Chapter 735 – Dangling Tree (3) DeepL

-Creak, creak, creak.

The planks at the bottom, bearing the weight of two people, swayed as if they might break.

A woman’s shadow bent up and down on the other side of the bonfire.
The bead on my thigh, gripping the back of my head, obediently locked eyes with me and whimpered.

“Mmm…mmm. Mmm.”

The marble’s fleshy underbelly.
It bounced up and down in the hollow space between her pelvises as the meaty mass bounced back and forth.

-Gurgle, gurgle!

“Am I having your child?”
“No one knows that.”
“But it’s been four hours now. It wouldn’t be strange to have a child in my womb.”

I dryly spit out the facts with a face that says I don’t know anything.

I squeeze the bead’s butt with my heavily colored hands.

-Crunch, crunch.

Like an onahole modeled after a torso, I lift and lower my body, wrapping my hands around the bottom of her ass and thighs.

Her vaginal opening is stretched wide.
Accepting the cock, her cunt follows my gesture and sucks out the male’s sperm without resistance.

“…Mmm. Mmm.”

After gasping for air from the heaviness of my cock, Kusumu grabbed my wrist with a weak hand.
Ignoring his slight gesture of resistance, I hugged him tightly and ejaculated.

-Come!

I thrust my hips inside him, sending my seed inside him.
The bead, whose eyes had opened from being handled for so long, asked me.

“Ugh. I guess I’ve done enough if the purpose is to conceive a seed…?”
“Not yet, robot. Put your pussy up.”
“I’m not a robot, and if it’s for the sake of the child’s health, we should stop here… ugh.”

Why worry about an unfertilized child.

His cock, swollen from the cum and juices in his cunt, rubbed against Bead’s honeyed thighs.
Nuzzling against the sweet feel of her slick thighs.

-Shoot, shoot.

Pre-cum spurts from his hole and pours down his erect cock.

“Spread your arms.”
“…??”

He doesn’t, so I reach down and grab his arms, pulling them up.
I bring my face to a pale pink, moist armpit. My excitement doubles at the subtle scent of human flesh.

Mmm.
Haa.

Sigh….

“…Why are you smelling my armpits?”
“Because I like it.”
“You mean…smell my armpits?”

The robot marbles didn’t seem to understand this at all.

“Is that weird?”
“Strange, yes. The armpits of woodmen are a bit foul from the waste they produce, especially since I’m close to the human factor, so it’s more of a foul smell than a fresh one.”
“You don’t have to elaborate.”
“Okay.”

Speaking of smells, even I don’t like all of them.
I can’t stand the smell of wood, especially when it’s strongly scented, and I’ve been known to be repulsed by things that are actually much fresher than human odors.

That’s not to say I like the smell of everyone’s flesh.
Technically, it’s more like I like the smell of pretty human flesh.

“…You mean, I’m pretty?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I am pretty. I know it’s not easy to be recognized by the strongest man in the world. I am pretty.”

I’m not kidding, but there’s a little bit of beading going on.
I looked at the self-absorbed bead and asked for one request.

“Can you do the same thing with both hands in a v-joint?”
“…?”

I didn’t know what to say, but I did, and she made a V with her hands and brought them to her cheeks.

“I’m pretty…?”

This is not bad.
I lunge forward and quickly wiggle my penis against the bead’s thigh.

-Slick, slick.

Tinkle, tinkle.

The bead, whose finger poked my cheek at the suddenness of the action, squinted and looked at my lower half.

“Are you horny, then why…. Ouch.”

I ejaculated.
The bead, still hugging me, looked at me in surprise.

A generous amount of cum dripped down my inner thighs. She spread her own thighs on top of me and watched the cum flow.

“Isn’t this an act that has nothing to do with procreation?”
“This time it was for pleasure.”

Though it had been for pleasure the whole time.
Bead tilted her head, pouted, and then slid back into my arms, as if she didn’t think it was a problem.

She laid down, completely relaxed, like a puppy lying down.
The mucus on her inner thighs, glimpsed, seemed to paint a picture of this dawn’s journey.

“Chest.”
“…….”

He doesn’t answer, but slowly holds out his chest.
Leaning back against the wall and clutching the beads, I spent some time cupping my chest again.

“Judging by the habits you’ve retained, the memories etched into your body must be intact.

The subtle sway of her hips during sex was just like the beads.

-Pinch.

After being held all evening, I pinched the nipple that was out. Her eyes closed, she flinched.

“…Mmm.”

This time, she seemed to like it more than it hurt.

“It’s worth all the coloring I’ve been doing all night.

At this rate, I might be able to get over the anhedonia in a month or two.

I’d have to find the memory first, but…. To be honest, I wonder if even hard beads have a little bit of sentiment.

‘I’d rather have this in a circle…. What should I call it?

Marble. 2.
So is this a marble?

I think about it for a second, but I can already feel the cold stares of my lovers.

“…….”

He looked up at my face, and I realized he had a strange expression on his face.

“What. Why. What.”
“He looked like he was thinking something terrible.”
“How the hell do you know what that is.”
“I just, I felt…. ugh. It hurt. It hurts.”

I pinch her nipple, and a soft moan escapes.
Still, she doesn’t pull away from my arms, like an obedient puppy.

“That’s enough, sleep.”
“…I can’t sleep, I have this wonderful feeling of a foreign body in my lower half. Tell me a funny story.”
“No. Am I your species?”
“I think males are supposed to be considerate, in addition to saying nice things to their mothers.”

What kind of bitch doesn’t have kids….

What a bitch with no mourning, what a bitch with no mourning, what a bitch with no mourning, what a bitch with no mourning.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him, but then I felt Bead’s fingers on my cheek.

“What are you doing?”

-Thud. Thud.

The bead pressed against my cheek.

“Why are you leaving?”
“Because I still have a lot of regrets.”
“What regrets?”

I wonder if I really can’t sleep.
I sigh and finally answer its persistence.

“I have a lover, I have a family, all of whom I have to protect, and I’m the outward king of a country. Does that still not explain it?”
“Yes. You were in the midst of Engahero’s magic when it unfolded. You had plenty of time to get away, so why did you come here?”
“I told you, I came to get you out.”
“…That’s the strange thing. According to you, I betrayed you. Why would you want to bring me out?”

I replied bluntly.

“Because I like the taste of pussy.”
“…My pussy?”

It’s annoying to say the least.
To put it bluntly, I hated the idea of accepting an externally imposed fate.

The damned kites are always weighing me and what I hold dear, trying to get me to give up.
This was especially true of rhododendrons and mountain lactation, and now the beads.

“Are you saying ……I’m your precious?”
“A little bit. A cheap toy I used to play with as a kid. Well, it’s mine anyway, so it’s kind of like that when someone else takes care of it.”

Bead’s lips quirk up.
He seems a little wistful about the robotic subject.

“It must be frustrating for others.”

When you tried to save Sansuyu.
Sun, Aori, and the rest of the teachers ripped me apart.
That one girl, frustrated and screaming, urged me to choose the other way, because it was the way for me.

It was the same when I ran to save the Master who was about to abandon me.
Worldsun or Flower had forced that kind of choice on me, to the point where it was excruciating.

‘It’s the same this time.

Angajero placed the orb on the scale, trying to take my life.

“It won’t be, and you’ll live.”
“You’re sure?”
“Uh.”

Sure.
I knew it, but I went in.

“It’s just, I don’t think I’m wired to live in frustration. Instead, if I can help someone achieve a purpose through my struggles, there’s nothing more satisfying.”
“……I have no purpose.”
“You said you’d find a flower word.”
“Finding them is impossible. Because we are abandoned shepherds.”

That one, I honestly don’t understand.

“Isn’t it kind of natural that you don’t have a flower language?”
“What?”

Who decides what flowers are called?

While some trees and plants have traditional flower names, many newer plants don’t have a proper flower name.

In this world, the flower names represent the symbolism and personality of the carpenter and the story behind them.

It is clear that the flower name itself contains the past history of the grower’s genealogy.

“You’re the one who fell victim to breeding, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”

This means that there is no story to be told.

“In my world, flower words are not important.”

Books are written or translated about flowers and flower language, with new additions and variations by the authors.
Or they are published by the companies that developed them.
In many cases, flower words are forced into circulation in order to increase consumption, and in many cases, they have been co-opted from literature and movies.

“I don’t mean to disrespect you, but it’s no wonder there’s no flower language because they failed to develop a variety. You’re looking for something that never existed in the first place.”
“Are you saying that ……, the flower language, never existed?”
“Yes.”

I wander around looking for words that don’t exist.
All the shepherds trapped in this “compost bin” were wandering around and eating each other for the same reason.

“I am… then for what?”

There were no words to answer that.

If I had to find one,
it would be a cliché, a tired old cliché, a cliché that everyone could say.

The flowery words are what you look for.
The words that everyone can say, but have no responsibility for, linger in my mouth and die.

“Well.”

The answer I came up with was just as unnourishing.

“Empty?”
“…I don’t know that emotion.”
“You feel sad and lonely, but not this?”
“Just a little bit, I guess, empty. Hold it for a moment.”

I hugged her and closed the buttons on her shirt one by one.
Her naked breasts slipped into the shirt, and her pretty face came into view. The non-naked bead had lost its vulgarity and retained its sculptural beauty.

“If you put a slightly literary spin on it, you could take it differently.”
“What’s literary?”

I asked, lightly dismissing the bead’s question.

“If you’re looking for a flower, you’re looking to inscribe your life somewhere else, I suppose. You’re looking for something worth living for.”
“……?”
“And then it’s passed on to someone else, put in their mouth, and it becomes a flower word.”

I don’t know the culture of this world, but I don’t know it very well either.
What I do know is that if you don’t have a flower language, you don’t have a meaningful contribution to the world.
On the contrary, if you have a flower language, you have a lot to say to the world.
Therefore, whether it was Se-Young or Azalea, it could be that she was very attached to the flower language and her personality followed suit.

“If you go outside, you might be able to find that flower or something.”
“…You mean outside.”
“Do you understand?”

The bead was silent for a long moment. It stared at me.
Its eyes, dry from prolonged exposure to the campfire, glistened like jewels with the slightest hint of moisture.

“I think I understood. I think I understood… a little… that I had betrayed you.”
“Suddenly?”
“I know you don’t usually say things like that to women you’re not involved with.”
“…I just needed to know.”
“I don’t remember, I’m sorry.”

There’s nothing to be sorry about.
I shrug and close my eyes. Bead’s hand squirmed and wrapped around my waist, hugging me.

“…Do you want to do it again, more?”
“What.”

Bead’s hand strokes my groin.
It’s dried up, and I’m mesmerized by her caress.

“Did you say you wanted to stop, or did it actually feel good?”
“No. It doesn’t feel good or bad.”
“Then why.”

Bead hung her head, still not quite understanding.
She lowered her skirt, expressionless, the curve of her pelvis mesmerizing.

Marbles said.

“Just.”

Just isn’t a reason.

“I don’t mind, but…. As long as you’re happy, I’d like to see your face one more time.”

I stared at the marble for a moment, speechless.

“Shall we?”
“Yes.”

Shadows reflected in the roaring campfire.
Soon after, the furious movements of the two men played out, once again in black and white.