Corset Scene Black Butler Novels & Stories

Tension eased but not gone. Not even close. Minutes later, a knock came on Benita’s door. “Come in.” Youda stepped in, holding a box. “Mr. Blackwell sent this.” Benita raised a brow. “For me?” “Yes.” Benita opened it. Her breath caught. A silky, elegant gown. Soft.Beautiful and Perfect. “Youda…” “It’s stunning,” Youda whispered. Another knock. Damien stepped in. He stopped when he saw her holding the dress. “You like it?”

With that, she made a sad look over at Ethelbert. Ethelbert suddenly felt amused. The corner of his lips lifted slightly with a very small amplitude. Today Coronis wears a plum red checkered shirt with jeans and low boots. Her fashion has always been simple, monotonous and somewhat sloppy but looks very natural. It's also the style that suits her active type and her barista work. Ethelbert wondered what she would look like when she dressed up? It'll probably just be a little more lipstick and a dress. But whatever form she took, Ethelbert imagined a sense of vivacity, freshness, and carefree innocence.

In front of everyone, his knees gave out, and he dropped onto the wet asphalt. "Estelle, please. Give me one more chance. I can't live without you. I'm truly sorry." He clutched at the hem of my clothes, his voice breaking as he begged. People around us began to whisper and point. Just then, a black Bentley screeched to a stop. Camellia stepped out, two sharply dressed lawyers at her side. Her heels struck hard against the ground as she strode over. "Have you no shame? Get up." She slapped Enzo across the face, then turned to glare at me, her expression vicious.

Andrea appeared late and sat down there. The first course came around quickly. A maid appeared with a trolley and the butler served the aperitifs. Yes, I could definitely get used to this treatment. The maid, just like the groom, spoke with a heavy French accent and she definitely dressed for the occasion. Black silk stockings with tops just about showing. She had a small black dress with a white apron, neatly tied at the back. The plunging neckline showed ample cleavage and she had a thin string of pearls around her well-tanned neck. And whenever she leaned forward or bent over, I glimpsed stocking tops and suspenders. I wondered if she had any panties on.

I’d forgotten to consider that one. The next couple of hours were as bizarre as any I’d experienced in Lower Butts. I had to go into the room with her as she really couldn’t have got out of her gown on her own. It was a beautiful full length, plain black silk job that clung to every curve and cunningly jumped every unwanted bump. It also had zillion buttons down the back. She looked amazing as I unpeeled it from her slim figure.

Sitting on a black leather swivel chair, legs crossed and hands rested on the fluffy armrest, Marco adjusted his blue tuxedo, slicking back his now white hair with gel, giving him a smooth and suave appearance. His eyes flew open as the door swung open, revealing the robotic butler, now dressed in a boyish style, his shaggy blond hair adding to his charm.

I was already wearing the dress he gave me, which was why I was feeling kind of uncomfortable while I walked through the center aisle of the lobby. "What… Miss Asterbelle?" A familiar voice stole my attention. "Miss Asterbelle, what are you doing with someone else’s dress?" he asked. It was Zen, the butler. He wore the same attire as yesterday, just a black shirt paired with his white vest and a necktie.

“Freya, what are you still waiting for?” “Leave!” I ordered, but instead of leaving, she became agitated;I could hear her loud and drumming heartbeat from where I laid. I sighed in defeat. “It's alright, I'll be there in a minute” “Thank you, My lady” Freya bowed repeatedly to me before scurrying out of the room. I sluggishly got up from bed and went to freshen up, then changed my dress. I looked into my closet and picked up a black corset, most of the corsets in my closet were all black.

He looked at me as though I was already an enemy, a possession, and a challenge all at once. “Welcome, Mrs. Moretti,” he drawled, extending the cup. I took it, swallowed it in one sharp tilt, dropped the empty glass onto the table beside him… then tore the slit of my gown with one swift movement. The silk ripped open, revealing the leather beneath... a black corset studded with silver, tight pants, and holsters strapped to my thighs. A woman ready for war, not marriage. The men gasped. A few whistled. Dante smirked.

“What did you have in mind?” My question made his lips quirk into a hint of a smile as he reached into the rack next to where we stood. The one with the scandalous clothing as he pulled off a red and black piece that was full of feathers, silk, and lace. A corset stitched to perfection with a short bustle and black embroidery that was so intricate and beautiful, it had to have been custom-made. “Wear this,” he replied only inches from my face. “And come to the masquerade.”