The chef who came into the room slowly approached me with an earthen pot.
Gently place the earthen pot you brought on the table and smile niggly.
Just look at me so I don't look like Mr. Fiona...
And he left the room without a word.
I don't know what to do, I think you've cooked my meal, and I'm terribly scared of that dish.
It could be poisoned to make sure I'm weak.
Is it true that the chef, who was moving like a subordinate, flipped the anti-flag?
Though you didn't do one thing like a master, you missed him so much.
Maybe he kept holding onto his roots about the sponge hamburger he evacuated when we met.
"I had the chief chef cook cook for the sick food"
Fiona, who didn't know what the chef was up to, spoke to me gently.
I can't let the revenge of the head chef scatter the lives of the people I see and connect with.
Please, I want you to notice.
It's most likely poisoned.
It brings back the creepy smile of the chef and the last time he looked at me and smiled.
But Mr. Fiona doesn't notice.
It gently wakes up my body, not trying to wake up asleep.
It should be noted that the lower body is already awake t (self-weight
And Mr. Fiona opens the lid of the forbidden earthen pot.
………
Chef, I'm sorry I doubted you.
That's what that smile meant.
I wasn't trying to kill you.
But I don't have that kind of hobby.
So let's stop writing hearts with ketchup on itch.
I hope a good old Osama chef doesn't send a heart to me, Osama, 32.
Don't run an operation that raises points where you're weak.
It doesn't strike me with this heart.
Instead, I'm a little scared to think you've ever seen me like that.
I want the chef to think about how Mr. Fiona feels about this itchy heart.
Even though it hasn't been officially announced, she's in good health.
No matter how blunt a person is, they usually will notice.
I wonder why he's been attacking me thinking 'we can still make it'.
No matter how long I wait, I only accept it from the opposite sex.
And you can't even put ketchup in the itch.
Mr. Fiona only removed ketchup with a straight face, without blinking once.
Two feelings would have come to one.
I decided there was no ketchup.
As if nothing was going on as it were, I was going to eat an itch named Rice Cooking.
I can't move my body well, I'm embarrassed, but I get to do 'ahem'.
I managed to eat myself, because Mr. Fiona wouldn't give me the spoon.
Even I don't like this kind of thing when I have suspicions that I like to play toddler regression.
I'm so embarrassed, I really want you to stop.
"Yourself, eat"
"I won't admit it, because I'll cool you down properly"
That's not the problem.
Because I'm not worried about cat tongue.
I'm really ashamed, and I want you to stop.
"I don't hate this kind of thing.
Because I want to see you do it and eat it.
I was looking forward to seeing if I could eat soon. "
Oh, does Mr. Fiona like toddler regression play?
Then I'll accept it, too.
If Mr. Fiona's going to enjoy it, I'm going to accept most of it.
Even the butt pen will please you.
I guess Mr. Fiona was really excited.
I mumbled my nose song and shrugged my itch with a spoon.
"Huh. Yes, uh-huh."
I get excited early on about Mr. Fiona's word "ahhh".
Word blame for gentle toddler play isn't bad either.
If I had thought of that, I would have realized the horror of this play.
Mr. Fiona is staring at my mouth the whole time.
Mr. Fiona, who carries it slowly so as not to spill it, sets his aim to aim it at my mouth.
Just keep staring at my mouth and keep your eyes open if you have a spoon in your mouth.
The last time the spoon in my mouth leaves, they stare at me.
Don't look at your mouth so much...
It's embarrassing to be seen eating.
But it also creates a mysterious desire to see more.
I feel comfortable singling out Mr. Fiona's gaze.
Do you really like toddler play, you smile with a luscious smile.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
I only had her do it once, but she captivated me early.
This itch is so salty, but I hardly care about that.
"Huh. Yes, uh-huh."
No, stop, don't look at my mouth so much.
Oh, I'm sorry, that's a lie, so I want you to look at me more.
But look at my mouth, don't huffle.
Oh, no, if you look at me with that tongue nodding.
Ahhh, that's great.
Even then, Mr. Fiona carried the itch with a very happy face.
Even after the meal, I still can't help but want to be 'ahhh'.
Apparently, Mr. Fiona has pioneered an area she didn't like.
Next time I eat dinner, I want to be aggressively sweet.
It's only been about an hour since I woke up, even though I can finally have dinner.
I want to keep rehabbing and moving my body.
If I thought so, the ravages at Mr. Fiona's hands began again and I was put to sleep on my back.
By the time I thought the sleeping service would start, it was too late.
Soon his head starts to be stroked and his consciousness becomes distant in two seconds.
The next time I woke up, it was lunch the next day.
There was a Mr. Fiona nearby, so I'll tell him I'm going to rehab him.
"It's still early," I disagree, but I can't even say that.
I wonder myself, you haven't been to the bathroom once since you woke up.
More than I ate itch, I don't like it anymore, but I have errands in the bathroom.
I don't want you to take care of me downstairs, so I want to train you to walk early.
I'll force Mr. Fiona to do me a favor and start walking training.
But it was unexpected.
Yochiyochi, you can't even walk, you don't move as much as your body thinks.
When you're about to rush me, Mr. Fiona will give you a pat of support.
I get a hug every time, so my boobs hit me and I'm thrilled.
Well, then, I can't concentrate and practice.
"Hands behind your back, walk"
"Okay."
I wanted to make sure I walked because you could hold my hand and take it slow.
But this was unexpected, too.
I have my hands in front of me and I have them gripping me opposite Fiona. [M]
Then, because Mr. Fiona is in the foreground, I can see her tits all around.
Can I keep looking up at the princess's tits, even though I've been feeling them on my back?
Oh, and... Was it battle day?
If they put a black lace on it, you'll be fascinated.
I've been brainwashed by Mr. Fiona's forehead tits, and my body moves forward naturally, like a horse who can hang carrots in front of me.
I want to get close to my boobs,
Tits escape,
I want to see my tits closer.
With the holy power of tits (perverted power), when you look at it, you improve.
When I walk a little fuzzy, Mr. Fiona tries to support me, and my tits shake.
It's just two big objects shaking, and I'm so excited.
No matter how shaky it gets, it definitely returns to its original position.
That's what I wanted to see, and I kept walking aggressively staring at one point.
What a mysterious sight.
- Three hours later -
My tits are so appealing that I kept training them.
As a result, I wanted to go to the bathroom.
Heh, I'm just normally adding to my needs.
BE, BE, BE, because I don't do anything weird.
I walk to the bathroom while Fiona escorts me. [M]
The results of the breast training are awesome.
I can walk normally if I'm slow.
When I followed Mr. Fiona's guidance straight to the bathroom, I obviously went into the women's room.
"No, men's toilet, go"
"I can't accompany you in the men's room, so please use the women's room"
If that's the case, I'll go to the girls' room.
It's not a bad idea to taste the disloyalty of adding use in a forbidden women's bathroom.
Follow Mr. Fiona behind you and into the women's bathroom.
One maid just came out of the ladies' room and looked at me chilly.
That's just awkward, but Mr. Fiona doesn't mind.
Continue to follow the guidance and enter the private room in front of the 1st.
Naturally, close the door to add use.
but somehow Mr. Fiona comes in with me.
Really stop watching the bathroom.
"Let's hurry up"
"I'll do it myself, go outside"
Mr. Fiona, who doesn't listen to me, crouches down and puts his hand on my pants.
That's all I'm asking you to stop, desperately raising your pants and resisting.
In the women's restroom, an offensive battle to lower my pants began.
"Don't hesitate, let's go sheesh"
"Stop, one, I can"
Since when did Mr. Fiona start running to such power play?
I'd like that on the bed, please.
I didn't expect the impact of toddler retirement play to this point.
"I want to take care of you."
"Toilet, no"
"I don't mind just a little bit"
"Please, go out!
Then I managed to control about 5 minutes of offensive battle and didn't have to leak critical.
I guess Mr. Fiona inherits the queen's smudging motherhood.
I really like it, but I just want you to stop using the bathroom.
When I opened the bathroom door for her, she didn't look like Fiona, and I met three maids perfectly in the ladies' room.
We gaze at each other, and it solidifies.
Naturally, no matter how many children I say, I'm alone in the girls' bathroom.
It is completely perverse.
Somehow we do it in a 'duh, thank you' kind of way, and the subtle air flows.
When I went outside the women's bathroom, Mr. Fiona was waiting for me.
I'm the one who did say "go outside," so I can't say anything.
Mr. Fiona can't see through the bathroom and looks depressed.
My maids think I'm a pervert coming into the women's room, and I'm depressed. [M]
From this day on, I think I will never forget that my maid's gaze has gotten tough.