Sparkling Cock (5)

"Hah… hah…"

Labored breaths spilled out. A little cotton ball of a dog rubbed its cheek against my leg—a tiny Maltese, tongue lolling, working every ounce of charm it had. Its tail spun like a propeller; the thing was clearly thrilled. Something about that panting face felt oddly familiar, and before I knew it I was stroking its head. The Maltese shoved its skull harder into my palm, begging for more, so I crouched down and worked both hands through its fur.

The coat was pure white, not a speck of grime on it, and it barely smelled doggy at all—clearly well cared for. A gold collar hung around its neck, engraved with the dog's name and the owner's contact info.

The second I read the name, someone flashed through my mind. Wasn't Cocoa Writer's dog named Coco?

No sooner had the thought formed than Cocoa Writer herself came running from the far end of the path. She wore a comfortable tracksuit top over blue leggings that left nothing of her tight ass and hips to the imagination. Her gold-dyed hair swayed with every stride, and she clutched what was clearly Coco's leash in one fist. She'd lost the dog mid-walk.

I scooped Coco up carefully so she couldn't bolt again. Luckily, the little thing had zero interest in escaping. I hadn't held many puppies before, so I just braced her paws with one hand and lifted. She was light and well-behaved—easy enough.

"Oh my god… hah, hah. Thank you so much. She just slipped her leash and took off all of a sudden."

"It's nothing. Coco's adorable."

I handed the dog over and was about to introduce myself. Chun Yeonho had drilled it into me—score even the tiniest points, get your face remembered. In this industry, the smallest connection, the briefest meeting, could grow into something huge later on.

But Cocoa Writer recognized me first.

"Huh? Aren't you Park Seoh-ah's manager?"

"Yes, that's right. I'm Park Seoh-ah's manager."

"What brings you here? There shouldn't be anything scheduled today."

"I wanted to bring Director Geon some coffee I put real effort into."

"Ah…!"

Cocoa Writer's eyes went round.

"That picky director wouldn't stop raving about it. He's never once said coffee tasted good before."

She shot me a sidelong look that clearly wanted something. I answered without missing a beat.

"I brought plenty this time. I grabbed cake and macarons too—please take a break and enjoy them while you work."

"Aww, I'll dig right in. Thank you. Your name's Jiwoo, right?"

"Yes. Would it be all right if I called you Writer?"

Cocoa Writer nodded.

"I really love being called Writer, you know."

"Don't you hear it all the time? You're the coolest writer I've ever met."

"Ahaha. Really? Thank you. That's the kind of thing I never get tired of hearing."

She smiled and reached for Coco. Unlike when she'd been nestled in my arms, Coco started squirming a little.

"Coco, what's wrong? It's okay, it's Mama. Settle down."

Kyung. Kyung.

Coco paddled her paws and let out the cutest little whines. Cocoa Writer hoisted her up and locked eyes with her.

"Hey now… just hold on a little longer, okay?"

Kyung-kyung.

"It's all right, Coco. Just stay quiet like this for a bit. You listen to Mama, don't you?"

"Yes…"

"Hm? What did you say?"

"N-nothing… I didn't say anything."

Oh, for fuck's sake. I'd answered on pure reflex—like I was the dog being handled. A filthy little wish boiled up in my chest: I wanted her to touch me like that, command me like that, instead of Coco.

Just like Master had told me again and again. I was a masochist who wanted to surrender to women. Of course I did. I was a maso puppy who couldn't defy a woman. That was simply how I was built. But the impulse hit harder than usual this time. If Master had been standing beside me, I probably wouldn't have held back—I'd have started acting cute on the spot. My startled heart hammered against my ribs.

Coco calmed for a moment, then thrashed again the second the leash came near her neck.

"Come to think of it, you were holding her, right?"

"Yes—why?"

"Could you hold her for a second?"

I took Coco back without thinking. She went still and gentle, just like the first time she'd settled into my arms. Cocoa Writer clipped the leash on with ease.

"Huh, that's weird. Coco is seriously picky with strangers. She's the office celebrity right now and nobody can even touch her."

"Really? She's so tame like this."

"The director tried to pet her once and got bitten… She must like you, Jiwoo."

Sniff sniff.

I flinched. Cocoa Writer stepped in close and smelled my collar. She closed her eyes and drew the scent in several times, savoring it, then opened those round eyes again. Smiling at me from inches away.

Thump.

"Ah… there's something nice about the way you smell. Harmless, maybe? Something Coco would like."

"…Thank you."

Thump-thump.

"Oh, sorry. That was way too close."

"It's fine… Writer."

"Are you sure it's fine? Your face is bright red. You're not a tomato."

Cocoa Writer gave me a sultry little eye-smile.

"A little awkward around women? Though that doesn't quite track for Park Seoh-ah's manager."

"Um… I-I am a bit awkward, yeah…"

"Is that so? Park Seoh-ah is ridiculously pretty, isn't she? I've never seen a face that doesn't lose even standing next to Ahyoung."

"Seoh-ah… is very beautiful, yes."

"Then someone like me doesn't do anything for you, right?"

"Cocoa Writer, you're also incredibly… beautiful. The first time I saw you, I thought you were an actress."

She laughed and stroked my forearm.

"Thank you. The awkward thing feels real, though. Your face just got even redder."

"…"

I didn't answer. I quietly looked away. If she kept holding my gaze like that and issued even a single command, I was pretty sure I'd obey it on the spot. Fortunately, Cocoa Writer stopped digging there. Coco liked my arms so much that I kept holding her as we walked toward the office, chatting along the way.

She told me Coco hadn't been eating well lately and was far too wary of strangers, which had her worried—so seeing the dog nestled against me was genuinely bizarre. I also caught a mention that they were having a small problem with props right now. CG tech had come a long way, but everyone agreed that sourcing real props still looked far more authentic and better on camera.

When we stepped into the office, Director Geon was there, along with the drama writer and assistant director I'd met before, plus a few faces I didn't recognize. Director Gun Hyun-woo spotted me and greeted me first.

"Mm, Jiwoo. You made ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it?"

Since when did the director talk to me that casually?

"Hello, Director."

I smiled and bowed without letting the surprise show. Judging by his face, he was desperate for that coffee. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like he'd been staring at the door even before it opened—waiting for me to show. Not that it mattered either way. The more he drank, the more he'd crave it, the thirstier he'd get.

His eyes flicked to Coco in my arms, then to Cocoa Writer trailing in behind me.

"You two coming in together?"

"We ran into each other on the way. Our Coco seems to really like the manager."

"Yeah, look at that. Sitting so quietly in his arms. I think she likes him more than our superstar writer."

"Hey… honestly, it looks that way to me too. I feel so betrayed. Ugh, my Coco."

Cocoa Writer pinched Coco's cheeks and jiggled them.

Kyiiing-kyiiing.

Coco grinned like an idiot.

"Whoa, what? She can actually be that calm?"

"Coco's so cute. I've wanted to pet her forever…"

"She looks so soft…"

People around the office stole glances and muttered among themselves. I handed Coco back to Cocoa Writer, then introduced myself and greeted the staff one by one. Last of all, I met the director's stare—he'd been watching me the whole time. Without wasting words, I pulled a large thermos from my crossbody bag.

"Here you go, Director."

Director Geon's face loosened as he took the thermos.

"Bottle's pretty big."

"I packed enough for everyone else too. I've got two more."

I pulled two more thermoses from the bag, along with a whole stack of paper cups so people could pour their own. As the director cracked the lid open, I poured for him and added,

"Today's… going to taste even better than yesterday."

"Ohh. That so? Now I'm looking forward to it."

This time it wasn't instant mix—I'd bought it from a café Chun Yeonho recommended. The director had claimed he couldn't drink anything else now that he'd had my mix, but this was a place he'd happily bought from before that. This morning, while making Master's breakfast, I'd sprinkled Red ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Salt on a few things and tried them myself. It was strange how I never got full, so I kept eating—and that's when I noticed something odd.

A cracker dusted with Red Salt, and a tomato. Both tasted good, but the difference in quality was extreme. The flavors were slightly out of balance. The cracker felt dirt cheap; the tomato felt like the finest produce money could buy. Maybe there was a way to push Red Salt's effect even further. No—more accurately, I'd just uncovered what Red Salt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could really do. And I was about to confirm it through everyone else's reactions.

"Me next."

"I grabbed it first."

"Thanks, Manager Park. Looking forward to it."

Just how much had the director been bragging? Everyone sitting in the office crowded over at once.

"No. Wait."

I flinched.

Across the room, Cocoa Writer was looking at Coco, holding out a treat.

"That's it. Wait. Good girl—now you can eat."

Nom nom nom.

She stroked Coco as the dog happily chewed. I watched for a second, then walked straight out of the office to grab the plastic bags of cake, macarons, and bread. These hadn't come from the café—I'd bought them at a proper specialty bakery.

I slipped into a bathroom stall, reached into my Pocket, and pulled out… Master's panties. I mashed them against my nose.

Sniff sniff.

My cock snapped to attention like a conditioned reflex—not just hard, but already beading with precum, sticky and wet. Sss. Haa. My eyeballs trembled. I shoved my pants and underwear down. My quivering cock was already so swollen it looked ready to blow. Every time I huffed the woman-scent clinging to those panties, it twitched in eager response. For some reason I couldn't stand another second without burying myself in Master's scent. I had to surrender to it, had to swear my loyalty right then and there. The deeper I breathed, the more my brain drowned in bliss. I wanted to cum buried in that smell.

Staring at my cock, frantic to ejaculate, I remembered Cocoa Writer's words.

No. Wait.

I forced my overheated body to calm down. I was careful not to let my cock even twitch. I stopped sniffing Master's panties. Her voice kept playing in my head.

That's it. Wait. Hold it. No throbbing.

Twitch ♥

Somewhere the words warped as they replayed against my ear.

Good boy. Now cum. Shoot it. Lose.

Sss. Sniff sniff sniff.

Throb. Gush gush.

Semen burst out in a pathetic flood. My cock, having heard the command, submitted completely. White ropes spattered the stall wall. She was a total stranger. Cocoa Writer and I had no history at all. Imagining orders from a woman like that sent a massive rush of pleasure and depravity surging through me. Just like Master said—I was breaking down and corrupting without end. A man who could never beat a woman. A maso puppy in heat who wanted nothing more than to lose to one.

I carefully wiped off the cock that had just enjoyed its masochistic orgasm.

Twitch ♥

The tissue brushed my hypersensitive head and a fierce jolt shot through me. If I kept rubbing like this, my brain would melt into pure idiocy. I barely managed to clean the cum off my cock and the wall and claw my sanity back together. Then, clear-headed again, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠buried my nose in Master's panties once more and swore another round of loyalty.

"Master feels so good… I want you to step on me…"

I huffed for a few more minutes, then left the bathroom. I'd vanished without a word. Watching Cocoa Writer train Coco had blanked my mind white; the only impulse left was the urge to lose, and I hadn't been able to hold it back. Well, nothing catastrophic was going to happen just because I stepped out for a minute—as long as the coffee didn't taste bad and crush Director Geon's expectations.

I gave the bag of snacks a little swing and opened the office door.

"I bought some food to go with the coffee. You can have this with—"

I stopped mid-sentence, sensing something wrong.

The office was eerily silent. Everyone held a paper cup. Someone was crumpling theirs. Someone else was gnawing at the rim. Someone had flipped theirs upside down on their head. The director, Cocoa Writer, and the chief AD were each tipping the big thermoses over and shaking them hard. Not a single drop of coffee—not even water—came out.

And then, all at once, dozens of razor-sharp eyes locked onto me.