaned. Slapped the top of his firm buttocks and watched him buck up. Choke
on a cute squeal. Squirm cuter under my hands when I spread him open once more,
shamelessly watching him gush with more and more fluid.
"Misterrr—"
I stood up straight and buttoned my crinkled-to-hell dress shirt. Slid dirtied,
partially wet trousers back up my trembling legs and buttoned them, fixing my
collar and wiping my face.
Poor boy — I'd fucked him silly and left him shaking, barely able to turn
himself over with his all-too-quivery hands, cum-laden asshole and wobbly
knees. I watched him sniff, grumbling incoherent and disgruntled. Watched him
get on all fours to search for his undergarments and uniform shorts, cute
little bum up in the air.
I bent down and smacked the perky muscle, chuckling low in my throat at how he
reacted beneath the sudden pain. Incredibly endearing,
adorable — nearly catlike was the way he flinched; quick to react, jerk forward
and hiss, maybe, except the hiss he released sounded more like an oi, fuck off,
old prick.
He flushed a deep pink and shut his cute mouth when I'd told him in my teacher
voice that it sounded a lot more like /fuck me with your prick/ not an hour
ago, phantomhive. come on, now.
i'll be expecting you tomorrow, same place. try not to jerk off while you wait.
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