The Angel of Lust (Part 2) (64)

64. Most of the time, Ming didn't want her image to be "overly imaginative." Perhaps it was simply that Si really liked ruins, and the scene was taken from certain paintings or old photographs; dreams randomly combine materials in the mind, not always reflecting any particularly profound experiences or inner thoughts; thinking about this, Ming also felt that even if she had the chance to remain conscious in her dreams, she didn't need to investigate seriously like a real dream interpreter. The sparsely decorated wooden cradle was less than Ming's knees high. So low, she almost mistook it for a cat or dog food bowl; after all, it was a dream, and anything could happen. Until she noticed the very large gaps between the wooden planks and saw an extremely soft blanket inside. Judging from these details and the overall size, it was suitable for a baby to lie on their back. The curved structure below seemed designed for swaying from side to side; at the very bottom was a pile of leaves, serving the same purpose as cotton or feathers. The fact that it managed to balance thickness and softness in this way showed its very ancient design logic. The cradle before her didn't appear overly primitive, but it still looked like it had been moved from a museum. Ming found no screws or metal plates used for reinforcement. The edges were slightly worn, and the paint lacked shine; these signs indicated it wasn't brand new. However, there were no signs of insect damage, making it quite well-preserved. The overall structure seemed very sturdy, unlikely to crumble with a few shakes. Its simple yet sophisticated design immediately captivated Ming. She longed to take it home, but that was impossible; even if she examined it closely and it became a long-term memory, without the ability to create precise compositions, she could only describe it verbally. The charcoal-black wood, the incredibly fine and soft milky-white blanket, and the pile of freshly picked green leaves, each tinged with gray, yellow, and silver in the sunlight; the scene was beautiful, but Ming didn't need to get closer to still feel the slight haziness of a dream. After all, it was an object from a dream, and the details were best left unexamined. If asked how Honey made this, Ming thought it might be asking too much; she hadn't heard of any tentacle creature being particularly skilled in woodworking, and Honey, who had once made handles for oil lamps, probably wouldn't develop that skill again. The cradle before her was very charming, and Ming thought it would be perfectly fine as pure decoration; placed by the window, complemented by the view outside; whether day or night, sunny or rainy, it would bring a special ambiance to the room. Some people are really willing to spend a lot of money to buy such things in high-end boutiques. The leaves underneath didn't look dirty either, and the substances they emitted seemed to help children grow healthily; Ming admitted that even if she liked this cradle, ignoring scientific evidence was still absurd. In fact, she had originally wanted to prepare a much larger cradle for Lu. Ming thought the white wooden object could be folded; its height was certainly above an adult's knee, its classic design and extremely sturdy, making it a visual focal point in any room. They'd had something like this before, both she and her sister had used it. For many years, this not-so-cheap modern item sat deep in the warehouse, most of its functions unchanged since it was first bought, just covered in dust. But recently, it was taken out and given away; it was Dad or Mom who decided, and Ming didn't know whether the recipient was a relative or a neighbor. This gave her an excuse to buy a new one. Lu seemed to be growing up quickly, and deciding to have her first child with Si was still a long way off. As for He Ni—"No," Ming said, shaking her head vigorously, "don't think about it too much." Those goals were still quite far off, Ming thought; if she was too embarrassed to talk to them, she could write them down in her notebook first. Ming rarely studied clothing like girls her age, and besides that, she didn't usually care much about unusual natural landscapes; these very strange elements in her dreams, she thought, mainly came from Mi's dreams. Just now, they had fallen asleep almost simultaneously. Ming guessed that even without magic, tentacle creatures could control their sleep better than humans. Suddenly, the cradle began to shake. It sounded more like an animal had touched it than like the wind was blowing. About half a minute later, a pair of tiny hands emerged from the cradle. At first, Ming thought she was seeing things. But a few seconds later, a pale face appeared from under the blanket. It was a baby, and judging from its very fine tentacle hair, it was still a tentacle creature. The child's skin was whiter than whipped cream, with a few streaks of cherry pink appearing on its cheeks and joints. It was Lu! Ming thought, there was no mistake. When Mi transformed into a tentacle-clad form, she had used clairvoyance on Ming. The Lu they had seen that time was almost identical to the Lu before them. The one in the dream was larger; was it set up so that several months had passed since she was born? Ming, speechless with surprise, slowly swallowed as she looked closely. At this moment, Lu's eyes were, of course, closed. She was sleeping peacefully in her cradle, her breathing extremely even, almost silent; lying on her back, she moved very little with her mouth and limbs, showing no sign that she might become a lively adult, causing Si and Ni so much trouble. Ming wanted to see her eyes and teeth, but he couldn't wake her for such a simple and selfish reason. Although Ming often thought about "what would be the most fun thing to do" after getting to know the tentacle creatures, no matter how playful he was, he couldn't ignore the common sense of motherhood; if he made such an absurd mistake, Ming thought, he wouldn't deserve them. Si? Her actions were often even more exaggerated than Ming's. Ming believed that if he and Si had a child, Si would act like a good father or a good mother without anyone reminding her; Ming thought, who is the father and who is the mother, they'll have a lot to argue about later. Although it should be decided by who provides the sperm, most of the time, Ming would choose to give in. Objectively speaking, Si is more suited to be a mother; petite yet lively, she can easily connect with children. Recently, Ming has also begun to see Si as his woman rather than his man. Whether this is good or bad, Ming isn't sure. Si, on the other hand, would wholeheartedly agree, as she has long insisted on being Ming's wife. Otherwise, constantly switching roles would be quite interesting; but Ming thinks that would be troublesome for the child. After waking up, she had a chance to discuss similar topics with Si, but— "Wait a minute," Ming said, her lips slightly parted. Lost in her emotions and various fragmented thoughts, she overlooked another crucial point. If the dream's setting was that she had already given birth to Lu, then what exactly is the child in her womb now—? Suddenly, as if responding to Ming's earlier question, a sharp, aching pain surged from deep within her abdomen. Her thoughts interrupted, her legs slightly bent. As she began to grit her teeth, she seemed to hear a "crack" sound; in that instant of no more than half a second, something split open; not elsewhere, but inside her own abdomen, like the feeling of a ruptured seminal vesicle, but the fluid that flowed out was thinner and lighter; within seconds, a considerable amount of clear liquid flowed from her genitals, wetting her inner thighs, knees, calves, and even ankles. Somewhat tense, Ming calmed down completely after a few deep breaths. She slowly knelt on the ground, then slowly leaned back, until her back and buttocks touched the ground, before lying down completely. In the process, she crushed a lot of moss. As a result, several pieces of her clothing were soaked, but she didn't feel cold; on the contrary, she began to feel hot. Fortunately, the robe wasn't difficult to remove. Ming thought, bending her arms; after a few seconds of consideration, she pulled a few pieces of fabric aside, just enough to expose her breasts and genitals. Ming thought that what was flowing out now must be amniotic fluid. Lying on her back, the constant pain caused her to reflexively raise her lower body. Before long, not only her legs, but also her buttocks and even her sides were soaked with amniotic fluid and moss. It felt as if several wisps of heat were floating in the air, originating from her genitals; the image was so exaggerated that she almost laughed before she could even confirm if she was seeing things. Her cervix was already dilating, and Ming thought that in a few seconds, the baby's head would protrude from the cervix. She wasn't sure if the baby's position was normal, but at least from the beginning until now, she hadn't felt much twisting or getting stuck. This impact was different from when the silk and mud entered. Ming hadn't forgotten that the experience in the dream wasn't real. It was just that she easily became serious when childbirth was mentioned. In the dream, Ming was probably responsible for regenerating some tentacle creature inside her; like when she treated Lu, which one would it be? Most likely, Mi thought, after all, she was currently connected to Mi in a dream. If key passages in her dream reflect Ming's inner desires, then the current situation can only be a natural pregnancy; she has a wealth of fantasies on this topic, many of which she doesn't plan to reveal anytime soon. Currently, Ming doesn't know who the father of the child is. Even with many variables, she...But she wasn't so nervous. A smile played on her lips as Akane, sucking on her right thumb, pondered various possibilities: Whose child could it be? First, she thought it was Silk's. However, Akane's main companion before bed tonight was Honey; though she didn't feel much anymore, she was probably still sleeping in Honey's arms. Constantly smelling Honey's scent and touching her body would influence the content of her dream; whether for amusement or simply to suppress the pain, Akane tried to imagine the possible developments. If it was Honey's child, that would feel wonderful too; although the outlines of the tail and four legs weren't clear yet, Akane was already looking forward to seeing the child's furry head emerge and give birth to a wolf or dog—and it was a human, a sixteen-year-old high school girl at that. For most people, this concept was physiologically unacceptable. They couldn't possibly see it with their own eyes, let alone experience it firsthand; and if they did have the chance to experience it—even just being in such a dream—they would only feel disgusted and incredibly humiliated, right? Akane thought, a smile playing on her lips. Once again, she didn't feel lonely or uneasy about discovering she was in the minority. On the contrary, she felt extremely happy. A strange and intense sense of victory made her unconsciously grit her teeth when she smiled. As for shame, Ming thought, since no one was around, even if she was torn to shreds by all sorts of twisted desires, it wouldn't matter, right? In many ways, she was already far ahead of girls her age. Ming, with her tongue sticking out, was ready to lick her newborn fetus like a female dog; just imagining that scene almost brought her to orgasm. She also admitted that she had indulged in similar fantasies before meeting Honey. It would be very interesting if the child in her womb was Mud or Ling; they were more repressed than Silk and rarely spoke out as boldly as Honey. It was probably Mud or Ling's momentary impulse that led to this consequence; Ming didn't want to hear them apologize or say anything expressing regret. When welcoming a new life, besides a cautious attitude, a cheerful mood is also crucial. A mother-to-be doesn't want a scene of sorrow or conflict around her during childbirth; even so, Ming couldn't help but imagine them nearly fainting from tension, and even chuckled to herself at the thought. Waves of pain caused Ming's lips to droop rapidly. Although it was uncomfortable, it wasn't enough to make her scream; gritting her teeth slightly and closing her eyes tightly made her feel better; even if it became more painful, a few groans were enough to restore her breathing rhythm. In fact, since the beginning, Ming's brow and jaw hadn't been furrowed so much; aside from the pain, she felt everything else was easier than the first time she passed the string. Most of the time, Ming considered herself a strong person. She remembered that even in kindergarten, she wasn't a crybaby. Aside from casual squabbles, even when she had a real conflict with a classmate, she always managed to be the one standing tall until the very end. Even with a deep bruise, she would still roar like a wild beast, as if she were a wild animal, intentionally treating the school like a jungle or a vast plain. This made many teachers headaches and caused many classmates to keep their distance from her. Indeed, Ming thought, for a time, she often felt like a brave warrior, although in the long run, it wasn't a very good investment. After starting elementary school, she never cried at all, a record that surpassed many boys. Of course, when her knee or toe hit the edge of a desk or chair, her tear ducts would become uncontrollable. Even so, Ming believed all the teachers would agree that she whimpered less often than many of the children they had cared for. Not cute at all, Ming thought, sighing. She admitted that being too stubborn was more harmful than beneficial to her physical and mental health. Although she had once been proud of her record, she now didn't want to pass this personality on to her children. She would rather have a crybaby than a stubborn and unruly brat. After entering junior high school, Ming frequently had disagreements with her classmates. She couldn't remember most of the details of these conflicts; sometimes, not only she but also the teachers who came to handle the situation had difficulty figuring out who was right and who was wrong. Ming was only certain that some people had really bad personalities. And as the grades increased, the number of students who wanted to have conflicts with others also increased year by year; perhaps it was to relieve the pressure of schoolwork, Ming thought, or perhaps they were just too idle; not good at winning arguments with a few words, she often had to rely on her feet to get back at them; and after meeting Si, she especially wanted to change her rough and uncivilized image. Ming thought that if she hadn't thought about toning herself down after entering high school, Si probably wouldn't have approached her. Although Ming's behavior had changed considerably, it was practically impossible to completely erase her past self during childbirth; even without any real aggression, her expression and breathing at this moment were far removed from the image of a weak woman or even a victim. Clearly, Ming subconsciously believed these were the best options when facing adversity. For a moment, she found it difficult to completely resist. Ming certainly wished she could be more adorable, but she couldn't fake it, because it didn't suit her personality. And her recent experiences alone were enough to convince her that she would give birth in a state of immense joy. But, Ming thought, if the neighbors heard, they would be furious.Even so, some people might still mistake her moans for lewd cries; there's no way around it, when she's too excited, it doesn't sound painful enough. Only Lu is beside her, allowing Ming to scream freely. She might wake Lu, and then she'd have to take care of two babies. That would be incredibly embarrassing, Ming thought, sticking out her tongue. Even so, she hoped someone would film these scenes. In many cases, people who never usually take photos would rush to get a camera when their child is about to be born; whether by buying, borrowing, or digging up antiques from storage; after all, it's such an important moment, it would be a shame not to record it. Ming thought that if she could face a mirror now, the scene would be quite spectacular; or perhaps, she would be horrified by her own bloody appearance. It's all bleeding, Ming thought, but compared to losing her virginity, childbirth is clearly more meaningful; this is the process of truly becoming a woman, and deciding to enter this stage had taken so much effort; thinking of this, she began to hope that this wasn't a dream. The current sensation alone is far more complicated than expelling silk and mud; the process must be no different from actual childbirth, Ming thought. If it weren't in the flesh chamber, but in a room, it would be incredibly difficult to clean up. She was also curious about how her body would react in reality; she might move her limbs several times, but not to the point of arching her body. She didn't want to disturb anyone, preferably not even talking in her sleep. For at least two days, Ming intended to treat what she experienced in the dream as a secret between her and Mi. The dream experience was just a bit intense; it shouldn't cause Lu to give birth prematurely. When connected by magic, the impact of the dream on both bodies should be far less than when one person is dreaming alone. So, to calm down, Ming thought, there's nothing to be afraid of. First, she told herself to stop thinking about horror movie plots. However, whether in a dream or in reality, some mental preparation is always good. Before Mi appeared, Ming had relatively little information. It should be a healthy baby, Ming thought, placing her hands on her stomach. Human fetuses are too fragile; giving birth to a tentacle-like creature would put her at ease. Ming stopped clenching her teeth and instead gently bit her lips. The next second, she opened her right eye. A gray, sticky mass had just parted his labia; it was confirmed not to be a seminal vesicle, but it didn't seem human either. This energetic child seemed to be planning to crawl out on his own. Knowing that he was so healthy made Ming's lips curl into a smile again. As before, Ming wasn't facing a mirror, and her view was blocked by her own stomach. Her vagina was stretched wide, and her labia and legs were spread wide apart; as her stomach began to sink, the pain gradually decreased. For Ming, the joy of welcoming a new life far outweighed the pain of seeing her body change; her mindset wouldn't change during pregnancy or childbirth. Although it wasn't easy, it made her so happy that her teeth chattered. Within half a minute, Ming could see the baby's upper body; it was hairy and had paw pads, much like a canine. At this point, she couldn't be sure if he wasn't breathing; although his mouth and nose were sticky, at least for now, he didn't seem to be choking. If the baby's trachea were blocked by thick liquid, Ming would immediately perform artificial respiration, even if she hadn't recovered her strength. About five seconds later, the sticky, wet sounds of "splashing" and "popping" rang out again; the fetus, which had only emerged halfway, immediately fell to the ground. He was sticky all over, with a lot of blood clinging to his fur; a white-red umbilical cord was still pulsating. Ming had lost a lot of blood, but wasn't weak enough to be completely exhausted. This was a good sign, she thought, breathing slowly. As long as the bleeding didn't continue, it wouldn't get too serious. The baby, much like a puppy, had a lot of silver-gray fur. Is she Ming and Mi's child, or—a clone of Mi, or perhaps not a clone at all, but Mi's true self manifesting in a younger form? In any case, the Mi before her was even smaller than the Mi she had seen before. Was Mi like this when she was born? Ming thought, it's so much fun to actually see her! Compared to those important things that can't be determined in a short time, it's better to decide what to call this child first. Ming lowered her head and said, "I'll call you Little Mi for now." It was a girl, with a high-pitched voice, a round belly, a very thin tail, and a rather short mouth; Ming carefully admired her appearance, while at the same time, the bright red umbilical cord continued to pulsate. Perhaps she could cut it later, Ming thought, biting her lip lightly. Actually, she didn't really understand, but the thought that some actions would inevitably lead to bleeding made her think it would be better to do it later. Little Mi, still lying on the ground, exposed her belly to the left. Although she hadn't stood up yet, she had already begun to stretch her body. Little Honey, unable to speak yet, hadn't even opened her eyes. After about a minute, she slightly raised her head and tried to open her mouth wide. It looked a bit like she was yawning, and it was truly— "So cute!" Ming couldn't help but exclaim, then quickly covered her mouth. Ming's voice echoed in the distance, but Lu remained undisturbed. In fact, Lu, sleeping even more soundly than most babies, hadn't even twitched an eyebrow. Ming knew she should act more serious. But she couldn't help it; she was just too happy. The delivery had gone smoothly, and both mother and child were healthy—that alone was worth celebrating. Of course, she would treat Little Honey with care. Even if it was a dream, she would act like a responsible mother, both internally and externally; although she had emphasized this many times, the overflowing joy inevitably made Ming's expression seem somewhat frivolous. Experiencing something like this in a dream made her feel like she had won; anxiety and other emotions were absent again, and there was no postpartum fatigue. Often, the sense of touch in dreams is very blurry, especially just now. The feeling of giving birth almost confused her with the expulsion of the seminal vesicle; reality shouldn't be like that, Ming thought, her lips drooping. Although the looseness of her belly was very realistic, she still felt a little disappointed; this half-baked experience was far from her ideal rehearsal of childbirth. It was precisely because Ming's consciousness was clear that she had such feelings. She had heard many women describe the childbirth process as anything but pleasant; if they knew how painful it was, they wouldn't have wanted to have children in the first place; this was the most common statement, showing just how terrifying natural childbirth is for mothers. Ming should feel somewhat relieved that she hadn't almost fainted from the pain just now. Afterwards, she thought that if she only felt satisfied when it was painful enough, she would obviously be too pathetic. Little Honey slowly moved her four legs, somewhat like stretching. Less than a minute later, she rolled her body to the left, as if trying to stand up. But as a newborn, she had very little strength; even when she trembled all over and lifted her belly off the ground, she would fall back to the ground in a few seconds. A child like this should be in her mother's arms. Ming reached out and tried to lift little Mi. Her body was extremely soft, yet also very strong. Ming was still a little nervous when she held her in her arms. During this process, Ming's arms moved slightly towards the center. Inevitably, she squeezed her breasts; a few drops of milk first flowed to the lower edge of her breasts, then down her belly and groin; those that dripped directly from her nipples landed on her knees and the backs of her feet; they were warm at first, but quickly cooled; each drop was very thick, indicating a high fat content. It was more like natural lactation after pregnancy, she thought, since it wasn't like being bitten by a vulva, unable to spurt out more than ten streams of milk at once. As Ming lifted Little Honey to her chest, she tried gently kneading it with her right index finger and thumb. A series of hissing sounds rang out, and several white parabolas landed outside the light, almost hitting Dew in the cradle. To avoid waste, Ming quickly removed her right hand; even without continued pressure, milk sprayed from both sides for almost ten more seconds before stopping; the white mist wasn't as spectacular as what she'd seen in the meat chamber. Ming thought that only about a cupful had fallen into the soil. The milk remaining in the mammary glands was at least ten times what had been wasted; what structural changes had occurred to these breasts after Dew bit them? Ming should have worried about this much earlier, but had inadvertently put it off for too long. In short, Ming thought, Little Honey would definitely have enough to drink. More detailed questions could be asked later; whether she could take care of Little Honey was Ming's biggest concern at this moment. She believed that in a few seconds, all the mist would dissipate. In this completely dark environment, with the midday sun shining directly down, the mist, even though it had become quite thin, was still more noticeable than the dust particles. In reality, the smell of breast milk is very sweet. The version in her dream was much milder; unless you sniffed it hard, it almost smelled like water vapor; that way it would be more palatable, she thought, without burdening the tentacle creatures. The tentacle creatures, on the other hand, hadn't made any comments whatsoever.So far, only she has complained about such negative opinions. Even if the psychologist didn't say it, Ming knew that this part truly reflected her desires. Lowering her head, she licked her left palm; after confirming that there was nothing wrong with the milk, she tried to put her left nipple towards Xiao Mi's mouth.

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The Angel of Lust (Part 2) (64)

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