How to describe the emotions that assailed me when I found myself on my knees at Ciel's feet? It was a stunning tumult within me.

He stared at me in all its height, alternately paralyzed and imperious in front of the unknown that was going to unfold. I made myself very small, a frail thing sensitive and attentive to reassure him, this young man with the hard and broken look who silently exhorted me to take care of him.

I felt in my belly inflating his own excitement, his nervousness too, and I struggled not to flaunt my own emotion.

I waited a few moments for his breathing to become more even and soothing before looking up at the Count's young face. He sat on the bed with his legs close in front of me, and I realized I could start.

First his boots, elegant and well made. I undid the loop before sliding them from his feet, one by one, gently holding his ankles with one hand. They were so thin that I almost went around between my thumb and my index.

I glanced furtively at his alabaster face, he was watching me attentively without showing the least emotion.

Then the black wool stockings covering his legs. They were held under the knee by a leather strap with tongs that I removed, before detaching it in turn. Hands placed on each side of his knee, on the skin, I slowly slid them down, taking the fabric inside my palms, rolling the stocking on itself with delicacy. I raised my hands and made the same gesture, the tips of my fingers brushed the curve of his calf, caressing his immaculate skin with each lift along his leg.

I heard him breathe more deeply and felt the grit of his skin under my fingers thicken and quiver, while his hands compulsively clutched the quilt on each side of his thighs. I then silently questioned him gently, giving him a smile that was meant to be comforting. This had the desired effect; his face relaxed and he gave me a shy half-smile in return.

As I finished removing the first stocking from his foot and got down to the second, I felt a movement near my face as his hand grabbed a lock of my hair that he slowly pulled between his thin fingers. Then he grabbed another, which he smoothed again until he reached the base of my neck that he delicately furrowed with his fingertips.

My shoulders hunched slightly under the impulse of the shivers that ran through me and the contact of his fingers weakened a little before returning, light and hesitant, coming down from my neck to my chest, grazing the edges of my robe.

Numbed by so much gentleness, I felt my body languish. I had then all the trouble in the world to concentrate, feeling the muscles of my neck and my face relax one by one.

When his other hand rested on me, running the same caress on the other side of my neck, I could not restrain the irrepressible desire to snuggle against him, putting my face against his leg, clinging to him.

As his gestures were a little firmer, I gently kissed his knees while trying to continue my task, finally denuding his other foot. His fingers went up on both sides of my neck to slip under my clothes, caress my neck and tracing soft furrows on the top of my back, snatching intense chills along my spine.

Without further warning, Ciel leaned over, grabbed my wrists and beckoned me to get up, then pulling me to the bed next to him where I sat down.

He paused again, his feverish gaze running through my cleavage. I was amazed by the young man's ambivalence, his sometimes hesitant, sometimes daring reactions, and his attitude which exacerbated the disparities between man and child as much as it blurred the limits between both.

I began to gently undo the ribbon around his collar. I started the buttons on the top of his shirt while his breathing went deeper and more sonorous, raising his chest a little more with each inspiration.

His hands rested on his knees, fingers clenched on the fabric of his pants, while I released the last button, revealing his chest with skin so clear and velvety. As I leaned toward him to slip the shirt over his shoulders, he took advantage of my closeness to curl up his face against my neck, sniffing my skin as I pulled off his shirt.

The locks of his hair obscuring his eyes, his lips pursed, I felt his forehead put pressure, force me to tilt gently back as he weighed his weight against me. He accompanied my movement as I gave in and stretched out, pulling up his legs as he wrapped them around my bare thigh.

His breath was burning on my chest and he was obviously trying to hide his face, ashamed of what he dared to do, rubbing his crotch against my thigh on which I felt the hardness of his sex under the fabric.

At that moment, I understood what Alois felt when he was using me, ashamed and submissive in his hands. I felt the power and the perverse satisfaction of owning someone, of being able to submit him to the least of your desires. This boy was all mine at this precise moment, and this thought excited me almost as much as to know how depraved and immoral what we were doing was.

Ciel lying against me, his face hidden in my neck, his hand awkwardly explored my half-uncovered body. Pushing small plaintive groans to the rhythm of his pelvic movements, he clung to my breast, then to my stomach and, as an encouragement to his progress; I undid the knot of the belt that still held the sides of my dress.

Running a hand down the small of my back, clinging to the arch of my loins, his other hand ventured under my navel, furtively, and then returned to my chest before moving feverishly close to my crotch, without ever touching it though.

In front of his hesitation, pushed by the ardor that inhabited me then, I seized his hand and showed him the way. I held his fingers and put them on the hot flesh between my legs. His whole body tightened against mine, his breathing became more and more erratic and his cries raucous; it only served to fuel my perverted pleasure.

I guided his fingers on my forbidden lips, gently, browsing the soft flesh around the slot. Then I inserted them between inside the furrow, coating them with delicate circular gestures of the juices that had spread there; a lively demonstration of my ecstasy, until I made them penetrate me deeply. Cupping his hand, I pushed and pulled his fingers inside of me, letting my body express the pleasure I felt in throbbing cries.

Everything rushed at that moment. His slender body contracted against mine, jolted, a breathless cry stuck in his throat and his fingers tightening convulsively against my soaked tight inner walls as he reached orgasm.

I could barely see what was proclaiming the climax of pleasure, rapture never before achieved, but the young Ciel reached it before me.

He released his embrace and rolled on his back, turning his head to the other side. I could see the red coloring his cheeks but he was trying to hide his face as he struggled to catch his breath.

I took up my mind again, although still feeling a pernicious tickle dance in my belly. It was the first time that I had been the one who had provoked it, on my own initiative, and the trouble took of time to dissipate in my body.

The Count breathed calmly, motionless. Thinking he had fallen asleep, I decided to slip away discreetly. I covered my nakedness and started to get up when Ciel suddenly rolled onto the bed and wrapped his arm around my waist, his face hidden against my back.

I remained motionless a few seconds when I heard him whisper:

"Stay, please."

"As you wish, my lord." I replied, troubled by his childish tone.

Lying down again, Ciel slipped under the blanket without a word or a look, and then turned his back to me by turning to the side.

"Get closer." He said in a whisper.

At these words, the remorse took me suddenly. He had become a child again, scared of being alone. I turned to him and put my hands on his back covered by the quilt, making him feel my presence, eager to redeem myself for my decadent conduct.

What had I done? I cursed myself then for my depravity, I cursed this place and those people who had thus opened to me the darkest recesses of my being. I had taken advantage of the tenderness of this boy, he so pure, and in my turn I had strained him with the darkness of my soul.

"I'm of the same breed as your offenders eventually." He let out suddenly, acerbic. "I'm indignant at your fate and yet I'm abusing you, our nature is decidedly atrocious."

The man in him had emerged again, full of self-confidence and cynicism. What particular being he was this Ciel Phantomhive. What terrible trials had he had to endure to make a hard man grow up inside the body of a boy?

Despite the comfort that his words could have brought me, clearing my actions, I was not less ashamed.

If I understood something from that night is that despite all the humiliation I suffered, all the debauched acts to which I was compelled, it was indeed me the most atrocious being of all.