Author’s Note: My very first discipline story in this fandom. I fell in love with Lucifer right from the start. A very special Thank You goes to FicwriterJet who not only lets me post my stories on her website but also listens to my ranting whenever I’m stuck with a story.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Consensual spanking of an adult.

Unknown Territory for the Devil

Lucifer felt a burning rage building within him. Someone had taken them from him! Someone had taken his angel wings! They had been so close to getting them back but now they weren’t in his container anymore. He needed to find them! Needed to find the person responsible and make them suffer – punish them!

But first he needed to calm down. The police and more importantly Detective Decker were still out there and he needed to put on a content face. She mustn’t know. Even if she wouldn’t believe him anyway. Lucifer took one last deep breath, closed the secret door of the container and went back to face Detective Decker. He spotted her standing next to her car talking to a uniformed officer. He approached them trying to put his trademark smirk on his face. The Detective finished her conversation and turned towards him. She looked somewhat angry.

“Everything okay with you?” she asked looking at his face carefully, as if she saw something that disturbed her.

“Of course I’m all right. We found my container. Why wouldn’t I be feeling splendidly?” he replied in a light tone. She still looked at him suspiciously for a moment, scrunching her eyebrows in a way that was making him uncomfortable. Not that he’d ever admit that – he was the devil and nothing made the Lord of Hell uncomfortable.

“All right. Then get in the car. I’ll drive you home. There are a few things we need to talk about.” Her voice had taken on a definite icy tone during that last sentence and Lucifer had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would not enjoy this particular conversation. Maybe he should avoid that. Talking to displeased women was not his favourite pastime.

“I could ask Maze to pick me up if you...”

“Get in the car, Lucifer!” she all but growled over the roof of the car. So he complied. Quickly.

The car ride was spent in tense silence. Lucifer had tried making conversation but each attempt was only met with stony silence and furious glances in his direction while her hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel. So he had given up – for now – and was trying to think of a reason for Detective Decker’s fury. He came up blank. He had been a great help during this case. He had been a great ally while questioning their informant. Then he had chased after the murderer – and thief – while the Detective was busy trying to save that biker’s life. He had been sure that she could handle first aid on her own – it wasn’t that difficult. And they mustn’t let the murderer get away! The one who had also been thieving his property! No, he had done splendid work!

She was most likely angry with Detective Douche or their offspring and was taking it out on him. Yes, that sounded like a probable explanation for her behaviour. And since she had helped him find the container, he would even overlook her blatant rudeness towards him. How very gracious of him.

They had reached the Lux but instead of dropping him off at the front entrance, she drove to his private parking spaces at the back.

“Thank you for the ride, Detective. But I can find my way to my apartment,” he said opening the door. “Have a nice evening.”

“I’m coming up with you,” she replied getting out of the car as well.

“Detective, have you finally come to your senses?” he said lustily. “Well, I do say that the offer still stands.” She just locked her car and walked with quick steps to the elevator. He hurried to catch up with her and watched her closely during the elevator ride up to the penthouse. He couldn’t quite understand her behaviour. She still looked angry. But why was he complaining? He liked all kinds of sex. Lucifer invited her in with a flourish wave of his arms.

“Make yourself quite at home.”

“Is Maze busy tonight?” she asked briskly looking around the apartment.

“Uh Detective, not what I expected but unfortunately Maze is working the bar tonight.” He hadn’t expected her to make such a proposal on their first night together but that didn’t mean he’d object. The Detective just rolled her eyes at his last statement... a reaction he couldn’t quite understand.

“Trust me, you do not want to have an audience tonight,” she mumbled.

“I disagree. I always like an audience,” he smirked. “So how shall we proceed?” He wiggled his eyebrows and sank back onto the leather couch while the Detective was looking at him, one arm wrapped around her middle, the other pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What on earth possessed you to steal my car and go after our suspect alone?” she finally yelled at him. He was slightly taken aback by her sudden eruption, since he’d expected a gravely different reaction. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by her ranting. “You had no gun! No backup! And still you chased down a man who was clearly armed! – Stealing my car! What were you thinking?”

He was feeling quite uncomfortable with her towering over him, glaring down. And she obviously expected an answer to this ridiculous question.

“Well surely we mustn’t let the murderer get away!” he exclaimed finally. “And you were busy helping the poor sod that got shot! – And furthermore that despicable man had stolen my container! I was helping justice take its course!” He had the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that that hadn’t been a wise answer when her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed and she balled up her hands. She glared at him so furiously that he even scooted back on the sofa to put some distance between them. Hell did have no fury like a woman scorned, he thought.

“You see, Detective, we caught the bad guy,” he tried to placate her. “Isn’t that what police work is all about?” She took a deep breath.

“No, Lucifer, that is not what police work is all about,” she sighed. “You cannot keep doing this. You need to listen to what I tell you. You are not invincible.”

“I always listen.” And he had been invincible once.

“And you need to obey me! Catching a killer is not worth for you to get hurt – or worse killed! What do I have to do to get that into your thick skull?” She turned around and rubbed her face. Lucifer squirmed on the sofa, bristling a little about the ‘thick skull’ part. But he did feel bad about worrying the Detective.

“We’re partners, Lucifer,” she said. “We need to watch each others’ backs. That’s what being partners means. You cannot keep doing everything the way you want to! And for heaven’s sake, you cannot go after an armed suspect alone and without a gun!”

“Then give me one.”

“I will not give you a gun!” she exclaimed heartily. “And besides that is not why we’re here right now.”

“You obviously wanted to reprimand me. That’s done. So what shall we do now?” He stood up and gave her one of his award-winning smiles and wriggling his eyebrows seductively. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Now it’s time for your punishment. Give me your belt,” she said holding out her hand. He stood flabbergasted for a moment, gaping at her.

“My punishment?” he repeated. “What punishment? I am the one to punish people. – And why would you need my belt?” He took a careful step back out of her reach. This was not how he had expected this evening to go down when the Detective had announced that she would be coming to the penthouse. Punishment. He almost snorted at the thought. He was the devil. The devil did not get punished. She was still standing there holding out her hand, obviously waiting for him to comply. And that was when it dawned on him what she was planning to do!

“Detective! You cannot plan what I think you’re planning to do!” he exclaimed, hastily taking another step back. His hands grabbed his belt unconsciously. She just looked him straight in the eye, a very determined look upon her face.

“You always talk about how people deserve to be punished when they do something wrong. You will be punished for assaulting our informant, stealing my car and going after our suspect alone with blatant disregard for your own safety.” She crooked her fingers at him, motioning him closer. He couldn’t move. His mind was racing. Surely she must be joking. He stared at her standing there. Her posture hadn’t changed. She didn’t look as if she was joking. Which unnerved him. And then there was this tiny, annoying voice in his head that kept saying: ‘You deserve this. You know she’s right. Bad deeds incur punishment. You of all people should know that.’ The Detective still did not look any less determined. There was obviously no way out of this. He sighed.

“Fine. You’re right,” he said and began to unbuckle his belt and pull it through the loops of his designer slacks. It was a thick leather belt and he already regretted wearing it today. He wasn’t invincible anymore and he would definitely feel this. He held the belt in his hand for a moment just looking at it. Then he glanced at the Detective and back at the belt. And finally handed it over with another sigh.

“Thank you,” she said taking it and doubling it over.

“For what?” he asked bewildered.

“For doing this without a fight,” she replied. “Okay. Take off your suit jacket.” He did as he was told throwing the jacket over the back of an armchair. Then he looked at her nervously. Which he hated. Not looking at her, he liked that. She was a pleasure to look at. The nervousness, well, unnerved him. The devil did not get nervous. She gestured towards the back of the sofa and he followed her lead. Slowly walking to the designed spot with – and he hated to admit that too – quivering legs. His invincibility was gone. He would FEEL this. And it would HURT. He made to bend over the backrest, getting in position, when her next sentence made his blood run cold.

“Drop your pants.” He whirled back around staring at her wide-eyed. The prospect of being smacked like a child was bad enough and now she wanted to make it worse?

“I want to see what I’m doing, Lucifer,” she said quietly. “I don’t wanna risk bruising you.”

“But... but it’s a child’s punishment!” he exclaimed loudly. “Why don’t you just go ahead and put me over your knee while you’re at it!”

“Would you prefer that?”

“No! I most certainly would not!” he shouted agitatedly.

“Then don’t make this harder on yourself,” she replied. “Drop your pants – both of them – or I will do it for you and then put you over my knee.” Bloody woman! He threw her a half pleading half angry look, but complied. He unfastened his trousers and let them fall to his ankles, then pushed down his underpants and quickly bent over the sofa to hide his embarrassment in a couch cushion. This was not how he had envisioned stripping in front of the detective. He felt her moving to his left side and felt very aware that he was naked and bent over a sofa to receive a smacking. She put a hand on his back and pushed up his shirt.

“Okay. Tell me, why you’re being punished?” she asked. His ears turned beet red at that. Did she want him to parrot his misdeeds back to her like an eight-year-old?

“Don’t you think that’s taking it a bit too far?” he sneered with as much dignity as he could muster. He heard the swishing of the belt a millisecond before it snapped against his naked butt raising him up on his toes. Dad, that hurt.

“Ow!” he exclaimed.

“Answer the question,” she ordered. He stubbornly remained silent. “Fine. We’re doing this the hard way then.” His head shot up from the cushion, as the belt found its target a second time. And a third. And a fourth. At the twelfth smack he gave in.

“All right! All right! – Ow! – I’ll tell you! Stop for a moment would you,” he pleaded. To his surprise the Detective actually gave him a moment’s reprieve. He gulped in air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“I’m waiting,” she said. “What are you getting spanked for?”

“Please don’t call it that!” he cried out. “That’s embarrassing!”

“Answer the question, Lucifer.”

“Fine. You’re punishing me for assaulting the informant. Although that got results,” he mumbled the last part and was rewarded with a hefty smack that made him kick his leg slightly.

“That is not the point! It is not allowed so you won’t do it anymore! You’re getting ten for that,” the Detective said and resumed smacking. He couldn’t stay still any longer; his legs started jerking involuntarily with each smack.

“What else?” the Detective asked. He took a deep breath.

“I stole your car and went after the suspect alone,” he replied quickly wiping a treacherous stray tear from his face.

“Also right,” she said patting his back, which was oddly comforting given his current predicament. But he didn’t have time to dwell on this any longer as she resumed strapping him. He buried his face in the cushion, biting it even as she just kept on smacking him. A tiny voice in his head reminded him that she hadn’t announced how many smacks he would receive for this misdeed. But the pain was slowly building up to an intolerable level and the thought vanished. He couldn’t suppress small sounds of distress any longer. His legs started moving of their own accord trying to eliminate the burning sensation in his posterior but to no avail.

He clenched and unclenched his hands and wiped the tears off his face. And bloody hell, when would this woman stop? He would never be able to enjoy spanking as a pleasurable experience during sex anymore.

To his great embarrassment he eventually started crying. He couldn’t help it. It hurt! And then when he was starting to seriously contemplate begging, she finally stopped and put the belt away. He remained bent over the couch, drying his tears and controlling his breathing while she patted his back. Stroked it actually. Which felt nice. After a few moments he slowly pushed himself up. The Detective turned around to give him some privacy to straighten his clothes. Not that it mattered anymore since she had reduced him to a crying, quivering mess just moments before by smacking his arse. He pulled his pants up, hissing quietly and wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeves.

“Are you okay?” the Detective asked. “Have you learned from this?”

“That you most certainly carry one hell of a swing,” he joked looking at the ground and concentrating on not rubbing his butt.

“I’m serious.”

“Yes, I have” he mumbled. “No more risking my life by doing stupid things. I got it.” He slowly lifted his eyes to glance at her.

“Then you’re forgiven,” she said. “Come here.”

“Forgiven?” he repeated.

“Well sure. And now you get a hug and all’s forgotten.” She opened his arms and beckoned him closer. Slowly he approached trying to wrap his mind around what she’d just said. She engulfed him in a hug, pulling his head down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “We won’t talk of this again. Your slate is wiped clean.” She held him for several long moments. And he cherished every one of them. It felt good to be held. Then she pressed him to her chest one more time and pulled back but kept her hands on his arms.

“Are you really okay?” she asked again looking concerned. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Of course I am,” he replied smirking at her. “And I would think you’d appreciate my silence.”

“I have to keep that in mind when you won’t shut up the next time I ask you to,” she said and laughed as she saw his shocked expression.

“You’ll do that again?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course I will. Every time you put your life at risk, I will do this.” She looked at him with a grim expression. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned and left the apartment leaving him speechlessly standing there. Gaping slightly at her retreating back and thinking that he would have to be more careful with his life from now on.