#atmon

The only question was what Atmon was going to be… would hey clash badly?

There two ways it could go, really.

Wither he trumped up the sexiness and would draw the eyes of the whole party… or he would become a cheese… and possibly literally dress as a cheese. Or maybe a chicken nugget. Made of real chicken nugget.

They would have food all night and already with them, very practical reall-

Suddenly, her hair stood. There was a movement behind her and it was all dark and shadows and then it thundered and teeth sunk into her neck and… she shrieked and slapped him across the face.

Which… ended with Kitty pressed against a mirror and her boyfriend in front of her, holding his cheek.

Looking at him, he had decided for the first option, because damn he was on point.

Black coast over his immaculate vest and cravat… most definitely form fitting pants. A shame the coat blocks the sight.

Hah. Even his ears were the original pointy form.

Earrings in place… his dark skin beautifully complimenting the whole outfit… and his hair looked especially soft today.

When she finally saw the accusatory look, and the teeth, she shrugged: “Alriiiight, then I am the edible one”

She pressed a kiss to his nose: “You look gorgeous now lets go!”

She would make a good vampire victim, especially with the white pants.

But he didn’t, he let her warm herself on his skin, let her take a rest, a moment she didn’t need to put her guard up.

A little tug let them both fall in her direction, landing on soft fabric, surrounded by flames and crystals. A warm haven in an ice hell.

Taking it slow for once, she pulled him down for more kisses, caress his arms, tracing his neck-muscles, while receiving the same treatment in return. She actually shuddered.

And he chuckled: “That gets you all weak, mh?”

“Mmmmh, maybe if it’s you,” she nibbled at his shoulder while he grinned and tore the rips in her clothes wider, kissing her pale breast.

“Maybe because you are human,” she rubbed the pointed tip of his ear, proof that he really was not entirely.

And he said so as well, stopping in his tracks: “I… am not. Certainly not. There is nothing left. I am made of nothing but slime”

Her smile widened: “Oh, there is so much more to humans than a mere body…”

With a raised brow, he looked at her hands, pointedly: “You seem to be quite interested in it”

“Mmh, yeah,” her tail ran down his spine, causing an involuntary shudder, “… but you learn so fast… much faster than I ever did. Like it means something. Time”

A concept quite alien to their immortal forms.

Atmon only looked flatly at her, still remarkably stiff – maybe not his favourite theme?

She tried to soften him with more soft kisses. Exploring his body, hands all over. And he did return to his own careful exploration, sucking in a nipple, teasing her sides…

“There really is something to explore with you, all imperfect” Another wrong thing to say, he looked affronted.

Leviathan pulled him closer again: “It’s good. You are… you remember being alive. With all those… those weaknesses and cuts and bruises and healed and broken bones”

He still had those, inside, old memories of old wounds. Untold stories, all laid out and meaning something. For most demons bodies were more or less…  an afterthought.

This time, he bit into her shoulder, and she twitched: “I’m not the only one with bruises”

And… yes… he… had actually gotten her, there.

Really fast learner.

Folding her legs behind his legs, she pulled him down completely, drawing patterns on his back or arm while the kissing continued, sometimes little pecks, sometimes long, wet kisses.

This day, he indulged her. And she got to relax and just feel him all around, living skin and breath and teeth and everything.

Clothes disappeared with scratched skin and open mouthed kisses all over the other’s body, naked skin pleasant to be felt, he even seemed to like her slightly cooler skin, played with her hair, nibbled her throat.

They fell into one another at one point, when heat had pooled into their lower regions, enough to be too distracting not to do something about it.

The following orgasm was… prolonged. Slow and lazy and unfocused, leaving shudders and warmth and tingly limbs.

He didn’t seem to be much better off.

Just bodies being… done for the time.

His last kiss found her bruise, before he slept in.

Just like that.

She rolled up against him and did the same.

It was a strange, but good day.

She had acknowledged it. Complimented it, even. His whole human side. A strength and a weakness, Leviathan had said.

Atmon had frowned, said there was nothing left of the human, his body was nothing but demonic energy strung together. And she had laughed and put her tail through his heart.

He had stopped moving at that, and coughed, almost blacked out. And she walked away with a chuckle, cutting the lesson short.

For a bit, he had been grumpy. But he could not very well change his teacher. Not before he couldn’t beat her.

And he had gotten better. A lot better. Only short commands are needed to adjust for stance or angle. She brought a different style up almost every time. And he could learn. Of course, only the physical, but he could learn.

And sometimes. Sometimes, she was a spectacle to watch.

Her eyes glinting, reflecting the ice around, grin sharp with teeth, hitting him harder, faster.

He could block it by now, each kick thrown at him, from angles that feel wrong, he had learned to trust his instincts, but she was upping the ante.

She was using weight, strength he could not possess, breaking the block, breaking his skin with pressure only, blood dripping.

But she continued, watched how he improved, how he managed – or didn’t manage -, saw his blood sly, saw him get disoriented.

It happened the most when it was closest to her own way of fighting, all fluid motions, never stopping, always changing, that she lost herself a bit in it, and the blood went with her, floating around her, with the movements. It was a swirl of tiny red pearls around, without her even noticing.

He could see it whenever he couldn’t keep up anymore, when it was too much, when he almost collapsed. And the edge of her and stopped right before his throat, the red splattering on her.

Likely, she didn’t even notice.

But she grabbed his arm with the other hand, pulled him close, kissed him, slowly, carefully, only licking at his lips to ask for entrance. Leaving it be when denied. (sharp teeth)

And then… walked away, waving, clothes half-torn from friction.

He was not sure how he felt… about this.

The blood stains and injuries were gone.

… but he still went to his private rooms. For a break. Yes.

 Many colleagues and campus friends… exes… work colleagues… a few musicians… his dealers…

He frowned and swiped back up to ‘cake girl’.

‘Raphaelle Israfil’ was written underneath.

Mh.

That certainly would be a physical activity. Would help with the boredom, too.

“Hi, you gave me your number after we had, hot, fast, awesome sex in your lab break room. You had cheesecake. Care for a control test?”

He hit ‘send’

When he wanted to send a selfie after it, he accidentally accepted her call: “Heya, stranger. Controls are always great. For the cake or the sex?”

His brows went up, glad he hadn’t sent this particular cake-pic: “I would categorise myself as a beefcake, but yes, I mean the latter,” there was a bit of silence on the other end, so he added: “We can also talk about the former”

Something clattered, then she sounded more in the moment: “Well, for repeat performances I demand a name”

“Sure. It’s Atmon. So, do you have time?”

Another bout of silence.

Another clatter and a groan, then: “Mmmh, about four hours? You know where my break room is”

Now his side was silent for a moment. She was… really forward…

And then she hung up.

Huh.

Well, four hours it is.

And it would take half an hour alone to get there.

Okay. Lets go then!

  After a bit of looking – on the way from the canteen last time he had been a bit… distracted – he found the lab and knocked.

Inside was light and movement, so after a minute… he opened the door.

He found the scientist he was looking for.

She was muttering about and sorted things from one side to the other. There were many petri dishes with colourful stuff inside. There were letters and numbers written on them.

Under a safety work bench were more dishes with… things growing inside.

And here he considered that maybe his plan was… not… the wisest, seeing she is a scientist and-

“THERE you are!” She looked him up and down. “Nice. It’s you” She made a photo: “Lets get to it, then, shall we?”

And she grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the break-room, after switching off the flames.

After she opened the door, Atmon… hesitated.

“What is it?” She asked, buttons of her labcoat already open, giving free view of her… underwear, apparently. Huh.

“What… happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, yes?” He fretted a little.

And she tilted her head: “Dark secrets, mh? Terrible things you don’t want anyone to know?”

He wrinkled his nose: “… a little bit?”

“Well then. I swear: What happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom” she said and pulled him into the room and against her body, skin against his still clothed body. He felt very overdressed very fast.

She already worked on it, though. ‘Dark secrets’ seemed to be no deterrent. His shirt was opened in record time and hands splayed on his chest, placing kisses and bites on the skin.

Her leg hooked around his to pull him closer more effectively.

Recovering from the sudden agreement, she got lifted with a lower arm under her butt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and happily wrapped her legs around him. The kiss continued unbroken.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He carried her over from the door to the bed, while she bit his jaw. “Ow!”

“Careful, mister booty call, no judging in here!” She still peppered kisses to his throat and jawline.

His smile grew wider: “I’ll take you up on that”

While kissing her and moving a hand inside her bra, leaning over her, more of his appendages moved over her body. Into the sleeves of her labcoat and to her wrists, down her ankles, feeling all around them, delicate bones that they are.

And her eyes flipped open, staring left and right to where two of his tentacles were in the process of wrapping around her wrists. Even splitting up and moving between her fingers. She looked at him slightly alarmed.

“Oh, they are just… a bit of extra fun”

When another one slithered below and into her bra, upwards to her mouth, she raised a brow at him.

Without breaking eye contact, she first licked the tip, then took it into her mouth, deep into her mouth, and Atmon shuddered. Her tongue was… agile, to say the least.

She very slowly released him, smiling broadly while her bobs trapped the lower part of the tentacle, and said: “We will have a lot of fun with these”

And Atmon had to agree. Latest when four appendages held her down, one got almost swallowed in her throat, one found her ass and his dick was buried deep inside of her, deep enough to feel the other tentacle working.

It… it was an afternoon well spend.

But that was the only information he got provided. The Metatron therefore needed to go on the information in front of him. And that was… contradictory, to say the least.

The eyes were a light green, indicating water. But a tanned, soft-looking skin that went in a firey direction. They spoke with a bit of gravitas, that might go in an earth direction… but had a bubbly smile like an air-element-related demon.

It was somewhat confusing. The fact that she solved none of the challenges with the help of any element-related abilities was… also inconclusive. He had heard of people with more than one elemental ability. So maybe this blonde – another air-hint, but easily changed – being simply commanded more than one.

She… was very bouncy. And he could swear the robe got shorter. Only to look and see it exactly as long as it was in the beginning of the maze of challenges, just over her knees.

So, he played checkers. He bet on dice. He remembered people from the 50 he saw before. Knots were tied, stones were stacked, blue prints were evaluated.

It was an evaluation of his skills and patience just like every time he was in hell. The guide – and rival - always at his side and present. It was only right to put an arm around her. She only wanted his best, after all.

Also by providing proper challenges during the challenges. Sometimes beating him, sometimes coming to a draw. Simply by accepting his arguments – after all, judging flower arrangements is not an objective task.

Giving out robes that went down to mid-thigh was objectively still the normal robe-cut for all demons, but subjectively, it was somewhat… too interesting.

Even longer than the time he lost his penis.

But… really, he could simply regrow it, could he not?

It did feel good, to feel his manhood again. There was a familiarity to it he had missed.

A bit of familiarity was good in the tunnels of hell.

Reassuring.

Catching butterflies afterwards was not the worst task – even if she won -, cooking a satisfying meal got him some more points… he did sleep in faster than her and they both finished their puzzles at the same time. He might have been faster if her robe would cover her ass a little bit better. But what could one do about hellish standards.

The next task… was a game called ‘Twister’. Twisting their bodies to put respective hands or feet on coloured points on a mat. It was somewhat strange. And, soon enough, they hindered themselves from moving like they are supposed to.

Metatron faced the ceiling, holding himself up by arms and feet on bent knees… a little unstable, but he had landed like this. She held herself up over him, apologising to him for the invasion of space, but she could hardly do it differently, he reassured her it was fine.

But with the next colour – his – he tried to move over from one side of the board to the other and… fell, taking her with him.

And she did fall on top of him, bum in the air.

“I… do have to say you lost balance first,” she said, pushing herself up to look at him.

He brushed the fluffy pigtail out of her face, cradling her cheek: “It’s fine, a little time to lose is not the worst”

She smiled at him… and lowered her hips to his, settling carefully with a wriggle: “Mmmmh, we… do have a bit of… time to spend… yes?”

There was something he should remember, there. Something in the back of his head. He frowned.

‘Kitty’ took his hand and slipped it in her robe, cupping her round, heavy breast.

He squeezed, almost involuntarily.

“Mmmmnnnnnh…” She wriggled a little more, biting her lower lip, “I think we have both an idea… how to spend the time?”

His other hand wandered to the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss.

It was a soft, almost reverent process. Him exploring her body with his hands and mouth, slowly dropping belts and robes on both sides. She giggled at the sash and put it over her otherwise completely nude body, letting it fall over her breasts and hips and wriggling onto him with a regal air around her.

It should remind him of something. He was sure the sash was important. But her boobs rested on his chest and a tight, warm moistness surrounded his member and her mouth alternated between compliments and kisses to and for his skin.

Rolling hips certainly helped distracting him as well.

His hands were all over her, somewhat puzzled by his white on her tanned skin, enjoying the softness of her skin, the give of her flesh when he squeezed her breast, squeezed her ass. So supple and tender.

It did not take long.

It did not take long at all.

They both came, even with only slow movements and ministrations.

It was enjoyable and satisfying and took a long time to ebb, limbs strangely shivery and tense, while they both kissed.

“That… that was very nice,” she said, half lidded eyes looking at him.

And he hummed in agreement, idly drawing patterns on her back.

They both deserved a nap. And if they overslept, it was not the worst in the world either.

More relaxed than he had felt for a long time, he finished the labyrinth, both not in their top form, but more easily accepting defeat. It was a nice, flowing process.

And then, he stepped out of the labyrinth.

Remembering… everything. He had slept with a demon. He had ignored an order from HER, he had been messed with.

And Kitty – most definitely an air demon – looked back at him apologetically: “Thank you”

… and now… he had to… face heaven.

… shit.