A/N: Helloooo~~~~ my lovely readers...

warning(s): yaoi, shotas, hints of rape, weirdness.

I woke up when the sun blinds through my eyelids. I sit up slowly and stretch my arms, feeling and hearing the joints crack and pop and I smile a bit at it. I scratch my head and look over at Ciel. I sigh- he isn't awake yet and there will be some time before he does awaken. I know he's tired, so I shouldn't make him get up yet. Besides, today is his day off.

I lay back down and sigh as I pull Ciel close to me.

It's funny...We've been dating for at least two years yet...yet the physical side never seems to get any further than a heated kiss. I get too nervous. I feel like I'm forcing Ciel into it. Making him bend over backwards to please me. That's not what I want.

He tells me it's okay, that he wants me so very badly...But I just...can't.

I think it's because I hear my father's voice when I touch my lips to Ciel's. I hear him telling me that no one will ever fall in love with such a useless, pathetic excuse for a demon. Or maybe it's those times when he'd break my body over and over and laugh when I screamed for anybody- somebody- to help.

Only no one ever came for me.

And once I finally got away from Father, ((I was around 18 in demon years)) I met him.

Since sex was really the only thing I was ever good at, I was a prostitute and I was walking down the street when I heard the soft rumble of a sports car coming up quickly from behind me...

I wrap the black trench coat tighter around myself and shudder at the cold air. Hell is okay, I guess. I look up at the Palace that stands so proudly in the middle of the city Oni. To put it bluntly, Satan lives there. He's the King of this wasteland we all call home. I've never seen his face, but I hear he's charismatic, greedy, lustful, seductive. Everything you'd expect from the Devil, of course.

Is this what you wanted from me, Father? Of course it is. You've always told me I'm just a whore you've had the dis-fucking-pleasure of raising. I know it isn't true- I know you really do love me- but you try to convince yourself you don't.

But it still hurts.

I wobble a bit on my still new heels. They're much taller than my old ones and I'm still getting used to them. Being well, a prostitute, most of my day isn't exactly spent fully clothed...

I shudder as the cold winds blow harder. It stings my cheeks and I wipe my runny nose with the sleeve of my coat. I stuff my cold hands in my pockets and I hear the soft roar of a very expensive car coming up from behind me. I pay no mind until it slows down to rumble quietly next to me. My heels stop clicking as I look at it curiously. It's sleek- and black. Really really expensive. The black tinted window rolls down and the driver is revealed.

I guess I should have not stepped off the curb and walked up to the open window. I shouldn't have looked into his golden eyes are watched how the moonlight from the three or so moons in Hell reflect off of his violet black hair. I shouldn't have told him my name, I shouldn't have gotten in the passenger side of his car. I shouldn't have told him my address and he shouldn't have driven me to my little dumpy apartment.

But I did all of those things and as he drove away, his cellphone number written in messy ink on the back of my hand, I felt my heart- for the first time- flutter.

So, maybe, all of those things should've happened. But if I knew then all of the shit Claude will put me through later, I would have not done all of those things.

It was after that day- a week or so later when Claude was over and Alice burst in- that my sister and he met. My little crush had been growing the whole time and Alice came in and left and Claude followed her.

Claude fell for Alice. Of course he would never have fallen for me- I was a whore. A whore that could barely clothe himself. A whore that stuttered and was nervous and jumpy and scared and skittish. A whore that was abused as a small demon-ling and had a bitter hate towards the world of Hell for things it had done wrong to me and would surely do wrong to me in the future. Life just hated me for some unknown reason.

Nonetheless, didn't hold anything against Alice.

She was raised by Mom. Our parents got a divorce when we were younger and Father kept me and Mom kept Alice. Of course, I still visited her and I lied about where the bruises came from

But she knew. Alice filled in the blanks about the harsh way Father spoke to me and the black, blue, green, and purple bruises on my hips. She cried and held me as I sobbed and shook in her arms.

Mom just smiled. She loves me- she does.

I jerk from my mind when Ciel shifts and rolls over, curling up under the sheets. I've been sleeping a lot lately. I'll get sluggish. I need to skip a night.

I look up at the ceiling and sigh softly. I perk up when I hear Pluto barking at something outside. I smile a bit. I didn't always hate dogs.

I think I was 16 when Father brought home a little silver wolf puppy. I smiled for the first time in a log while ((Father prevented me from seeing Alice after he found out she knew about the abuse)) and named him Mercury. He was my only a friend. I played with him and he followed me wherever I went.

A month later I went sleep and woke up to see Mercury's strangled, broken, bleeding body at the foot of my bed where he usually slept. I cried for hours before burying him in the backyard under a big oak tree.

I silently slip from bed and stretch again before looking down at my butler attire. No one is expected to be visiting today... I don't want to get dressed. So, I confidently stride down the hallways in my socks, white dress shirt, and black lace woman's panties.

Hey...don't judge. Screw boxers and briefs! Wear panties.

Like a man!

Ah, the life of a Phantomhive butler truly is simply one hell of a good time.

I walk into the kitchen and start to make breakfast, humming a happy tune. I pull out the ingredients and crack an egg over the bowl when I smell something.

Not something...someone. I sniff the air curiously, furrowing my brow.

It smells like...like...like...


But why would he be here? He left me at least a week ago, and I don't think he'd want to come back anytime soon. I dismiss it as my overactive imagination and start to mix the egg in the bowl.

But the scent keeps teasing my senses. I think Claude's nearby, but with him you never truly know. Shit shit shit shit shit..

My vision blurrs, my hands shake, my knees falter.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

My stomach churns and I feel bile- or is it blood?- rise. I'm going to puke.


I collapse onto the floor is a mess, my hands and fingertips and toes twitching uncontrollably. I think I'm puking- the crimson red on the floor confirms my suspicions and I heave again before black clouds my vision. I open my mouth the scream.

"Shh...Darling Sebastian it's okay. I got you."

Claude. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Somebody shoot me now. Claude's here and he's picking me up and dear Satan why can't I move?!
I take in one more strangled breath before everything becomes black.

I'm not sure how long I was out, but when my eyes blink awake I'm in a bed a know too well.

In a room I know too well.

In a mansion I know too well, next to a certain spider demon I know too well.

I sit up and realize I'm no longer in my butler uniform, but now a white dress shirt that's too big and black stockings that reach up to my knees. I shoot a glare at Claude, but he's sleeping. His glasses are on the bed stand beside him and he's shirtless but I hope he's got pants on.

I shift a bit and feel something heavy and metal around my ankle.

Oh no, he didn't.

I sit up and lift up the covers to confirm that yes he did. A silver cuff is around my ankle, and a heavy, thick chain connects my ankle to the bedpost. I yank my ankle up, pulling on it, and quickly discover that's a bad idea when the cuff tightens and cuts into my skin a bit. I flop back down- defeated.

What am I to do? Claude took me.

Ciel's worried.

I bite my lower lip, look at the door to his bedroom, and cry.

I can't believe I'm here again. This place caused me so much heartache and pain that I don't even know what to do with myself. I bring my balled fists to my chest and turn onto my side so I'm facing the door. My body voilently shakes as I sob silently, the tears wetting my pillow.

What did I do wrong? Tell me it's my fault- because it isn't, but somehow everyone- Father- thinks it is.

I fall too fast no one can stop me.