With the current noise level, doing anything productive was out of the question. The noise of the rain hitting the window panes, pounding on the thin roof and leaking drop by drop into aluminum cans combined with the frequent clashes of thunder outside to create a cacophony destructive to rational thought.
Even so, it just wasn’t proper for demons to be sitting idle during the apocalypse, so Meg had decided to take action, which led her to where she was now, straddling her father, the almighty fallen archangel, on the only bed to be found in this run-down place that was once a home. Unfortunately, the mattress was so ancient it that made a dreadful creaking noise with any slight movement, only adding more unpleasantness to their surrounding.
“Couldn’t we have found a better base of operations than this; a five star hotel suite perhaps?” she asked, smirking, as she undid his zipper. Suddenly the bed under them became softer as she felt a slight buzz of magic emanating from Lucifer.
“Better?” he asked simply. Meg nodded, though she was distraught. He should not be using power frivolously, in order to conserve his current vessel for as long as possible. Lucifer must have read her thoughts, because he said “Just once, a small favor for my loyal Daughter,” as he leaned forward to cup her cheeks and kiss her on the lips, a tender gesture for someone so ruthless.
“Your loyal Daughter also can’t wait to have this special cock inside of her,” she retorted as she attempted to stroke him to hardness. It wasn’t working.
“We angels aren’t the same,” Lucifer told her, grasping her wrist to stop the movement of her hands. “I’ll tell you what we can do instead. But first, explain to me why we’re doing this, as closely related as we are?”
Meg scoffed, getting off of him and instead laying down on her side to face him. “You created me, Daddy, and you made all of my wonderful siblings. I love what you’ve done for us. The least I can do in return is get you off,”
Her reason seemed to be acceptable to him. All he said, before turning around, was that only special attention to the wings could excite an angel.
Meg was surprised yet also deeply relieved to realize that he didn’t notice her lie. The actual reason why they were in this position was more of a feeling that Meg kept hidden deep within her corrupt soul, not bringing it to the surface in case his angelic mind realized her grievance and was upset enough to punish her.
The archangel always looked down upon Meg and her demonic siblings, despite the utmost loyalty some of them showed him. Even if he didn’t make his feelings about demon-kind explicitly known, his arrogant demeanor wounded her pride deeply. So what if she wasn’t an angel like him and his siblings? Lucifer had created demons with his own hands. They were his children, and yet he held no affection for them.
It was high time he showed the loyal ones working tireless for him some respect. And so Meg had propositioned Lucifer with a surprise, an intimate favor. If nothing else worked, maybe this would single her out as someone special to him.
Lucifer turned his back to her and pulled off his simple tee shirt, the one that could almost convince Meg that he was an ordinary being and not someone thousands of times more powerful. So powerful that he could, without a doubt, destroy her with a flick of his wrist.
The thought should have been frightening, yet it only sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine as she put her hands on his shoulders. Nothing. Neither a sigh nor a shudder. That alone wasn’t enough to dissuade Meg from her goal—she was sure she’d have him moaning by the end. So she dragged her hand down slowly, gently, down his back to the shoulder blades. The muscle under her hand tensed with anticipation. This was it. Now she knew that Lucifer had not been exaggerating when he said an angel’s wings were sensitive enough to pick up the lightest of touches.
Meg ran her hands over the place where the wings sprouted, barely applying any pressure. It was better to start small and work up to to something grand.
“That feels nice,” Lucifer said with a bit of surprise, shifting a tiny bit closer to her. Meg couldn’t help but smirk with smug satisfaction; by the time she was done with him, Lucifer was sure to use more colorful vocabulary.
After simply guessing at where the wings started for a short while, Meg came to the sudden realization that she could feel them. Lucifer’s wings had a warming energy emanating from them that instantly calmed her. In that moment, Meg wanted nothing more than to see them, to admire their doubtless majesty.
“What color are they?”
“Gold, in my true form. In a vessel, angels can only manifest the shadow of wings into visible wavelengths. They’d just appear dark, if I showed them now.”
After he’d spoken, voice already hoarse with lust, she knew it was time to pull out another, better, trick. She brought her hands up and out to encircle, with her palm and fingers, the widest part of the wings’ edges. She then slowly tightened her grip around the barest hint of sensation that acknowledged their presence.
Though it was a bit of a risky move—it could’ve been painful to him after all—the reward when Lucifer moaned loudly and arched his back in response was definitely worth it. Just seeing him move like that was enough to fuel her excitement into a roaring fire. It was a shame he couldn’t keep this vessel. His body was marvelously built, the only imperfection being the scars that resulted from the possession of an angel far too powerful for its confines.
Meg kept on gently but firmly kneading the spots she was holding on to as the archangel’s moans grew louder and more frequent, eventually morphing into groans of pleasure. He moved his torso, and by extension the wings, in rhythm to the movement of her hands. Just the fact of Meg’s touch being responsible for undoing her arrogant father’s composure was arousing to the point of being painful. She couldn’t do anything about it now though…the job at hand needed to be finished.
“Close your eyes,” Lucifer suddenly told her with urgency. “Now!”
Meg was shocked into immediate obedience. That was when she felt him come for the first time. It was vastly difference, and a thousand times more amazing, than a human’s orgasm. The bright light emanating from Lucifer was nearly blinding even behind Meg’s eyelids, and it pulsed in intensity for about half a minute, spreading with it the ebb and flow of the most amazing energetic force she had ever experienced. For that time, there was nothing to tie her to ordinary existence. There was just pure joy and contentment.
Eventually the space darkened again, and Meg regained control of her rational senses just before Lucifer said it was safe now to open her eyes. What struck Meg as she looked at him was how pleased and relaxed he seemed, as if there was no more apocalypse or decaying vessels to worry about now.
“That was…” Meg started saying, yet found herself at a loss for words. Lucifer simply smirked and pulled her towards him, and onto the bed. He moved to kneel above her, with his knees between her thighs.
“It was incredible,” he told her, skimming his hands up her legs. “I forgot about such pleasures, rotting in that forsaken cage for eons. But you, whom I’ve underestimated for far too long, brought them back to me.”
Lucifer reached the hem of the short dress she had chosen for just this occasion and ripped it in half with ease, all the way through. Then he brought a hand to her sweet spot.
“Here’s your reward, my child.”