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It had been a delight to design the minutiae of Eleanor’s torture. He had tactfully created her least-favorite type of design for her homestay, the cottage, and included such details to make Eleanor’s time in the Bad Place even more miserable. The couches were the wrong angle to be comfortable, nothing was the correct height for her small frame, and the stairs to her bedroom were hidden with a secret button. Diabolical.
He enjoyed watching her cringe when she saw the clown paintings and glowed when she would use the ice machine that only produced cubed ice instead of crushed.
Unfortunately, after he joined forces with Team Cockroach he couldn’t make the home more comfortable for his new friend. Vicky was still reading the torture reports closely. He did feel bad, but it was also hilarious to watch her roll onto the platform and into her bed. Did he mention that he designed the clown door jingle just for her?
They were in said small cottage chatting about Chidi’s most recent lesson about determinism when she had hit a small button by her side and fell into an even smaller closet. Instinctively, he reached out to grab her and he joined her in what was the smallest possible closet he had ever seen. This was not a feature he had intentionally designed, but he could see the implications for possible frustration.
The closet was no larger than two-feet-wide and two-feet-long. There was only a dim light in the space and at first, his human eyes couldn’t see anything. Eleanor was pressed tightly against the concrete wall furthest from where they entered, while Michael was pressed into her stomach, his arms placed on either side of her head. He felt tense, his whole body in shock, the door behind them had shut as quick as it opened. Bracing his weight in his hands, he tried to avoid contact with her.
“Dude it’s okay, you don’t have to act like touching humans is the worst thing ever.”
If only she knew, he exhaled and settled more comfortably against Eleanor.
He could feel her legs pressed firmly against his own, his hips were pressed firmly into her stomach and his arms for necessity stake were pressed to either side of her face which was inches from resting against his chest. She was the smallest of the humans that he knew, but in this small closet, he could feel the true size difference. It was warm in the room, which he blamed for feeling flushed. Then she wiggled and it sent a wave through his body.
“Sorry, I was getting a cramp. Can I lean on you for a sec?”
He nodded and she pressed her full body weight into him. He could feel her breasts pushing against his chest and her hips jutting into his thigh. Oh, that felt good. He couldn’t breathe, he was too afraid of the consequences of taking up more space and jutting into her.
“Thanks, dude.”
As she pulled back the small millimeter, this allowed him to release the breath he had been holding.
“So, like if we call Janet will she appear in this tight space? Will she be able to help us?”
In the dim closet, he could see her brow pinched. To be honest, he wasn’t sure, Janet was a dimensional being who could present herself in many ways.
“I’m not sure, Janet?”
And they waited for the signature bing.
Nothing.
Eleanor signed in frustration, he imagined that she must feel very uncomfortable pressed tightly against him. Although her in file, he could think of many times Eleanor would hide in broom closets to avoid seeing old coworkers and the dozens of times she had closet sex, typically with the janitor of wherever she worked. The idea of Eleanor pressed against the wall, back pressed against his stomach as he pounded into her made him flush. Thank god, she couldn’t see him.
“Are you okay buddy? You look red.”
Fuck.
“Fine!” He croaked.
He needed to find a way out of this closet ASAP.
“Eleanor, maybe try reaching behind me for a button to open the door. It’s bound to be by the entrance.” She nodded and reached her arms along his torso, brushing against his suit jacket. Never more than in this moment did he regret wearing so many layers of clothing. Between the heat and the gentle touch, he could feel the pooling of blood in his stomach and lower regions.
“I’m not finding anything Mikey, want to try my side?”
He nodded and lowered his arms from beside her head and lowered them to her sides. Now they were basically holding each other as they touched around the small closet. They shifted in hopes that maybe it’d be on the side walls. He heard Eleanor sigh again as she shifted her weight from side to side.
“You can lean on me again if you want.”
No response, but she did rest her forehead on his shoulder blade. It’d be a sweet sign of human affection if they weren’t stuck and he was human.
“Do you think we’ll run out of air?”
“Eleanor, you’re dead remember? You don’t need oxygen.”
“Oh yeah.”
They stood, silent, and he was boiling. His three-piece suit felt like it was made from iron, especially every contact point with Eleanor.
“Why did you make me such a stupid house anyways?”
He debated telling her the whole truth, “You have to realize my intentions were different… And basically, it comes down to you having a Napoleon-complex.”
He could feel her jaw open against his chest. He was ready for the screaming.
“I do not!”
“So, it doesn’t bother you that everyone else in neighborhood has a bigger house then you.”
He could feel her fume.
“Well it’s not working, Mikey! Because the clowns and I are real bros now.”
He smiled, always resilient and willing to fight.
Silent again, he was trying to think of another way to get out of the stupid box closet. Although he had designed most of the neighborhood, he had left inches and small details for Janet to fill. Because obviously he didn’t have time to design every square inch.
“Hey Michael?”
He was pulled out of his thoughts.
“Yes, Eleanor?”
“Are you going to caress my ass the entire time we’re stuck here?”
And he paused. His full body stiffened. He glanced down and sure enough his hand was resting on her hip and his other on the wall space between them, palm facing her, and he was slowly rubbing his fingers, touching her rather intimately.
“I mean I don’t mind, but if you’re going to tease. I expect you to at least deliver.”
802 attempts of torturing her and Eleanor Shellstrop still could put him through hoops.
He cocked his head and realized he had two options, one was to break through the stupid Nordic closet door with his bare hands or fuck Eleanor Shellstrop until she was screaming his name.
“Is that a request?” He said lowering his head, bending his neck so he could whisper in her ear.
“Did I stutter?”
And in an instant, he grabbed her hips and pinned her against the wall, with the newly acquired inches of space, he leaned down and started rage kissing her neck, her cheeks, and eventually her mouth. It was wet and the angle was all wrong, but the blonde must have been enjoying it because her arms and found their way to his shoulders and was holding onto him. Small moans were coming from her mouth as he devoured her.
He didn’t realize it, but he was lifting her inches off the ground, grabbing the ass he had been palming moments ago, he encouraged her to lift her legs and wrap them around his waist. She enthusiastically did so.
He lifted her shirt off, it fell between them and he started to palm at her breasts, her breathing was hard, and he felt truly blessed that he didn’t need to breath or break contact with her body. She was panting and as he jutted his hips into her and against the wall. He could feel his erection throbbing against her. It felt incredible the way he’d rock and she’d squeeze her legs against him every time.
Moving one hand from her body he started to unbutton her pants, the tight space wouldn’t allow for a proper fucking but he could still reach and tease her sensitive clit with his long index finger.
She screamed. What a delightful sound. Determined to make her beg, he started to suck on her neck, on a particularly sore spot as he brushed between her thighs and pulsed against between her lips. He could feel her squeeze and release, waves of pre-orgasm rocking through her body.
“Say my name.”
Her lips were sealed. What a little tease. He kissed the smirk off her face, and they started to deeply kiss, he ran his tongue against her teeth. He desperately wanted to bite down on her lip and make her bleed. But she beat him too it.
Shocked, he picked up the speed of his fingering, pushing her further into the wall until he had enough of an angle to enter her. And when she did, she screamed, “Michael!”
Victory.
He continued the cycle of pressure, sucking, and prodding until she finally orgasmed and collapsed with her weight fully on him.
He felt high. Higher than drinking five cups of antimatter, and much better than torturing her ever felt. She looked up at him, and although he could barely see the blues of her eyes, she looked more vulnerable than he had ever seen her.
She spoke first, “Michael, I”
He wanted to stop her before she ruined everything, like she always did.
“I, uh, that was amazing.”
He flushed.
Still being held against the wall by his body weight she strained her neck and kissed him on the check. He felt like he was glowing.
Before he could close the distance for a proper kiss, he heard a -bing- and a wave of light engulfed the closet.
“Hello Michael, Eleanor! You called for me?”
He closed his eyes, stepped back and Eleanor tumbled to her feet. She was shirtless, her jeans were unbuttoned and was flushed.
Not even taking a beat, Eleanor slid from beside him and back into the living room.
“Nah babe, but thanks for opening the door.”
“Of course!” And she vanished.
Michael turned around, perplexed.
“Well Mikey, are you going to finish the job out here? Much more room out here, with space to stretch. Did I mention I was flexible?”