"Did you not hear me?" Ciel blinked his single cerulean eye slowly, sitting comfortably in his high backed chair.
"N-No, I 'ear you, sir." Mey Rin cringed, regretting her comment. "I just wanted to know why you needed it. Just curious, I am."
"And that is none of your business." Her master took a heavy sip from his tea cup, using the pause to mull her question over. "Let's just say that it's a matter of personal business. No harm will come to (Name), I see nothing wrong with it. I really don't care for the morals of the matter."
Mey Rin gulped, stepping back carefully. He was intimidating, to say the least. The Master almost looked like a king, so imposing and regal atop his throne. She would do anything for the Phantomhives, but reluctance crept into her mind and started to settle. What he wanted was oh so simple, but oh so guilt ridden.
"Yes, master."
------
The maid walked into your room easily, arms laden with fresh linens. To anyone else it would appear she was finishing her chores. Which she was, in a way. It was simpler room, it being a servants quarters, but quaint. Fresh flowers from Finny's garden were in a vase on the windowsill, and your few pocessions were cleanly displayed on the bureau.
Mey Rin paused, glancing around. There were only three pieces of furniture; a chair, the bureau, and your bed. Where could it be hidden?
She sat the bundle of sheets on your bed, starting her search. It wasn't under your pillow, or tucked within the clothes in the cabinets. Her ears perked, soft brown eyes glancing to the door. There was someone out there.
Oh dear. She could never go back to Ciel a failure. He would be furious! And if you caught her, mercy, you would never look at her the same again! You were one of the few friends the sniper had. Mey Rin began to rush about the room, shoving dresses back into drawers and smoothing pillows. Anything to make the scene less obvious.
"Kyaa!"
In her panicked haste, her boot heel caught on the floorboard, sending her straight to the floor. Mey Rin huffed, gathering herself into a sitting position. She lifted her swollen ankle, nursing the tender muscle. Her eyes flickered to the enemy board, knocked loose in the accident. A hollow pocket was exposed, housing a leather bound book.
"I got ya!" She cheered, snatching up the journal.
The footsteps faded down the hall, easing the knot in her throat.
------
It was pretty late into the night when Ciel relit the lanterns, pulling the book from the space between the mattress and the headboard. Mey Rin had delivered it to him after dinner, worked into a nervous sweat.
You were his favorite servant, Sebastian included. It was your duty to to keep the home clean and orderly, picking up slack when his demon was busy elsewhere. Ciel took a liking to you, watching you scrub floors or polish his chess sets. Any other young man could have talked to you, perhaps ask your friends what you thought of him. Typical behavior for someone infatuated. But, as many knew, Lord Phantomhive was not typical. He was rather impatient under his layers of cynicism.
Lord Phantomhive opened the front cover, reading: Property of (Name), Year 1851
He flicked through a few pages, looking for mentions of his name. The only things he could find were simple, unimportant.
August the 3rd- Master Ciel bought new dresses for Mey Rin and I today. I was too afraid to tell him mine was the wrong size.
September the 20th- The young master is staying in London for this weekend, I'll have time to tailor his ripped dress pants then.
Ciel was becoming irritated, turning the pages with greater haste. You had to write something worthwhile in the blasted diary. November the 11th- Met Lady Elizabeth this morning....December the 22nd- so excited for Christmas...January the 4th-cut my hand while preparing tea and...
He threw down the book, digging his fingers into his teal hair. Did you think nothing of him? Your thoughts were utterly asinine. Useless, boring. He glared at the page, squinting at the first line.
The dream came back again. Lord, I thought I was finished with this nonsense.
Ciel paused. There were several mentioning of The Dream throughout the journal. Perhaps it was time he took a look into this.
-------
February the 10th-
The dream came back again. Lord, I thought I was finished with this nonsense. The same damn dream over and over, have you ever heard of such a thing? It comes to me so vivid, I can hardly believe it is a dream...
Master Ciel was an imposing figure in the doorway of your room, his eyes filled with a heated aggression.
"(Name), What is this?" He pulled one of his chess pieces from the breast pocket of his suit, shoving it at you.
You caught the marble figurine, examining it.
"The King piece, m'lord?" You reply timidly.
"And what seems to be missing?"
You looked it over again, hands trembling. The crown. The only thing left was a ragged peg, the prestigious crown broken off.
"Master, please, I didn't do this! Maybe it broke off in the box, or..."
"(Name), who cleans the chess pieces?"
"..."
"Who?" He asked again, acid eating at his tone.
"Me, sir."
"Who has constant access to them?"
"Me and you, sir. But..."
"Are you suggesting I broke it?" Ciel tilted his head.
"Of course not my lord!"
"My study, now."
You followed him like a punished child, bowing your head. You had a feeling that you'd soon be receiving your final paycheck and a boot out the front door.
This job had been going so well, too. When Mr. Michealis had interviewed you for the position, it'd been the happiest day of your life. He only gave you the tiniest of smiles and a polite nod, but you knew you'd been accepted. Maid for the Phantomhives. How prestigious.
Master Ciel pulled his chair away from the desk, then formally sitting upon it. You approached him, puzzled, until he yanked your hips forward. The Lord positioned you on top of his lap, your rear facing up.
A thousand different emotions came to light. Fear, that he would beat you. Worry, that the pressure of being a Lord had drove him mad. Confusion, in that he had done nothing like this before.
The largest emotion solidifying was embarrassment. Your chest was firmly crushed against his left thigh, which was highly uncomfortable. Your skirt was in a rather compromising position, ruffled and bunched up your legs.
"You need to be punished, it's only fair." The teen sighed, removing his white silk glove.
"Don't do this!" You pleaded, writhing the best you could.
You didn't know how insane Ciel really was, and you did not want to find out. A cool breeze trailed up your thighs, the bottom of your dress draped up over your back. A pair of plain underpants hugged your hips. You could feel your every muscle tense in anticipation.
Slap.
You cried out as you gripped the arms of the chair.
Slap.
"Master, please!" You begged.
Slap.
"Louder." Ciel commanded.
Slap.
"Master!"
Slap.
"Master!"
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
Hot red blush crawled up your neck, the last scream resembling a moan. The front of the underwear was soaked. It would be evident to any adult with the slightest ammount of intelligence what the spanking was doing to you.
"Stand."
You obeyed, legs shaking as you stood. If not from pain then from fear.
"You've done well." Ciel smirked, straightening in his chair. "Not a single tear. Chin up, back straight. I'm impressed."
You then bowed your head in respect, clasping your hands together. This was one of the most nerve racking moments of your short life.
"I'm just glad I'm able to maintain my job, sir." You curtsied graciously before turning to leave.
"Wait, who said you were done?"
You cringed, facing Ciel. Your masochistic side was alive and well, but there was only so much one could take.
"Now," He continued, pressing his fingertips together. "Off with the dress."
"My dress?"
"Is there an echo? Clothes off, now. Unless you want to be sleeping on the streets tonight."
You caught the teasing tone. The Lord wasn't trying to force anything on you. He'd rather give his other eye than cause you heartbreak. It was, in business terms, a mutual agreement. He wanted you, researched the matter, and knew that you wanted him. It just took a very shrewd mogul to capitalize on the situation at hand.
"Yes, master." Your hands weren't the steadiest but at least the fear was gone.
You slipped off your maid uniform, next went your white slip. Your girdle and shoes were soon discarded. While he watched, smiling unnerving, you were reduced to your underwear, still damp, and brassiere.
"Are undergarments no longer considered clothes?"
"M'lord?"
"I said clothes off, (Name)."
You braced yourself, trying to find the right state of mind. Your impossibly handsome master was requesting to see you in your rawest of forms. And who knew what else he wanted with it. Past the embarrassment, you were in Heaven.
"Hm," He commented, squinting a tad as you fully undressed. "Good."
Ciel stood, touring around you in a circle, like you were a prized horse about to be purchased. His bare hand groped your breast, eliciting a sharp noise from your mouth.
"Very good." Lord Phantomhive completed his inspection of your assets with that damn grin still plastered to his face. "To the desk, now."
You hopped up like a good girl, ass firmly planted on the hard polished wood.
"Bowing to a young lady is always a sign of great respect." He mentioned, getting down on his knees.
He spread your thighs, eyeing the private spot between them. A single finger traced the slit, trying his boundaries. You weren't resisting to anything anymore, laying back on the desk like you belonged there. He inserted the finger, pausing before adding another.
You were softly moaning, playing with your breasts as he explored. You had to close your eyes when a hot, wet tongue touched your clit. It was almost too much. Ciel buried his face into your womanhood, licking and teasing and...oh god.
"Master~" You gasped, thighs clenched on either side of his head.
"Call me Ciel." He rose up, lips glistening with you.
"Ciel." You repeated, rolling the name on your tongue.
He unzipped his trousers, pulling them down (with his undershorts) to his ankles. His pale member was exposed, long but slender. You placed a hand on the shaft, directing it to your core.
Ciel was panting, his pretentious aura dissipating. You could finally see the teenage virgin hiding underneath, just as new to this as you were. By the time it was slid in, both of you were a melting mess. Ciel hunched over you, setting an easy pace.
You two never broke eye contact, starring each other deep in the eye. The only pause in his sloppy thrusts was to kiss you, deep and meaningful. His hands ravaged you, working just outside of your line of view.
You didn't know your climax was oncoming until it hit you. His lips were so damn distracting. He kept pummeling into you, harder and faster, shaking the very floorboards under his feet. Your toes curled, hands splayed flat against his chest.
"Ciel~!" You screamed, back arching into your lover.
The earl groaned roughly before giving his final thrust. His cum dribbled out onto your thighs.
"I love you." He murmured into your ear.
I'm going to rot in Hell. Thinking such things about my master! Have I gone mad? How could my brain even conjure up such a thing! Every few weeks, waking up with my hand under my nightgown, touching myself. Not that I didn't enjoy it. It's just inappropriate. I'll write if this happens again. Better see myself to bed, early to rise tomorrow. Maybe if I'm lucky my master will visit my dreams again tonight. Love you too, Ciel.
------
Ciel felt his cock twitch under his fingers, reading the passage over and over as he stroked. Strings of cum sprayed out onto his bare thighs, his breath hitching in his throat. It took him a moment to process that he couldn't exactly call in Sebastian to clean this.
"Damn it."
------
The following morning, Lord Phantomhive was strolling around his parlor. He was enjoying the gorgeous breeze blowing in through the windows while trying to come to terms with this new information. The most beautiful woman he knew lusted after him. Rather valuable Intel. But sensitive Intel.
His eyes alighted on the chess board assembled in the center of the room. He sported a smug smile as he turned towards the game, selecting the king piece. Pressing it firmly under both thumbs, the fragile marble crown snapped off. He pocketed the piece, wandering down to the kitchen to find you.
You, meanwhile, were puzzling over your missing diary.Where could it have wandered off too? You rarely ever took it out of your room.
You wore a look of deep thought while you soaped up the kitchen counter. A creak from the doorway broke your train of thought. You glanced over, smiling at Lord Phantomhive
"Master, I didn't see you there. Forgive me, I-"
He pulled a single chess piece from the breast pocket of his suit, holding it aloft with a wicked smirk. The plate slipped from your fingers, shattering on the floor.
"(Name), what is this?"
