[Avoid if you have a weak-top preference] [Control freaks, stay away!!!]
[Currently preparing chapters] [If you can't handle villains being criticized, don't click]
Everyone in high society knows that Qin Ting has a special fetish.
He likes watching handsome men fall ill, preferably so sick they're deathly pale, gasping for breath every few steps, their eyes reddened as they cry in front of him, trembling as they curl up in his arms.
Countless people have fought tooth and nail to climb into the bed of the powerful Qin, hoping to rise in the world. Unfortunately, the man's tastes are so exacting that he sends them all back, whether they're international supermodels or famous idols and stars.
"This one isn't sickly enough to be beautiful."
"This one's skin is too dark."
"This one has ambition written all over his eyes."
"This one doesn't look very bright."
"This one looks like he's about to die."
At the end of the day, Qin Ting thinks no one is good enough for him. He doesn't need a boyfriend. He just wants an "artwork" that meets his standards perfectly.
On his birthday, someone hoping to secure an investment catered to his tastes and gave him a "sickly robot."
Put simply, the man had been custom-made to suit his preferences. Not only did he feel incredibly lifelike, he could also act sickly with exquisite beauty. Even in certain details, he was indistinguishable from a real person: pink, and nicely endowed.
Qin Ting was very pleased. He even grew fond of the machine, hiring a famous designer to make him one flashy outfit after another, then dressing him himself.
He stroked the sexy V-line and dimples on his robot boyfriend's lower back, and spoke with unusual tenderness. "Baby, if you were a real person, I'd want to give you the very best of everything in the world."
Then one day, he came home early from a business trip.
In the garden, the robot, who was supposed to be in sleep mode, was lounging lazily in a deck chair, a cigarette between his long, pale fingers as he haggled nonchalantly with someone on the phone.
"Mr. Zhang, we agreed from the start that I'd only pretend to be a robot. Getting in bed is a separate fee, and it's easy to blow my cover."
"And what's with him getting handsy all the time lately? Is no one going to do anything about it?"
Before he could finish, someone snatched the cigarette from between his fingers.
Qin Ting loosened his tie and took a drag from the half-smoked cigarette. His voice was gritted with anger, yet tinged with amusement.
"You're a good actor."
"Get down from that chair. Let's talk about paying you extra."
[Reading Guide]
1. Sickly, obscure actor top (Song Zhixue) x emotionally chaste, powerful bottom (Qin Ting); beautiful top x strong bottom
2. Younger top, both virgins, five-year age gap, 23 x 28, Song Zhixue is the top
3. The top pretends to be a robot and feigns illness, taking all kinds of drugs at the bottom's command and damaging his organs
4. Warning!!! Not suitable for anyone with a preference for a particular side!!!!
The author has no desire to control what readers think. I just want to write the kind of fetish story I enjoy, and I hope people won't impose their own preferences on me. If it's not for you, just click the X. Thanks.
Theme: Bloom into a flower before you rot.
