Author's Note: Written for a prompt challenge on Livejournal for a fellow writer.
Lucifer, Lucifer/trixie (and Chloe/lucifer?)
Lucifer is forced into babysitting Trixie. Trixie's curious about spanking after hearing a friend mention it, and she misbehaves then convinces Lucifer that her mom would say he has to spank her. otk please, not too harsh, awkward cuddles after :) If you wish, Chloe can be less than impressed at his actions when he returns and give him a taste of his own medicine!
Summary: Lucifer is forced into babysitting Trixie for a few hours. Trixie is curious about spanking after hearing a friend mention it, conning Lucifer into showing her how it works. Upon her return Chloe is far from impressed and gives him a taste of his own medicine.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warnings: light spanking of a child and spanking of an adult. I do not advocate this behaviour in real life, only in fiction.

Inquisitive little Worm

“Lucifer, what’s a spanking?” the small human asked suddenly. He didn’t know what made him extend the offer to the Detective to watch her offspring as she needed to do some quick Christmas shopping, but somehow he did. Which left him stuck at the Detective’s house, entertaining a child. He desperately hoped that she’d be back soon.

“It’s a punishment,” he replied jovially, throwing the dice and moving his token the appropriate number of steps. “Usually reserved for children. – How did this train of thought come about?”

“Alex from school said that his mom would give him a spanking for his bad grades,” Trixie explained.

“How unfortunate for Alex,” Lucifer said. “It’s your turn.”

“How does it work?” Trixie asked, making no move to pick up the dice and continue their insipid game of Ludo that she had insisted on playing. A shame really, because Lucifer was on his path to a glorious victory. Maybe afterwards he could convince her to learn poker.

“How does what work?”

“The spanking. How does it work?” Trixie clarified. Regarding her expectant face for a few moments, Lucifer decided that no harm would be done if he told the inquisitive little worm. The Detective had threatened dire consequences if her offspring was not in one piece upon her return and decreed that only child-appropriate activities were allowed. Which had been the sure death verdict for any fun to be had.

“Well, usually the little miscreant is placed over the parent’s knee, or made to bend over something, and then the parent slaps its bum until it is repentant.”

“But hitting is wrong.”

“It’s not hitting, it’s slapping.” If explaining things to human offspring was always this taxing, it was no wonder that parents carded their progeny off to school to have teachers take over this job. At least they were paid for it – if poorly. “Now, let’s continue this game.” Again the child made no move to heed his wishes, but looked deep in thought. Well, as deeply in thought as a human child could look.

“So, Alex’s mom hits him?” she finally asked, an uncertain expression on her face.

“No,” Lucifer contradicted slowly, already starting to regret that he’d told her. “Not hitting. Slapping. – Spanking. – And if he is indeed doing poorly in his studies, I’d say it’s well-deserved.”

“Do you think that if I had bad grades, Mommy or Daddy would spank me?” she suddenly inquired, looking at him with wide brown eyes.

“How should I know, child,” Lucifer said exasperated. “How do your parents usually correct your behaviour?”

“They don’t spank me,” she replied, shoulders shrugging. “Did you get spanked as a child?”

“Yes, indeed, I did,” Lucifer replied. He’d also been spanked as an adult, but upon Detective Decker’s edict anything even remotely related to sex, was not to be talked about with, in front of or even in the vicinity of the child. So he wisely kept that information to himself.


“It’s the oldest form of punishment,” he explained. “Invented by the very first parents to correct their ill-behaved offspring.” That seemed to have confused the child, if the expression on her face was anything to go by. “It’s effective and must be good for something since it’s still not uncommon millennia later.”

“Then why haven’t I been spanked?” the child asked, her round eyes looking at him imploringly. He could only shrug his shoulders. He certainly didn’t know – or care – about the Detective’s child-rearing techniques.

“What did you do?” she asked curiously, already onto her next train of thought. “Did you also fail your math test?” Chuckling softly, Lucifer shook his head slightly and leant back in amusement. “What did you do then?” she repeated eagerly scooting closer, abandoning any pretences to continue the board game that half an hour ago had been the centre of her attention.

Sighing and pondering her request for a few moments, Lucifer again decided that no harm would come of this and searched his mind for a memory that was human child appropriate, if he edited a bit. Thinking of the happier times they’d had in the Silver City, before Dad was preoccupied with humanity and Mum hell-bent on destroying it.

“Right, let’s see,” he started. “My brother and I were playing a game.”

“What kind of game?” she interrupted.

“I can’t remember.” He could, but he didn’t want to explain the complex celestial games he’d played with his siblings. The child probably wouldn’t understand or would want to play it – which was impossible. “It’s not important for the story.”

“Oh,” she mumbled disappointed, but immediately perked up again as he continued.

“Anyway, Michael was better, more proficient than I was at the time. At first it was fun. But Michael kept winning and I didn’t like losing. Needless to say, I got angry. Mum told me to calm down quite a few times or she’d end our game. We – I didn’t listen. And Michael won again and again. With every loss, I got angrier.” He remembered Michael clearly; angelic face framed by soft, blond hair – very, very blond hair – a gleam of superiority always about him. On the surface, a stark contrast to Lucifer’s dark-haired mop of hair; but they’d been cut from the same sort of decks. Very similar in nature; probably one of the reasons that later, much later, they had battled most viciously during Lucifer’s rebellion. Both fighting fiercely for what they believed in. But as children they’d usually got along splendidly. Teaming up to play pranks on the ever serious Amenadiel, and tease annoying Uriel. Happy times it had been. He sighed, suddenly not eager to think about old memories anymore. “To cut a long story short, I hurled the game at his smug face, yelling abuse that brought about a feeling of satisfaction. It was short-lived, however. Mum made short work of putting me over her knee and slapping my butt until I saw the error of my ways and promised not to hurl anything at my brother anymore.”

“Did Michael cheat?” Trixie asked.

“I don’t think so,” Lucifer replied, flabbergasted at the direction of her musing. “He’s a self-righteous, annoying twit, but not a cheater. – He was older and just excelled at this particular game.”

“Okay,” Trixie said. “What’s a twit?”

“That is a question for your father, I think,” Lucifer said quickly, satisfied to have found a way out of that minefield. “Let’s continue this game.” Noting with a growing sense of foreboding the pensive expression on the child’s face as her attention was once again drawn towards the board game.

They continued their game for the next minutes while Lucifer’s advance steadily grew. Although he strongly suspected that the child was losing on purpose. He also had an inkling about the reasons of her forced defeat. He probably shouldn’t have told her that story. Smiling softly to himself he continued, curious about her plans.

And just as he was about to put his remaining token safely behind the finish line, the spawn grabbed the board game and in a very poor display of rage threw it across the room, before looking at him with an expression that he assumed should be fury, but was much too expectant for that. He regarded her shortly, until he couldn’t suppress to chuckle any longer.

“Nice try,” he finally said. “But you’re going to have to work on that, I’m afraid.”

“What? But why?” she asked, confusion clear on her face. “That’s what you did to get spanked.” Chuckling again, he leant back casually.

“No, it wasn’t,” Lucifer said with laugh. “First of all, I aimed at my brother’s face – with success. And with a much heavier object, I might add.”

“I should have thrown this at you?” Trixie asked incredulously.

“If you were going for a proper tantrum, you should have.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” the child said miserably. “And I’m not really angry,” she admitted with a sad sigh.

“And therein lays another problem,” Lucifer explained. “A tantrum doesn’t work if you’re not angry. You have to really work up to it. I thought children were the indisputable masters of this trait?”

“But how do I get spanked then?” she asked sadly, not giving his words any mind.

“It pains me to say so, but you’re too well-behaved to ever earn one,” Lucifer said lightly, feeling the inexplicable urge to … comfort her? Maybe he could pat her on the head? He shook off the pesky feeling with a roll of his shoulders.

“But I wanna know what it feels like!” she exclaimed, looking somewhat crestfallen at the realisation. He could understand the child’s curiosity. He was never one to miss out on an opportunity to make new experiences. Hell, he’d made it his life goal to experience as many different things as he managed. But having been on the receiving end of that particular one, he really wouldn’t recommend anybody to try it.

“You’ll just have to live with the unknown, then,” he said, biting back the retort about pleasurable experience to be had once she had grown up and feeling a unique sense of pride about doing so.

“Can’t you just do it?” she asked suddenly, hopeful eyes looking at him.

“I doubt that your mother would be in agreement with this,” Lucifer replied evasively.

“She wouldn’t like me throwing the board game,” Trixie said gesturing towards the mess near the wall.

“That I’m quite certain of,” Lucifer agreed. “But she wouldn’t spank you. She’d probably make you tidy it up though.”

“But I really, really wanna know,” she said. “And didn’t you tell me that if you really want something you should take it?” Smirking at her deceptive way to use his own words against him, he might have felt something akin to pride swell in his breast. He’d deny it of course. But this human child was showing all the right signs for a marvellous future. Also he regretted starting this entire conversation because her whining tone was beginning to grate on his nerves. If smacking her a few times to make her drop the issue was the solution, he suddenly wasn’t so declined anymore. Furthermore he really didn’t want to quench her inquisitive streak. Although he suspected that the Detective would strongly disagree with his line of thought and would most certainly make him regret it later.

“All right then,” Lucifer conceded. “Come here.” He motioned her closer with his hand and she followed his directive quickly and far too eagerly, coming to a sudden halt right in front of him. Deciding that he might as well do this properly, he asked, “Do you really want to do this?” Receiving an immediate nod, he sighed, grabbed her arm firmly, but not too tight, reminding himself that humans and especially human children were delicate, turned her sideways and bent her slightly over his left leg, her feet never leaving the ground as she was still mostly upright, before bringing his other hand down in a what he hoped to be moderate slap on her tiny bum. A startled intake of breath was her response, her free hand gripping his trousers tightly. Bristling shortly about the wrinkles she would surely leave, he slapped her again. He’d already decided that a handful of smacks would probably suffice to have her get the picture and stifle her curiosity.

“Ow,” she whimpered, her grip tightening. Another slap and a slightly louder ‘ow’ had him questioning his methods and he quickly finished up with another, much lighter slap before turning her back to face him. In horror he noticed unshed tears glistening in her eyes. His mind frantically searching for something to do or say to prevent her from crying. He had not signed up to deal with tears! Her small hand crept back to undoubtedly grab at her butt, while the other one was used to rub at her eyes. And then – without warning or foreboding – she hurled herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Fearing an attack, Lucifer froze, before remembering that once upon a time he had done exactly the same thing after his Mother had disciplined him. So he awkwardly wrapped his arm around her and let her scrabble onto his lap. At least there was no bawling. He had to suppress a shudder at the mere thought of ruining his pristine suit with snot and tears.

“There, there,” he said, patting her back uncomfortably in response to the sniffling. Fortunately it didn’t take her long to stifle her tears and she moved her head away from the crook of his neck. Readjusting her position, her pointy knee came dangerously close to his important bits, before she settled more comfortably on his leg.

“That hurt,” she exclaimed reproachfully, looking up at him. He felt decidedly uncomfortable with the child so close to him, not knowing where to put his hands and what to do.

“Well, what did you expect, child?” he asked amused. “It is punishment.”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I wanted to know what it feels like.”

“And now that you do, I believe a second experience is the farthest thing on your mind,” Lucifer said lightly. “So I’d say it’s yielded the aspired results.”

“I’m just glad Mom and Dad don’t do that,” she groused, fiddling with his pocket square.

“Now, how about you get away from me,” Lucifer suggested. “And we’ll see about getting you some hot chocolate and cake?”

“Chocolate cake?” the little girl asked excitedly already jumping off his lap. Her punishment already all but forgotten by the prospect of sweets.

“Of course.”


An hour later, when Lucifer and Trixie were lounging on the couch watching some very pink, very loud and very insipid Disney Princess movie, the Detective returned from her errand looking worn and tired. She threw a fond smile at the occupants of her sofa, putting her purse down and closing the door with a soft click.

“Mommy,” Trixie exclaimed gleefully as she noticed her. “You’re back!”

“Detective,” Lucifer greeted her. Chloe settled down between them, giving her daughter a warm smile and returned her hug.

“I am,” she said squeezing her daughter tightly. “How was your day?”

“Guess what? – Lucifer spanked me!” Trixie told her gleefully, scrambling back to her end of the couch. Chloe stared at her daughter for a few moments, not quite believing what she’d just heard. Upon Trixie’s expectant and … happy (?) expression, she finally forced herself to assemble her thoughts.

“Child, you can’t tell it like that!” Lucifer meanwhile objected. “You have to tell her the whole story.”

“He did what, monkey?” Chloe asked, ignoring her partner for the moment. He’d deal with him later, when she’d got the whole story from her daughter and made sure that she was unharmed.

“He spanked me!” she repeated, just as gleefully as before.

“Why did he do that?” she asked carefully.

“I threw the board game after losing,” she replied, a big grin still plastered on her face and Chloe feared that her child had been brain washed. Whirling around, she threw her partner a dark look.

“You spanked her for that?” she inquired incredulously, catching Lucifer by surprise.

“No,” Lucifer answered, brows furrowed. “Of course not! – I told her I wouldn’t do it.”

“You spanked my child? My child?” she hissed at him, not reacting to his words in the slightest.

“Mommy, it’s okay.” Her daughter’s voice made her turn back around after having plastered a fake smile on her face. “I asked him to. I wanted to know what it feels like.”

“Monkey, why would you do that?” she queried carefully, assessing Trixie for any obvious signs of injury or trauma. She seemed fine. More than fine, happy! Not taking the nonsense that was sprouting out of her mouth into account, that is.

“Alex from school told me that his mom spanks him for bad grades,” she said, as if that somehow made everything clear. “So I wanted to know what it is.”

“And of course you showed her?” she said turning back to look at Lucifer, glare firmly back on her face. Her partner recoiled, looking flustered. He was saved by the bell from any further outbursts – quite literally. Throwing him another dark look, she got up to open the door.

“Hi, Mrs. Decker!” a chirpy voice greeted her. It was Trixie’s friend Sarah who lived next door. “Can Trixie come out to play?”

“Oh, yes, can I, Mommy? Please? Please? Pretty please?” Trixie begged, the movie forgotten and already scrambling to put on her shoes. Chloe pressed her fingers to her eyes for a short moment, before plastering a smile on her face and answering, “Sure, monkey, just wait a couple more minutes. I want to talk to you. – She’ll be out soon, Sarah.” Sarah returned to her bike that had been left on the sidewalk to wait for her friend. Chloe closed the door again, crouching down to look her daughter in the eye. She put both of her hands on her shoulders to make sure she had her undivided attention.

“Are you really okay, monkey?” she asked solemnly, watching Trixie closely for any signs of unusual behaviour. But her daughter seemed fine. Upbeat really. Which left Chloe baffled.

“Yes, Mommy,” the little girl replied just as solemn. “I asked Lucifer to do it. – Can I go outside now?”

“Mmh. Okay,” Chloe replied, hugging her daughter close for a moment. “Be safe.” As soon as her mother’s arms let her go, Trixie was out the door, calling for Sarah to wait up.

Satisfied that her daughter would be out of earshot for at least an hour, she turned around to glare at Lucifer, who had watched the exchange from his position on the couch. He stood up when the Detective’s attention settled on him. She did not look pleased.

“Why in God’s name would you spank my child?” she finally asked through gritted teeth.

“First of all, not doing anything in His name,” Lucifer corrected slightly miffed. “And secondly, your offspring was insistent. I’m all for new experiences myself and she seemed determined to see this through.”

“You spanked a seven-year-old to satisfy her curiosity?” she summarised angrily. “Couldn’t you just have explained it to her? Did this thought not cross your mind?”

“Of course it did!” Lucifer replied in indignation. “And I did explain it! – She still wanted to know! What was I to do?”

“Not that!” Chloe said, voice rising slightly. “Children have strange questions sometimes! That’s when you explain to them that what they’re trying to experience is possibly harmful! – And if that doesn’t help, you try to distract! Or tell her that it’s a topic she should discuss with me or Dan! – You do not indulge her!”

“She asked me to!” Lucifer repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. In situations like these he could see where the offspring got her stubborn streak from.

“She’s seven! You’re an adult! You do not cater to every whim of a seven-year-old!” Chloe said firmly.

“In my defence, you never said that! You told me to keep her out of harm’s way and I did.”

“Yes, by causing harm yourself!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Detective. It was a few swats. Nothing to freak out about.” Chloe could only stare at him in disbelief, before coming to a sudden decision.

“Maybe, what you need is a taste of your own medicine,” she stated pointing an angry finger at his face before abruptly turning around and stalking towards the small kitchen area in search of an implement she could use to give him a sound thrashing. Make him see that a few swats were indeed reason to freak out about.

“I have plenty of experience, Detective, thank you very much.”

“Bend over the table,” she ordered pointing at the piece of furniture without turning around while rummaging through a drawer. She had already made up her mind and would follow through with it before her courage left her. She just needed something to underline her message.

“I like it when you take charge,” he replied with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows and she had to clench her jaw to keep herself from throttling him. “I knew you had a hidden kink somewhere.”

“Bend over,” she repeated, returning from the small kitchen area with a wooden spatula in her hand. It was heavy and sturdy and would do nicely. She’d cure him of this foolhardy notion to cater to every of her daughter’s wishes. Who knew what else she could have come up with?

“Do you want me to undress now? Or would you like to do the honours yourself?” No desire to continue this unnecessary discussion or to look at his smug face any longer, Chloe grabbed his arm and forcefully propelled him towards the dining room table.

“Uh, bossy.” Shoving him down, she put a restraining hand on his back, before drawing the arm holding the spatula back and letting it descend quickly. The forceful whack resounded throughout the room and Lucifer drew in a startled gasp. A reaction very similar to the offspring’s earlier that day, he mused. Not giving him a chance to protest her ministrations, Chloe brought the implement down again.

“If you want this to be foreplay, you will have to ease up on the force behind those swats.” Lucifer groused, balling his hands in response to the sting brought about by the third smack. This was far from a pleasurable experience! It hurt!

“This is not foreplay, Lucifer,” Chloe explained, smacking him again and watching him twitch with a sense of satisfaction she didn’t dare to admit. “This is punishment. – A demonstration of what you put my daughter through.”

“I did nothing that she didn’t specifically ask for!” he protested loudly. “Ow!”

“I can’t believe that I have to tell you this twice! She is seven! Don’t fulfil seven-year-olds’ wishes if they sound ludicrous and possibly harmful!” she ordered, bringing the spatula down again.

“I gave her only four slaps, you know!” Lucifer yelled loudly, postponing his explanations and protest to another time, when he wasn’t feeling so acutely in pain and it wouldn’t take most of his energy to suppress his whimpers.

“She’s seven. You’re thirty-seven. You can do the math,” Chloe replied without sympathy.

“You plan to give me twenty-one whacks with that thing?!” he asked after a short pause, incredulity clear in his voice, his hands scrambling for something to hold onto on the table’s surface.

“No, you’re getting twenty-five,” Chloe retorted, another smack finding its target. She increased the strength of her hand on his back as he started shifting his weight from foot to foot and straining the muscles in his legs and back.

“That …ow! That’s a highly inaccurate calculation!” Lucifer protested. “Maybe you should revise your mathematical skills, if you struggle with simple arithmetic! Or ask Alex’ mother for advice on how to deal with laziness towards one’s studies.”

“I’m rounding up,” she quipped, astonished at his insolence. Did he think insulting her would do him a favour right now? “Now, I’d highly recommend you to be quiet if you don’t want me to add another five for that attitude.”

“This is incredibly unjustified!” he proclaimed loudly. “And I refuse to succumb to this!” He made a memorable effort to push himself up, but the Detective’s restraining hand on his back shifted to his neck, gripping him painfully in some kind of Vulcan Death Grip that they must teach at the academy and the unyielding implement smacked forcefully down on his thigh. Closely followed by another one on the other thigh and he couldn’t suppress a groan of pain. His resistance immediately quelled, he sunk back onto the table.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Chloe replied. “Hold still. You have thirteen more to come.”

“Thirteen?!” Lucifer winced. “Aah! – Are you sure you’ve counted correctly?”

“You’re right,” Chloe agreed. “Let’s make that fifteen.”

“What? – No! OW! Bloody hell! That hurts!” It was growing steadily more difficult to suppress his reactions to the sharp pain that was inflicted repeatedly onto his poor rear. And to his eternal embarrassment, he felt his eyes burn with the threat of tears. “I’m sorry!” he yelled, hoping an apology was what the Detective aimed for.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, never tiring in her onslaught.

“Bloody hell!” he swore again. “For satisfying your spawn’s curiosity! – Aah!” The Detective never gave a verbal reply, instead letting the remaining smacks rain down in a flurry before putting the spatula down and loosening her grip on his neck. He bolted upright and out of her reach, trying to catch his breath and inconspicuously wipe at his eyes.

“Bloody hell,” he repeated softly, eyeing the Detective apprehensively and put his hands back to gently examine the damage on his backside. It felt plenty warm even through the fabric of his trousers. “You could give my Mother a run for her money,” he groused and Chloe had to bite back a grin at his grouchy expression. His hair was mussed and his clothing dishevelled making him look oddly adorable.

“I hope I’ve made my point on this matter clear,” she settled on saying.

“You most certainly did,” he agreed. “No more deals with your offspring.”

“Okay, then.” They stood facing each other uncertainly for a few uncomfortable moments.

“You know, I gave your child a hug afterwards,” Lucifer teased lightly.

“You hugged Trixie?” Chloe repeated doubtfully. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, she threw herself at me. What was I supposed to do?” Lucifer admitted, looking at his feet. Laughing loudly, Chloe motioned him towards her with a flick of her hand.

“Come here, you,” she said engulfing him in a bear hug, squeezing tightly. “Thanks for watching her.”

“You’re quite welcome, Detective,” he said, finally returning the embrace. “Although I hereby state my refusal to do so again, if this is how you express your gratitude.” Chloe chuckled against his chest. “Unless it’s foreplay, then I could be persuaded.”

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