In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

Ian put the plan aside—although the director was young, he was very good at organizing things, and he didn't find anything he could add.

His hand moved slowly across the blanket, then stopped at a spot resembling a head.

The man gently stroked it a few times, then applied a little pressure and pressed it down slightly.

The blanket trembled for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.

Seeing this, the man increased the pressure until it was completely pressed to the end and could not move.

Gurgling.

A swallowing sound came from under the covers.

The man's lips were also exhaling slightly during this process.

After a long while, everything returned to the tranquility of the night.

Ian lifted the blanket and saw Mashu blushing deeply.

She lay between the man's legs like a docile puppy, her mouth tightly holding the huge, cylindrical object with its grinding teeth, causing her cheeks to tuck in slightly.

Although the position was extremely embarrassing, Mashu's expression showed that she was very happy.

Just as she said before—

This relationship of being "used" is something she is very happy about.

Even now, this is a reality that has never been achieved before.

Ian, who understood the reason behind it, had mixed feelings.

However, out of male instinct, he no longer hated it all.

As for guilt and such.

Although there are some, they are still within an acceptable range.

Besides——

If I abandon Mashu tonight, I'll probably have to bear an even greater sense of guilt.

"Matthew."

Ian gently stroked the pink-haired girl's head.

"Will you feel uncomfortable holding it in?"

Mashu shook her head.

"That's good."

Mashu patted Mashu's cheek.

"I'd appreciate it if you could clean it up properly for the rest of the time."

Mashu blushed, and then began practicing as a tool.

Feeling the extremely gentle licking and sucking sensation, Ian remembered something.

He picked up his phone and took a picture of the scene inside the blankets from a perfect angle.

He opened the message from Ophelia and replied to her question.

"Yes, I do like this black color."

"besides--"

Ian sent the photo to Ophelia.

"The leverage you've always wanted to get."

"You should be relieved now that you're not around."

“I’m an idiot. I didn’t keep my promise not to lay a hand on Mashu.”

"But don't worry."

"I will definitely take good care of her."

166. Mashu's Morning Cleaning Mission / Ophelia's Tension (4k)

A dreamless night.

Ian had a good night's sleep, something he hadn't had in a long time.

He opened his eyes and saw Mashu beside him.

The girl was holding her own arm tightly, looking completely content.

There were still traces of last night's stains on the corners of her mouth.

Ian couldn't bear to disturb Mashu in this state, so he decided to wait quietly for her to wake up.

but--

Mashu seems to be prone to awakening.

She woke up shortly after Ian opened his eyes.

Upon realizing that Ian was watching her, she blushed instantly and managed to squeeze out a sentence after a long pause.

"Good morning, senior."

"Well, good morning."

The man gently stroked the girl's hair.

"Did I wake you up?"

“No, that’s not true!” Mashu shook her head repeatedly. “It’s because I’m a light sleeper that this happened.”

"Especially now that I'm lying in the same bed as my senior..."

Mashu spoke softer and softer.

This is not hard to understand—after all, it's the first time doing something like this.

If she could accept it so readily, then she wouldn't be Mashu.

"Looks like you didn't get enough rest last night."

Ian gently stroked Mash's bangs.

"but--"

"I slept quite well with Mashu's help."

"With my help?"

"Mmm." Ian's fingers gently stroked Mash's lips. "Its service is very attentive."

Despite the words sounding like a form of discipline, Mashu found a sliver of pleasure amidst the overflowing shame.

"Does that really mean it, senior?"

"I... I thought you wouldn't like it."

How could I not like it?

Ian put his arm around Mash's waist.

"As a 'tool,' you are excellent."

This close contact allowed the girl to immediately sense some kind of morning physiological reaction in the other person.

She hesitated for a moment, then asked shyly.

"Senior...you're very strong."

"Do you need my help with this?"

Instead of answering directly, Ian asked Mashu a question in return.

"Don't you feel uncomfortable having to do this right after waking up?"

"will not."

Mashu's hands became bolder.

She answered while feeling the warmth emanating from the other person.

“I am my senior’s ‘tool’.”

"Serving our seniors is a matter of course."

"..."

Ian didn't refuse again—he knew that would only ruin Mash's good mood for the day.

"Then I'll leave it to you, Mashu."

"Yes!"

Fou, curled up in a ball, was still fast asleep on her own throne.

Mashu was already kneeling by the bed, diligently working.

The girl's head was buried between the man's legs.

She slowly collected the anger she felt when she woke up in the morning.

Just as she herself admitted—this is how a "tool" should behave.

Ian stroked her head affectionately, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over the phone on the table.

anyway--

Ophelia didn't react at all?

Ian had expected her to express her disgust at his behavior.

Now it seems that this is not the case at all.

But that's not surprising—she probably doesn't care at all.

After all, Ophelia had every reason to hate herself in every sense of the word.