Her Name Was Lucifer

Note- I pictured Humphry Bogart and Bettie Page as the main characters, but whatever works for you is fine.

xxx

San Francisco, 1940.

xxx

There was no question it was her. At first glance I thought her to be no more than thirty five, but the more I looked the more uncertain I was. One sure thing was that she was all woman. A woman who was glad to be female in every sense. This woman would never be seen in jeans or sweater or flat heels. Only the most elegant outfits at all times would suffice. And the most feminine. In fact she was just my type, long legged and busty. Sensuous and dangerous at the same time. As I approached her she looked up at me with the most penetrating eyes of green I had ever seen, emphasized even more by her choice of heavy shadow and curling lashes. In her right hand she held a tumbler, in the other a long black cigarette holder. I turned my crumpled hat over and over in my hands like a schoolboy in trouble with the principal as she looked me over.

"You must be Mister Rake. You're not very tall are you?"

As she spoke there was a twinkling, almost mocking quality in her eyes.

"Sorry, Mrs. Butler. I try to be."

"Light me."

I reached for my lighter and lit the cigarette that poked out of the holder, never wavering from her piercing gaze. I guessed that she must be close to six feet tall and she cut a striking figure as she held herself upright in her chair, assured and aloof. Clothed in a dress of clinging black satin, floor length and shining, she gave off an almost feline look. Under it her pale figure was curvy and voluptuous, slim in the waist, and her top heavy bust thrust out of a square cut neckline. The long sleeves were full to the elbow where her tight kid gloves in black took over. She took a long puff of smoke and let it out in a slow exhalation through pouting crimson lips. Her hair must have taken hours to prepare and the raven locks spanned out past her collarbones in layered waves. A fashion of the time her oval face was complimented by her short jet black bangs.

"Yes, I am Sam Rake. I saw your advert in the Chronicle asking for a private detective. Money no object."

It was back in '18 at the end of the war that Jake Purvis took me, a green young eighteen year old from Idaho, under his wing. We were in the same outfit in France and he had told me of his life as a private dick and how it was exciting and well paid. He needed a sidekick and offered me the job. I went along and when Jake died took over the partnership lock, stock and barrel. Big deal! The job was lousy, badly paid and downright perverse. Way too many divorce cases for my liking.

"You're the third response to my ad, but absolutely you are the one."

The woman crossed her shapely pins that were covered in mesh stockings and looked directly into my eyes. That was music to my ears. I needed dough, and I needed it fast. The car had to repaired after I pranged the cheating wife I was tailing a bit too close. My rent was two months overdue and I was getting sick of living on coffee and donuts for a lousy ten cents a day. I didn't know it then, but I do now, that I must have been plain stupid to listen to her.

"Sit."

We were in the private room at the back of the Homestead Bar on Folsom Street. The joint hadn't changed one bit since the turn of the century and had been a speakeasy during Prohibition. I had put on my last good suit and had taken the brisk walk from my office. She had called to arrange a face to face meet at eight sharp and I had just made it. I made my way quickly through the usual crowd and found my prospective client alone at the table. A waiter came over and gave her a fresh drink and then he turned to me.

"Whiskey for you, Sir? How do you like it?"

"In a glass," I answered dryly.

"So, you're a private detective. I didn't believe they really existed."

I reached into my pocket for my smokes and lit my twentieth Camel of the day. I had toyed with the idea of quitting but smoking was my sole enjoyment of late.

"We do, but barely."

"How are you for money?"

Good question. I was so broke I had been banging two nickels together all week trying to get them to mate. All I had at this moment in time was a coat, a hat and a gun. As she didn't expect an answer she put her right hand into her ample cleavage and magically produced a roll of bills. Now that was my kind of a bank! She peeled of one and handed it to me before replacing the roll where the sun don't shine. It was a fifty.

"Come to my place tomorrow morning. Alone. I have some use of your services."

She handed me a card with her address and rose to leave.

"Good evening, Mister Rake."

I also stood and watched her leave and didn't avert my gaze until she was gone. I caught the eye of the waiter and summoned him to my table.

"Another whiskey, sir?"

I nodded and drained my glass.

"And bring me the bottle."

I looked at the crisp fifty in my greasy mitt and it said 'spend me, spend me' and I obliged.

x

At eleven the next morning I drove over to her place and rang the bell. I was neat, clean and shaved. Almost sober but I figured three out of four was pretty good going. I was in quite a state of anticipation as I looked at the impressive front door which had little hand carvings of cherubs or some such creatures. After a good minute I pushed on the door and it gave way so I decided to enter the main hallway. I was expected at least. Nobody was around so I ventured inside the first big room on my right. I looked around the living room which was filled with antique furniture, expensive vases and the like. The whole room reeked of money, and plenty of it. It was obvious, the dame was loaded. One large oil painting, a portrait, took pride and place over the mantle. An old grandfather clock struck 11.15 and I turned as Mrs. Butler seemed to appear out of nowhere and tottered over to the fireplace in her over the knee towering boots. Highly polished, the black kid boots seemed to be almost buttery in appearance. My mouth hung open at the sight of her upper body that was encased in a seemingly suffocating bustier with a low cut bust line. Her jutting breasts swelled and threatened to leap out as she inhaled and I adjusted the collar of my cheap shirt in a little discomfort. The whalebones were all clearly outlined with an emphasis at the top and bottom. Her already natural small waist was cinched in and her hips undulated enticingly as a result. She smiled at me and I smiled weakly back at her. This was not her everyday attire surely?

"This is my late husband, Oliver. He left me simply everything you know. I wish for nothing. Well. that's not quite the truth. Thinking about it, you look remarkably alike. Hey! Oliver!"

A caged raven chirped loudly and the woman tapped on the metal frame. She rolled her hips as she walked slowly in her short black skirt which shaped itself to her rounded ass and her boots creaked audibly. I looked at the portrait again as she fed the bird some stale bread. There was a resemblance for sure and I wondered what this thing was all about.

"Yes, my bird is called Oliver too. May I call YOU Oliver as well? Makes things easier don't you think?"

I sat in silence, bemused by the whole thing.

"Is there something wrong, Oliver?"

"No. No, I just wondered when we were getting down to business is all."

"Soon, my dear soon. Here, have a drink."

She handed me a whiskey tumbler and I took the shot in one gulp.

"My, my. Someone is thirsty. Another?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Butler."

"Lucy. Call me Lucy. Although my real name is Bettie. My husband Oliver always called me Lucy. For Lucifer. It was our little joke."

I took a healthy swig of the whiskey which immediately went to my head. Not the usual effect. This woman seemed to me to be a few cards short of a deck as she chattered on, her eyes on me all the time as I wiped sweat from my brow. Something was wrong. I patted my left breast pocket and felt a little reassured as I caressed the welcome bulge my Colt revolver.

"You do look a fright, Oliver. Can't take hard liquor, is that it?"

As the room began to spin I suspected that the treacherous Lucy had given me a micky finn.

x

"Here's the deal. I won't kill you but you will be my slave. You will live for me and only me. At my command you shall react. If I say bark, you will bark."

I blinked in the light and observed long shadows on the blank walls. We had switched rooms and I felt somewhat disoriented. The ominous staccato of high heels made me wake up from my drugged state and I tried to get up. Much to my chagrin I found myself bound to a four legged chair, back to front, and stark bollock naked! I tried to speak but a leather harness gag had been placed around my head. My arms were thrust out through the bars at the back of the chair and my wrists were in handcuffs. Both of my ankles were tied firmly to the legs of the chair and I was unable to move an inch. This broad knew her stuff.

"You see, my dear departed Oliver and I were devil worshippers but since his passing I have lost some of the enthusiasm I once had. We never sacrificed anyone mind. But the sexual side I crave more than ever. My biggest thrill is seeing men squirm, to humiliate them. Having them pander to my needs. When Oliver found me I was a twenty year old, two bit whore on the streets of Los Angeles with no goal in life nor close friends. Oliver changed all that. I had no idea where all my pent up feelings of domination came from but through our worship of Lucifer I understood the meaning of real eroticism."

As I tuned out her babbling about her life I tensed my muscles as I tested my ankle bonds. I was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The smoking hot brunette stood over me with her heels well apart and her hands on her hips. She was now naked except for her very sheer dark nylons and stiletto spike heeled shoes that made her a rather imposing figure. Her enormous breasts hung free and undulated as she moved and her hips swayed seductively. My eyes went wide as I now noticed the thin riding crop in her right fist. I whimpered like a baby as the vixen pushed it between my dangling testicles and separated them into two distinct plums. She leaned forwards and I looked down her huge cleavage and my cock rose to attention. With her left hand she stroked my hard on from base to head, flicking the swollen glans with her index finger.

"You have quite a big organ, Oliver."

As she studied my pecker, her hot breath on my skin just inches away, I reached full erection. I could only watch as she held up an arrangement of leather straps and proceeded to loop and buckle them around my aching dick and balls. One wide section went up behind my sack and another held my prick upright. Lucy concentrated as she secured a third, thinner strap that separated both testicles and cinched tightly about the base.

"Let us move on."

She dragged out a sort of flat bondage table on wheels and placed it behind the chair I was tied to. As she walked her stockings made a soft swish sound as nylon brushed nylon and my trapped erection swayed in front of me. My cuffs were undone and my ankle ties and I prepared to make my move but I must have still been affected by the micky finn as I felt as weak as a kitten. Lucy pulled me down and I was stretched out flat on my belly on the top of the bondage table. I was still sporting an enforced erection and was surprised that there was a convenient cut out just where my groin settled and my stiff slipped through it. My wrists were secured by two leather straps above my head and as I tried to understand what was going on my ankles were quickly secured by more straps. Lucy worked fast and before I knew it my upper thighs were tied together by one broad strap. With my bare ass stuck up in the air I struck a sorry and vulnerable sight.

"This is what I term correction, Oliver. A necessary part of your training."

She showed me a whalebone hairbrush and happily twirled it in her hand a few times. Lucy raised it and hit me square on my unprotected buttocks four times with the flat side. I grimaced in pain from each blow. She definitely had plenty of experience in spanking as she hit the target with every whack. The next four cracks hit me on a different part of my rear and each searing impact hurt more than the last. Every inch of my backside stung like fury and I imagined my rump to be an angry red. I felt her run her fingertips over my inflamed ass, admiring her handiwork no doubt and I shivered at her touch. Then I grunted as the brush crashed down on my bare ass again. The pain was horrendous and I clenched automatically as my spanking doubled her efforts on my stricken rear end. She targeted the very bottom of my cheeks and this pain far exceeded the previous punishment. I received one final spank for luck on my right cheek and she kept the brush pressed to my flesh as if burning a brand into me. Then the onslaught was over and I was left alone. I closed my eyes and had no idea of how much time had passed but the next thing I knew was Lucy hovering next to me wearing a strap on rubber dildo.

"Ever seen one of these before?"

She grinned at me as she lovingly smeared some clear lubricant along the black shaft of the false cock and I strained against my restraints. The toy must have cost the bitch a bundle as she held it up to my face. I could clearly make out the veins, the ridges and bumps, and the flared head. She stepped behind me and I felt the tip press against my ass crack. The lubricant was smothered over my anus and then the big head was fed inside my asshole.

"Fuck!"

It hurt like hell to begin with and when she pushed in further tears streamed down my face. She pulled back and then pushed in again even further. The dildo was removed all the way and toyed with my hole. Then she eased back in and waves of uncertain excitement built in me in a way that I had never known. Lucy grabbed my hips and pushed inside me so hard that I felt her hips on my ass! She drove the thing up my butt with long, corkscrew lunges and my erection quivered in an S.O.S.

"How do you like being fucked, Oliver?"

Her hips bumped against me as I was cruelly fucked by the dominatrix and I have to admit I groaned in guilty pleasure. I was given short and quick thrusts as the lewd sound of naked skin on naked skin filled our ears. Her hefty jugs met my back as she leaned in and I screamed into my gag when the cheeky minx bit my shoulder. I must have blacked out or become faint as when I next came to my senses I was spread out naked on a bed on my back, long silken scarves tethered my arms above my head and my feet to the base of the wrought iron bed posts. Pillows under my butt propped my midriff up from the mattress as Lucy came in. I pulled at the scarves but they refused to give. I was completely at the mercy of the sadistic bitch.

'I want you to lick me." She said nonchalantly.

Lucy stood by the side of the bed in the buff. Her mountainous boobs hung on her chest, firmly jutting out proudly and seemingly defying the law of gravity. Not completely naked she wore an elegant pair of armpit length black kid gloves and leather pumps with rapier like heels. She stared at my naked body and watched my chest rise and fall. The harness around my head had been removed and I gave her a mouthful.

"Fuck off lady! You're nuts!"

She gave me a hard slap across the kisser and I was stunned. Another on the other cheek made me see stars. I tried to fight my arousal but it was proving to be a challenge. The dame tripped my trigger in an odd erotic fashion that made me somewhat concerned at my latent masochistic leanings. The sensation of being tied down gave me a quiver of sexual excitement that was entirely new to me. My freed up cock jutted up from my groin, fat and throbbing, as Lucy straddled my face with her head facing my feet, and my aching cock surged again as her slick pussy made contact with my mouth.

"Lick me."

Her knees were placed either side of my chest as my tongue poked out and I worked frantically on her slit as she undulated over me. As she moved to and fro she practically masturbated herself on my tongue and I swiped her from anus to clit. When my wet tongue brushed her erect nub I heard her sigh contentedly. My warm breath and my spit made the hair on her vulva dampen and I flicked on her cunt lips quickly in an attempt to end this madness. My nipples were pinched hard as she bent over and I yearned for her to reach down further and suck my dick. I was by now as hard as a rock as she made tiny circular motions on my face, grinding her clit on my tongue. She tasted wet and salty as my nose pressed between her separated cheeks and met her nether hole.

"Oh! Mmm!"

Lucy jerked suddenly and drove her puckered ring down hard and my nose went right up her greasy channel. My lips continued to lap at her dripping pussy and my cock dribbled like a broken faucet.

"Good boy, good boy. Lick that pussy."

I stopped briefly and heard my jaw click.

"For Pete's sake, give me a break, my cock feels like it's going to explode!"

My whole body screamed for release and I poured with sweat.

"Very well. Brace yourself."

I raised my head and looked in horror as Lucy brought a big ice pack down on my throbbing member and held it there tight.

'FUCK!"

I thought I was going to have a heart attack as I gasped at the sudden application of the freezing pack. Lucy laughed as she lifted it off and saw that my cold prick had shrivelled to the size of my thumb.

"Oh, what a shame, boo hoo! Another time then. Now I'm going to untie you but you shall remain locked in this room."

Lucy undid my left ankle and unravelled the scarf around my right wrist. I scrambled to let my other ties loose but by the time I was on my feet she had left and locked the door. I ran a hand through my lank hair and breathed a big sigh of relief. What a day! I looked around the small windowless room and saw a stack of sandwiches, a pot of coffee and a fresh pack of Camels and a matchbook. I ripped open the seal and lit my first smoke of the day. Within a half hour I had smoked the whole pack and I laid back in my birthday suit and went over the extraordinary events. My poor ass was sore and I laid to one side on the bed. As I pictured Lucy in the high heels and gloves my dick swelled to breath taking proportions and I spanked the monkey until I came in my fist. I turned over and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When I finally awoke the door to the room was open and my suit was laid out, cleaned and pressed. I dressed and felt something new in my breast pocket and pulled out five crisp C notes. I searched the house thoroughly but I was alone. Now seemed a good time to leave so I went outside and drove off back to my office.

X

A week passed and thanks to my new found wealth I was starting to turn down offers of employment. I was sick to the back teeth of divorce cases. All I could think of was Lucy. Lucifer herself. I had jerked off every night thinking of her tits and ass and those long legs that never seemed to quit and my fantasies ran wild.

Then she called. I recognised that honeyed voice immediately as I picked up and I received a Freudian rush to my loins.

"Oh, it's you." I said glibly.

I heard her soft breathing down the phone line and my big toe shot up in my shoe. She had me hook, line and sinker, the witch!

"Have you missed me, Oliver?"

"No." I said abruptly lying through my teeth.

"Okay. I shall hang up."

"Wait!" My heart sank and I actually felt my heart race. Was I cursed by the devil?

"Would you like to see me again?"

"Okay."

"Saturday at eight, my place naturally."

Her breathing became more pronounced and I whipped my old feller out and began to beat the meat. I heard her kiss me through the receiver and then she hung up, just as I sprayed my palm with man juice.