From mingling a blasphemous album about drugs, sex, and gloryholes with a hyperbolic anti-capitalistic ideology… Yes, really.
Disclaimer: This work contains adult materials including sexually explicit activities, strong language, recreational drug use, and overt political overtones. This work is not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.
Notice: This installment of TSF Series was originally written on 12/28/2019 and has since been re-edited. Typographical errors and grammatical mistakes have been corrected, certain sections have been rewritten, and minor aspects of the story have been altered.
When I started TSF Series back in May 2019, I had several ideas written down, and one of them was inspired by the comedy rap album Life in Ghostworld by GhostRappy. Particularly the tracks The Gloryhole Tutorial and Smoke Crack and Masturbate, which are about what you would expect based on the titles. I put this idea aside shortly after it was written, allowing it to gestate in my pressure cooker of a mind for several months and… things got even weirder.
I introduced a character who was on my creative backburner for a while, Milky Sunshine, but I reimagined her as a transdimensional ghost, a ghost Milky if you will. I incorporated elements of twinning, as that was something I had not explored yet. I decided that the glory hole should be a double-ender, because that seemed funnier. And I also threw in some hyperbolic politics, as I wrote this right after Natalie Rambles About 2019, so politics were still on my mind.
Or in other words, this short story is a lot of things, but that does not mean it is smart, as this is easily one of the stupidest stories I have or will ever write. You might wonder why I even decided to write this story if that is the case, and the reason is simple. TSF Series is a narrative experiment playground for me, and this is definitely playground tier stuff… which I mean in the best possible way.
TSF Series #005: Ghost Milky in… The Cookie Crumbles
V-City. A modern metropolis that boldly triumphed throughout the 20th century, cementing its place on the global scale as the next millennia dawned, and humankind was thrust into a new age of advancement and innovation. Yet as the century came into its own, the utopian hopes that once filled the minds of V-City denizens had been replaced with a scornful acceptance of a dystopian reality. Corporate avarice, a lack of regulations, and a reckless disregard expressed by a ruling class have all caused much of Terra to become desolate.
Maps had been forever changed as sea levels rose and coastal cities fell into ruin, destroying trillions in infrastructure and leaving billions to wallow in homelessness, unable to find asylum, and dying from disease and starvation. Those who perished were disposed of in toxin-rich oceans that struggled to sustain life. While those who survived were subjected to dilapidated economies, as governments were incapable of reacting to such devastation. Years of steady depowering of the governments of the world have left them without the resources to aid their citizens and, in order to prevent further destruction, they sought salvation from the only entities with power in this tattered world. The 52 Grand Order Defining Syndicates (G.O.D.S.) of Terra.
The G.O.D.S. reached out to the surviving masses, and offered them salvation… for a price. They would offer them food, shelter, and the resources needed to live, but it would come at a cost. Upon ascribing a digital signature, they would lose the rights inscribed to them by their nations, turning them into something less than a human, and legally indistinguishable corporate-owned cattle. Those who agreed to this arrangement were granted food and shelter, as denoted by contract. But they were subjected to deliberately inhuman conditions, listed on balance sheets as Fixed Assets to be depreciated, and salvaged for ‘parts’ once their performance was deemed inadequate.
At the end of June, V-City was transformed into a modern company town, leaving the local government in charge of only a paltry number of services. 10% of the population had been granted the elusive status of employment, while another 70%, dejected and unable to find work, surrendered their humanity and subjected themselves to a life of contractual servitude, unprotected by any laws. As for the remaining 20%, they were arguably subjected to the worst fate of all.
The G.O.D.S. made it a point to genocide all remaining small businesses by restricting imports and assigning the few goods that did get through with outlandish tariffs. Those who remained free were subjected to a severe lack of resources and poor living conditions that only worsened come October, where the few patches of locally grown crops died as the harsh winter came both early and aggressively.
By December, only 12% of the population remained independent of G.O.D.S., and every day for them was a struggle. But none struggled more than the harbingers of hope known as the Runners. Individuals who routinely risked their lives by conducting illegal trades with those beyond the borders of V-City, and reparating the local G.O.D.S. of their ill-gotten goods.
The Runners were celebrated for helping the free citizens of V-City survive, but their careers never lasted long. Within a matter of weeks, two things always happened. Either the security machines captured them spread throughout V-City, or they were murdered by the tumultuous weather and immense snowfall that bombarded the settlement on a daily basis, making any on-foot travel profoundly dangerous.
One of these Runners was Colin Cook, officially recognized as Citizen US-ZVC-0250008. A young man who once had everything, being the son of two high-ranking employees of a G.O.D.S. However, his parents were deemed unnecessary and expelled as part of an annual restructuring plan two years ago, causing his family to struggle. Yet, he still entered this new grimy and dreary world with far more than most were afforded. His genetics were well engineered, his body was toned, and his mind was honed from a private institution that did not conform to the contemporary educational goal of turning children into mindless and subservient slaves— the sort of cattle that G.O.D.S. loved to use and abuse.
Cook was a tall 20-something-year-old man, with a heritage dating back to the defunct nation of Scotland, and he was still an admired figure amidst his community for his work ethic and tenacity. Such as last night, when he was able to secure 40 kilos of goods while avoiding detection. As a reward for his achievement, he was not assigned any tasks for this day, and permitted to spend a day in one of the few sources of warmth in this dire blizzard-rich winter, the public library.
While such settlements were neglected in an era of endless free information, the library remained a source of pride for V-City over the years, and was one of the few institutions the government was allowed to keep running, even if they could not secure any additional physical media since the corporate takeover. It still provided residents with access to what remained of the American internet, general comfort, and escapism in a time where the cruelties of reality became overbearing.
Cook personally preferred to spend his time practically by researching useful skills. But today, things were different. After working his ass off so regularly, and nearly being captured several times these past few weeks, Cook was desperate for a break, something to take the edge off, and after voicing these concerns to his two close friends, Spizz and Cheddar, he was given what they dubbed a “Christmas present”.
A small glass pipe with a modified form of cocaine mixed with baking soda, commonly known as crack. While having a genetic resistance to the addictive properties of drugs, they were still something of a vice for Cook, as they allowed his mind to fully escape from the bad future that humanity had landed itself in. They transported him, albeit temporarily, to a place of unrestrained euphoria.
However, the library was cluttered with people, as per usual, and Cook was not disrespectful enough to light up in such a public setting. While the option to light up outside always remained, it was approximately negative 10 degrees Celsius outside, which would make the act of heating up his pipe more difficult, and surely negatively impact his high. So instead Cook looked to the next best option available to him and moseyed his way up to the second floor restroom.
In doing so, a degree of guilt began to wallow in Cook’s brain, reminding him of how valuable these restrooms were, how it was the only free source of low-lead water available in V-City, and how, after a recent remodeling job by one invaluable laborer, it was also the home to four public shower stalls that were used constantly. But it was only the female restroom that was used for such purposes, while the male restroom was seldom used because of its subpar water pressure and toilets that were prone to clogging.
After weighing his options, Cook slid into the unoccupied restroom, gently shutting the door as he did so. After letting out a sigh, and shuffling about in his tattered coat, he made his way to the middle of five stalls, and shut the door promptly before dropping his pants and planting his bare ass on the cool plastic seat. Upon getting as comfortable as he could, Cook reached into his inner pocket and pulled out his pipe, shaking it around gently while observing the pinch of power. Taking a deep breath, Cook jammed the pipe into his mouth and plucked a lighter from his pants.
With the tools to obtain this much desired high in place, Cook lit the lighter directly under his pipe, warming it up with his right hand while taking his left to his average-sized penis. He began rubbing it profusely as he tried to draw up imagery and fantasies of his assorted kinks which, by contemporary standards, were absurdly pedestrian. Fucking a busty blonde woman, missionary style, while she talked about how much she loves being rammed with his wet hard cock.
As he focused on the finer features of the woman, including her light twintail hair that smelled of organic flowers, light blue eyes, a flawless face flushed with the ideal blend of beauty and cuteness, and boobs that bobbed up and down with each imaginary thrust, he could establish a fantasy for him to fixate on while dealing with the apparatus stuffed in his mouth.
Inexperienced in the art of crack smoking, Cook tried immersing the pipe in the tepid flame of the salvaged lighter, remaining steadfast in his grip as he waited for the crack to begin sizzling and for the cocaine gas to enter his person. Cook drooled and moaned as the sensations wracked his brain, strangling his penis with his left hand, shaking about his right, and wiggling his legs from side to side.
His vision crossed and faded, becoming steadily divorced from reality as he achieved the chemical escapism he so long desired. He had successfully escaped the post-capitalism dystopia of reality and entered a happy place where everything felt good. Or at least that’s what it felt like to him. To the outside world, he looked like some guy losing his goldarn mind as he snorted vapors.
As he finished what little crack he was able to scrounge together, the pipe and lighter both fell to the floor, and Cook began embracing his dick with both hands. And with three additional tugs, he shot a stream of white ooze that landed on the restroom floor. It was a powerful burst, followed by a pitter-patter of small droplets that led from the puddle before him and back to his feet.
He laughed incessantly as these two highs bombarded his person at the same time, rejoicing in the sensation while he could. Yet it was as the semen was released from his penis that Cook noticed something curious. A small bubble of cum remained latched onto his urethra. It was an innocuous oddity at first, but then the bubble expanded, exploding to the size of a basketball.
Looking at his junk cockeyed and confused, Cook brought a finger to this bubble with the intention of popping it, but he instead found that the bubble had a consistency similar to a water balloon. Panic settled in as he wondered just what the hell was happening to his penis. Before he could formulate further questions or solutions, the bubble burst, and released a white-hued gas that lingered before him, fluttering and shifting before taking something of a more distinct form. A form resembling the nonexistent woman he was masturbating to moments ago…. But entirely made out of cum gas.
“Shit, am I supposed to be hallucinating?” Cook murmured to himself as he stared at the exposed breasts of the naked figure before him.
“Well, hallucinations are technically a side-effect of crack, but not like this,” the figure replied with a chipper and upbeat voice.
“Um… this is… hallucinations aren’t supposed to—”
“I’m not a hallucination, sweetie. I am as real as you! The name’s Milky, Ghost Milky!”
“…Am I dead?”
“No siree! You’re alive and well… aside from the drugs running through your veins, and the cummies you made all over this nice bathroom. You better clean this up once we’re done!”
“…The fuck is going on here? The fuck are you?”
“Hey, watch the language, buster! Milky does not tolerate rudeness in any of its forms, and shall make certain that your bad behavior is corrected once Milky does her magic!”
“Magic isn’t real, you stupid… cum… ghost… bimbo! The hell are you talking about!?”
“Hmph! If you must know, I am a specter from another dimension with the stated objective of spreading the joys of Milky Sunshine across the multiverse! And by imagining me and my form, you summoned me! Though I have to say that I do not appreciate being summoned in this manner, and by someone with lifestyle choices like yours. Even if your world is a 9 out of 10 on the ‘uh-oh meter’, this behavior is unacceptable. But I’ll be sure to change that after I make you my first subject, Mister Cook!”
“I know, it can be most confusing, especially with all of those nasty chemicals flowing through your brainspace. Just sit back, relax, and let Milky send you to heaven with one of her magical blowjobs, okie dokes?”
“…Ah screw it. Yes ghost lady who is totally not a hallucination from a wack-as-fucked trip, I give you permission to suck my dick, or whatever.”
Upon receiving a type of consent from Cook, Milky lowed herself to Cook’s still erect and cum-drenched penis, placing her mouth around it. Considering her lack of mass, doing so should have done nothing to Cook physically, yet the contact caused a sensation to begin from within Cook. It was almost as if Milky were somehow manipulating the innards of Cook’s penis, rather than stimulating them externally. Contact alone caused a warm and pleasant sensation to permeate throughout Cook’s person, and that sensation only became more pronounced once Milky started using her tongue and lips to stimulate him. The penis moved to and fro in accordance with the movements of her mouth.
This naturally aided Cook as he came down from his high, granting his brain a new source of dopamine as he underwent crack withdrawals. Yet while the act was pleasurable, he felt somewhat thrown off about the experience due to the fact that he could see his penis wiggle and squirm as Milky caressed it. Still, once he looked away from the surreal sight, it was only a matter of time before Cook loosened up, and let out another load that limply squirted out from his penis. Where it failed to land in Milky’s mouth, and instead joined with the puddle of semen that had been growing, and drying, on the restroom floor.
Once his sexual chambers had been emptied further, Cook looked down at Milky with a smile that she returned with a small wink as she continued to latch her lips around Cook’s manhood. He briefly wondered if she was going to try and get him off yet again, but then the sight before him grew even more surreal, as Milky was sucked into Cook’s penis. Within the span of two seconds, she inserted her gaseous body into his urethra and siphoned herself inside him. Cook blinked rapidly after observing this and then lunged a hand towards his penis as it became wracked with a burning sensation.
However, he was too slow to grab his member before it, and his testicles, rapidly receded into his person, causing him to dry heave from the pressure. Within five seconds, his regular dick and balls had somehow mangled themselves into an equally regular vulva that Cook, born explorer he was, immediately investigated with the aid of an index finger.
Cook jumped as he was met with this sensation… or at least he tried to, only to find himself caught as the toilet seat was caressing his buttocks. Sending a hand down to investigate, he felt absurdly soft skin adorning a firm bottom that was far larger than the one he once knew. With the aid of a hand, he loosened the bond formed between his ass and the plastic toilet seat, and was left standing with his pants around his ankles. He attempted to hoist them back up to his person, only to loosen his grip as his hands brushed against his now hairless and slender legs.
Looking down at himself, Cook let out a gasp, struggling to identify what laid beneath his waist as anything other than a woman’s body, even lifting up his feet from his now oversized running shoes to reveal that they had shrunk. Once again, he was given little time to process this these changes before the next one crept up on him, this time being paired with a guttural burp as his lower torso contorted and rearrange itself into something more slight, while still retaining decent musculature.
Recognizing a pattern, Cook then began taking off his coat and shirts as quickly as he could, shoving them onto the coat rack of the restroom stall. He got down to his undershirt before he accidentally rammed his hands into a pair of large breasts that appeared from a flat chest in a matter of a single second. The impact caused Cook to shout as a new sensation was sent coursing to his brain, one predominantly of pain, but with a subdued sense of pleasure laced within. It was not quite like anything he experienced previously. Yet even this new sensation, and the new lumps that hung from his chest, did not distract him from the sound of his shout, which was one, maybe two, octaves higher than it has been in a solid decade.
Fully realizing what was going on at this point, Cook stormed out of the restroom door, wearing nothing but socks and an undershirt that failed to hide anything beneath his belly button, due to the way it laid upon his breasts. He was then greeted by a mirror, which revealed the body of the woman who was part of his masturbatory fantasy, the body of Milky Sunshine. The stacked and idealized proportions, the smooth skin, the carefully balanced facial features, and even the dual blonde ponytails that gave her a playful demeanor. Every part of Cook was now Milky, and Cook’s light blue eyes went wide as he looked over himself.
“What the flip is this?” Cook barked at his reflection.
“I… wait, that’s not what I wanted to say… scrap! Fudge! Pecker! Fireman? Pee-pee! …Hello, this is my friend, his name is Dick… okay, so that works, but what about butt? Heck! Drat! What’s goldarn wrong with me, I can’t even swear anymore. Ah fiddlesticks!”
“Wait, my body changed, and I’m peeved that I can’t cuss anymore? I mean, Milky is a very sexy lady— and if I look like her that means I’m a sexy lady now. Well, if I’m going to be a lady, at least I’m a cutie, with my poofy twintails and cute nose, but I really should get myself some panties and a bra or else— Gah! What was that? Why am I thinking like this? I should be upset over how my entire body was changed against my will, not thinking of how adora-cute I am… but I am pretty adora-cute— No, that’s wrong! What the heckity heck heck is wrong with me? Why did I just say that intentionally? Gaaaah!”
As Cook looked into the mirror, panicking over this sudden crisis of identity, they looked to see a figure from behind them, that of Milky, still in the form of what could deftly be described as a spunk ghost.
“I toldja that you gotta be my subject for now, and that means that you’ve gotta be a Milky. But I’m not really about killing off your identity. Instead, I took a cup of Milky and a cup of Cook, mixed them together in a bowl, and bam, out came you. A person who I’m gonna call… Cindy Cookie! Or just Cookie for short. But I am open to suggestions if you object with your new namesake, my sweet little Cookie.”
“Y’know Milky, you didn’t do a great job explaining all of this. …And I guess that name is fine,” Cook, or rather Cookie, replied nonchalantly as they turned around.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to panic, and I only had so much time to get things done, or else I would’ve been kicked outta this realm, so I had to be a bit of a jerk to get things-a-rollin’. But no worries, operation Getchu Some Milky #69 is well on its way to being a huge success, and your Earth is on its way to salvation!”
“Um, Earth? What does dirt have to do with this?”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just that most realms call their planet Earth, and not Terra. My baddy bads!”
“…Anyway, what exactly am I supposed to do? One person can’t save the world from this corporate dystopia.”
“Which is why we need more Milkies! With a million Milkies, there is no problem that can’t be solved, no deed too dastardly, and no crime too callous, and no world too doomed!”
“And how do we get more Milkies?”
“The same way I made you into a Milky, my sweet Cookie! Sexual intercourse! And no worries, I can help you get started.”
“Um, if all I need to do to save the world is have lots of sex, I think I can handle that just fine, especially with a body like this.”
“Coolsies. So you don’t want clothes, a hacked government ID card, and some friends to help you make this library into a Milky-filled play place of justice? Because with Milky magic, we can do all of that in less than a day.”
“Well, maybe I do want your help…”
“I knew you’d see the Milky Way! Now then, I implanted a suggestion in the minds of your two friends, Spizz and Cheddar. They’ll make sure to check up on you soon. Just stay in the stall from earlier and hide your clothes behind the toilet. I’ll muster up some fresh ones for you later.”
“Uh, wait, am I just supposed to wait in the toilet… mostly naked?”
“Precisely, my prestigious protégé. Just wait and let mama Milky take care of everything for you, and before you know it, things will be better than ever before.”
“…Okay, magical semen ghost fairy, I guess I’ll listen to you.”
“Tehe. That’s the spirit!”
Dejected and hazy from a mixture of a rapid mental change, a full bodily transformation, and smoking some crack, Cookie did as Milky requested and went to the middle toilet stall. After shoving her tattered male clothes behind the toilet, she sat down and proceeded to pass the time by looking over her body. Poking and rubbing her legs, walking her slender fingers over her arms, patting her flat tummy, all before finally reaching her breasts. She paid special attention to the mounds that dangled from her chest, wafting her fingers over every millimeter of them, while paying extra special attention to the erect nipples that were very visibly poking through her undershirt. She rubbed a finger over them before giving them a soft pinch, letting out an audible squeal as she came to terms with how sensitive her new body was.
However, before any further exploration could start, and Cookie could explore her lower regions in greater detail, she was distracted by the sound of a slamming door and a set of two footsteps. Cookie assumed that this had to be her friends, who Milky so generously invited via minor mental manipulation.
Not long after entering, the pair entered the stalls that surrounded Cookie, closing the doors in near synchronicity and allowing silence to linger throughout the restroom. Only to be disrupted by the sound of plastic meeting with tile, as two 15 centimeter holes appeared in both the walls of Cookie’s stall, and from each of them came something most surprising to Cookie. A penis. One colored a deep brown, the other a lighter tan, and both placed parallel to each other.
Shock was the first thought to escape her mind, nearly falling off the toilet as the two members seemingly appeared out of nowhere. But as she looked at them, recognizing them as belonging to her friends, she developed another sensation. Not one of neutrality, as she used to feel when seeing a man’s penis out in the wild, but rather a feeling of… desire. As in, she wanted to take these penises, ram them up her holes, gyrate her body about, and let them rock her socks off, figuratively and literally.
A twinge of hesitation gripped her mind as she wondered if she should indulge in these desires before remembering what Milky said minutes ago. That Cookie would need to have sex with a lot of people in order to save this world from destruction. And if the future of humanity was at stake, how could she hesitate in a situation like this? So with a renewed sense of duty, Cookie looked at both penises eagerly, and decided to ram the darker one up her bubbly little butt, while taking her mouth to the lighter one.
Despite having been a virgin, and having spent 99.9% of her life as a man, Cookie’s mind filled with what could be described as a master’s class in hardcore sexual intercourse. It was a side effect of Milky’s many mental alterations, and while this realization should have angered Cookie, it only excited her. Cookie carefully caressed the privates that were penetrating both ends of her person. Suckling Cheddar’s tan member, wrapping it with her tongue, and drenching it in saliva as the penis went from erect to completely solid, expanding as Cookie moved her head up and down, shoving as much of the cock as she could through her mouth and into her throat.
She mimicked her affectionate display with Spizz, loosening her anus to allow for the entirety of his penis to fit, while clenching it to give a tightness and tension to the ebb and flow of his thrusts. Managing these two vastly different sensations from within her erogenous zones caused Cookie’s mind to become hazy. Yet even as she worked her muscles to maximize the mutual pleasure between her two partners, she still desired greater sexual satisfaction. She drew a hand to her unattended and moist vulva, delving into it with her fingers yet again, but this time with both the goal of getting off and an intimate understanding of how to do so.
And so, with her body contorted to the confines of the restroom, her three primary holes all stimulated, and her body wiggling about through the motions while her mind struggled to manage the dopamine it was assaulted with, it was only a matter of time before this elaborate sexual act reached its climax. Which happened in a glorious synchronicity. All three participants unleashed their sexual fluids simultaneously. Spizz sprayed his white stuff throughout Cookie’s rear. Cheddar shot his load down her throat, sending the hot and salty protein rich liquid directly into her stomach. While Cookie herself dampened her hands with her own translucent ooze, which she brought gingerly up to her face, finding delight in her sweet scent.
While this apex of bliss only lasted a moment, it was not enough to appease Cookie’s enormous lust, which she attempted to further quell by stimulating the penises jammed in both ends of her body. Yet as she rubbed Cheddar’s member against her gums, and continued to wiggle her bum to accommodate Spizz, both of their penises grew flaccid, escaping the grip she had on them as they left Cookie’s stall, and returned to their own.
This loss of stimulation and support sent Cookie crumbling down to the floor, landing on her knees and splashing her legs in a malodorous mixture of semen, sweat, and her own lady juices. She remained in that state for a moment as her mind began to come down from its high. As she returned to what could be described as a reserved mental state, Milky looked down at herself and twisted her adorable face into a scowl.
Her legs were dripping, anus was leaking, her body was covered in assorted fluids, her undershirt was a damp cloth, and her socks were soaked. Dissatisfied, Milky reached behind the toilet to use her male clothes to clean off some of the fluids. She moved her hand back there without looking, and instead of grabbing her clothes, she instead found an entirely different outfit, sealed in a cloth bag, no less.
Inside, she found underwear that would be appropriate given her newfound proportions, a navy tank top, some white yoga pants, a pair of stylish pink gym shoes, a recycled rag, and a small bottle of multi-purpose sanitary gel. Recognizing the use for all of these items, Cookie then spent a minute tidying herself up, washing much of her body and cleaning the floor before dressing herself with a great deal of ease on account of inherited muscle memory. But that did not stop Cookie from spending a few seconds gawking at her form, giving her breasts and booty a squeeze, and hugging herself to embrace the softness that constituted her being.
Dressed and partially refreshed, Cookie walked out the door to see the restroom as it was, undisturbed and empty aside from the occupants of the two closed stalls. She briefly contemplated trying to open them or knocking, but was soon called away by a voice that mirrored her own naturally chipper tone.
“Yoo-hoo! How’d it go, my sweet Cookie?”
Cookie turned around and saw Milky once more, still retaining the form of an erotic specter of a naked woman.
“I never thought I’d enjoy having a pecker in my mouth and butt, but it felt super duper great thanks to the body you gave me Milky! …But what about my friends? I noticed that they’ve been pretty quiet… and where did these clothes come from?”
“To answer the last question first, magic! You gave me two more Milkies, and I used some of that magic to make clothes and de-lewd-tergent. And don’t worry about your friends. They’re becoming Milkies themselves, but I wanted them to have a moment of privacy before prancing out here for the full story. They’re freaking out like you were, but I isolated the sound to make sure that their panic wasn’t infectious.”
“…And you just so happen to have all that power?”
“Darling, I plan for this stuff, and have the residual power of 68 other worlds to draw back from if needed. It’s like running through a game on New Game Plus, when you’ve already maxed out everything, so even the super bosses on super hard are super cakewalks. No drama, no problem, just constant winning with little effort.”
Before Cookie could retort, one of the occupied stalls gingerly opened, revealing what could generally be described as a recolor of herself and Milky, retaining the same slim busty figure, twin ponytails, and even the same general outfit. But she was black, had dark hair, and wore a white tank top, pink yoga pants, and navy shoes. A look of unrest adorned her face as she began searching throughout the restroom, but she quickly changed her expression after landing on what looked to be a white version of herself, and a version of herself who was some sort of cum ghost.
“Oh, hey Spizz. It’s me, Cook. Or I suppose that it’s Cookie now. This is Milky, she’s the transdimensional ghost who transformed us.”
“…What?” The figure poking their head out of the stall said while adopting a blank expression.
“I know it’s real confusing, but no worries. I’ll be sure to explain everything once the trio is back together,” Cookie said in a childish tone as she crept closer to the awestruck figure.
“Um… okay, I guess I can roll with this. But, I think you’re mistaken. I’m actually Cheddar, not Spizz.”
“…But you’re black,” Cookie curtly replied.
“Yeah, and that’s the weirdest thing. I mean, one of my cousins went through gender confirmation genetic therapy before stuff went to poop, so the whole changing sex thing isn’t all that weird. The actual weird part of this was how fast this all was happening, and how my race suddenly changed on me.”
“Oh… Oopsie doodles. Milky done made a mistake. I must’ve swapped you and Spizz’s ethnicities in the process. Sorry about that. I can change you back if you really want.”
“Um, back to normal, or back to our original ethnicities?” Cheddar asked.
“Once you become a Milky, you’re a Milky forevers, but I can change up your colors, proportions, and style if you want. ‘Cos you’re just rolling with the base package right now.”
“…Eh, forget about it. I don’t look anything like myself anyway, so may as well go for the whole experience.”
“That’s classic Cheddar for you. Cool as a cucumber even after undergoing a complete bodily transformation less than 5 minutes ago,” Cookie said with a smile and a shrug.
Before the conversation could continue, the third stall opened to reveal yet another Milky doppelganger, this one with tan skin, dark hair, a pink tank top, navy pants, and white shoes. They looked uncertain as they exited, and a look of utter shock appeared on their face as they turned around to see three lookalikes with different color schemes.
“Hey Spizz, how’s it going?” Cheddar said to ease their friend’s tension.
“Um… what the heck happened during that gloryhole?” Spizz said, dumbfounded and perplexed by just about everything in front of them.
From there, Milky paused whatever conversation was starting up between the trio, and offered them a modified and far more straightforward retelling of what she shared with Cookie. She came to this world to save it, and plans to do so by recruiting people as Milkies. Milkies spread by having sex with others, so the goal is to amass a coalition of Milkies large enough to stand up to the ruling bodies, take control of this dire and dying world, and make it greater than it ever was.
A side effect of the process is that part of Milky’s personality is mixed in with everybody who becomes a Milky, thus leading to significant mental changes, but she promised that their true identity would remain intact. A remark that the trio, retaining full access to their past memories and personality, did not object to.
“Alrighty, is everybody a-okay with our jolly old modus operandi?” Milky said as she concluded her schpiel.
“I don’t see why not. Humanity is basically doomed otherwise,” Cheddar said as they played with their ponytails.
“Yeah, I agree with Cheddar— Hold on, are you going to give us new names or something?” Spizz replied.
“Hm… yeah, I can do that. Yee formally known as Cheddar shall be known as Candy Cream, while yee formally known as Spizz shall become Cynthia Cheese.”
“Part of me wants to hate that name… but the other part absolutely loves it,” the individual now known as Cream said while stifling a smirk.
“Eh, that’s mental manipulation for you. But it’s a heckuva lot better than what the Corps do,” Cookie replied.
“So, where do we begin with this whole process?” Cheese asked while rubbing her exposed shoulders.
“Elementary, my dear Milkies,” the original ghostly Milky began. “We venture out of this restroom, which I have been magically redirecting people from in case you’re curious, and into the library, where the Milky army shall expand into the thousands. You shall go out there, flaunt your bodies, and allow for your natural pheromones to do their work, drawing arousal from these individuals, who you shall then ease into sexual delight.”
“Your Milkiness shall spread like an STD in a certified dope orgy where everybody is sticking it into the same bucket of lube right after they orgasm! So venture out into this cursed world, my lovelies! Venture out and have sex. Have sex for Terra. Have sex for justice. And have sex for the sustainable communist utopian future! Do it for me, for your fellow humans, and do it for yourselves, because sex in those bodies of yours is positively dynamite!”
And lo, the trio of transformed women ventured out of the restroom with a renewed sense of purpose and a belief that they could be their world’s salvation. As their imaginations ran rampant and libidos revved up in anticipation, Cookie, Cream, and Cheese ventured out and into what would soon blossom into a building of extensive erotic delights. They would turn this library into the birthplace of a revolution that will free the oppressed masses from the malicious G.O.D.S. First V-City, and then, the world.