Your parents arrive

You sit in front of your food, stunned and silent, not consuming a morsel of the disgusting stuff.

You remain this way until your mother arrives a few minutes later, now looking completely serene and graceful, in a long white dress, and matching cape. Her huge breasts are spilling out of her dress with deep cleavage, but apart from this, she almost looks truly regal. She takes her seat across from you, and smiles with a gentle, peaceful smile.{if@ images > 1}

{if@ images != 3}{else}{endif}{endif}

In fact, she looks almost innocent! If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn't believe what she was doing just five minutes ago.

You pray that she will have the same disgusted reaction as you upon seeing her food covered in seed. But deep down, you already know that she will do no such thing.

Indeed, she just gives you a kindly glance, and waits patiently for the man of the house to arrive.

Alfonso, your father, arrives only a few moments later. He takes his place at the head of the table, his expression firm, but not fierce. After he is seated, he nods and gestures to you both.

"You may eat."

Marisa smiles warmly at him, picks up a fork, and starts tucking into a salad leaf soaked in spooge.

Alfonso cuts himself a slice of sausage, and chews away.

You stare at your horrifying platter with a dumbfounded expression.

About 30 seconds pass in awkward silence before your mother speaks.

"You're not even going to try it?" She asks politely.

For the first time in this universe, you speak. Your voice is soft and feminine, but even higher pitched than you were expecting.

"I... I... I'm not feeling hungry." You lie. In fact you feel very hungry. You wonder when was the last time Francesca ate.

-50% Endurance

Alfonso frowns, and studies you.

"Perhaps we need to have 'the talk' before the end of breakfast." He grumbles.

"Darling, I was really hoping for Francesca and I to have 'the talk' just the two of us. Woman to woman." Marisa responds delicately, before talking directly to you. "Sweetheart, won't you please just try a bit? I know it's not what you're used to, but now that you've come of age, and come back to us, this is what you're going to need to develop a taste for."

You glance nervously at your father, vividly remembering the sight of his huge load of cum gushing out of your mother.

"Whose... Whose you-know-what is it?" You hiss quietly.

"Oh!" Marisa chuckles softly, sounding relieved. "Oh! Don't worry. It's not your father's. No no no, we are in civilized society here, sweetheart. No lady interacts with their own father in that sort of... No no no, this is the wonderful work of Chef Salvazar. He really is one of the best. We are lucky to have him, truly. I would wager that you will be just as addicted to his taste as I am, in no time."

And with that, Marisa picks up her wine glass full of semen, and drinks the whole lot, swallowing and then sighing with a satisfied sound.

When she sees the disgusted expression that you can't hide from your face, she sighs, this time with mild disappointment.

"Please, sweetheart, at least have a little. For me?" She asks as warmly and lovingly as she can.