— Begging for Treats at 90 BPM

Time: Wednesday, 15:30 Location: Editor-in-Chief’s Office, Star Weekly Atmosphere: Serious, tense, and masking a subtle, elusive air of ambiguity.

Chen Ruolan sat behind a massive mahogany desk, a pair of rimless glasses perched on her nose. She held a red pen, mercilessly grading a proposal submitted by a subordinate. “Trash. Logically incoherent. Rewrite it.” She tossed the folder aside with a crisp snap. The air pressure in the office plummeted to freezing. The marketing director standing at the desk shivered, not daring to draw a full breath.

Knock, knock. The office door was tapped lightly. “Come in.” Chen Ruolan didn’t look up, her voice cold.

The door pushed open, and a young man in a casual hoodie entered, carrying a tray. It was Gu Xingzhou. A trademark, boyish, brilliant smile hung on his face, as if he were completely oblivious to the heavy atmosphere. “Sister Ruolan, it’s afternoon tea time.” His voice was clear and bright, like a beam of sunlight piercing a dark cavern.

Chen Ruolan paused her pen, looked up at him, and gave him a glance. “Did I say I wanted afternoon tea?”

“You didn’t, but I heard it.” Gu Xingzhou grinned as he walked over and set the tray on the desk. On the tray was a freshly brewed Americano (no sugar) and a small, delicate slice of Black Forest cake. He pointed to his own ears. “Your stomach is protesting; the frequency is about… 90 BPM of hunger.”

Chen Ruolan rolled her eyes, but her tense expression softened slightly. She waved a hand, signaling the marketing director—who looked like he was about to burst into tears—to leave. “Get out. If you don’t have a new plan by tomorrow, don’t bother coming in.” “Yes! Thank you, Editor-in-Chief!” The director, as if granted amnesty, gave Gu Xingzhou a grateful look and fled the scene at top speed.

The office door clicked shut. Only the two of them remained.

Chen Ruolan took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. “Gu Xingzhou, are you really that idle? Don’t you have a new album to record?”

“Already finished.” Gu Xingzhou bypassed the desk and, with practiced ease, walked behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders to begin a well-paced massage. “Now it’s my… ‘service time’.”

His fingers were long and strong, precisely finding the stiff muscles in her neck and shoulders. The sensation of sweet relief made Chen Ruolan let out a soft sigh. “Mmm… a bit to the left.” She closed her eyes, indulging in the ministrations of this “large dog.”

“As you wish, Mistress.” Gu Xingzhou responded obediently, though his fingers mischievously slid down her spine, brushing against the sensitive lines of her back. “Is the pressure okay?” He whispered in her ear, his warm breath fanning across her neck.

“It’s alright.” Chen Ruolan kept her eyes closed, her tone languid. “But is that all your ‘service’ entails?”

Gu Xingzhou’s hands paused. He looked at this queenly, arrogant woman, a flicker of dark, excited light dancing in the depths of his eyes. He suddenly stopped the massage, braced his hands on the back of the chair, and leaned over her face.

“If you feel that isn’t enough…” His voice turned low and raspy. “…then I can provide… more in-depth service.”

Chen Ruolan opened her eyes, meeting his aggressive, peach-blossom gaze. She wasn’t intimidated; instead, she curved her lips into a playful smile. She reached out, her long fingertips lightly tilting his chin upward.

“Want a reward?” She looked at him, as if teasing a dog begging for a bone. “I can’t finish this cake.”

Gu Xingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked at the black cake, then at her lips, painted in a sharp, vibrant red.

“Then… shall I handle it for you?”

“Did I say you could eat it?” Chen Ruolan sneered, pulling back her hand. She picked up a fork and cut a small piece of cake, heavily laden with cream. Then, instead of putting it in her own mouth, she… smeared it onto Gu Xingzhou’s lips.

The black chocolate cream left a conspicuous trail on his pale pink lips. “Eat it,” she commanded. “But no hands. And you aren’t allowed to lick it off with your tongue.”

Gu Xingzhou froze. No hands, no tongue… how was he supposed to eat it?

Chen Ruolan watched his stunned expression, feeling quite pleased. She picked up her pen again and lowered her head to read her documents, as if nothing had happened. “You have five minutes. If you can’t eat it clean… don’t even think about getting in my car tonight.”

Gu Xingzhou stood there, feeling the sweet, sticky cream on his lips and the wildly growing, desperate craving to be thoroughly toyed with by her. He looked at her indifferent profile and suddenly understood. This wasn’t about eating cake. It was about making him… “beg” her to eat him.

He took a deep breath and slowly, deliberately, knelt on one knee beside her desk. He didn’t speak, just stared at her with those wet, longing eyes. Then, he leaned his face close to her hand and, like a small dog begging for food, nuzzled her hand gently.

“Woof.” He let out a whisper-soft, incredibly shameful puff of air.

The pen in Chen Ruolan’s hand stopped. She turned her head, looking at the man kneeling at her feet and the jarring smear of cream on his lips. She smiled. This time, it was a genuine smile.

“What a… greedy dog.” She set down her pen, reached out her thumb, pressed firmly into his cream-smeared lips, and smeared the sweetness right into his mouth.

“A reward for you.”

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