The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today
Chapter 54: Cherries Blissed!

Chapter 54: Cherries Blissed!

As a plate of cookies and two cups of tea were delivered upon their table, the automaton girl cracked her limbs, bent stretched and....cracked, slowness that would have the (past) grandpa Demond cacked before her plastic pumps settled on the seats before them.

"M-my god...somehow you have worse symptoms of <flooded> than my friend." Demond sighed, picking up a piece of cookie, observing curiously the color of pink surrounding the cookie, before frowning. "How many years have it been? What numbers of records and datas have you tried to clean?"

"REPORT: This machine’s well oiled and fine! It has been 45 years since our home became a swimming ground for mermaids and water spirits! 20 years since the reported <main server> dies at the hand of Adalalon the Tyrant!" The utter high-pitchness and the unchanging emotions only belied the rotted cogs that functions barely to register sadness, a broken child abandodned by her home and her owner. "And it only has benn....30 YEARS! 30 years since the symptoms of <flooded> turned me into a half-child! Number of records and datas....erasure has started from the 21st record of the first human who visited our Dwarvern Home, all the way to the 89, 579th record of the <main server>’s destruction!"

"...so you don’t remember Zero, huh?"

The frown didn’t deepen to a scowl, but loosened like a string cut for a silent acceptance. <Flooded>, or flooding by junk data as her old friend would put it. When a dwarven automaton left their home for too long without access to the <Motherbrain> to assist in evaluating and clearing junk datas in her mind, paired with the ’forced eviction’ that came when their home is literally, well, ’flooded’, most of the automatons now wandered around the Kingdom of Alakarans, some nameless with too much junk datas become crazed wildlings and were treated as beasts to slay on an adventurer’s quest board, others remain in hiding like this elf in the shop, and some....like Zero did, became an adventurer so that they would put the crazed automatons to rest, only forming a party when enough trusts can be spared, ad Demond happened to be one of the honoured ones chosen by Zero.

"Have you given yourself a name, brat?"

"This subject requests you cease to call me brat!" The tone unchanged, yet the combination of words once again shifted from an excited child to a loyal minister, an illustration of the utter carnage that splitted even the ability of speech <flooding> marred by batches of meaningless processing and inefficient routing.

"Yes yes...uh, don’t tell me you named yourself as a number...?"

"Hell yeah! This woman’s name is 556-09-30. One of the many mass automatons created for basic functions such as cooking and making teas or coffees!"

"....ugh." The awkwardness of the doll being weirdly prideful a batch of series number as a ’name’ given to her by her mother (or <motherbrain>) exceeded her cpu processing, as she bit onto the cookie with a newfound vigor, the purposeless code hammering away her sympathy just as it chipped the sanity away from the human-like doll.

"So uh...I’m just going to call you 556 like I did Zero. Let’s get this out of the way, and there’s a flavour I want to exchange with you about the vamp-"

Then, the Demond felt her stomach growled in....mewling, her limbs bubbled limpiness as her throat felt hoarse and rusty from the cookies she has just consumed, before a hitched breath rushed out, her cheeks burning an Everflame Mountain’s hotness, a gutwrenching storm brewing her body in magma from inside-out.

"Wha-what in the..."

Realising the cookie might be poisoned, Adrei beside her quickly snatched it away from Demond’s fingertip, only to find a....nonchalent pink hue around the cookie, with the equally nonchalent smile from the automaton opposite to them, paired with a not-so nonchalent Demond beside her, as she began panting desires and hungers, not for sustenance, but for *sustenance*.

"Customer! I’m glad you react very well to our newest product!" The automatons exclaimed, no signs of widening her eyes or tilting unnaturally to meet Demond’s gaze, only excited creaks for the product working to shop’s flavour. "Heart Cookie allows you to immerse and lock in the moment you find most memorable and tender for yourself! Some other customers treat nicely as a succubus’s drug so-"

"Wait wait wait, h-hold on for a second..."

Demond hiccuped, as an unbearable itchiness tinted her ’cherries’, and an insatisable pain coiled on her pillows, as she glared at 556 in hopes to listen twice to an answer she had in mind. "By-by succubus’s drug, you don’t mean..."

Her pillows ached as they brushed against the fabrics, the cherries a incensed spiralling her further into itchiness. THe panting, blushing mess of a Demond glanced upon her partner, her palm almost reached out for the shocked Adrei’s hands instinctively, telling her circle them, embrace them, knead them like a baker would to a bread. She hiccuped again, resisted every ounce of syllables in her damning throat, before mustering a smile to the unfeeling automaton, who sadly, could not process enough datas to comprehend her utter helplessness, as well as the utterly, darkening embarassment that came with ’the most tender moment’ being that her pillowed cherries being cherished upon.

"Is-is there a....is there perhaps a cure to this!"

To which the Andriod used every inches of her well-oiled limbs to lean forward, muttering a single, " Nope!"

"....ah, fuck." A curse came from the witch’s dried, now even the lines of meat wished to be pampered and molded into Adrei’s lips and shape. Demond’s bottom buckled, Miss Berry lulling a child’s cradle on the cavern as the rain plattered on the edges, threatening to spill out a flood. Another kind of flood spilled from Demond’s eyes, as with unshed tears, she beckoned towards Adrei, who froze upon the bizzare situation of her wife’s switch being turned on by a single cookie. Yet she nodded before she tugged her arms under her knees, standing while carrying her to her chest, nodding to the Andriod with smiley eyes of ’we will talk later’, before they bolted out of the shop, eager to resolve the trouble up there and down there.

The wide-eyed Android simply froze. It seems a new set of junk datas have been found, otherwise, there is no way the customer felt discomfort or humiliation from her heart cookies! Because her heart cookies are perfect! Praised by the Queen herself! And so, as she scoured her mind for a rerouting to delete the unnecessary junk data, another customer, who has always been in the shop, emerged from the backdoor.

"Ah, customer! You’re not supposed to hide in there!"

Manasseh scowled. Ever a regular visitor and a buyer of her cookies for resale, she knew full well the percularity of her automaton friend, as she merely waved her hands. "They’re gone?"

"They are, apparently, gone! Without paying me too! What a waste...so please pay me in their stead, customer!"

...ever the more shameless merchant she is, Manasseh supposed. She sighed before sitting down at the seat Demond and Adrei just sat at, finishing the addictive cookies and tea that were just left, a casual regular day of Manasseh, and an equally casual regular day in the ’Cherry’s Bliss’ Shop.

---------------

"Adrei...put me down for now....please...."

"Not now, my love."

With speed incomprehensible to the eyes, the dragon darted from crowds to crowds in the street, her eyes darting everywhere for a suitable spot for relief. Demond’s bottom protested more, her cherries begged for attention, as the gasping breath tugged at her husband’s collar.

"Tur....turn right from here, there’s an alleyway we can use..."

"A-alleyway?" For the first time in century, the Queen stuttered at her subject’s suggestion, yet she gritted her teeth as she turned the next corner. An alleyway would do, this situation is just too....uh, urgent.

The alleyway was a microscoptic of both sunlight and shadows, each drop of warmth a mini santuary that asked for no defilement, until Demond’s feet landed upon the rough stones, panting as her cavern leaked a drop onto the santuary, unaware of her taboo-like violation.

Adrei held her in her arms, craddling from the front as she patted her behind, trying to steady her wife’s breathing. Yet her wife seeks liberation, not comfort, as her feet tiptoped and her lips collasped into Adrei’s, hungrily drinking the essence that came from the dragon’s saliva. A stutter, then a resoluted push by Adrei onto the wall scarred the witch’s back, as her husband tugged her at her throat and pulled her towards the kiss, the glistening mouths in the small light caged beasts that were released to the lights for the first time, before they tugged, stacked, bit onto each other for a desperate hunger.

The lips seperated, Demond still panting, her cavern threatened the coming of a new river as her cherries ached against her drumming heartbeats, and so she grasped Adrei’s scaled arm, before crashing it onto the pillow, the softness sinking a new morning that would soon unfold on this staged alleyway.