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Gilded	By : tinkerheck Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 3151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, aka Black Butler. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
++++++++ Please see disclaimer & story notes in chapter one ++++++++

++++++++ chapter notes ++++++++

I fly beta-less. Please forgive the typos.

This started out as another huge chapter… only this time it had to be divided. Then, getting this one just the way I wanted it proved quite difficult. I re-wrote most of this chapter more than five times. I am sorry for the wait, but I’ve put far too much effort into this story to just go ahead and post something up even though I am not satisfied with it; so, waiting is going to happen.

Warning: Get out some sugar, so you can make some lemonade.

As always, thanks for reading.

 

+

 

Gilded

Chapter 12

 

+

Less than thirty minutes after we were interrupted, Gilda strolled down the stairs to greet the Dean where he was waiting in the front room. She was flushed, of course, smelling quite delicious to my sensitive nose, and I knew why… but she looked fresh as a daisy and behaved as gracious as could be, genuinely happy to see her guest.

Good little girl.

Fortunately, I’d gotten down to the front door and responded to the Dean on the intercom before Rafael Fernandez had. I asked Fortunado’s uncle to have Michael and Evelyn leave through the back when they were done, and for him to remain in the kitchen for the duration of the Dean’s visit, which I did not anticipate to be lengthy.

Dean Manners was there to personally hand Gilda the approval for her composition to be used as her recital piece – which was news that we all anticipated, but the formalities still must be obeyed.

After hearing the news, Gilda stared down at her cute red flip flops – toenails sparkling with fetching dark orange polish, quickly applied to go with the flouncy, tasteful silk dress she had thrown on. Her hair was loose, and wavy from the recent perspiration no doubt, and it fell forward across her bare shoulders.

She didn’t present this side of herself too often, but Manners was obviously just as susceptible to her charms as everyone else. When Gilda bit her lip and breathed a sigh of relief, the Dean himself teased her.

“My goodness… Did you actually think it would be rejected?”

Slightly embarrassed, she didn’t answer, so I answered for her.

“My Young Miss has been out of sorts since yesterday afternoon, Dean Manners. I am afraid she expected to hear back from the board sooner than this, and it has given her some pause.”

It gave me some pause too… The marvelous kind…

“Oh, Gilda, I am sorry!”

“It’s okay. Really, I overreacted is all.”

“No, no, I didn’t think about that. Of course you probably checked with Fortunado on his gaucho piece?”

“Yeah. He called me right after you called him.”

“And that was yesterday, early in the afternoon.”

The humans looked at each other, and winced.

“Again, my apologies. I saved you for last, actually, and for two reasons.”

He went on to tell Gilda that the board had several wonderful comments on the piece she had turned in for review. A composition meant only for piano, it was formally referred to as a Concerto for Solo Piano. The title, ‘That Butler: Gilded’, had intrigued them, and I must admit that my own head was still buzzing about that one – however now I felt complimented and appreciated, instead of confused and worried.

Her concerto was in the traditional style of three movements: First, a brisk sonata, which she had titled ‘Cutlery’. How very amusing! This was followed by the second movement, entitled ‘Linens’. It was slow and rich, building to a lovely climactic finish – such a tempo was perfectly suited to the subject matter. Between the thought of fresh linens on Gilda’s bed, and her laying before me on them, allowing me to slowly please her… there is no question as to why this was my favorite part of her composition.

It ended as these types of concertos did frequently, with a fast, complex rondo finishing it off. She’d called that one ‘The Culinary Arts’.

Gilda had elected to break with tradition and put her cadenza in the second movement, and that was what the Dean wanted to discuss with her. When Manners began rattling off the comments and suggestions that he and the board had garnered for her, she became instantly unaware of anything else in the room, including me.

Gilda is both troubling and bewitching with the way she desperately wants to feel me moving inside her… but she is absolutely obsessed with her craft.

Student of the Arts. I made a mental note to stay away from them in the future, no matter how good they may smell. Or how pretty their eyes are when they flash them at me. Or if they have a biting wit. Or if they make that ‘o’ with their lips…

Yes. I’ll have a long list of don’ts when this is all said and done.

“I saved my favorite for last, Gilda. That’s you.” She blushed. “You have really created quite a stir with this concerto. The board and I do not wish to step on your toes, but given the excellence of the piece, we want to make sure you have ‘dotted every i' so to speak. That being said, I do have a few questions about the phrasing you may have planned in the cadenza.”

“But… that’s all gonna be improv. Shouldn’t I pretty much wait until the night of the performance, and just go with it?”

“You intend to practice beforehand, do you not? No matter what you hear about cadenzas, they are usually planned out beforehand, at least to a degree. I’m afraid you do not possess enough experience to successfully wing it on stage. Eh – don’t be insulted.”

“Oh, no. I’m not. You’re right, I haven’t racked up a lot of live performance. But we need to talk about this. Will you stay for some goodies? We can discuss this in the salon for a bit before you leave, okay? I want to get started right away–”

“All right, Franks, hold your horses. Remember the swing set now and then, yes?”

She giggled. Clearly this man had been one of her instructors over the years and knew about her one-track-mind. Thank the stars someone else besides me had noticed it.

“Yes, thank you! I’ll stay, and… I have something else to ask of you. A favor, actually.”

“Shoot.”

“The senior party. Our venue double booked, and the Fornista-Akira wedding party trumps our little festivities. May I be so bold as to impose…”

My eyes lit up. I have a one-track-mind as well at times.

“Alex, stop drooling. Yes, Dean Manners, I would be happy to host the party here, in my home.”

“Really? Oh, thank you! That is such a weight off my shoulders. We will provide everything, of course, food, drink–”

My shoulders sagged and Gilda did not miss it.

“–entertainment, the works–”

“No, no, no. I insist that we handle all that. Just tell Alex what you have in mind, and leave the rest to him.” She turned away, muttering to herself, “or I’ll never hear the end of it…”

“Are you sure?” Manners asked, incredulous. He turned to me. “That’s a lot of work for one man, Mr. Michaelis.”

I smiled, eyes twinkling, bowing at the waist. “I assure you, Dean Manners, it is no trouble. In fact, it will be a pleasure. You see, I am simply one hell of a butler.” Manners laughed. “All you need do is supply me with the guest list and contact instructions, and I will personally oversee the entire event.”

“Yes, but by yourself? At least let me hire you some help!”

“No, sir, that will not be necessary. We have our own small staff. I will see to everything.”

“Gosh, this is… it’s great. Thanks Gilda. Just send me the bill when all is said and done.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll foot it.” He gaped at her. “Seriously, I’m loaded. Don’t sweat it.”

“I’m… I’m speechless.”

“Well, let’s just consider it my donation to the conservatory, okay?”

“Yes… Yes! Thank you! Wonderful!”

“Great. Now, let’s go into the salon, so that we can go over your suggestions!”

“Of course.”

“But, Miss…” I started, my voice sounding a bit pathetic even to my ears, “I have several questions about the party…”

“Go get some refreshments, and then you can join us in the salon, okay, Alex?”

It became obvious that our heated tryst of earlier was now on the back burner, and I can’t say that I was entirely unhappy about that. In fact, the Dean’s interruption had been advantageous. As badly as I wanted to lay claim to my Mistress in the biblical (do pardon that pun) sense, I was not thrilled with something so significant being fulfilled spontaneously. I still wanted control over that.

I entered the kitchen to make some refreshments, and told Uncle Rafael that he was free to leave, as it appeared the Dean was going to stay for a bit longer. He said he’d wait it out as he’d started a fresh pot of Marinara and it just had to steep. I sighed, and whipped up some goodies as quickly as possible – I didn’t have much time, so I went with something simple, Deviled ham hors d'oeuvres and sugared plum petit-fours, along with some tea and coffee, assembling the treats as fast as I could. I left, taking the beverages and the treats into the salon with me, before Gilda could completely monopolize the Dean’s time.

At one point an hour or so later, Uncle Rafael entered the salon with some mozzarella sticks and marinara, and for a moment we had an issue. Obviously, he’d made the innocent assumption that the Dean had already left, but we were in fact still talking. Rafael stood stock-still, realizing his mistake, and stared at the Dean with a plate full of food in his hands.

“Don’t I know you?”

They had met once or twice over the years, as Fortunado was technically Rafael’s ward, and it was Rafael’s signature on the checks that paid his enormous tuition bills.

I looked at the Dean. He was looking at Rafael, who in turn looked at Gilda, with desperation on his face. She swallowed hard. Rafael looked at me. I looked at Gilda. She wasn’t going to speak up either, stricken as she was.

“This is... our chef, Guido.” Dean Manners looked at me. “He’s bringing Miss Gilda her evening snack.”

“No, no… I’ve swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

There was silence before Rafael broke into a hapless grin and bowed one too many times, while blubbering in the most atrocious Italian accent I have ever heard in my long, trying existence.

“Scoozey, gratsy, ah… Espresso. Formaggio! Marinara?” he asked, showing the Dean the tray.

I put a hand to my head and sighed before taking the tray, setting it down on a table and ushering the man out of the room.

“So sorry,” I said, re-entering the room.

“He looked terrified,” the Dean said. “Is he all right?”

“Indeed. Guido is a brilliant chef but he gets rather flustered when actually confronted with a guest. I assure you, Dean Manners, he won’t be an issue at the party.”

“Oh, that’s okay. With great chefs, personality quirks are the norm. I can hardly wait to see what he cooks up!”

“I am sure it will be delicious. Do you not agree, Mistress?”

She hesitated, looking me in the eye. Smirking, she said, “Everything of chef’s that I have tasted so far has been scrumptious.”

The Dean looked at her.

“I will be sure and tell him that, Mistress. No doubt he will appreciate the compliment.”

The Dean looked at me.

“I should probably give him a raise,” she said, pointedly.

“I am sure he would enjoy that as well.”

The Dean tilted his head at us, no doubt sensing something more to the conversation. Before that could go any further, I cleared my throat and Gilda got Manners’ attention back onto her composition.

As the afternoon bled into evening, the poor man was torn between answering Gilda’s questions and mine. Given our personalities, it was no surprise that we began competing for Dean Manners’ attention.

Eventually Gilda got what she needed from the Dean and began incorporating his suggestions into her notes. As she sat quietly on the couch in the salon, one pencil propped on her ear and another already in her mouth, her notes were spread out on the table before her, and she appeared to be oblivious to us both now. Smiling, Manners shook his head and followed me into the main hall.

“I haven’t had a student like that in years. Dedicated to the point of rudeness, but you forgive her every time. She’s quite the charmer, isn’t she?” he mused, as I steered him into the study.

“Yes, sir. My Miss is a remarkable young woman.”

“And to have a concerto written in your honor! She must be very fond of you, Mr. Michaelis.”

The feeling is mutual.

“Indeed. I am beside myself with flattery.”

Manners left a little while after that, after answering my questions and promising to ‘email’ me the guest list as soon as he got home. There was a lot to do and I was thrilled to do it. But there was something else thrilling that I still wanted to do…

Ah, no such luck. Manners had stayed well into the evening, long past when the staff had snuck out. By the time I opened the gate for the Dean and locked up, I found Gilda fast asleep on a pile of notes on the couch.

Sighing, I put sex out of my mind for the time being, and carried her upstairs. Her bath would have to wait until the morning. She never woke up, not even as I changed her clothes for bed. She muttered in her sleep a bit, though, saying things like allegro and last and better. I didn’t take much for me to figure that one out. With the Dean’s approval and long visit behind us, it was clear she was going to be obsessed with polishing her recital piece.

Here we go again. I was going to have to work even harder to get her attention back on me. But I only needed it for a moment. Just long enough to spark her desire again, and then… I would take her.

+

Several days passed, and it was now Saturday. Her conducting final was next Thursday, and the party was the week after that.

We did not resume what we had started on the couch in my room. In fact, we had barely even behaved in a flirtatious manner. She was spending her days in the salon, scratching out notes on staff paper, practicing, cursing. I fed her regularly, bathing and clothed her as needed, but she was like an animal – a maddened, albeit intelligent bird, obsessed with re-feathering its nest over and over each day. She woke up and got right to work, didn’t return her friend’s calls, and stayed up late into the night pouring over her notes in either the salon or the library.

I spent my time taking care of her, carrying her sleeping form up to bed at night, and of course planning and beginning to make arrangements for the party. However, I had an obsession of my own to deal with, and she wasn’t cooperating.

By Saturday afternoon I’d had my fill. The weather was beautiful, warm sunshine with a few breezy clouds in a clear sky. It was seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit, which was warm enough for bare feet, but not hot enough to be uncomfortable. Packing a delicious picnic basket with all the supplies, I left the house to find a nice spot on her vast property for an impromptu date. Well, it would be impromptu for her.

She didn’t even notice I had left the house when I came back in, entered the salon, and picked her up – stripping her fingers right off the keys of that damn piano, and lifting her from the bench.

“Alex, what the fuck–”

“Miss needs a break,” I said pleasantly, my eyes twinkling.

“I need to work–”

“Indulge me,” I said flatly, mimicking my own behavior from that time last Fall when I was worried that David Taylor had possibly hurt her wrists. I felt my eyes aglow, and my fangs had popped out for good measure.

She quieted, looking subdued, and slowly put her hands around my shoulders.

“There’s a good girl,” I said, cheerfulness returning to my voice.

I carried her to the French doors of the salon, and managed to get one of them opened. I began to run with her in my arms, and at first she hid her face from the wind, but when she felt me lift into the air, she opened her eyes and grinned.

Adrenaline junkie. I had forgotten this.

Hopping from tree tops to rock formations, I leapt over a medium-sized stream and entered a line of trees. I slowed to a walk, and about two minutes later we were standing at the edge of a clearing. It was circular, close to two hundred feet in diameter, and was bordered on all sides by thick trees, with patches of wildflowers and boulders dotted throughout the clearing. Her eyes lit up at the sight.

“Does Miss approve?”

“It’s beautiful, Alex. But what am I approving it for?”

Setting her to her feet, I walked behind a boulder and re-appeared with the picnic basket and large blanket. Coming up to her, she grinned, and I asked her to hold the basket for me for a moment.

“Where are you going?” she asked, as I headed towards the center of the clearing.

“Do not be alarmed. You should be safe where you are standing. Please… will you stay there until I come back, Miss?”

“All… All right,” she said, sounding confused.

She watched as I walked towards the center with the blanket, and turned a few times, inspecting a clear spot. I paused, gathering my energy, then stomped on the ground with one foot, shaking the earth and sending a small amount of my demonic force skittering across the grass and rocks. I had only intended for it to affect a thirty-foot radius or so, but when I looked up at Gilda, she had fallen to her knees.

Fearing for her safety, I dropped the blanket and returned to her side in an instant.

“Are you all right, Miss? Miss!”

She shook her head, as if to clear it. When I put my hands on her and got her to her feet, she wavered just a bit.

“I’m okay,” she muttered. “Wow. I’m… What was that?”

“I let loose some of my energy. Did you actually feel that, Mistress?”

“Yeah. It was… well, I don’t know how to describe it.”

“You should not have felt that. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“No, not at all. It didn’t hurt. It just kind of buzzed,” she smiled at me. “What were you doing, anyway?”

“I obliterated all the nearby bugs so that they will not disturb our luncheon.”

She grinned happily. “Oh, Alexander… you’re the best.”

+

I prepared the courses, and presented each one to her. She ate every bite, praising me with compliments as she went. We chatted some in-between plates, mostly about nothing, but it was very pleasant. When she finished, I suggested she rest her head in my lap and take a nap. She agreed, and I thought she would sleep some. The plan was to fill her full of good food, then have her drift off. Then I could lay her down on the blanket, and wake her up some time later in the most agreeable fashion.

Despite the fact that I was running my hands through her hair and caressing her face, she simply wasn’t sleepy. On to plan ‘B’, which was, simply, to take her.

Eventually Gilda rolled over and lay on her stomach next to my side. She kicked off her flip flops, and crossed her legs at the ankles. Resting her chin on her folded arms, she closed her eyes and hummed as I rubbed her back through her soft t-shirt.

No brassiere. Good. Less to remove.

I perused the rest of her outfit, once again noting with chagrin her skirt. She was wearing that god-forsaken plaid school-girl number again. It was hideous, but it did provide me with a splendid view of her legs. Some time passed, me eventually getting my hand under her t-shirt, stroking smooth skin. I gazed at her strong legs, dreaming about how good they’d feel wrapped around my waist… when I noticed she was not asleep at all. She was very much awake and… practicing on the blanket.

Good Lord.

My fangs were beginning to grind.

“It’s a lovely day today, Mistress, is it not?”

Nothing. She just kept pressing those damnable imaginary keys.

“A bit warm perhaps, considering it is still Spring. But there is a very pleasant breeze.”

“Uh huh,” she muttered, obviously not listening.

“Did you know that the moles on your back can be connected to form the constellation for Ursa Major?” I’ve spent enough time looking at her back to know that it’s true.

“Uh...”

“Legend has it that Zeus created that astronomical pattern when he turned Callisto into a bear and tossed her into the heavens.”

Silence.

“Callisto was a nymph, you know. They were rather uninhibited when it came to sex.”

She banged out a few more notes on the blanket, then stopped.

“What?” she said, annoyed. She sat up. “What are you going on about?”

I cocked an eyebrow. Sex. Apparently that word had made it through. It was now or never.

Reaching out with hands too quick for her to see, I grabbed Gilda and sat her in my lap, leaning her back. When she gasped, her mouth opened, and I seized the opportunity to put my tongue in it.

She fought me for just a moment, then she stilled and kissed me back. Cradling her neck in my hand, I let that go on for a bit. When she moaned quietly, I pulled back and kissed the tip of her nose.

“There. Now that I have your attention, you need to stop thinking about your recital. You need to relax. So for now… just think about me.”

Gilda frowned, then smirked rudely at me. “Think? About you? Heh…”

“And just what was that laugh for?”

“This is my piano recital we are talking about. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than a kiss, Demon.”

My only response was to stare down at her. I was wounded, I tell you. One kiss from me and she’s usually the one barreling forward with the clothes-pulling and bare-skin stroking. Instead, Gilda sighed disgustedly at my silence, and tried to get up.

Oh no. Not this time.

I held her down. She glanced up at me, and for a moment, she looked frightened. Then I watched, delighted, as her resolve kicked in and that sweet stubborn streak bubbled up. She began to struggle and I began to laugh.

“Let me up, Alex!”

“But, it was a very good kiss, Mistress.”

Now, at this point you are probably thinking that I could have gotten rough with her in order to get my way. I imagine the more intelligent members of your community are saying that I should get rough with the little brat, and you are probably correct. But, I took another tack, and for once I am delighted to report that I got it right in one.

Gilda froze as she felt one of my hands sneak down to finger the hem of her blasphemously short plaid skirt. Slowly, but with confident purpose, I slid the tips of my fingers over the crisp edge of the wool. She gaped at me for just a moment, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I put forth a lot of effort into this little outing. You need to learn some manners, my dear.”

I slid my hand up her hip, her smooth skin growing hot against mine. My fingers reached the silk of her boy shorts, and I felt her entire body twitch. She pinked up for me all right – Magenta. Lovely.

It was a Saturday. Playing by the rules it was her day to pick her clothing, but I felt gratified that she’d at least worn the panties I’d set out for her that morning. I hadn’t picked the harlot-in-heat ensemble she was about to be divested of, of course, that was all her decision. And yet, that damn skirt was proving itself to be yet another advantage for me, because I had, in fact, foolishly selected walking shorts, and there is nothing like an open floor plan!

She still hadn’t said anything. Hopefully it would stay that way for a bit. I fisted my hand and gently slid my knuckles back and forth over her sex through the thin silk membrane. She whimpered.

“Am I doing better, then?” I teased.

She swallowed. I decided to skip a few steps, and moved two fingers past the crotch of her underwear. Slipping them inside of her only about halfway, I watched as she gripped the sleeve of the arm restraining her. She threw her head back, gasping.

Pleased with myself, I waited a beat, then asked, “Have you finally stopped thinking about piano keys?”

“Bastard,” she whispered angrily, looking back up at me.

I pulled my fingers out and quickly grabbed the crotch of her panties, yanking them down her thighs and past her knees, leaving them winding around her ankles. She shifted her legs, probably with the intent to try and get herself free of the garment, but that gave me an opening. Literally.

I cupped her sex and rested the pad of my thumb on her clitoris.

Oh, the clitoris! Have I ever told you how much I like that little thing? Someday I shall write a volume of sonnets dedicated to it. It’ll be a two-sided book; one side devoted to the clitoris, the other to the penis, and they shall meet in a glorious center spread, with adorable color plates illustrating all the various ways to –

“Alex… don’t. Someone could…”

She pulled me out of my reverie, and I laughed out loud. “No one could anything. Your property spans many acres. It has an eight-foot electric fence on every border. We’re a little over a mile and a half from the house. It’s Saturday. The staff is not here. You can scream your pretty little head off,” I said, and I noticed my voice had gone husky.

“Scream…?” she started, then swallowed hard. “Wh… What exactly are you planning here, Alex?”

I stared down at her, all-too-serious. “I intend to finish what you began in my room,” I said quietly. When she didn’t answer, I asked, “Does Miss have any objections to my plan?”

Please, please, please do not deny me this.

“No,” she whispered. She looked both intrigued and frightened, and I admit the combination thoroughly excited me… but it was time to stop being silly.

I lifted Gilda from my lap and set her down on the blanket next to me. She removed the panties from her ankles and readjusted her position until she mimicked me, also kneeling. Her face still looked frightened, but I knew her well enough that if she truly felt as though she were in any danger, she’d have tried to run by now.

I toed off my shoes and pulled off my socks, throwing them somewhere behind me. “Let’s get more comfortable, shall we?” I asked, smiling cheerfully and reaching for her.

“So… do you intend to get naked as well, or are you just gonna… get comfortable?”

Her question stopped my hands cold. “Has that been an issue for you, Miss?”

She tilted her head, looking away. “Sometimes…”

“Why?”

“You’ve been reluctant to let me touch you. And when you have been naked with me, it never involves…”

“My penis?”

“I was going to say you don’t take anything for yourself, but yes. Your penis,” She swallowed. “I’m not sure what I’m going to get here. I mean, if you’re gonna strip me bare and play with me to your heart’s content, that’s great. But if you are planning on having real sex with me, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t just pull junior out of your zipper and go at it, fully clothed…” She eyed me then. “Maybe I’m being greedy, Alex… But I want more. I want you there with me when it happens. Naked. Moving inside of me… Coming. I want the whole damn thing.”

She looked down then, playing with the edge of her skirt. I think she was embarrassed to have told such a truth, but what she didn’t realize yet was that I wanted the exact same thing.

I hadn’t given her any reason to expect it, however. My fault. I should have known better than to think she’d just accept whatever I told her, and not start analyzing things. She wasn’t yet nude, but some sort of declaration on my part was clearly needed, and quickly, before this turned into an argument.

In the blink of an eye I had my clothes off, every last stitch of fabric, and was kneeling before her again.

“Naked. Two more to go.”

She grinned.

Now… it was her turn.

I got up to my knees and inched towards her slowly.

Reaching out to touch her chest, I stroked her breasts through the soft cotton of her t-shirt, until the nipples hardened to points under my fingers. Gilda’s head tilted and her eyes closed. She moaned softly, raising her hands to cover mine, not pushing me, not directing me… just following the movements of my hands with her own.

“Do you like that?” I whispered. I loved that she was deep in the moment, but we were just getting started. When her eyes opened, they were dark with lust, and I felt her tremble under my hands.

“Very much,” she whispered back, her voice shaking.

“Let’s take this off. I want to see those cute little nipples.” She removed her hands from mine as I clutched the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head slowly. Her breasts bobbed free of the fabric, round and supple in the sun, nipples so tight from the stimulation. Gently, I dragged the t-shirt the rest of the way over her head, until her arms slid through the sleeves and her long hair snaked through the neck.

Her t-shirt got tossed onto the grass with the other articles of clothing, and her upper body was now exposed. There was no way I was going to take my eyes off of her, not with all that beautiful flesh in front of me. I reached for a breast with one hand, cupping the bottom. Stroking the side of her face with my other hand, I looked her in the eyes.

“So beautiful.”

Magenta, head to toe. She smiled and averted her eyes. Leaning forward, I kissed and tasted her nipples assiduously, moving from one side to the other and back again. Gilda trembled further, lolling her head back. She ran a hand though my dark hair, and clutched at my shoulder with the other.

“Alex…”

I murmured an agreement, not yet ready to stop sampling her luscious breasts. Her body rose to meet my mouth, and I smelled the rich, ripe scent of her arousal as it intensified. Kissing my way up her décolletage to her lips, I wrapped my arms around her, trapping her against my chest. With Gilda’s palms resting there, I broke the kiss and spoke against her lips.

“Will you touch me, Miss?”

She nodded, swallowing hard. Her fingers were shaking, almost uncontrollably, as she reached down between us and grazed me, partially erect, with her fingertips. She tried to still them enough to wrap a hand around me, but she simply couldn’t accomplish it. Gilda cursed under her breath, and I noticed her voice was shaking as badly as her hands.

I expected her to be nervous, but not this much. Scaring her to death was not part of the plan, so I forced myself to bury any frustration I may have felt in light of Gilda’s obvious jitters. I took her trembling hands in my own, stilling her, and looked in her eyes.

“Miss is scared.”

“Yeah. A little.”

“You certainly aren’t a virgin.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that, Alex.”

“Then tell me. You must tell me. I can detect what you are feeling in your scent, but I will never be able to read your mind.”

“I’ve never actually…” she swallowed. “I’ve never been in love before, so I’ve never been with someone… while feeling like that.”

“You were eager to have me that day in my room.”

“I know. But I approached you. And we were frantic. This is… different.”

“Better?”

“Yes. Definitely. Just… scary.”

I smiled at her, our faces very close. Touching her forehead with mine, I whispered, “I promise you that I will not hurt you, and you have no reason to be afraid, but I understand why you feel that way. Be assured I am neither put off nor offended by it.” Setting her hands aside, I took her face in my hands and kissed her. “Leave everything to me.”

I removed her skirt, the last barrier between us, then asked her to lay across the blanket. She nodded, complying. I looked down at her nude body, so beautiful in the sunlight. “Such a gift,” I said, leaning over her and kissing her contract mark lightly, carefully avoiding that sensitive, tumescent mons I loved so well.

Slowly, I reminded myself. Do not rush. Be like molasses.

I licked her belly button and kissed her hipbones. My cock brushed against her knee as I shifted again, and the contact sent tremors though us both. When I finally reached her mound, I kissed it lightly, over and over, listening to her struggle to keep from whining and writhing beneath me. She ran her fingers through my hair, and I purred in contentment, rubbing the side of my face against her body.

“Mistress is so receptive to my touch. She makes me feel young again.”

“Alex?” she asked, and my eyes traveled up her body until my gaze rested on her face.

“Yes, my Young Miss?”

“How about I try touching you again?”

“Of course. Please do.”

We both sat up, her head lower than mine as I was still kneeling. Gently, Gilda took my cock in her hands, still trembling, but not nearly as much. She tested my foreskin, moving it back and forth over the ridge of the glans. I sighed and hardened, slowly, as I relished the feel of her soft, slightly cold hands timidly exploring my genitals. When she leaned in and kissed my chest, my cock twitched in her hands and she hummed happily.

My Gilda. Mature beyond her years in many ways, yet still like a child in others.

Taking her shoulders in my hands, I maneuvered Gilda until she was stretched out across the blanket again. Laying down casually on my side next to her, I rested my swollen cock across her hipbone, and placed a hand on her tummy, rubbing the contract mark.

“Miss is satisfied with my body?”

She paused, gazing over at me. “Satisfied doesn’t begin to cut it, Alex. You’re beautiful, every inch of you, and I want you inside me.” She shivered again.

“Patience,” I said, looking down at her with affection.

I leaned over to kiss her, my hand traveling up to her breast. Keeping most of my weight on the blanket, I rolled a bit more towards her, draping myself halfway across her body. My erection moved with me, now rubbing against her precious mound, and she shivered. I froze when she reached down to trap my shaft with her palm and used it to push down against her body. I smiled at her as her eyes closed and she gasped.

She sighed. “What is this… here?” Gilda continued to rub the side of my cock against her mound, oblivious to what her actions may have been doing to me. She closed her eyes again and her back arched as she continued, pushing down on herself with my hardened cock, using it as she pleased.

Good. If we are going to do this, I want her selfish.

“That is called your mons, and yours is particularly sensitive.” I ground out the words, trying not to sound like her use of my cock as a makeshift sex toy wasn’t about to undo me altogether.

“I like it when you touch me there.”

“Hm… I like what you are doing right now, Miss… But,” I began, pushing her hand away, “I think we need to move on.” She bit her lip, blushing fiercely. She looked like she was about to apologize, so I stopped her with another kiss.

I distracted her with many sweet kisses while I maneuvered myself until I was laying between her legs. Sitting up on my haunches, I took her ankles in my hands. She whispered, “You’re sneaky,” and smiled up at me.

“Indeed. One of my best qualities.”

Looming above her as she lay on her back, I bucked my hips forward, and my cock slid against her lower stomach, back and forth over that sensitive spot we have both come to love so well.

I smiled down at her. Such a lovely view. “Tell me what else you like.”

“Kissing. I love the way you kiss.”

“That is something we both excel at.”

I thrust against her stomach again, watching her carefully, making sure she was ready for what was about to happen. I backed my hips off from hers with each downward stroke, just a little bit more each time, until I had backed off so much that I was nearly falling off of her, and my glans was just beginning to poke at her clitoral hood.

“Alex,” she cried, lolling her head to the side and biting a finger. With the next stroke, I pushed myself into her, about two inches, and stilled.

“Oh… Alex. Alex, that’s…” her voice trailed off, unable to finish. She didn’t need to.

“Ah… my Mistress.”

Our hearts were beating rapidly in our chests, and I had to struggle not to just push and claim and come, forget the molasses, just fuck her silly–

But that isn’t what she wanted. It isn’t what she needed. And I lived to fulfill her needs.

Slowly, surely, I began to thrust again, further and further in each time, until I was finally buried in her. I pulled myself out, everything but the head, because it refused to vacate that soft, wet paradise now that it had its first taste. In and out, over and over. She felt like creamy velvet against my shaft, growing wetter with each stroke.

She moaned softly again, and opened her eyes to look up at me.

“All right?” I asked, my voice gentle. I swear I love this girl, but if she tells me to stop I won’t be able to. I’ll refuse, and then she’ll never know anything, except greed and rape, and–

“That’s two,” she managed to quip, smiling nervously. “You’re moving inside me, Alex.”

“So sweet,” I said, smirking down at her.

Lowering my grip on her legs to her calves, I moved just a tad faster, using long, constant strokes. I felt the steady rhythm of my movements undoing her composure. Her desire was coiling up inside of her, waiting to spring. Her soul was wide awake, taking note of all I was doing to her, teasing me, cheering me on.

Faster still, just a bit. My hands slid down to grip the backs of her thighs. Her legs stiffened and she cried out when my demon nails popped out and pressed deep into her flesh. I stopped thrusting and backed my nails off, but then Gilda sat up slightly, looking distraught.

“No, no, no…” she whispered, “It’s good. I like that. Don’t stop.”

I dug them in again, smiling down at her wickedly. Not hard enough to draw blood, never like that.

Well… not unless she told me to. But they’d leave marks for a few days. As long as she didn’t go in swimming with her friends or wear shorts on Tuesdays, our secret would be kept safe.

Gilda squirmed for a moment at the pain, grinning, and then lay back down. I resumed pushing into her.

Several minutes went by, both of us lost to what we were doing. No talking, just the magical, wonderful rhythm of our bodies meeting for the first time. I was just as content to stay in our current position until I drove her to the edge, following her over it per her wishes… when she spoke my name and I looked down at her, questioning the strange expression on her face.

“Come down here, please,” she begged, reaching up to me with trembling, empty hands.

I cocked an eyebrow at her, confused. My ears had heard her words but there had been no comprehension. All I was aware of was wet and soft and tight and Gilda.

“Alex,” she whimpered, “Please? Where are you? I feel like I’m floating away.”

Eventually enough blood made it back into my brain and I realized that Gilda needed me closer. I released her legs from my hands and lowered myself against her, laying almost entirely on top of her. Holding her tight, I stilled our bodies from all that movement.

Too much too soon.

“I’ve got you Miss, you’re fine,” I whispered. I reached back to lift her legs up again, one at a time, until they were wrapped around my waist. “Hang on to me.”

She placed her hands on my chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand why I’m–”

I cut her off, kissing her quickly, deeply.

Normally I didn’t go in for this much attachment during sex. I kept a bit of distance between myself and the prey, even if it was just a thin veil, and did not lay myself so bare to them. Demon, remember? But I just couldn’t help it with her; Gilda’s soul was dancing just beneath her skin, full of wonder and fear and love, and I wanted to bathe in it.

Pushing into her gently, I whispered, “Don’t think anymore, my sweet Miss.” My voice was hot against her neck. “Just feel.”

Our bodies slid against each other, slick with moisture. I managed to get a hand under her neck to support her as I moved faster, my hips undulating against her pelvis. All that contact only increased the sounds our bodies made, delicious smacking noises mingled with moans of pleasure.

We stayed on like that, pressed against each other and moving like the same creature. My head was beginning to spin, I still wasn’t sure if I truly wanted to come, but she’d practically ordered me to and I knew I wouldn’t be able to prevent it–

“Alex, I’m…”

I saw the signs. “Faster now, Miss, hold onto me,” I managed, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I picked up the pace as I moved inside her.

“So… So close,” she whispered, and her eyes shut tight as she slid her hands past my neck and pressed the pads of her fingers into my back. She crossed her ankles behind me and her back began to arch.

Little by little, I’d let it all go. No more holding back. No more waiting. She’d wanted this from me for such a long time, and I finally felt free enough to give it to her.

Gilda began digging her short fingernails into my skin. I growled in response, turning my head to the side so that I could claim her lips in a deep kiss. I was thrusting more aggressively than I imagined I ever could with such a sweet, non-violent girl. She whined once more, then I felt her orgasm hit. Gilda tore her mouth from mine and cried out the name she’d given me. It sounded sweet and plaintive on her lips, as though it were music that only I could hear.

“Mistress,” I whispered in her ear before I could stop myself. My voice was shaking, and if it sounded like I was begging, that’s because I was. Watching her come like that, so strong, I lost the battle for control.

I indulged myself in her abandon and we fell into that state of bliss together. I never wanted this sensation to end. It felt like forever as my fluid poured into her, her privates clenching around me, hearing her sigh the approval of my release, because of course… she knew.

I had finally taken something for myself.

+

I’ve had sex with plenty of humans over the millennia, coming off as I please left and right. But I hadn’t attained this level of intimacy with a soul of Gilda’s quality for nearly six and a half centuries. Not since the Duchess Torylox, and to be quite frank, that woman hadn’t even liked me all that much. It was as though I had come back to life. It felt so good to finally let go like that. Everything we’d done before this had been very pleasant, but it felt so much better when I wasn’t forcing myself to hold back.

Gilda lay underneath me on our blanket for a long time while we both returned to earth after the marvelous high that only comes from an orgasm. Her legs were still wrapped tight around my waist, my hands were buried in her hair, my lips at her throat. I could feel the strong pulse of her jugular under my mouth. My sensitive ears heard the rush of her hot blood as it coursed through her heart, and I reveled in the warmth of her human body while it clung to mine.

Eventually I wrapped my arms around her, and got us into a sitting position with Gilda straddling my lap. I felt her trembling, though, and grew slightly concerned that I may have been too rough with her.

“Miss?”

“Just a minute,” she said, and her voice shook. “Just let me–”

She inhaled sharply and did not finish. I could smell the tears even before they began to fall from her eyes. I knew she was fighting with an intense emotional reaction, I could smell it, and she was probably embarrassed because she thought I’d hate it.

But this was Gilda. She was not Ciel and she was certainly not the duchess. These tears were far from offensive. They had quite the opposite effect on me. And I didn’t feel a single ounce of guilt for having brought her to such a state.

I am not above teasing, however, even with one who adores me so.

She remained straddled across my lap, our bodies still joined, but she hid her face over my shoulder. It was too funny, really, and I allowed myself a wicked smile because she could not see me doing it.

“Let me guess. You need me, you want me… You’re in love with me, yes?”

“Yes,” she said around her tears, sounding miserable for having to admit it out loud, which made me chuckle. “Stop laughing at me,” she yelled, and pounded a fist on my shoulder. “Just because you don’t feel that way… fucking demon.”

“Yes, I am a ‘fucking demon’, which makes your anger towards me unjustified. I honestly cannot help myself, Miss. You’re too easy a target. But, I will admit,” she sniffed again, and leaned back to focus on my face. “You have become more important to me than anyone else in the entire universe. How’s that for devotion to one’s employer?” She sighed angrily, then sobbed again, clinging tighter. I ran my hands over her bare back, slick with sweat. So nice.

“I take it you’ve never had an orgasm like that before?”

“No, I haven’t, all right?” She balanced herself on my shoulders and sat up for a moment, separating our bodies. All those wonderful, warm, sticky fluids seeped out, their scents wafting up between us to my sensitive nose.

What an amazing combination, petulant anger and extreme love radiating through her scent at the same time. I wiped away her tears, noting that they were already slowing down.

“Tell me what it felt like.”

“Like… Like I was trying to bust out of my skin.”

“Quite an accurate description. You were busting out – or at least your soul was trying to, Miss. It was quite pleasant for me as well, because that was the most potent taste of it I’ve had yet.” She sighed, calming down. “The French call this feeling la petite mort… the ‘little death’. Hedonistic idiots that they are, they actually got that one right.”

“Alex…” she whispered, looking down. “It’s always been so lackluster. Actually being with someone, I mean. But that felt… amazing.” She lifted her eyes to mine, and they were captivating; glassy, dark, red-rimmed, framed by a flushed face. “I didn’t know it…” Gilda’s voice trailed off. She sniffed again, and a fresh bout of tears followed. When she hugged me tight, I squeezed back, but I honestly could not stop myself from poking even more fun at my fierce little Miss.

“Do you see, now? I told you this would happen.” I tried to scold, but was unable to hide the humor in my voice.

“Oh, shut up. My heart isn’t breaking, you idiot. It’s the pheromones.”

“That expression is a cultural solecism. It is ambiguous.”

She winced. “Huh?”

“Pheromones play their part before mating. What you are feeling the effects of right now is a hormone, actually,” I corrected her.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Endorphins. Is that better?”

“Oxytocin, to be specific. A brain hormone, released during childbirth and sex.”

“Way to kill the mood, Alex. Sorry if I’m not being grammatically specific enough for you here,” she snapped. “I’m just a little… overwhelmed is all,”

“Apologies, Miss. That is not quite what I was referring to. I know your heart is not breaking. In fact, you are radiating so much affection for me right now it is making my head spin. A rather pleasant feeling, I might add.” She leaned back, looking a bit startled, so I wiped away more tears and kissed her. Gilda returned the kiss, but when she narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously, I chuckled.

“All I am trying to say is that I have ruined you.”

She frowned, clearly irritated. “Ruined me?! How? It’s just a few tears, for fuck’s sake, gimme a bre–”

“But I have ruined you,” I said, interrupting her. She quieted as I wiped the rest of her tears away and smiled sweetly. “I have now had proper intercourse with you. I have taken you every possible way, save other positions that involve penetration, and you are completely in love with me… so now you will no longer be satisfied by sex with a mere human being, ever again,” I said smugly.

What? It’s the truth, and I bet you’d give a limb just to find out for yourself.

Gilda frowned, contemplating all I had said. She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped and pouted briefly. She rolled her eyes and let go the breath she was holding.

“Oh, all right. So I’m ruined. Happy?”

I should have been the one asking her that, but instead I couldn’t help myself and became smug again.

“Deliriously so.”

Gilda tried to look appalled at my conceit, but failed. Shaking her head, she gave in.

“Please, don’t make anymore fun. Maybe what just happened is an everyday thing for you, but this was a big deal for me.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never had, and never will have an orgasm like that. Few of my kind can. We don’t have the capacity.”

“You’re telling me that you have no soul? So you can’t have a…?”

“Little death.”

“Yeah, that. I find that hard to believe.”

“We have souls. But the quality of the one you possess is as rare amongst demons as it is amongst humans. So I tease you, yes, but you should realize that it is partly because I am thoroughly jealous of you.”

“Oh. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize.”

“Well, I’ll be in here soon enough,” she said, rubbing her palms against my bare chest. “If I have an orgasm in oblivion, will you feel it?”

It was quite clear this experience had rattled her – in a good way, of course, but it had unsettled her. And unfortunately I didn’t have an answer to her question, even if I had wanted to answer it. Which I didn’t – I didn’t want to think about ending her life anymore. I wanted her chanting my name and in tears again.

She shivered, and I laid her down on the blanket on her back. Reclining on my side next to her, I kissed her softly for a long time.

My precious Miss.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you as well.”

I hadn’t even hesitated with that response.

She smiled up at me, and I knew right then she fully understood the situation. It was two different loves, because we were two different species. As ingrained as that knowledge has been in my brain for thousands of years, I realized it was not lost on Gilda, either, and that was a very comforting thought.

I leaned over, whispering in her ear. “Forgive this old demon for making light of your first little death… but this was just one. There will be many, many more to follow. I will see to it.”

Gilda stared at me, looking trapped. She began to shake again.

I smelled something in her; it was the same odor she was giving off not twenty minutes ago. It seemed familiar, and I realized it was adrenaline, coursing through her body. I had smelled it when we flew down from the Statue of Liberty, and again when I came back to her in the parking lot of that bait shop.

Ah… Adrenaline Junkie, indeed. Naked sex and full-body orgasm wasn’t just an expression of love for her, it was a rush. Such a lovely, complex fragrance. How spectacular!

I know I am obsessed with deciphering and examining a delicate situation such as this, but some of the more confusing pieces were beginning to fit together. Deep in my black heart, I am still a bit perplexed at the fact that she can love a demon! I mean to eat her soul, and she knows this; therefore, at the end of things, she adores nothing less than her own killer.

Gilda is a complicated human, as some of you are, but rarely. Artists, like scientists, often walk the line between hate and love. Oh, the distinction between the two remains – as you are human it cannot be helped. But the resistance towards fear versus the enthusiasm towards comfort is no longer an issue. All experiences become welcome… They feel joy watching a wolf protect and tend to its offspring, all the while knowing that this same wolf will later chase and kill a cute little bunny to nourish those babies. That part won’t be ‘fun’ to witness, but they do not recoil from it. They accept it.

She continued to gaze up at me, shaking like a rabbit as it faces certain doom. As long as she still desires it, I will be her wolf.

“Well then… seeing as how we are already divested of our clothing, and you do not appear to be tired… shall we give it another go, Mistress?”

+

“That party you got goin’ on next week? For the school kids?”

“…Yes?”

“The Derricott kid’s gonna be at it. Just keep an eye on her.”

It was the Tuesday before Gilda’s conducting final, and Uncle Rafael was speaking quietly with me in the kitchen. The staff, along with Rafael’s underworld contacts, managed to dig up some dirt on Linda Derricott’s father and his connection to Norman Bellows.

“I really don’t think her daddy’s gonna do anything dumb. He was in on it, but he’s the type that refuses to get his hands dirty. So he lost quite a bit of cash helping Norm out, but the Derricotts have got a lot to spare, if you get my drift. As of right now, he just looks like another one of Bellows’ victims. So he’d be risking having his own finances investigated if he did anything stupid now.”

“I appreciate your confidence, Uncle Rafael… but that doesn’t set my mind at ease concerning Miss Franks’ safety. Not after the attack on her last autumn.”

The man sighed. He wore all his years on his face, plus more, actually, and it was clear he was no stranger to this kind of thing.

“Well, like I said, I doubt Derricott will do anything. But his sweet lil’ Linda is known to be a spoiled brat trouble-maker that defies him constantly, so, yeah, I’d keep an eye on her. You can’t uninvite her, that’d look suspicious. But keep her in your sights. She will probably try to do something petty and vengeful, like embarrass Gilda. But I doubt it’d go any further than that. O’course, if you catch her in the act of something… well, that’s a different story, ain’t it?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “I understand.”

“I got people looking into it… Watching things. Look. Michaelis, I know you’re cautious and you want to do something about it now. Yer proactive, and I get that. But I tell you we can’t move on it unless they move first. I still say he won’t move at all. So just try to be patient.”

I sighed. Patience was one of my strong suits, but not unlike Rafael Fernandez, I didn’t like loose ends, either.

+

The tiny dressing room we were waiting in was hot and stuffy. Performance always seems so glamorous until you get backstage, and then that fantasy falls apart. You either stick with it because you love it, or the love affair ends right then and there.

It was the evening of her conducting final, and Gilda – and I, as her ‘attendant’ – were ushered in here shortly after Fortunado’s wonderful performance. The young man’s versatile and intelligent style in front of an orchestra was already beginning to show. The piece had been as challenging as we’d all guessed it would be for him, made more so by the players finally being live and in front of him, but he came through it with full marks. None of us had any worries that the scouts in the audience were sure to come calling with offers of an apprenticeship.

Two more students were preparing to go on next, then my Mistress would be up. She was incredibly nervous! I tried to calm her down by stroking her hair and whispering soothing words, but she just wasn’t having it.

Before now, I had the odd occasion to see Gilda perform before large groups, but that was different. Playing the piano was a breeze for her, even in front of an audience – her recital being the only likely exception to this, as that would be the première of her composition.

This was stage fright, pure and simple. She’d said, It’s one thing to play an instrument, Alex, people are concentrating on the music. But to conduct… people are looking at you. How you move, the size of your ass, what you are wearing. I can’t stand that!

I told her that her clothing was exceptional – no lie, after all, I had been the one that bought it for her – and her ‘moves’ were just fine, and the size of her ass was perfect, along with her legs. She blushed, but my words of encouragement did nothing to alleviate her nerves. I had to give her something else to concentrate on before she had a fit, and we only had about twenty minutes.

“Shall we make a deal, Miss?”

“A deal?” She sat in a chair, fidgeted, then stood up again, wringing her hands. “What for? Why now?”

“Because you are a nervous wreck, and bargaining with me may take your mind off things.”

She stopped pacing and eyed me carefully.

“What are the stakes?”

I smirked.

“Sex.”

She laughed. “Puh-lease, we do that all the time now!”

It’s true we were having a bit of a honeymoon – just without the church and the marriage and the rings and the commitment. Not even a week had passed since the picnic, and I’d pleasured her with proper, mutual intercourse seventeen additional times in five and a half fabulous days.

Yes, dammit, I was counting. It’s an impulse, all right?

I was hurt. “Is it so pedestrian already?” I asked, managing a small pout.

She tilted her head, and looked at me. “Oh…” Gilda put a hand to my cheek and said, “That wasn’t what I meant, Alex. I love everything you do for me. And to me.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” I was worried there, for a moment. “But I am sure Miss has imagined something unique, perhaps even odd… Something that will make being pleasured a reward worthy of your great performance here tonight.”

“That has potential. Okay, I’ll–”

“First… Before you agree, I should tell you my terms if your grade is lower than I expect out of you.”

Gilda crossed her arms, and her cleavage became accentuated in ways that made we wish we had more than twenty minutes.

“Okay. Let’s hear it.”

“You will be blindfolded. I will tie you up. You will be spanked. And I will claim you in ways that defy gravity.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “All right… but when do we get to the part that I won’t like?”

I tilted my head back, looking down my nose at her, dominantly, like the hungry demon I am.

“Those terms are for a grade of ‘B’, or lower. However, if you fail… I will be much, much harsher.”

She swallowed.

“Fine.” Determined. Resolute. Perfect. She was a bit predictable when it came to this kind of manipulation, but the only time she let her guard down like that was with me.

“Your terms, Miss?”

“I wanna love me some Demon.”

Oh… that bitch. I hated that. And I should have known…

I sighed, rolling my eyes a bit. “Which parts does Miss wish to play with?”

“The fangs, obviously, but they shouldn’t count because they’re always there anyhow, right?”

“Correct.”

“I’m not going to bargain for the eyes because if you give me anything else, the eyes seem to show up on their own.”

“Miss is too perceptive.”

She grinned. “Miss likes to stare at her butler.”

I smirked, caressing her face. “Go on.”

“I want the tail, the boots and feathers.”

“Now, don’t be greedy. That’s practically everything.”

“Oh? Everything. Really? So your… um…” she closed her eyes as she blushed.

“My what, Mistress?” I teased.

Exasperated, she stammered. “Y-your… thing. Your co…”

“My penis? Is that what you are trying not to say? My cock?”

“Yes. Your cock,” she said, blushing fiercely. “If that’s ‘practically everything’, then you’re telling me… that is the same in your demon form as it is in your human form?”

“Not at all.” I smiled, eyes flashing. “Quite different, actually. Your body couldn’t handle my true genitalia.”

“Are you bragging about your size, ‘cause–”

“I didn’t say it was larger. I said it was quite different.” I gave Gilda a heated stare.

She gaped up at me for a moment, looking a bit scared.

Good.

Swallowing, she reaffirmed her wishes. “Tail, boots and feathers.”

“How about the tongue?”

“Love the tongue, but… been there, done that. Tail, boots and feathers.”

I balked. “While this final is important, it is not that important. I will not give you both the boots and the tail. One or the other.”

“All right… Boots, feathers… and the pointy ears.”

“Miss drives a hard bargain.”

“It sucks being owned, doesn’t it?” Her confidence was rising and that was exactly what I had intended. “Besides, you once told me that keeping your ears round was actually kind of painful for you.”

“Yes. It is.”

Exquisitely so…

“So that ought to be easy for you, adding in the ears.”

“How about the nails instead?”

“Was I born yesterday, Alex? I get those all the time. I still have little prick marks on my butt from last night. I figure they will pop out on their own as well. You don’t have as much control over them, kind of like your eyes.”

I sighed unpleasantly, and she smirked, knowing she had figured out something else about me that I try to keep hidden. “All right. You have a deal, Mistress.”

She stuck out her hand, smug. Smug and spoiled. I wanted to spank her… Well, I could wait to do that tonight as well. I took the hand she offered and shook it.

Gilda jumped when the door to her dressing room was rapped on.

“Five minutes, Miss Franks,” the impolite call was heard through the door.

She swallowed and let go of me, smoothing down her gown, and I put my hand on the doorknob.

“Alex,” she said, stopping me. “Oh god oh god oh god…”

“Now, now… you were all smug and ready only moments ago. What is this?” I asked, using my authoritative voice.

“I was ready to get fucked by a Demon in a pair of totally hot stilettos. I don’t wanna go out there!”

Stage fright, indeed. I shook my head. “Perhaps you need a little incentive.” I closed the gap between us. Putting one hand on the crook of her waist, I slid my other hand up the back of her neck, then I grabbed her by her loose, wavy hair. Tilting her head back just enough, I kissed her thoroughly.

At first she was clutching at my shirtsleeves, then she grew pliant and moaned into my mouth. When I pulled back, I realized that the kiss might have been a mistake. She was so dazed that she forgot all about conducting and grades and Mountain Kings, and reached for the buttons on my shirt, forcing me to scold her.

“Ah-ah-ah, no, Mistress,” I whispered darkly, and the threat in my voice was enough to stop her. I was still clutching the back of her head in my hand by her thick tresses. “Prove to me you can do this, and I promise to hold to my end of the bargain this evening.”

“I wanna hold something right now, Alex,” she said, her eyes dark with lust and her voice all soft and dreamy.

Oh, but she was a tempting, insatiable morsel.

Be that as it may, I managed to control my human body, because we’d made yet another deal, and you must understand that there was sacredness to such things. I released her, and straightened her lovely hair, grateful that I thought to style it down with a few decorative clips. Turning her around by her shoulders, I pushed her out of the door and then onstage when they called her name.

In the end, Gilda was awarded a ‘B+’, which made our deal difficult to sort through. Not as stellar as an ‘A’, but more than the designated amount for me to win it cleanly.

So, we bargained, yet again.

I got to spank her, while wearing my boots and nothing else. The eyes, ears, fangs and feathers enhanced her fun, and of course my sharp nails did their job. After I satisfied her, Gilda lay before me on her tummy, smiling, languid and spent. When she told me to go ahead and take a bite, I surprised her with my choice of location, sinking my fangs in at the top of her right cheek. It was close enough to actually be her bottom, which I’d been fantasizing about biting for a long time, but I didn’t make it low enough to cause her discomfort while playing the piano.

With the essence of her soul still on my tongue, I looked down at her body before me. I gazed, fondly, at the puncture wounds and the delicate scratch marks I’d decorated those fabulous cheeks with earlier while she rode me like a jockey on a horse. Remembering how she’d cried out, I hardened involuntarily and quickly brought myself to another roaring climax, ejaculating all over the smooth skin of her back.

What a complete experience! Between the spanking, scratches and bites, it seemed her reward that night was all about her backside. That’d make a nice coffee table book as well…

‘All About Their Bums’. The tag line could read: ‘A collection of poems and paintings dedicated to the beautiful backsides of Ciel Phantomhive, Loius DeBrena and Gilda Louise Franks.’

Heh.

Later, while lounging in bed with her, she forced me to bring something else out, but only for show-and-tell.

“Let me see it?” she’d begged.

“You are insistent,” I said, and she shrugged. “I do not want to show you.”

“I order you to,” she whispered saucily.

I sighed, shaking my head.

My demon’s penis was somewhat dark in color, almost gray, and there was no foreskin to play with – something I truly hated about it, not that I didn’t hate everything about my penis in this form, because I did. It was also covered with little back dots, in a precise, cactus-like spiral pattern along the sides of my shaft from the base to just below the ridge of the glans. I told her not to touch it, and after sufficiently manipulating it with my own hand, it was fully erect. The black dots were now centered on small bumps, as if swollen.

Gilda’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “It’s not any bigger, but…”

“Yes,” I said, slightly disgusted, agreeing with her. “I am not proud of it. It’s of no use to me when buttling–”

I had no intention of ejaculating in that form. She’d wanted to see the damn thing, so she was going to get an eyeful now. When I shifted slightly, the black dots suddenly popped out as barbs. They were short, about an eighth of an inch long, with a wicked hook on the end. Shiny, black and sharp, their tips glistened with a clear fluid.

“My god, are those… spikes?”

“No, Miss. They are barbs,” She pointed a finger, intending to touch–

“Do not,” I said, pulling her hand away.

“Why? Are they poisonous?” When I didn’t answer, she gaped at me. “Oh my god! I was just kidding!”

“Unfortunately, you are somewhat correct. It isn’t poison. Immediately before ejaculation, the barbs extend as you see here, and latch onto the flesh of whatever creature we are nestled in.”

“Are you about to come then?”

“No, Mistress, this is only for show. It is uncomfortable, but I can control it – providing you don’t provoke me any further, my dear.”

“No problem,” she said, lifting her hands up as if she were being arrested. I chuckled.

“I simply wanted to satisfy your curiosity.” I shifted again so that I could touch myself easily. “Now, observe.”

I rubbed the tip of my erection – barb-free, thank you very much – with the pad of my now-human fingertip. The barbs began to drip, and I found I had to grit my teeth.

“They are excreting an anesthetic fluid so that they do not sting the prey. As I said, when having sex, this happens immediately before we come, so by this time we have usually stopped thrusting. However…” I said, closing my eyes while I enjoyed the exquisite discomfort of my – hopefully – momentary denial. “The barbs are directional, and should the prey panic and move off of us, they will experience great pain, and often, damage.”

“Eugh,” she spat. “Other than hurting something, what is that for?” she asked, sounding shocked.

“Greed, and nothing more. The barbs are like insurance. A threat, if you will, enabling us to remain in the orifice we have entered until we come off. After ejaculating, they retract, and we are able to pull out without hurting or damaging the prey… although I imagine most demons don’t bother waiting.” I sneered at the damn thing. My human cock was so much more fun. “Also, the ejaculate burns, making it even more detrimental for a human recipient. That part is not even pleasant for other demons, but then, some of us like pain,” I paused, muttering, “Most of us are gluttons for it.”

She winced, and shivered. “Man, that is harsh.”

“Yes, it is harsh, and bloody useless as well, considering I can’t even get a receptive bunny rabbit pregnant. It is nothing less than mutilation when used on a human. A greedy, vile act, typical of your average demon. We are a sorry lot, Miss. Yet another reason I am insistent that other demons never, ever touch you.”

She blushed. Looking back at my cock, she asked, “Why are you so different, Alex?”

“I have no idea. I feel guilt and shame like any demon, but my standards are higher than average, even from the beginning. I suppose those standards are responsible for tempering my violent nature and refining my tastes.”

“For worthy, delicious souls?” She gave me a cheeky grin.

“Absolutely,” I said, smirking back at her. “You should feel somewhat honored, Miss Gilda. Normally it disgusts me to even share such information with those I have contracted with, let alone allow them to see me like this. Where sex is concerned, I am usually just trying to relieve tension, or I am simply bored.”

She looked up at me then, worried.

“In-between contracts. And certainly not with you, trust me,” I smiled, kissing her briefly. “But no innocent human being should ever have to pay the price for my boredom, so I refuse to be intimate with them using that… thing,” I said curtly, waving a hand at the barbs.

Not able to look at it anymore, I transformed everything back to Alexander Michaelis. I was still as hard as a rock, however.

“The moment of ejaculation feels just as pleasant in either form. That was a thing I learned in my youth…” I said, lowering my voice. “I was rash, and I imparted terror and death upon your kind, eventually growing to despise myself for it. It was a hard-earned lesson… but it also led me to realize that while I was stuck with being what I am, I was also different from my fellow demons, and I had to learn to function on my own. It took me centuries to learn how to transform into an acceptable-looking human, but I was determined. ”

“Acceptable? More like exceptional. And no wonder you like your human form so much.”

“No wonder you like my human form so much,” I said, and she giggled. I rolled her onto her back and pressed my body against her side. “Congratulations, Miss,” I whispered, “One final to go, and you will have your certificate.”

“I’m really happy, Alex. Thank you for getting me here.”

“Miss deserves most of the credit. I could not be more proud of you.”

“Um… Your pride is poking into my hip as we speak,” she laughed.

“Shall we do something about that?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, and then she kissed me.

+

When the second walked in the room they met in, the large tome they usually read together was open, sitting on a marble podium. The pages were turning by themselves, seemingly.

“Who in the bloody hell got that down for you?” The second one nearly bellowed at the first.

“Quiet down. Grell helped me.”

“You told him?!”

“Hush, for heaven’s sake. We’ll be found out.”

The second one strode up to the first, clearly quite angry at this news.

“How could you be so reckless?”

“Grell would have found out soon enough. I think we’ll need him to pull this off.”

“We have all the help we need,” came the snotty reply.

“No, we don’t. Think about it. He plans to attend her piano recital as her guest. He can alert us, and help with the timing. And what if something goes wrong later? You will be occupied with your task. The undertaker’s hands will be full as well, writing. As for me, I don’t have any hands, so there’s that. Wouldn’t it be better to have one more there? As a powerful foe?”

“Yes, but Grell Sutcliff? He’d never agree to help. He adores her.”

“Think about this. Since when is getting Grell to agree to help us necessary?”

The second one pondered this for a moment.

“I already told him this was your idea, and that he’d better keep his trap shut or you’d fire him. Rules are rules, after all. And no one appreciates that more than you.”

The second one nodded, and adjusted his glasses.

“Agreed.”

“Good. Have you been reading lately?”

The second one sneered the greatest sneer, ever, in the history of all sneers.

“Why on earth would I? It’s nothing but sex anymore – kinky, dirty, filthy sex. He gets her attention, she gets excited, they copulate, then they go back to doing whatever it was before they started, then they do it again some hours later. Disgusting.”

“It isn’t all kinky. Sometimes they express themselves in a very loving manner. And you know, back when we first started this little game, it was you calling me the prude. I think that’s entirely inaccurate, don’t you?”

“And you seem far too interested in watching them go at it.” A page turned, and the writing continued to appear on its own. “It’s too bad you never got to experience proper sex before you perished. You might be less of a voyeur.”

“Well, I hate to make you more disgusted than you already are… but if I had experienced proper, decent, non-rape sex, you do realize it would have been with him?”

The second one rolled his grass-green eyes and sighed. Changing the subject, he asked, “How are you turning those pages, then?”

“I create a small breeze. It’s difficult, but I can do it.”

“Hn. Silly.” He turned his back on the book, and began to walk off. “Come get me, immediately, when it’s time to put that back.”

+

Not all of her practicing was devoted to her recital piece, but in her desire to stay sharp, whatever she played it was always something difficult. One particular afternoon, she was playing Franz Liszt again; categorically, and secretly, her favorite composer.

She claimed to despise the man, mumbling things about his over-use of staccato notes (not true!) and the multitude of complicated tempo changes found throughout just one piece (very true). She called him rude names on a regular basis.

However, this was all blustering. When I revealed to her that I had not only seen the man perform several times, but I had the occasion to speak with him as well, she bristled. She told me, “You should have smacked him on the back of his head and told him he was going to make life hell for one of your future employers. What a bad butler,” she said, but I knew she was teasing me. She was in fact insanely jealous.

“He’s so fucking precise!” she’d rant.

“And that precision is exactly why you adore him,” I’d counter.

“Well…” she’d mutter, giving in, “All right.”

It’s the ones she rarely spoke of that she truly hated, like her parents. When she did speak about them it was in a quiet and curt manner, no passionate exclamations were ever involved.

So as to her ‘Little Franzie, the Mother Fucker’? Yes, she loved him, and all his various works.

I had the good fortune of walking past the salon with the feather duster in my hands, and yes, she’d bought me a pink one, when I was fortunate to hear the very beginning of Liszt’s most famous of his nineteen Hungarian Rhapsodies, No. 2. It’s been over-used, just like her conducting piece has been, but this is mostly due to some American cartoon that was produced in nineteen forty-six, starring a cat-and-mouse team. Wildly popular, it has been seen from generation to generation since, loathe though I am to think of it. Liszt is either sickened by this, or he is laughing hysterically and hitting ‘play’ over and over and over…

However, it is a brilliant piece no matter how you hear it, and one of Gilda’s favorites to play – even if she does look like she is bitching Franzie out in her head all the way through it.

I leaned on the doorframe, as of yet unnoticed by my little virtuoso, and watched her nearly nine-minute rendition, feeling as though I had been transported back to the mid-eighteen hundreds. When she finished, I paused, waiting for the inevitable curse words to spill out, then I chuckled and gave her a round of much-deserved applause.

“Alex!” she gasped, turning to face me and trying not to laugh.

“Bravissima, Miss. A splendid rendition, and one that I never tire of.”

“Holy crap,” she muttered, covering her magenta-tinged face with her palms.

“Although… should you ever perform that one on stage, I’d probably go without saying ‘take that you crazy fucker’ when finished. Not that they’d hear you over the applause.”

“Were you watching me… the entire time?”

“Apologies, Miss. I cannot decide whether it is more enjoyable watching your face when I am pleasuring you, or watching your face as you play that particular piece.”

She turned on her highly polished piano bench, straddled it, and half-gaped, half-smiled at me. Gilda was blushing fiercely. Feeling smug, I stood my ground, still leaning casually against the doorframe of the salon with a seductive smirk all over my face.

“Alexander. I do believe that’s the single greatest compliment anyone has ever paid me, ever, in my entire life.”

“Is that a fact?”

Narrowing my eyes, I stared at her. Dark. Hot. Dangerous. Wet. She knew exactly what I was implying with just one look, and Gilda did not even flinch. She placed her hands palms down on the bench and, leaning forward slightly, leveled a heated gaze at me.

“But it’s an important judgment call. You may need more information. Why don’t you come over here and get it?”

I got the information, thank you very much, and I felt quite smug as I watched her panting on the Oriental rug with her shorts and panties bunched tight around her ankles. She looked up at me with wide, somehow still innocent eyes, trying to catch her breath, as I licked my fingers clean and smirked down at her.

When she relaxed again, I leaned over her and spoke.

“Now I am going to carry you upstairs to your bed and put the stones to you properly.” Gilda laughed until she hiccupped. “What is this? You have told me I should experiment more with the vernacular, and I just did. Did I not say it right?”

“Oh, it was perfect,” she said, laughing until she cried.

I picker her up in my arms, and she wasn’t shaking this time… she was pliant and dreamy and she smelled delicious. When we reached her bedroom, I set her down on her bed and finished undressing her, and she was calm enough to do the same to me. I opened the window, letting in a soft breeze and all that glorious sunlight, and we spent rest of that lovely, long afternoon in her bed together; laughing, touching, ramping our passions up then satisfying each other. She’d nap, I’d watch, then she’d wake and we’d do it again. We stopped briefly around six at night, because her tummy was growling and she clearly needed some nourishment. Then we took a bath, and went right back to her bed to resume playing with each other.

What a delightful day.

At one point, she declared in a sleepy voice while stretched out on top of me, “I want you to know that I will never, ever be able to hear that Rhapsody without thinking about this day, ever again.”

“No more cat-and-mouse, then?” I whispered. She giggled.

Having sex with her in uncommon or unusual places was all well and good, but I preferred to take her the way I favored with all humans, regardless of gender: in a nice, big bed with the prey flat on their back. I am a creature of dominance, after all.

Kneeling on the bed, towering above my human playmate… gripping the backs of their thighs with my hands, raising their hips just slightly. My superior strength and staying power as a demon make this a very easy position for me to maintain. It keeps the chosen orifice open and the angle optimal, and it affords me the opportunity to watch them.

Whether I plan to ejaculate or not, just watching is one of my favorite parts of sex.

Bear in mind that this is only after sufficient foreplay! I cannot stress enough the importance of foreplay, and it is everyone’s responsibility, if you please. Most of you either take foreplay for granted, or do not bother with it at all, and then you wonder why your sex lives are not worth thinking about. Silly.

I love pleasuring Gilda in this position, and she rather enjoys the pin-prick sensation when my long, demon nails dig into the flesh of her thighs. This is the position I was trying to use at our fateful picnic, before her heart went and thwarted my plans.

She can be hard to predict when I am not manipulating her. Sometimes she wants to be the dominant one. Sometimes we just keep changing positions until we settle on one that feels good. Sometimes the little minx just needs more affection and intimacy from her loyal butler, and she gets it without a complaint.

But there were other times, more intense times…

The practicing would suddenly cease, and she’d seek me out wherever I was, silently asking for my attention with an impetuous longing on her face. She needed me to touch her, wanted me inside her, and I’d drop the task at hand and accommodate. She’d start shaking from the adrenaline rush before I could even get us into her bed.

Gilda loved me, desired me, pure and simple, and she was unashamed to let it show. As a demon, I couldn’t really respond in kind – I loved her, yes, and wanted her… but I didn’t clutch at her out of desperation. I didn’t tremble with expectancy at feeling desired by another. I didn’t cry when I came off; there were no little deaths for me. But it was delightful to experience these things through her.

As we got closer and closer to the day of her recital, however, I had a feeling that Gilda may have been thinking about something else during such ardent moments between us. She knew her time was limited.

+

tbc

+

++++++++ notes ++++++++

If you read it, **please** review it. Thanks!

Thanks to OhJazzy and risi for the support, and I hope that the big reveal up there met with your expectations… or at least your approval. :)

To hear a stunning version of the piece that Sebastian is watching Gilda play, in the way I personally think it ought to be played, again go to YouTube and type in:

Gyorgy Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 live in Budapest

Turn up the volume, and enjoy. Try not think of Tom & Jerry… but, no one’s going to yell at you if you do. :)
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