Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

[Omega Arthur]

Scandalous things were said, the cane pushed over his crotch, a gasp left his lips. Arthur had been unaware of his affected state till now, too fascinated and frankly horrified with the turn of events that were unfolding right in front of his eyes to notice. Something was stirring in him, that life, the ticking of clockwork - like Alfred had just jabbed a jammed cog free, allowing it to move and click things that were meant to be glued down into whirring back to life.

He could barely believe it. His Master was coming onto him, and not quietly, instead choosing to be direct - acting right in front of him without disguising his efforts behind some sort of japery and lie. It was unprecedented. Unspoken and unheard of. Except from, of course, cases where the Master and the devious servant were caught... What was the likelihood of, if the door was shut, them being found out?

Arthur reminded himself about his values - about what he came here to do. He pushed the cane away despite himself and climbed to a standing height. His cheeks were visibly flushed, redder than usual, which contrasted his pale complexion. It was very difficult to hide both his intrigue and embarrassment. He could scarcely believe that he was even considering this! Straightening his collar quickly, Arthur made a decision that he told himself would be final.

"I--I think that is quite enough, Sir," Arthur said firmly - or tried to, at least. His voice in fact came out quiet as a shrew. "We will have no more of this within this household. I will not write to your relatives about this so long as this... this does not repeat itself. Are we clear? Now... now, I should be leaving."

He looked over Alfred's body again, before he forced himself away. He quickly retired to the door before Alfred could stop him, and he ceased in his place, casting a backwards look over his shoulder. As he reached for the doorknob, his hand stilled - fingers still trembling, but his willpower stopping. Arthur cursed himself in as many tongues as he could think of in his head, and he turned back to have another look of the American chief of house. Something was stopping him from leaving. It was like a magnetic pull that was urging him and Alfred to slam straight back together, something he had never experienced before.

No. No, he could not sacrifice so many principles on this teasing, could he? What if Alfred was jesting? What if he wanted to find a reason to have him fired? It could all be a sodding trick.

But he wanted it. Oh, make no mistake.

[King of Spades]

Arthur had had enough, it seemed. The butler stood up and attempted to right his slightly dishevelled outfit. It's not like Alfred was expecting the other to actually give in, not everybody liked that sort of thing. Though he could have sworn that Arthur had been eyeing him up. Alfred wasn't surprised by this anti climatic turn of event, but he would be lying if he claimed that he wasn't in the least disappointed. The rustles of fabrics nullified the erotic moment.

The butler voiced his request and Alfred's respond was an automated nod. Resting his chin on the small globe of his cane, Alfred watched Arthur walk away from the corners of his eyes. He followed the other's every move and noted with amusement how the usual bravour and seductive sway was lacking. Well, at least this could be seen as a lesson for Arthur to not meddle in his life.

Another rush of regret and sexual longing coursed through him once Arthur had already reached the door and was ready to leave the room. However, instead of pushing the door open within a heartbeat, Arthur was...standing still. He was hesitating.

Alfred's previously bored and slightly disappointed eyes regained their mischievious glint and his smirk returned. The master stood up with a carefree swing of his legs; the cane was swung to rest on his left shoulder as he took one, two, three and four steps towards Arthur. He slowed down to see if perhaps Arthur was going to rush off after all, but no such thing happened. Alfred was close and Arthur was still unmoving.

Slowly, he stretched his free arm out and pressed his palm against the intricately decorated wooden door, his sleeve grazed Arthur's ear in the process. Alfred's body leant forward until his chest was about to touch the the other's back. He tilted his head and whispered.

"There's nothing wrong in wanting this. Nobody will know. It's a secret between you and me. I have power over you and you have power over me...in this little game."

The metal shaft of Alfred's cane was now rubbing between Arthur's legs. Up and down. Slowly and teasingly.

At this very moment it wasn't even all about who was winning the game of dominance. It was unadulterated lust talking. Alfred wanted this man's body.

[Omega Arthur]

Of the many words that Arthur had in his internal dictionary, he could voice exactly zero of them in that one second. As Alfred came up behind him, placing his arm so close to his head and leaning in to graze his back - making him jolt forwards till he was pressing right up against the door - Arthur's heartbeat refused to lower. It instead became unavoidably noticeable, so much so that his chest was visibly bumping up and down. The rhythm thumped like the plucking of a cello and a beating of a drum in his ears.

His body felt almost painful. His skin crawled, and he fought against wincing as his jacket and shirt swept against it. Not to mention the situation in-between his legs, by which had started to become tight. His slowly growing arousal pushed against his underwear and stiff trousers, giving him a feeling of being trapped. If he could have one wish, he would have liked to have been in a bathroom on his own to relieve his embarrassing situation.

...Or did he? Perhaps he... wanted...

Oh. There was no doubt that he did. Especially as that thick bauble on top of the cane started to rub between his thighs.

He responded by capturing it right there and giving it a squeeze.

Exasperatedly, the Briton turned his head around to look at the American; the man that was so concentrated in corrupting him. Even if this was a big mistake, it felt like it was too late to back away now. The seed had been sewn. Their arousals already here. He was going to let go. Maybe if he was caught, he would at least be allowed to testify before he got the hang.

His fingers landed on the door in front of him, and he gasped as he caught a sight of Alfred's domineering facial expression. It was honest lust that he saw. Even if this was a trick, Alfred was going to commit to it. Alfred was going to have him. Gobble him up whole.

Trouble. He was doing so well.

"...No--No one will know?" He asked for clarification, quickly, softly grinding against the bauble pushing against his privates. His bottom brushed against Alfred's front lower half as well during the heated movement.

[King of Spades]

Alfred's brows rose in mild surprise, clearly he was not expecting such a quick reaction. His breath hitched as his painful erection was granted a brief touch by Arthur's honestly mindblowing behind. The butler's legs were already squeezing the cane inbetween, creating friction on their own. Alfred licked his lips. Who would have thought.

"Only you and me," he whispered, his teeth caught onto the servant's ear lobe for a brief moment before leaving it with nothing but a burning remainder.

Long fingers curled around the ribbon on Arthur's collar. Alfred couldn't wait to reveal the porcelain neck for himself as he tugged the ribbon loose with expertise. One by one the buttons were undone and Arthur's flawless skin underneath presented itself while Alfred peered from behind with high concentration. Arthur's neck was long and held feautures of someone with a strong voice, which was frequently used; it made Alfred curious about the private Arthur. Just a little bit, though.

With every bit of skin revealed Alfred would occasionally let out a low appreciative moan and thrust the cane higher until it was finally rubbing against the clothed erection of his trapped servant.

"I can't wait to see all of this," said Alfred in a heavy voice. He let his fingers trail over the exposed neck and collarbone and slid lower to feel the other's chest.

[Omega Arthur]

Small indents were dug into Arthur's skin from Alfred's teeth at his ear, which slowly filled away while Alfred's attention spanned out into other areas of him. While his shirt was slowly, diligently unbuttoned, his starched and white shirt unfolding as Alfred parted the tailcoat jacket, his skin begun to gain tiny goosebumps from the cool air. His dry throat kept hoarse as he gasped lightly, amazed that Alfred was stripping him already.

In fact, it was amazing that he was stripping him at all.

The fingertips were cool against his neck, which had been protected from the air via suppression from more than one collar. As they danced over his skin, it reacted to the touch; a ticklish sensation that would have made him shiver had he not seriously suppressed it. Soon, it moved from fingertips to hands, and soon the hands of another man was rolling over his torso - warming his sensitive flesh and making his eyelashes flutter and lids eventually close.

The fact that this was forbidden made the fruits of Alfred's efforts that much sweeter...

His hand tightened into a fist, and Arthur glanced back at the American aristocrat over his shoulder. Alfred's eyes were incredibly blue, and he had not realised yesterday. If only he knew what Alfred would drag him into. He probably would not act the same as today, if he did, arguably. But despite being as harsh as Arthur saw fit, he saw that his Master was just as eager to embrace him as he might have been. Yet, knowing he had been himself before and still collected Alfred's attention in a sexual manner was... liberating.

"The--The door," Arthur moaned out, however, letting his decency take him for a moment. "It's, ah, oak. Old as the house. Let's not dirty it with our hands and--and other substances, shall we? Mn."

The idea of defiling such a thing was just as horrifying as it was arousing. He licked his lips, cursing himself for wanting to weakened by his Master - morals included. He already had half-gotten him. The smaller framed male rutted dryly against the cane to remind himself of its presence, and slowly - deliberately - ground against the hardened lump in Alfred's trousers; actions which started to gently satisfy them both. He wanted to moan a name out in appreciation. He would name Alfred's if it had not been too personal for his position. He fumbled for something.

"Master Jones..." He gritted out, shutting his eyes softly and tilting his head up.

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