The Magazine (18+) ✯ Michael Jackson

5: Under the Desk

Oddly enough, I missed Beelzebub. Well, not him, per se, but the dick he was providing. I'm ashamed to admit last night's sex was all I thought about. I could hardly concentrate on writing my column because I'd start to fantasize about it. At the same time, I was also disgusted by the entire ordeal. I fear I've lost my morals.

In the evening, Beelzebub decided to rise from the deepest of hell to visit me at my office. "Just wanted to see how you were doing. No banter."

"Why?"

Michael moved my hair from my shoulder and placed his hand on my chin to inspect my neck. "I was quite rough with you last night."

I smacked his hand away. "So?"

"So, I want to make sure you are alright. Aftercare is important after sex, especially when it's as rough as that. I'm not going to just smack and fuck you senseless then leave. It's a dom's role to make sure you are alright and help you feel better afterward. You scurried away after sex before I could."

Even if I was still turned on by last night, I didn't want to talk about it with him. It made me feel even more shame. I tried to shoo him away. "Well, you don't need to do that. It was risk-aware consensual, Michael."

"Just because you consented doesn't mean you can't tell me how you feel. That's not how it works. Yes, you were aware that I could've pushed you past your limit, but you can tell me how I made you feel afterward. So, tell me. Are you okay?"

Michael had slight worry in his eyes. He genuinely was concerned for me. I was surprised. I didn't think he could care about anyone but himself.

"It's fine, Michael. You didn't do anything I didn't like." I said. "So, a dom does aftercare. Is that what you are, then? Is that why you know about all of these kinks?"

"I have been, yes." He smiled. "Because I own you, you appear to be my submissive. Or pet. Whichever term makes you most comfortable."

Pet? Has be lost his damn mind? "Let's get one thing straight: you do not own me and last night is the last time we will ever have sex. After I submit my next two columns, I'm resigning."

"Oh? Finally pursuing a career as a fashion designer?"

"No." I quickly said. "Maybe. I don't know."

"As far as I can tell, fashion designing is what you are destined for. Even you know that. Everyone is obsessed with your dress. It's all they're talking about. You should be working on a fashion collection to receive the praise you deserve. You're too talented not to."

I heavily sighed. "Please, Michael. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm busy with my column."

"Alright, then." Michael said then threw the draft on my desk. He stepped in so close that there was a few inches between us. "We don't have to talk." He said, mint breath fanning against my lips. "There's much more I have in mind."

"Like?"

He sported a half-smile. "Just one thing."

Michael leaned in and interlocked his lips with mine. It was gentler than the one from last night. I could focus on the plushness as they moved with mine. But the kiss didn't last long. He pulled away and gave me another smile.