Lucifer

Lucifer strolled casually down the near lightless, near silent backstreets of a city of which he hadn’t bothered to note the name. He never did these days. For in a millennia or so it would be gone just like all the others. Humans didn’t realize just how fleeting their civilizations were. How no one would know they existed until a person dug a few feet below the sands of time and found the remains of the structures—packed earth, cut stone, forged steel, graphene lattice. Momentary stepping stones; the childhood scribbles of a someday virtuoso. If ever humanity made it that far. Big if.

He smirked and his shockingly amber hued gaze glanced around the streets as if he were hoping to find something. And indeed he was.

A young woman not far down the street ahead of him glanced about. Despite her visible anxiety it undoubtedly took a bit of courage to step from the shadow of the doorway as she noticed his approach. “How are you tonight, fella?” She stammered in an attempt to make herself seem sexy and confident. Turning her first trick might have been the hardest. Nevertheless he could see she was still new enough to this life that it didn’t come easy. But this young woman was determined. Perhaps that was part of her appeal.

For certain the girl was physically quite lovely. Long blond hair that was straighter than a pin with hints of green hair chalk at the tip. Wide eyes of rich aquamarine stared up at the demon. Determination mingled with innocence in the depths of those waters that reminded him of the lagoons of paradise now aeons lost. He wanted to taste it—to taste her—again. He wanted to swim in her, to drink her, to evaporate, sublimate, to shape and reshape her determined, innocent waters—just as it had been once before.

She wore a strapless black and silver mini-dress. The clingy fabric of the 7-dollar fuck-me-by-the-numbers clubwear would have showed off far more than it concealed were it not underneath a poorly fit trench coat with a fake fur lined collar. Her thigh high stiletto boots had fur along the tops as well. Her skin was a bit rosy from the chill of the November night.

“I am well,” he told her continuing to drink in her form and body language. His long black hair was well coiffed into a ponytail arrayed between the shoulders of his tailored dark grey wool coat over dark blue suit and carnelian silk tie. A gold tie pin held the cravat in place. More impressively a close inspection by expert eyes might have noticed the subtle use of impossibly fine gold threads throughout. His black loafers were polished to an elegant shine. His visage though was pallid in a way that would have been frightful if not for the supernatural aura of trust and comfort about him always .

Pressing her lush red lips together she tilted her head to the side, “May I have your company this eve?” She asked. Her voice was soft and sweet like the melodies that some angels were known for singing. “I mean would you enjoy—”. Lucifer gave a slight almost bored nod and held his arm out for the wouldbe street whore to take.

“What a shame to have you working that slow corner in this chilly weather,” he murmured to her leaning in as if sharing an intimate piece of gossip in a victorian court. The street was deserted. “A lovely angel like yourself should be inside a cozy boudoir taking pleasures from men of your choosing. You’re not meant to be out hustling for whatever cretan happens by.”

Her cheeks reddened as she looked up at him in surprise. The thoughts were clear on her face. Her lovely features inquired wordlessly how he could have possibly known her predicament. Her innocence drew him in a bit more.

“I don’t think it's so bad,” the girl offered softly. “It could always be worse. After all it could be this cold and raining.” Her glance darted away involuntarily as this fret escaped her lips. “That’s not something I want at all.”

Lucifer nodded. “But you’d still be on that corner if it rained.” He pulled the hooker closer against the November chill. “Do you have a place for tonight?”

“Um, yeah,” she mumbled. What was this guys deal? She was a terrible liar and hated that his questions called for more than the usual insincerity that turning a trick demanded. But for some reason her discomfort appeared to goad the strange man into smiling down at her. Great. A loony. Hope he’s not broke.

They walked on a few more moments in silence cuddling against the night air. “Why lie to me?” he asked.

She stopped as if his words alone had struck her immobile. “You can’t know that.”

“Ah, but that is where you are wrong,” he replied, turning her to face him. “I can. For I know everything that can be known about you.” The demon took a step closer to her. “I know your name is Mary May Tanner. I know that you are only twenty one—born August 15, 1994. Your parents—Joseph Ray Tanner and Tabitha Dolly Roth—died in a horrendous car accident a few years ago. In the rain.”

His gaze threatened her to protest these revelations. But it was all true. Every word was a nightmare she wanted to escape. “How could you know that?” She stammered and shook on the verge of a tearful meltdown. But he wrapped his warm arms around her while her head spun. Something deep inside told her she should fear him. Something just as deep—maybe deeper—told her she must trust him.

“But now it is simple, little angel, Mary May.” He took her hand and led her with an increasing pace further down the street. “Orphaned you were left in the care of an uncle who squandered most of his own money and all of yours on gambling. And on much worse. But now the time has come for you to come into your own. If you give up on Him you will never have to work these streets again.” The male pulled her into a dark dank alleyway.

Oh fuck. How could she have been so stupid. Some paranoid stalker loon was going to rape her in a dumpster and she probably wouldn’t even make a buck.

Or at least it should have been a dark alley—suddenly she’d become pleasantly warm. Her clothing had changed. So had the rapist’s—er, well he was still a strange man.

This was not some filthy back alley in any city but a palace somewhere tropical. The blue-green ocean stretched out forever before them. Lush green palm trees rustled like the music of rain in a heavy summer downpour that gave life to the thirsty earth. The sand was a pearl white that glistened like diamonds had been sprinkled over it. A sweet salty breeze brushed though her long hair and over her now nearly naked body.

Mary found herself outfitted in something reminiscent of the Pharaohs’ slave girls in some of that early technicolor bible porn—minus the censorship. Nothing more than a gauzy linen skirt pinned with a gold brooch. A similar bit of fabric hung from a hemp choker across her breasts so that it barely covered her nipples if the ever present island breeze favored it being so.

When Mary May’s gaze returned to the man who had brought her to this mystical place he too looked different. Gone were the fashionable coat, suit and tie. In their place was a simple cotton and linen kilt belted by a heavy leather girdle studded with rubies, emeralds and sapphires. His hair had been let loose to cascade amid the lean slabs of his muscled torso. Yet those same haunting amber eyes stared straight through her from behind that eerily pallid face.

A second later those eyes shifted to stare into her aquamarines, “I would say that it is rude to stare but I’m sure I’ve just shocked your senses a bit more than you thought possible.” His smile made the female swallow thickly then lick her lips. “You may stare. And you may ask. Until I say you may not.”

“Yes, thank you.” And stare she did though she found it hard to decide whether she would rather take in the delights of the warm paradise around them or ponder the strange handsome beast who had made her be here. Or had he made the place be altogether? Or was she simply losing her grip at last?

“Where are we and how is this even possible?” She asked the demon at last.

He offered her a slight shrug. “You could say that I felt like being alone with you without being so fucking cold. We are on my island. It is well away from any curious onlookers—in the Pacific, if you can’t tell. It wouldn’t make any difference for you to know more precisely for now. As to how,” he smiled, “I am a being of many talents.”

His light hearted manner forced her to relax. Remembering that they were after all on a date Mary May couldn’t help but decide a flirty tone was called for. ”Well I would certainly call teleportation a talent as well, lover. So what are you some sort of god? Or agent of God?” She crossed her arms under her shapely and mostly exposed breasts. “Because that is one being I don’t believe in.”

The chuckle that trickled from his lips was both melodic and impossibly resonant. “Not in the least. I would say I am much more fun to be around.” He came closer and played with a few strands of her blond mane that had tried to flee on the island breeze. “Tell me do you believe in the Devil?”

She rolled her eyes. “A lot of men claim to be the Devil and so there is little reason to believe in a man that is nothing more than a bedtime story told to children so that they behave.” He stepped away and the once loose strands tumbled to her hip in a slender ornate braid.

“Thank you,” she said perplexed awe momentarily causing her to forget her sassy put on.

This earned her another smirk. “Is that so? Imposters! Horrible, self-serving liars!” he winked. “I will prove it to you. Believe in me and become mine and you will never have to work again. You will have everything your heart could wish for. Sadly not the dead. If that could be wished away it wouldn’t really be death. But anything else. Believe me. I know your heart already and such wishes as you would make. Let me show you.”

Mary stared at him. “Why would you do such a thing?” Her head was whirling with so many questions that, even if she did believe him, she didn’t know what she desired at the moment.

He cupped her right cheek in his hand and thereby forced her to look up into his eyes, “Because I want you,” he said matter of factly. “I am selfish and want what I want. I could simply take it but I prefer a willing lover in my bed.”

The feel of Mary shivering and leaning into his hands encouraged the demon to lean a little closer and claim those lush lips that begged to be taken. Her eyes closed lightly as their lips met. At first the kiss was gentle growing swiftly into a ravenous dance of tongues in which Mary was surprised to find herself willing, even eager, to be devoured. The girl’s breath quickened and she began to cling to her newly discovered lover’s shoulders like a shipwrecked soul to an unlikely liferaft in a hopelessly large sea.

Lucifer lifted Mary May effortlessly and set her on the rail of the balcony upon which they stood. His smoldering eyes intensified a bit with an otherwise unseen hunger for her flesh as well as her elusive soul. He unbelted the kilt. The linen garment fell to the ground to reveal a proud length of cock with a firmness suggestive of muscled flesh made into stone, no—steel.

Ladder rungs of solid gold ran the length of his underside piercing the lean, shapely flesh at intervals of an inch or so. In the moment Lucifer allowed for her to take in her fate she had noticed no less than eight such bars before Lucifer seized her skirt and tore it easily from her hips. Her scant top followed quickly. The shredded remains of her clothing soon shared the ground with his kilt.

“As I have heard no protest, I deem you are in accord with my desires,” he said. After a silent moment her lips were claimed again.

Mary May’s self-strangled, incredulous yet desperately aroused sigh of yearning elicited only a deep growl. He grabbed the shaft of his member and pushed its head against her soaked opening. Throaty groans of pleasure were summoned from within them both as he sank into her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she panted heavily in his ear with wordless pleas for more. To this he seated the stud adorned flesh within her slick groove and began driving himself into her with the steady, relentless rhythm of a well tuned piston.

The demon held her tight to him as he kissed, nipped and suckled on her body pulling sharp gasps and cries from her throat. Her involuntary moans were his musical composition and she his instrument. He wanted to hear more. Her taste— upon the consummation of each sweet kiss—made him thirst ever more greedily for the next sampling of her flavor. As they made love under the bright sky he could sense the impending surrender of far more than just her body.

She gave him her belief, which lead to her mind, then to her soul and heart. The knowledge that she did this made the male want to protect her and keep her close at whatever cost. He pulled her lips to his one more time as he spilled his seed deep into her. Followed closely by her cry of pleasure as she clamped down around him milking his member for all it was worth.

Still panting the two leaned against each other. The exchange of light kisses and gentle caresses carried on. They swallowed the sight of one another’s nakedness with lust filled eyes. She stared into his hunger and as her whispering lips grazed his, she confided in him. “I believe only in you—my God.”

Lucifer was thrilled at this admission but felt no need to say so as he scooped up Mary May and carried one more new bride off to the enormous bed and unimaginable spectrum of sensations that awaited inside the enormous villa.

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Copyright 2017 by http://steemit.com/@jjay
The main image for this piece was adapted from 'By Foot' by Rene Böhmer on Unsplash.
Please note — This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or beings of immense power and libido are pure coincidence.