Random #005: Ghost Milky in… The Cookie Crumbles

From mingling a blasphemous album about drugs, sex, and gloryholes with a hyperbolic anti-capitalistic ideology… Yes, really.

Back when I started this Randoms segment back in May, I had several ideas written down, and one of them was based the Ghostrappy album, Life in Ghostworld, particularly the tracks “The Gloryhole Tutorial” and “Smoke Crack and Masturbate.” This all gestated in my pressure cooker of a mind, mingled with a currently unused character of mine by the name of Milky Sunshine, and became a story about the ghost of a person by the name of Milky, a ghost Milky if you will, who finds a man smoking crack and masturbating at a public library restroom, only to then be transformed into a woman, and then be involved in a two-sided gloryhole scenario.

But as the months passed and I began to distance myself from this idea in favor of others, it further mutated with some light lore exploration and hyperbolic politics into what you see here. While I did have some reservations about this change, Randoms are ultimately narrative experiments for me, and if I have an idea that I fancy, or want to implement, I generally go for it, even if it does not fit with whatever my original hazy vision for the story idea was. As for why things got political, I wrote this shortly after Natalie Rambles About 2019, so politics were still on my mind. Anyways, time to indulge in this assorted nonsense.

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.

Random #005: Ghost Milky in… The Cookie Crumbles

V-City. A once promising modern metropolis that boldly triumphed throughout the 20th century, cementing its place as the next millennia of man dawned, and mankind was thrust into a new age of advancement and innovation. Yet as the century began to fully come into its own and the workforce did away with those whose births dated back to the century past, the utopian hopes that once filled the minds of 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 had caused much of Terra to become disposed.

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 starvation, creating huddled masses of corpses that themselves were washed away by toxin-rich oceans that struggled to sustain life. Those who did survive were subjected to dilapidated economies, with governments being structurally incapable to react to such devastation, and handing reign over to the only entities with power in this destroyed world.

Once granted these immense powers, and the freedom to do precisely as they please, the 52 conglomerates of Terra reached out to the surviving masses, and offered them salvation. In exchange for a digital signature that signed away the rights inscribed to them by their nation, turning them into something less than a human human, and more comparable to corporate owned cattle. Those who agreed to this arrangement were granted food and shelter, but 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 little more than a company town, with the local government only running a paltry number of services while functioning as a puppet for their corporate overlords. 10% of the population had been granted the elusive status of contractual employment for one of these overlords, while another 70%, dejected and unable to find work, surrendered their humanity and subjected themselves to a life of contractual servitude. As for the remaining 20%, they were arguably subjected to the worst fate of all. With the local economy having been demolished by its rulers, local businesses struggled to remain open as imports into V-City became restricted and slapped with outlandish tariffs. Those who remained free were subjected to a severe lack of resources, and poor living conditions that only worsened as their population of locally grown crops were unable to survive the harsh winter that began, as per usual, in the midst of October.

By December, only 12% of the population remained independent of the corporations, and every day for them had become a great struggle. Yet it was precisely those who struggled most who were subjected to the greatest conditions, as compensation for routinely risking their life by conducting illegal trades with those beyond the borders of V-City, and robbed the conglomerate of their ill-gotten goods. These risk tolerant individuals became known as Runners, and often only held those titles for a matter of weeks before it was stripped away from them. Either by being captured by the security that had spread across V-City, or by the tumultuous weather and immense snowfall that bombarded the settlement on a daily basis, making any on-foot travel profusely dangerous.

One of these individuals was Colin Cook, but was officially recognized as citizen US-ZVC-0250008. A young man who once held everything, being the son of two high ranking employees of a corporation, but they were subjected to immense layoffs after 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 fit, and his mind was honed from a private institution that did not conform to the contemporary educational standards of preparing most children for a life as corporate drones who acted based on impulses beamed directly to their brains via cranial implants.

He was a tall 20-something-year-old man, with a heritage dating back to the defunct nation of Scotland, and while his hair was something of a curly dark brown mesh and face harsh yet unremarkable, he was still a heralded 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 time in one of the few sources of warmth and freedom 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 were unable to 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 very practically, researching useful skills, and having accepted that fun and joys were luxuries he was no longer entitled to. But today, things were different. After working his ass off so regularly, and nearly being captured several times these past few months, 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 by transporting 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 10 degrees Celsius below freezing outside, which would make the act of heating up his pipe most 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 handyman, 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 in comparison due to its subpar water pressure and toilets that were prone to clogging.

While this discouraged the use of them as toilets, Cook clearly had other plans and, while drawing little attention, slid into the unoccupied restroom, gently shutting the door as he did so. After letting a sigh, and shuffling about in his tattered coat, he made his way to the middle of three stalls, and shut the door promptly before dropping down 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 flutter about, before jamming it into his mouth and shuffling through his pants for a lighter.

With the tools to obtain this much desired high in place, Cook lit the lighter directly under his pipe and shut his eyes while taking his left hand to his average sized penis, 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 they love 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, flawless face flushed with the ideal blend of beauty and cuteness, and breasts that bobbed up and down with each imaginary thrust, he was able to establish a fantasy for him to fixate on, and shifted much of his attention to the apparatus in his mouth.

Inexperienced in the art of crack smoking, Cook tried simply 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 escapist bliss of cocaine to course through his person. Cook began to drool and moan 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, and began to become overwhelmed by an excess of chemicals that sent him to what, to him anyways, was a happy place where everything felt good. But to anybody else, they just saw somebody losing their goldarn mind as they snorted a contaminated substance laced with unwanted reagents.

Still, Cook did not stop his acts, continued fapping mindlessly while ingesting all the smoke he could, until he was left with nothing, and dropped both the pipe and lighter in response, where the two fell to the tile floor, no worse for wear. As this high lingered on, Cook refocused his efforts to his penis, causing it to shoot a stream of ooze that puddled onto the restroom floor, lasting only for a moment before the stream was reduced to a drip that splattered beneath his feet, and onto his hand. 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 began to notice something curious, a small bubble of cum that remained latched onto his urethra. It was an innocuous oddity at first, but then the bubble began to expand, growing rapidly into something the size of a basketball.

Cook, naturally, sought to pop this frightening bubble by poking it with his finger, but he instead found that the bubble had a consistency similar to a water balloon, despite being transparent. Panic began to settle in as he wondered just what the hell was happening to his penis, but 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 recognizable and distinct form. A form resembling 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 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! 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 such as yourself. 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 fucking warped trip, or possibly part of a crack dream, I give you permission to suck my dick, or whatever.”


Upon receiving a type of consent from Cook, Milky proceeded to lower 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 did cause a sensation to begin from within Cook’s person. Almost as if Milky were somehow manipulating the innards of Cook’s penis, rather than stimulating it externally. Contact alone caused a warm and pleasant sensation to permeate throughout Cook’s person, and that sensation only became more pronounced once Milky began 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, failing to land in Milky’s mouth, and instead joining with the pile 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, siphoning the entirety of her body into his urethra and into his body within the span of two seconds. 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, before finding himself jolt upright as a flurry of electricity burst from his now internalized genitalia. Within the span of five seconds, his regular old dick and balls had somehow mangled themselves into an equally regular vulva that Cook wasted no time investigating with an index finger, which he rammed right into his newly formed vagina.

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 was met with absurdly soft skin adorning a firm bottom that was far larger than the one he once knew. With the aid of a hand, he was able to loosen the bond his ass and the plastic had formed, and was left standing with his pants around his ankles. He naturally 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 lies beneath his waist as anything other than a woman’s body, even lifting up his feet from his now oversized running shoes to reveal something at least a size smaller dressed in his well-worn socks. 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 began to contort and rearrange itself into something more slight, while still retaining a decent degree of 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 until reaching a his undershirt, when 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 let out a small cough 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 mammaries that hung from his chest, did not distract him from the sound of his cough, which was at least an octave higher than what he would have anticipated.

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 immediately 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 overly idealized proportions, the smooth skin, the carefully balanced facial features, and even the dual blonde ponytails that gave her a very 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. Oh fiddlesticks!”

“Wait, my body changed, and I’m peeved that I can’t cuss anymore? I mean, Milky is a very sexy lady, and I guess that means I’m a sexy lady now. And I’m a real cutie, with my little twintails, 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 loss 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”

“You didn’t do a great job explaining all of this, y’know Milky? …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!”

“…Anyways, what exactly am I supposed to do? One person can’t save us 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 make 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.”

“Coolies. 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 still mulling over in a haze caused by rapid mental change, a full bodily transformation, and the drug that permeated throughout her system, Cookie did as Milky requested and went to the middle toilet stall, which she tidied up by shoving her tattered clothes behind the toilet for the time being. There she crossed her legs as she sat on the toilet and began to poke and rub her legs, walking her fingers over her smooth thighs, and up to her flat tummy, before reaching her breasts. She paid special attention to the mounds of excess fat 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 shirt. 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 be underway, 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 that were growing closer to her. Cookie assumed that this had to be her friends, who Milky so generously invited via minor mental manipulation. She briefly considered stepping out and explaining the situation to them, but Cookie was a bit too busy casually exploring her new form, looking over her fingers in detail while brushing another hand through her hair.

Not too long after that, 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 began to echo through the room 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 from each other.

Shock was the first through 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 began to develop 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 and ram them up her holes, gyrate her body about, and let them rock her bloody 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 determination, Cookie looked at both penises eagerly, and made the decision to ram the darker one up her bubbly little butt, while taking her mouth to the tan one.

She quickly found her brain flooded with wisdom on what to do, exceeding what little sexual experience she had by watching videos and playing VR sex games, as Milky implanted what could be described as a master’s class in hardcore sexual intercourse into Cookie’s brain. Despite having been a virgin, and having spent 99.9% of their life as a man, 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 manhood 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, but even as she worked her muscles to maximize the mutual pleasure between her two partners, she still desired greater sexual satisfaction, and drew a hand to her unattended and moist vulva, delving into it with her fingers yet again, but this time with the internalized purpose of getting off.

And so, with her body twisted and 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, with Spizz spraying his white stuff throughout Cookie’s rear, and Cheddar shooting 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 began to grow 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 slashing 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, recover from a low, and return to normal. Once in that state, she looked down at herself and bore a scowl on her adorable face as she looked down at her legs and damp tank top. Dissatisfied in her appearance, she quickly grabbed the clothes she shoved behind the toilet minutes ago in order to wipe away the fluids from her person. Yet as she reached for the wad of clothes, she instead found an outfit that was entirely different from the one she wore before her transformation, and 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 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 a small 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 erotically hued 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 real story. I gave them a mirror, the same sort of stuff I gave you, and 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, but 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 beyond following the emotions and delighting in the wild ride.”

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 a 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 with a childish tone as she slowly moved closer to the awestruck figure.

“Um… okay, I guess I can roll with this. But, um, I think you’re mistaken. I’m actually Cheddar, not Spizz.”

“…But you’re black,” Cookie said curtly.

“Yeah, and that’s the weirdest thing. I mean, one of my cousins went through gender confirmation genetic therapy before stuff went to poops, so the whole changing sex thing isn’t all that surprising. The weirdest thing was how fast this all was happening, and how my ethnicity 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?”

“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 anyways, 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 final stall was casually opened to reveal yet another Milky doppelganger, this one with tan skin, dark hair, a pink tank top, navy pants, and white shoes. They held a blank expression, bearing hints of settled shock that resurfaced as they saw their three lookalikes of different color schemes.

“Hey Spizz, how’s it going?” Cheddar said to alleviate their friend’s tension.

“Um… what the hell 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 does so by recruiting people as Milkies. Milkies spread by having sex with others, so the goal is to amass an 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 her is mixed in with everybody who becomes 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 rampant 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 future of a communist utopia! 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, a belief that they could be their world’s salvation. With high hopes and their libidos rising from the idea of stimulating their bodies once more, Cookie, Cream, and Cheese ventured out and into what would soon blossom into a building of extensive erotic delights, and then transform into the birthplace of a revolution that will free the opposed from their malicious corporate overlords. First V-City, and then, the world.

Das Ende

Boy that was stupid. But stupidity is something that I find to be vital to nearly any good and quality piece of art or writing, as while I can appreciate a serious and thoughtful piece on the human condition, the follies of putting faith in others, or the value of sapience and intellectual innovation, it all runs together without some degree of levity or general absurdity. And seeing as how I have yet to make a Random that relishes in how stupid its actual conception is, I’m actually walking away from this one thinking that what I’ve made is a great accomplishment. I mean, it is also an erotically charged story that makes little sense and has shoehorned in political overtones for no real reason, but those things are not mutually exclusive.

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