"No Patreon or OnlyFans!" Makoto's voice cut through their excited brainstorming.
He looked directly at Mika. "We're only posting and selling SFW stuff." His gaze was hard and unwavering. "Whatever is behind the scenes, lewd or sexy... is for my eyes only. Understand?"
Silence fell over the living room, broken only by the soft hum of the sewing machine Yuna had forgotten to turn off. Yuna and Ayane both looked from his stern face to Mika's, their expressions showing surprise and dawning interest. He had just laid down the law.
Mika didn't flinch or look away. Her serene smile didn't falter, but something in her eyes changed. The bright, calculating spark was replaced by a deep, pleased gleam. She wasn't offended, of course. She was thrilled.
"Of course, darling," she said softly. The whisper was somehow more impactful than a shout. She gave a small nod, perfectly submissive. "I understand completely."
She lowered her gaze, the picture of demure obedience. "You're right," she murmured, her voice low and intimate, meant only for him, even though the others could clearly hear. "Some things should be kept private." Then she looked back up, her eyes shining with an adoring light that made the hair on his arms stand up. "I think that's very romantic."
Yuna scoffed, but she was clearly pleased by his display of possessiveness. "Obviously," she muttered, turning back to her sewing machine with renewed vigor. "I'm not a whore. My body is for... for my big bro only."
Makoto walked closer, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Good," he said, his voice low. "But since you brought it up..." He looked at Mika. "I think you need a light punishment this time."
He slowly removed Mika's clothes, unstrapped her bra, and pulled down her panties. "You can start working like that, then."
Mika let out a small gasp as the cool air hit her bare skin, showing off her white, slender body and her toned ass. A shiver ran through her. But she didn't protest. She didn't move, just stood there, a willing sacrifice in the middle of the living room.
Yuna's sewing machine screeched to a halt. Ayane, who had been trying to pin a piece of fabric, stabbed herself in the thumb. "Ow! Fuck!" she yelped, shaking her hand.
Mika didn't even seem to notice them. Her eyes were fixed on him, shining with feverish light. "Yes," she whispered, her voice raw, broken. "This is my punishment. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." She gave a small bow.
Then she walked back to her spot, her movements a little unsteady. A deep blush spread from her neck to her cheeks. She sat down, picked up Nezuko's obi and began to sew, her naked body a stark, beautiful contrast to the domestic task she was performing.
Yuna just stared, her mouth slightly open. Ayane shook her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Wow," she muttered. "That's... that's a new level of kinky."
"I'm sure it will happen again, seeing how she seems to enjoy that punishment." Makoto just shook his head as he resumed working, starting on their poster and web designs. Then he looked at the working girls. "So, we will need to design some polaroids, posters, and a photobook. Any more ideas?"
"Keychains," Yuna blurted out, her focus snapping back to business. The sight of a naked, blissed-out Mika was, apparently, not enough to distract her from the scent of money. "Chibi versions of us in our costumes. And maybe acrylic standees. Those have huge profit margins if you can find a cheap supplier."
"Stickers!" Ayane added enthusiastically. She was completely recovered from stabbing herself. "We could do a whole sticker sheet. And maybe some... slightly spicier, 'oops, my shirt is slipping' versions for our under-the-table sales."
She winked, then immediately flinched, remembering the recent display of his dominance. "Kidding! I was totally kidding. SFW only."
Mika didn't look up from her sewing. But her voice, when she spoke, was soft and surprisingly calm. "We should offer some bundles," she said, her voice a little shaky and breathless, but her mind was as sharp as ever. "A 'Main Wife' package with mostly Yuna's merch. And..."
Her sewing slowed for a moment. She looked up, her eyes finding Makoto. A mischievous, suggestive smile spread across her face. "...And a 'Secret Menu' option," she whispered. "For our most dedicated supporters."
Makoto snorted, a playful glint in his eye. "Dedicated fans? Do you think we're an idol group and not just three amateur cosplayers, Miss Mika?"
Mika's smile faltered, replaced by a look of wide-eyed confusion. "An idol group?" she repeated softly. "Oh, no. I just meant..."
He sighed fondly as he patted his thighs. "You think I don't know what you plan to put in that Secret Menu option. Come here!"
Her explanation died in her throat as he patted his thighs. It was a simple gesture. But in the charged language of this room, it was a command, a summons.
A deep blush spread from her neck to the tips of her ears. Her hands, which had been so steady, began to tremble again. She set down her sewing with slow, deliberate care.
Then she stood up. Her movements were unsteady, shaky, as if she were a newborn foal learning to walk. She was completely naked and vulnerable. She walked towards him slowly, never breaking his gaze. Her eyes, wide and shining, were locked on his.
She stopped right in front of him. She didn't dare to sit, just waited.
"...Yes, darling?" she whispered, her voice small.
Yuna and Ayane watched, a silent, captivated audience. The hum of the sewing machine was the only sound in the room.