A Magnificent Depravity - Chapter 3

Relieved was my young master when Elizabeth finally retired for the evening. Between the dancing and the dinner, Ciel was begging for a respite from the young lady's relentless attention.

"Oh my, it's been a long day, and I have to leave tomorrow," she yawned. The lady rose from the dinner table and her fiancé followed suit. "Goodnight, Ciel. Sweet dreams." She scuttled over to the earl and quickly embraced him before leaving for her personal guest room. Mey-Rin, standing by in the corner of the dining room accompanied her to see to the lady's needs. Elizabeth was not two feet outside before Ciel collapsed into his chair.

If tea that afternoon had not been enough of a trial, dinner proved to be the earl's true test in patience. The lady Elizabeth grew all the more affectionate as the afternoon progressed, culminating into an evening meal that even exceeded the girl's romantic expectations.

Quite impressive was the dining room display. The finest tablecloth was draped and in the center of the table a masterfully arranged centerpiece of orchids, crocuses, violets and snowdrop was on display. Ivory candles illuminated the dining area in rows of standing brass candelabras, polished to perfection. The finest china was laid for a four-course meal, its pinnacle being roast pheasant in an orange glaze.

It was almost too much romance for Lady Elizabeth to stand, and naturally her endearment bubbled over onto Ciel in a most humorous manner. She was incessant in her attempts to play with his feet under the table. She made every effort to hold his hand during the meal. Batting her eyelashes, she always tried to steer the conversation towards talk of weddings and marriage. Before dinner, Elizabeth wore her brooch and would not stop fawning over how well it matched her outfit. While I was thoroughly amused, my young master was to a point of desperation, and what little Chablis was left in the decanter was a proof of this. As a result, Ciel dug himself into a hole that he was unable to climb out of.

Between the main course and dessert, Elizabeth remarked, "You know, I was thinking, you haven't hosted a party in a long time, Ciel."

"Excuse me?"

She twisted her fingers in trepidation. "I mean, when was the last time you've thrown a ball? If there's ever a time to start thinking about such things, now would be it. The season for it always creeps up out of nowhere, don't you agree?" It is not as though the boy could deny any request made this young woman.

Ciel took a sip of his wine, and the glass was quickly filled by Mey-Rin. I scowled her, communicating that he had enough. Slinking back, her face flushed. The boy replied, "Are you suggesting I host a party just because you want one?" Oh dear, I thought, the young master was growing too brash for all the wine he was drinking that evening.

"Not in the slightest! You can make it a charity ball, and the money for admission will be for a worthy cause," She responded urgently.

"Wow, Lizzie, that's actually a good idea," the earl stated, as though her novel ideas were a rare occurrence. "I tell you what. " He took another swallow of wine. "I will contact the Queen about this and ask if there is a cause she feels is in of need of phil… philanthropy." That last word sounded a little too difficult for the master.

"Really? Oh Ciel!" The young woman was positively beside herself.

Now that she had vacated the room, my young master sat solitary at the table, the consequence of his words slowly seeping into his mildly intoxicated mind. Ciel does not do well with parties, and now he was obligated to prepare for one in the coming season. Motioning to the table, he ordered, "Sebastian, have Baldroy clean this up. I'll be in my smoking lounge. Bring the brandy."

"Yes, my lord." As if he needs more alcohol, I contemplated.

The lounge was a small room off of the billiard room, adjacent to a cozy parlor complete with a wet bar. Young master would frequent it to unwind after particularly trying days. While I considered it a filthy habit, tobacco had the effect of calming an otherwise short-tempered boy.

I anticipated the brandy would make him even more agreeable.

I made a quick trip to the kitchen to give my orders to Baldroy and Finnian, and then to the bar I went. I procured the 1834 vintage, stored in a glass decanter and I carried this with a small cordial glass for brandy. Ciel was sitting in his velvet burgundy chair, a lamp next to him on the side table. He took a pinch of tobacco out of the glass jar sitting nearby and tamped it into his pipe, a very fine James Upshall. Deftly, he lit a match and puffed before waving the stick out and disposing of it in the ashtray.

I poured his glass. "Your brandy, young master." He swirled the dark amber liquid, taking in its thick scent, and took a sip. For a moment he was silent, placing the tip of the pipe in his mouth, slowly inhaling, pausing, followed by another sip. His right elbow leaned on the arm of his chair, lazily holding the pipe at the bowl. As he clutched at the glass of brandy, he stared at a fixed point on the dark paneling of the wall, his eye unfocused, reflecting the many thoughts crowding his mind.

"Would you like me to leave you to your privacy?" I inquired.

"No." I would be lying if I did not consider this an invitation to pry.

He turned his attention to me as I stood idly in the corner of the room. "Sebastian, sit." He gestured to the chair across from him and I obliged. Surely whatever he wanted to discuss would involve his irritation with me.

"Young master, may I inquire as to why you are so tense?" I offered gently.

"Don't play dumb with me." He took a puff of his pipe. "I'm pissed."

"So am I to conclude that you are angry with me?"

Ciel nearly spilt his brandy. "Of course I'm angry with you! What were you thinking with that Valentine for Elizabeth? I want to know, and do not skirt around the matter. I have no patience for your schemes right now." The boy took another drag off his pipe. A slight haze was beginning to fill the dimly lit room.

I did not much care for the master's smoking habit because the smell got in his clothes, his hair, his skin. I preferred he did not smell like ash.

"Well, master, it is rather simple," I explained. "I needed to procure a gift that could compensate for your lack of interest in the young lady." In response, he took another sip of brandy. "To be honest, you really do not give her much affection at all."

"So what if I don't?"

I leaned back, a reaction to the boy's defensive remark. "Well, she is your fiancée," I replied.

He countered, "Well, a gentleman should not be so overbearing in his affections."

"It is one thing to be reserved in one's affections, but you, on the other hand, are plainly aloof." He glared at me with a heavily lidded eye. "More brandy?"

The glass was silently held out to me. Grasping it, I rose and filled it from the decanter sitting on a tray in the corner. "Sit it on the table," He ordered as I offered him the glass. He inhaled from his pipe once more before setting it on the rest of the ashtray. He grabbed another pipe from the petite pipe rack next to his lamp. With this fresh pipe he repeated the same series of motions, filling and lighting it with the automaticity only seen in a smoker. Ciel propped his feet on a cushioned ottoman in front of the chair.

"Are you comfortable, young master?" I inquired.

"Well enough," he muttered. He reached for his glass and drank a little more deeply. "I think you should be aware that my feelings and the motives behind my actions toward Elizabeth are really none of your business."

Standing over him, I gestured humbly. "I apologize if I gave the impression that I was prying into your relationship with Elizabeth." I leaned forward so I was certain that he caught the glint of my eyes in the subdued lamp light. "I personally have no interest in how you engage the young woman, but I am interested in why you would insist on being dishonest with yourself."

"I beg your pardon?"

I placed my hands on the arm rests of his chair and leaned over him, his personal space being encroached. "Surely your lack of affection toward Elizabeth is not the problem but rather a symptom of something far greater that is causing you distress." I could smell the brandy and tobacco in the boy's accelerated breath.

Ciel shifted uncomfortably, feeling the pressure of my intense gaze. I queried, "Is young master hiding something? Is the secret so shameful that he would even hide it from himself?" Of course I was hinting at his act of self-alleviation the night before, but I would not dare to suggest I knew of it.

"Do not lecture me on the subject of shame, Sebastian." Acting casually, he inhaled from his pipe and blew the smoke in my face. Wisps curled from his lips as he spoke, "It is bad form to speak of things you know nothing about."

"So you are suggesting that you could enlighten me on the subject?"

Ciel gazed into the flame of the oil lamp, averting his eye from me. For once he did not have some quip to counter with. That solitary cobalt eye glazed over, and into that same deep place of longing, his mind began to tread. He licked his lips in concentration, attempting to determine just what emotions were safe, and which were not. What would he allow himself to admit and what was too dangerous to divulge?

I took the glass from his trembling hand. "Perhaps you would like one more glass?"

Young master did not need any more; I could see the lack of focus in the boy's vision and the flush on his cheeks. The brandy compounded with the wine from earlier would surely lead to a painful morning for Ciel. No matter; the next day's schedule was clear, aside from seeing off Elizabeth after brunch. Oh my, I thought, it would take a great effort to clean up this boy so she would not suspect anything.

"Young master?" I brought his attention back to me, still towering over his small frame.

"Yes, more brandy, please."

"How very polite, young master."

I straightened and went to fill his glass. The boy reached for his first pipe, checking to see if it had cooled. After emptying the contents of the bowl in the tray, he pulled off the stem. I handed him his glass, and he quickly took a deep swallow before setting the glass on the table. From a small pouch next to his pipe collection, he took a pipe cleaner, dipped it in his brandy glass, and ran it through the length of the pipe stem.

Honestly, only a wealthy noble would use some of his best brandy to clean his most expensive pipes. For some reason, the young master would prefer this chore himself, as though there is a meditative component to the act.

I decided to sit back down in the chair across from him. After a moment of silent pipe cleaning, Ciel set down his work and confessed, "I know I said it was not your business, but," he took a drag of his still-lit pipe, "you are right, Sebastian. I hate having to admit it. I care for my fiancée; that has never changed. She's family. But I feel no deep desire for her."

"You hate to admit that you feel no passion for Elizabeth."

"No, it's admitting that you are right in your observations."

I could not stifle a chuckle. It was always a matter of pride with the boy. He bristled in anger at my finding amusement at his expense. In response, he picked up his glass and threw its remaining contents at me.

The strong-scented liquid soaked into the wool coat - and stained the pristine white shirt underneath. I quickly suppressed the brimming irritation in me, and murmured, "Well, that was rude."

Glowering at me, he rose and quickly realized such an action was a bad idea after too much to drink. "Damn it—" Ciel clutched at the chair, barely catching himself from staggering to the side.

"Oh dear, young master, you are in quite a state." I rose to hold up the boy.

"You're one to talk, Sebastian. You're a mess," he chuckled. This was most unusual for the young master, but spirits would have that effect.

"Would you dismiss me so I may clean myself, which I should mention, is a result of your outburst?"

Ciel shook his head in response, which he immediately learned was not a good idea either. I led the boy to the couch against the wall. "Lie here and I will fetch you a glass of water."

"No, really, I'm all right, just…"

"…just inebriated." I finished his sentence.

"Oh, to hell with you." Young master rubbed his temples, staring at the ceiling. "Sebastian, get these shoes off me."

"Yes, my lord."

I pulled the ottoman close to the couch and proceeded to unfasten the buckles of his shoes. He had scuffed the side of one from stumbling to the couch. I would have to polish them again, after all. This was the opportunity I was waiting for. After placing the heeled shoes neatly to the side, I decided it was only fitting to rid him of his stockings as well.

"I didn't ask you to take off those," he rebuked.

I decided now would be a good time to play games. "But you looked flushed, young master," I cosseted. Perhaps he caught the quality in my remark, and my devious smirk as I pulled off my gloves. "Besides, I could not indulge you earlier, but I believe that circumstances allow me this now."

"And what circumstances are those?"

"Little lord, the manner is quiet, I have no pressing matters, and to be honest, you are quite helpless."

Ciel scoffed, "So you feel inclined to take advantage of that."

I took one of his feet into my bare hands and pressed a thumb into the arch. "Young master, I believe there is a small part of you that wishes for it." He attempted to bolt upright, but that only made him feel more disoriented. "Please relax, young master. I know your feet must be sore after wearing those shoes all day," I purred.

He drawled, "This is completely unnecessary."

I continued to knead the thick flesh. "And yet you are not protesting." Ciel relented, relaxing into the couch. I worked a finger between each toe, gently stretching his foot forward and back, around. I squeezed behind the ankle and the boy sighed. His head drifted to the side, his breathing relaxed. I marveled how such sinister hands could bring young master such satisfaction.

"Hmmm… Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"This is kind of nice."

Lowering one foot, I gingerly picked up the other. "So you are enjoying this?"

"Okay, maybe a bit, but it's a little strange." Young master gave a small moan as I began to massage into the other heel.

I lightly stroked the top of his foot with my dark nails. "I wonder, would Elizabeth do something like this for you?"

He laughed. "She probably thinks feet are not cute."

I gazed at my master, his eye closed, hands comfortably folded over his torso. Having him in this vulnerable position was too tempting to not exploit. "Young master, you have very attractive feet."

With that, I planted a kiss on his arch, and the boy gasped. His eye shot open and the flush on his face grew deeper.

"Does young master enjoy that too?" I continued the gesture, locking my gaze with his. I lightly bit onto his big toe and he jerked. He attempted to stifle a small yelp, his hand reaching for his mouth, those lips shaped into an O. "I think he does like it," I whispered.

"You cursed devil," he swore from behind his hand.

"Too right."

I traced my tongue along the contour of that perfect arch, resting my lips at the ball of his foot. I savored the taste of his skin, infused with the bane residing in him. If this could be an indication of what his soul would consist of… The boy shuddered, and the young master's panting was a symphony to my ears.

I encircled his big toe in my mouth, my tongue winding around it. The boy's hips dug into the couch. Up his calves my fingers lightly crept. The hand that was covering his mouth before found its way to his neck where the young man proceeded to loosen his tie. With the other he grasped at his shirt, pulling it free from the band of his shorts. As I lapped at those curled toes, my young master moaned deeply, and I could tell how he parted his knees, how he swiveled his hips, how he leaned his head back… this was more than pleasurable for him. A heat was stirring in him, his desire intensifying. He could have more; I would give it to him.

What was most surprising to me was I felt myself wanting to engage in this pleasure as well.

"You still have not answered my question, young master." His calves were cupped in my hands and I quickly nipped at one of his knees.

"Nnn… ah… what was the question?" Ciel was drunk on more than alcohol it seemed. He pulled at the buttons of his shirt.

"Actually, I want to amend my question." My tongue ran down his leg and his fingers dug into the couch, his body turning into a quivering mess. "Do you think Elizabeth could do this for you?"

Panting slightly, he replied, "I don't want to think about her right now."

I rose from the ottoman onto the velvet couch, knees digging into the cushions as I held the boy's feet aloft. This position would grant me wonderful access to his rear, I thought. My tongue licked the length of his left foot, pressing greedily. I positioned his right on my shoulder, my left hand on the underside of his thigh. I could smell his lust, underneath his ashy scent. The boy's back arched and his breath was heavy. The blush began to rise on his chest beneath a now-unbuttoned shirt. His hands crept dangerously close to his hips, and I could see a bulge in his pants. My eyes glazed over, vision growing red; I could ravage this boy—

"Sebastian, stop!" I froze. Ciel gasped and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Get off me."

Immediately I stood and stepped back from the couch. Oh dear, I thought, I over did it. To my relief, the young master was not infuriated; anything but. He sat up, cradling his head in his hands. "I have to go to bed."

"Let me assist you."

"I'll make my way myself," he insisted as he unsteadily pushed himself from the couch. He stumbled to the door, the spirits still having its effect on him.

I stepped forward and took his arm. "Please allow me—" He slapped my hand away.

"I don't need you to carry me to my room!" Ciel barked. "Clean this room up. My pipes need a good cleaning too, all of them. And put your damn gloves back on."

I reached into my pocket where I had stored my gloves. "Yes, my lord."

I did not want the young man hurting himself on his way to his room, but I sensed he managed well enough. I returned the decanter to the bar, and began arranging the room.

As I was cleaning the pipes as I was told, I heard the boy's moaning in the back of my mind, urgent and wanting. His heart beat accelerated, his body shuddering as he tended to the arousal that I incited in him only moments before. I could see him on the bed, propped on his elbows and knees, his trousers open as he pumped himself and panting, cursing me, cursing him, his free hand clutching at the sheets…