"I broke the rules and did something dangerous."
Those words were written clearly on the whiteboard hanging from Cloche's neck.
In the study at home, Cloche was being punished.
A cute bone-shaped gag was strapped tightly around her mouth. Unable to close it, drool poured from her lips as she panted heavily—"Hnnff, hnnff"—through her nose.
She was in a wide-legged squat pose, known as "sitting at attention," with her hands clasped behind her head and her wrists bound in restraints.
"HNNFFF! HHHMMMFFF MMMNN!! MMM!! Master, please forgive meee!"
"Alright, let's start the debrief."
"Understood."
"Got it. Heheh, you've got such a great expression on right now."
"Cloche-san… I'm jealous."
Cloche's face turned crimson as she looked to Wataru with pleading, tearful eyes.
But Wataru ignored her.
Even if she couldn't speak, she could at least try gestures, but the restraints were firm—just inching toward him was a struggle.
Every movement made the chains rattle.
