Inside was toner filled almost to the brim. Under his good strength, not a single drop of ink leaked out.

Bertha leaned against the headboard, watching quietly.

If she hits him, she is afraid he will be hurt.

If she let him kneel on the laundry table, she would ache for his knees.

So she decided to find a way to torture another person and drain away his abundant spirit.

“Please draw well, and don't spill my toner, I haven't used it yet, it's very precious. If you drop a drop, you ...