Loving Michael Pt. 01

"Yes, it's here in your files. But I don't know much else, I'm afraid." I told him.

Leaning his face against the mic, he sighed. It was loud and heavy and muffled. "I haven't heard my own name in so long." He told me.

"That must be awful." I replied, and I genuinely meant it. Somehow, when I'd thought this subject was less than human I could distance myself easily. Now that I knew it was the human I spoke to, and it was the human in the cell, I pitied him. Still, he had become infected with a cannibalistic symbiote, and devoured people without provocation. He needed to be contained for the safety of the public. Not just him, but all twelve of the afflicted symbiotes.

"Why are you talking to me?" Michael asked suddenly.

"The rules were very clear that I wasn't to provoke you with auditory stimulus. And," I chuckled softly. "It's a terrible hour to wake someone up just to speak to them."

"What time is it?" He asked me.

I checked my phone. Shit. "It's 4 AM." I replied, and I remembered that I hadn't sent in my report. Double shit. "Oh, no. I've forgotten to do some paperwork." I sighed, rubbing my eyes. At this rate, I wouldn't get fired for riling up a man-eating alien monster, I'd get canned for not doing my god damned checklists.

"Paperwork." He laughed, the sound mangled in his throat. "How odd. I remember doing that, a very long time ago."

Scribbling down notes on my papers, I made things up as I went. Status of the subject? Uh. I glanced at him where he stood, listening intently, very close to the camera, and wrote 'asleep.' "You used to do paperwork?" I asked him, intrigued by this.

"Yes," He replied. "When I was still human."

My hand froze. "You are still human." I reminded him.

"You think so?" He asked me quietly.

"You seem very human to me." I shrugged. He could talk, and he had very obvious emotions. If he could ponder the morality of his uncontrollable appetite for his own kind, I'd say he was definitely still in there and very much a human.

"You are very kind, Charlotte." Michael told me. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I was touched. Why did such a genuinely good man have to become the host for such a gnarly alien parasite? He inhaled suddenly and gave a soft sigh. Something moved on another screen and I saw his tails flick. Something thick emerged from between his legs. Fluid slowly drooled from the fist-sized tip and pooled on the ground at his claws. My cheeks burned bright, cherry red.

"Forgive me. There are...many things about this body I cannot control." He sighed, sitting on the ground and laying down almost like a scolded dog.

"I-it's fine. Really, it's sort of like...the best compliment a man could give me." I assured him, which was half-true. Sometimes. Any other man, I would've made him eat his teeth. The big, scary, alien symbiote guy? He could get away with flashing me.

"Please don't lie to me." Michael said abruptly. "Ever. I can hear it in your voice and, were you here with me," His cock twitched and swelled as he said that. I gulped when I noticed it. "I would smell the dishonesty on you."

"Well, I suppose what I meant to say was...it was a compliment only because it is you." I explained, scratching my head. Damn, I was an idiot. What did I even mean by that?

Michael didn't seem to understand me, either, nor did he buy what I was selling. "You've just met me. How could it be a compliment?" He asked.

God, how could I answer that? You're scary in a hot way? It'd never work. Even I didn't buy that one. I have daddy issues and it's hot when a guy is nice to me even remotely? No, bringing up therapy stuff in the first conversation was always awkward. "Probably because, well, with you it's a different set of circumstances. Anyone else, I'd feel threatened. With you, it feels almost...ah, reassuring?" I tried, though it sounded more like I was asking him than telling him. "Ack. I'm sorry. Look, just forget I said anything, okay?" I was digging my hole deeper and deeper every time I opened my big, dumb mouth.

"Are you upset?" He asked me.

"What?" My brow crinkled. "No, I'm not upset. Why would I be? I-I thought you were upset!" I laughed, the joyous feeling bubbling up in my lungs and erupting from me suddenly. Why was I giggling like this? What the hell was wrong with me!

"Charlotte," Michael's voice sobered me slightly, though my smile remained and the apples of my cheeks still burned pink with the warmth of that sudden laughter. "Do I affect you the same way?" He asked me, voice soft.

My thighs squeezed together. Jesus Christ. "Um," I looked away from him and tried to focus. This was so unprofessional. It was wrong. He was an alien symbiote cannibal. This was not some weird internet fan-fiction about face-huggers or something, it was real life. "Wow! It is late, and you should get some sleep. I should get this paperwork turned in before they notice--"

"Charlotte." Michael interrupted me.

"--because it'll be my job if I don't finish it, and it's already late. Gosh, I am just so behind. Uh. W-we could talk later, when I have some free time, y'know." I brushed my hair back and laughed almost hysterically. I was not wet for this guy. There was no way.

"Please don't ignore me." He pleaded. "I won't be upset if you say no, I just need to know."

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I waited until the shiver of anxiety rattled my bones and then I opened my eyes. He was near the camera, again. That enormous cock was still out, half-hard, and hanging over a puddle of slick fluids.

"Michael, we've just met. You're...and I'm...we're not...ugh." I tugged on my ponytail.

"I see." He said softly.

"It's just, even if I did feel that way, there's no way I'd ever get close to you." I reminded him.

He sucked in a sharp breath and one of his forelegs clutched his chest. "I see." He repeated, and it sounded broken this time.

Watching him process my response, I realized I was making this all so much worse. "B-because of the doors! Not that I wouldn't want to. If it was safe, of course I'd love to--"

"Stop lying!" Michael snapped, his claws digging into the metal floor and making an awful sound that cut through me. A ferocious, chilling snarl accentuated the exclamation and I felt awful. Why was I so bad at talking to...anyone? Even those who hadn't had human contact in years found me unbearable. "I told you not to lie to me." He reminded me.

"Okay," I said. "No lies. I can't answer your question. If I do, I'm scared of the consequences, either way. So, for now...can we save that question for later, and still be friends?" I asked. God, I was reasoning with him? Wasn't I technically in control, here?

"Friends?" He asked.

"Yes," I nodded. "We can talk and be friendly, but about things other than...that."

For a moment, he considered this silently. "I would like that." He finally told me.

"Good. Now, I really have to do this paperwork." I told him. "I'll be busy for a while."

"As will I." He admitted, hand gripping his cock and stroking it slowly. As I watched, my face heating up, he groaned as it spasmed and swelled to a ridiculous girth. "Forgive me. It doesn't go down on it's own, anymore." He admitted through soft, panting breaths, his long tongue hanging out of his opening maw.

"A-avail yourself, then. No worries." I assured him, trying to peel my eyes away from his screen. Paperwork. Checklists. Must complete the checklists.

"Oh," He gasped, and when I glanced at the screen he was on his four legs and stroking himself with both of his humanoid hands. His tongue wrapped around the tip of his own member and I nearly squealed. "Mmmnh." His moan was accompanied by a lewd slurping and schick!schlik!schlik! I had to cover my mouth with my hand when a second appendage emerged, this one shorter and slicker.

I physically turned my chair around and hung my head between my knees. Holy shit. He was seriously going for it. No shame, no holds barred. My nails dug into my thighs through my black trousers as he began to make such shameless noises and pant rapidly. As I listened, he gave several gasps, as if in warning, and when I turned to look I saw a practical geyser of white fluid spray the floor and wall. Throwing his head back, spine arched, hips bucking, he roared unlike anything I've ever heard in my entire life. Shivers ran through me and my whole body trembled.

He stretched and groaned, his huge cocks still twitching and hanging low, thick white seed drooling from them at a steady pace. "Forgive me," He sighed. "My head is much clearer, now." He told me.

"Good. That's g-good to hear." I replied.

"Have you finished with your own business?" He asked.

"What? No, I wouldn't--OH! Oh, fuck." I smacked my forehead and drummed my fingers on the table. "I got distracted again." My phone read nearly 5 AM. The next shift would be here in an hour.

Michael chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment." He said with a yawn.

"Don't do that." I told him. "Don't be that guy." A smile tugged at my lips, though. So his frustration with me had been sexual? Interesting. As I watched he sauntered over to his bed, a pile of dense furs, and the way he walked reminded me of a lion. Predatory, and entirely at his own leisure.

"I'm afraid I'm falling asleep." He said through yet another yawn.

"Well, you did just commit quite a powerful display." I teased in a flat tone.

"Hm," He chuckled. "Thank you for your company. I'll rest easier knowing that I have you to wake up to, Charlotte." He told me softly.

God, that was...why was it so heartwarming to hear him say something like that? "Good night, Michael." I told him.

"Good night, Charlotte." He replied.

For the next hour I dutifully finished my paperwork and turned it in using the fax machine down the hall. Around six, my relief came in the form of a very tired older man who seemed to always have a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. As I left the building that day, I gave the doors leading to Michael's containment cell a lingering look before I departed. Knowing that he was so close, and yet so far away, was oddly comforting and...sad. When I arrived home, I found myself laying in bed, my mind plagued with the replay of his voice, the weight of his every movement in that cell, and the glorious arching jettisons of his ejaculations from our mere conversation. My hand slipped down the front of my pajama shorts and I gave myself only a few quick, needful strokes before I was crying out into my pillows, hips bucking and fingers furiously rubbing my aching sex as I imagined how his tongue would feel inside of me, how the feeling of his hair caressing my breasts and belly as he pumped his enormous load within my womb.

I fell into a deep sleep afterwards, and when I woke up, I felt happy to go to work for once.