tagErotic HorrorThe Old King and the New Bride Ch. 02

The Old King and the New Bride Ch. 02


Hello, again! Nice of you to come back! As you can see, I've used the story same title for each chapter of the story. Much easier to find, isn't it? Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed reading about poor Michelle's adventures so far. I know I enjoy writing them (with a little help from my friend, Matt), so take a seat and read on.

Chapter 2: Queen of the Underworld. . . Finally

Dad and I sit in the hard plastic seats of the stadium, cheering the teams on with the rest of the crowd. It's a beautiful October afternoon, and dad's scored some prize tickets to postseason game. It's the Padres versus the Astros, and the Astros are getting crushed. The stadium is huge; it's packed to capacity and people are going nuts over every play. Even the announcer is hyper today.

I've got a hot dog in one hand and a Coke in the other, alternating between watching the game and inhaling my food. Dad's opted for a cold beer and a plate of nachos. We watch the game closely, waiting for that magical moment when the underdog rises from the ashes and dropkicks the winning team.

I love this. It's the only time I get to spend some quality time with my dad. Usually, he's out of town on business, but he makes up for it every month by taking me to games and trying to beat me at air hockey. For a businessman, I've got a freaking awesome dad.

I turn to smile at him. He's beaten me to the punch, grinning at me with his signature smile and warm hazel eyes. My eyes. I smile back through a mouthful of hotdog, excited and relieved to be here. We're alone for a few precious hours. Just us and the teams fighting for our attention. It's a rare treat.

There's a crack down in the field. As we've guessed, the Astros are starting to gain ground. It's only the sixth inning. They still have time to catch up...

Cool fingers brush my shoulder. Warm breath tickles my ear.


Dad's phone goes off. Hi's smile fades and he rolls his eyes as his fishes his blackberry from his pocket. His infamous scowl has arrived as he answers the phone.

"Yes?" He pauses. "Hello, honey."

I drop my head and scowl at the dirty stadium floor. Of course it's mom. Who else would call at four in the afternoon because she's feeling lonely? God, she's so needy! I'm surprised that she's even able to watch us walk out the door before having another false alarm.

"Yes, yes I know." Dad's as irritated as I am. "Lisa, we've talked about this. Michelle and I have one day a week where we get to hang out together. We'll be home in a couple of hours."

I set my food aside and cup my chin in my hands. I love my mom, I really do. I mean, she's my mom. But she has a fantastic ability to ruin every single good time I'm having with my dad. Today's interruption is especially irritating: dad's just come home from a business meeting in Boston, and it's our first father-daughter quality time in two months.

"Lisa, please calm down. This is a tradition we've had for years. Please don't ruin it for us."

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice dad has caught sight of me. He's seen my scowl, my eyes. He knows how upset I am. He's been dealing with mom's behavior since long before I was born. How he stands it, I'll never know.

Dada takes in a deep breath. "Lisa, I'm sorry! I'm not going to rush home and waste time I could be spending with our daughter on another one of your panic attacks. We'll see you at home!"

He disconnects the call and shuts his phone off, grinning at me. I'm smiling so wide my face should be splitting in two. He's managed to grow his spine back and shut mom's neediness down for the moment. I'm elated.

"What did she want?" I can't help but be curious.

He shrugs. "She said Mrs. Hoppen was harassing her again. Wanted me to come down and talk to the old lady."

I roll my eyes. "She does know that if she'd stop stealing all of her tomatoes, Mrs. Hoppen would stop complaining."

Dad gives a wicked smile. "Somehow, I don't think she cares."


The fingers become more insistent, traveling down my shoulder and spinning teasing circles around my breasts. I groan and shift slightly, rolling onto my stomach so I can dream in peace.

There's another crack of the bat. The batter goes flying down the line, racing past the first baseman and rounding the corner to second.

"Why do you think-"

"Your mother complains about fighting with neighbors when she's the one who starts them? No idea, kiddo." Dad sighs and picks up another nacho. "It's something about your mother that's driven me nuts for years."

"Then why don't you get divorced?" The question comes out before I can stop myself. I'm horrified, and I clap my hand over my mouth and hang my head.

Dad's silent for a moment. "Is that what you want, Michelle?"

I'm almost in tears. "No. I'm sorry, I-"I can't even finish. I'm grounded for sure.

"Hey," Dad loops his arm over my shoulder. "It's okay, kiddo. I know what you're thinking."

"Michelle." Those cool hands slide under my body and cup my breasts gently.

I groan softly. "What?"

Icy lips press against my neck. "Time to get up, my queen."

I groan louder and bury my face in the pillow. "Why? It's only eight."

Musical laughter echoes in my ears, wrapping around my mind and caressing it awake. "You only wish. It's nearly ten."

Ten? Shit.

Another chilled kiss brings me further into the waking world. "Believe me, I'd love to stay here in bed with you, my dear. But there are things that need to get done. The faster you get up, the faster we can do them, and the faster we can go beck to bed."

I give a muffled sigh. "Fine."

I roll over and push the thick blankets off my body. My body's still groggy, so my motions are slow and jerky. Still, I manage to wriggle out of my husband's enticing embrace and push myself up. I roll my neck, setting my vertebrae back into place.

I feel the bed shift behind me. Seconds later, Lucifer walks into my line of sight, smiling at me with bright eyes. I'm still slightly stunned by him; I don't think I'll ever get used to how he looks. He's just as beautiful as he was yesterday, all chiseled perfection and glowing splendor. I could be married to him for a thousand years and never stop being entranced by him.

"Let's get you dressed."

He walks over to an enormous carved oak armoire that's been pressed up against the far wall. He grips the twisted iron handles and flings the massive doors open, revealing endless racks of clothing inside. A menagerie of dresses and corsets line the inside, all of it silk, lace and leather. Fit for a queen of the damned, I suppose.

Lucifer starts rummaging through the forest of clothing, tossing elaborately tailored gowns and perfectly acceptable corsets aside. I sigh and push myself off the bed. He's never had a queen before, maybe not even a girlfriend, so having him dress me will most likely end in disaster. I need to intervene before he tries to clothe me like a cheap hooker. Or worse.

I slip off the bed and step lightly onto the tile floor. I take one step towards him and wince in pain. Fuck, I'm sore! All that magnificent sex last night rendered my body almost useless. Who knew losing your virginity like that could be so painful later? I bite my lip and straighten my spine. I have to fight through this. If I don't, my clothing choices will be reduced to nothing.

I take one tentative step after another, slowly but surely closing the distance between us. Finally, after many aching minutes, I stand just behind him, watching as he tosses more inadequate clothing aside. His wings shift slightly with every twist and turn of his shoulders, the muscles of his back flexing gloriously as he seeks out my attire for the day. A small spark ignites in my belly, and I have to clamp down on my cheek to stifle the burn.

Easy, tiger. Have patience.

"What are you looking for exactly?" I scan the growing piles of discarded clothing. "You're rejecting a lot of stuff."

He still, and turns to look at me. "Some thing appropriate for a queen."

I glance back at the piles of luxurious fabrics. "There's a lot here that could fall into that category."

He glances down and grimaces. "Not what I'm looking for."

I sigh. "Here, then. Let me help."

Nodding, he steps aside. I step forward, wincing as I do, and start sifting through the remaining racks of clothing.

"Sore?" he chimes in my ear.

I huff slightly. "No thanks to you," I tease.

One cold palm caresses my ass, making me jump then shiver.

"Careful," he whispers. "I'll put you in much more discomfort if you cop and attitude."

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Attitude. I think you could out-attitude me every single day."

He smacks my ass, making me jump again. "True, but still uncalled for."

I reach down and brush his hand away. If I'm going to be dressed up as his queen, I need to concentrate. I'll never find suitable clothing with him teasing me constantly. "What exactly did you have in mind for me today?"

He pauses, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Something that's regal, yet seductive. You need to be respected, but I still want to see you."

"Regal yet seductive..." I mumble to myself as I rummage through the racks. "Quite an interesting order to fill."

"I don't care what it is or how it looks, really." He steps behind me, reaches around my waist and cups my breasts again. "I just want to make sure these are put on display."

I have to stop and catch my breath. His touch is icy, but far more seductive than any contact I've ever felt. I shake my head to clear it of all the delicious memories of last night. I can think about those later. Right now, I need to focus. I take another deep breath and dive back into the sea of clothing.

Okay, so he wants a queen who's also eye-candy. Let's see...

"Do you have a color preference?"

He pauses again. "Nothing to bright or cheerful. You're the queen of the underworld. There's not much to celebrate here."

"Okay. That eliminates anything yellow, green or orange." I start pushing anything that's light and cheerfully colored aside. "Anything else?"

"Black and red, mostly. We are in the darker part of the world."

I nod. "Any clothing type you're looking for? Dress? Corset?"

I feel him shrug behind me. "Don't care. As long as I have a fair view of your tits, I'm happy."

Well, at least he's direct.

I sift through the racks again, feeling as if we're getting nowhere. There's tons of beautiful stuff here, but nothing that fills his requirements. I sigh and start preparing to let him have a shot. I stop suddenly when my eye catches something in the back. Curious, I reach into the racks to get a better view of my score.

What I pull out is incredible. It's a floor-length ebony silk ball gown with red lace panels at the sides and black lace bell sleeves. The dress is nearly backless except for a few corset-style lacings of red velvet that weave through small silver hoops. The front is cut deep, the opening spearing nearly half way down the bodice. Along both sides of the cut are several silver grommets held together with slender chains. It's a beautiful piece, with just the amount of sex appeal he's looking for.


I squirm out of his embrace for a second time and spin around so he can see my find. "How's this?"

His gold eyes widen an inch, and a sly smile crossed his perfect lips. "Where was that when I was in there?"

"In the back," I shrug.

His smile widens another inch. "Yes, that will do perfectly."

I give him a sarcastic half-smile. "Only because my boobs will be spilling out."

"Indeed." He's grinning now. "Shall we get you dressed?"

I raise one eyebrow. "I have a choice?"

He smiles. "The easy way or the hard way."

"Easy." I don't even want to think of what the hard way might entail.

He reaches forward and grabs the dress from my hands, and I watch as he methodically unties the velvet laces in the back. A second later, he holds the dress out for me, opening the back and lowering it so I can step in. It looks like a tight fit, so I grip the edge of the armoire to steady myself as I slide one leg, then the other, in. He carefully pulls it up my body, pausing so I can slip my arms in the sleeves.

Another gentle tug and I'm nearly dressed. I hold the front of the dress to my chest as Lucifer steps around behind me to tie the back. There's quite a few silver hoops to be threaded, so I have to stand perfectly still for longer than I'd hoped.

It doesn't take too long, though. He pulls the ribbons through the last hoop and ties the off, tapping my shoulder to let me know he's finished. I drop my hands and spin around once. The skirt of the dress flares out a bit as I twirl, making me feel like a little girl again. Lucifer is grinning at me, though I'm sure it has to do more with the amount of cleavage showing than my childish freedom.

"Would you like to see?" he asks.

I nod, and he grips my hand and leads me to an enormous freestanding mirror framed by dark carved wood. He gently ushers me forward so I can see myself as a queen for the first time.

The woman in the mirror looks like me, but she's far too regal looking to actually be me. Her dress is perfectly fitted, hugging her every curve to perfection. The deep cut in the front of the dress barley contains her enormous chest, but the slender silver chains that hold the front together help a bit. Her soft hazel eyes are offset by the blacks and reds of the dress, her dark curls almost blending in with the fabrics.

Damn...I look good!

Lucifer steps up behind me and loops his arms around my waist. He pulls me back against him, pressing his cold chest against my bare shoulder blades. His lips caress my neck as he stares at me in the mirror.

"You look delicious," he whispers against my neck.

I tremble from his touch, but manage to regain my balance. "Thank you." I glance down at his ripped jeans, the only clothing he's wearing. "Nice of you to dress up."

He scowls softly at me in the mirror. "These are my good jeans."

I raise my brows. "Your good jeans?"

He shoots me a triumphant smile. "You should see my bad ones."

"No. I'm scared." I'm just barely able to hold back my smile.

He gives me a playful jerk against the waist. "I'll show you another time. Right now, we have to get going."

"Oh? And where are we off to?" I tease back and rock my hips so they grind against his abdomen.

He laughs softly in my ear. "No teasing. We have work to do."

His restriction prompts me to play. I swing my hips once more, savoring his soft groan. "Why not?"

"Because I'll toss you onto that bed, fuck you till you stop breathing, and ruin your dress." His voice is low, threatening yet irresistibly seductive.

Not a bad proposal...

He pulls away from me, cutting off my blossoming sexual fantasies. He is right, though. He's the king of Hell, so there must be tons of mundane things he has to do. Maybe the fuck-you-till-you-can't-breathe part should be saved for a later time.

His icy hand grips mine, gently tearing me away from the mirror, he leads me toward the elaborately carved door, opening it with so much grace and ease it almost seems impossible. He steps back, allowing me to pass through before him. He follows closely behind me, slamming the door closed behind us.

The monstrous hall is as empty as before. It's lighter now, with rays of warm sunlight pouring in from the glass panel ceiling. The flames in the sconces have been extinguished, and the arctic wind that usually owl through here have lessened a bit.

Lucifer steps up to me, then proceeds to lead me down the hallway.

"Where are we going exactly?" I ask distractedly.

"The main foyer. It's where all the important stuff happens."

I nod. "I didn't know there was so much bureaucracy here. I thought you died, got sentenced, and burned."

He laughs. "Well, yes. That's the main basis of things, but there is a form of paperwork. We have to keep track of who people are, why they're here, where they go. The usual read tape."

"You also seem very...diplomatic," I say quietly.

He turns to me cocking his head. "Me diplomatic? How so?"

"Well," I start, "I haven't seen you fly off then handle or incinerate anyone yet."

A dark smile crosses his lips. "Yet."

Well, he's got a point there.

"So what's on the schedule for today?" I try to divert his mind elsewhere.

"A whole list of things. I've got deals to make, meeting with royalty to arrange... And then there's your presentation."

Shit, I'd forgotten about that. Tonight is my official indoctrination into my place as Hell's queen. I'll be watched by every demon, damned soul and fallen angel in this place. My gut twists slightly, and I start praying to myself that I don't royally screw it up.

"Deals?" I ask.

He nods. "Yep. That's where we're heading right now, there's a group of human here to see me and possibly sell their soul in exchange for my word."

I glance up at him. "So, who are these people?"

He sighs. "They're everyone. Princes, farmers, popes, peasants. I get a different mix every day."

"And what do you do with them?"

"Deals, mostly. Though I'll admit, the exchange rate isn't too good here." He offers sly smile.

I scoff. "Oh, yes. A marriage into the royal family in exchange for three hundred years of servitude or your daughter. That sounds like a wonderful bargain."

"She'll pay her debt sooner than you think." His voice is low, and there's a wicked gleam in his eye.

I nod. "The demons who came to collect me said she wasn't getting off so easily."

He shakes his head. "She isn't. The deal is in her name, not yours, so she still has to pay despite your welcome substitution."

"Why do you do that? Make people do stuff like what my mother did? Is it a rush?" I ask as calmly as I can. It seems so vicious to trick people into paying off a debt they can't afford.

"No, it's not exciting for me. It's the way of the world. People will always sacrifice one thing for something else. They just need to have the right circumstances." He shrugs his muscular shoulders. "I don't make people do what they do. I just give them the opportunity to do it. And then I run them through the ringer for it."

I short softly. "You're awful."

He gives me a wicked grin. "It's who I am and what I do."

The end of the hallway comes quicker than I'd thought. Just a few feet ahead of us, two massive twin doors signal the entrance to they foyer. They're nearly thirty feet high and elaborately carved with more dancing demons and screaming souls. There are gems and thick bands of silver and gold imbedded into these doors, giving them a more regal presence that the ones in the hallway.

As we approach the, they swing open, welcoming us with open arms to the main meeting area. Already, I can hear the thunder of demonic voices and the tinkle of succubae laughter. I'm nervous about going inside, frightened that one of these hellions won't approve and attack me for being a human. I slow my pace a bit, trying to prolong the inevitable, but Lucifer presses a hand to my back and urges me forward through the doors.

We're greeted by a mass of demons milling about the colossal room. Each wall is nearly a hundred feet long and set with huge slabs of veined marble. More Greek columns extend up towards a plate-glass ceiling that lets in rays of warm sunlight. An enormous set of carved granite stairs stretches across the back wall. Two carved stone and iron thrones await us at their peak.

It's very much like the great halls of the kings of old, but much more sinister.

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