The Milk Maid

The Milk Maid

Chapter one

Kyle's eyes were burning from the tear gas.  He almost couldn't see.  A loaf of bread under his arm, a wedge of cheese in his hands, Kyle ran away from the supply truck straight into the arms of the Tennessee Militia Deputy.  One minute later he was deposited in an armored vehicle hands fastened together with a plastic strap.  He gasped for breath.  It was 115 degrees outside, hot even for Memphis in August 2032.  Heat, hunger, humidity and tear gas had taken it's toll.
 
Almost one month later he was escorted by two Militia Deputies into a large colonial style building. The Western District Training Center had once been surrounded by a verdant green lawn, the lawn surrounded by a ten foot high privet hedge and that surrounded by a wrought iron fence.  Now the lawn was sparse weeds and dirt, the privet had withered away and the fence was topped with concertina wire.
 
A middle aged woman in a nurses uniform sat in the reception area.  After getting some information she asked Kyle, “Second offense?”
 
Kyle nodded.
 
He was told to strip.  The nurse put on rubber gloves and checked all his orifices. Then Kyle was given a hospital gown split down the back with ties and taken past two security doors into a small room.  He was aware that a camera in the ceiling followed him whenever he moved.  After two hours an orderly entered and took his vitals.  Another long wait, then a nurse and an orderly entered the room.  The orderly held Kyle's arms while the nurse gave Kyle a shot.  The room faded to gray.
 
When Kyle awoke he was in a bunk area of a pod.  While he was still groggy an orderly entered gave him some pills, gruel and water.  Somewhere nearby a TV was playing, “ American forces destroyed the Pacific Rim stronghold of Portland today.  Rim rebels retreated after precautionary bombing and we expect that the territory they hold will be recaptured by Saturday. . . Today President Allman announced “We are more secure than ever before.”  Someone switched the channel to MTV.
 
There were five other males about fifteen to twenty five years old in the room dressed in orange colored scrubs.  One of them looked at Kyle and said, “You got scrubs next to the bed.”  Kyle changed and came back. 
 
Derek and George were the youngest ones.  George told Kyle everyone's name and whether they were stree' or 'lebs.  Kyle told them he was stree', in for liberating food, “ 'cause  I didn't eat'n two days.”  
 
“They gave you shots didn't they.”
 
“Uh-huh.”
 
“ They give 'em to everyone.  Wanta see wha' it does?  Show 'em Der. ”
 
George waved his fingers up and Derek pulled up his top.  Derek definitely had a set of small breasts and prominent nipples.
 
“Holy fucking crap!” Kyle felt a cold phantasmal hand grab him by the butt and the electric chills ran up his spine.
 
Derek pulled down his top.
 
The next day Tony got into an argument and two orderlies grabbed him under the arms to escort him out.  Tony started fighting and yelling he didn't want to go.  Kyle and an older inmate tried to go to his rescue. It ultimately failed, and Kyle got extra shots.
 
The attempted break out came three days later.  Tony cut through the ceiling tiles and all six carefully crawled until they thought they were above the staff locker room.
 
 “Time to get some clothes and keys, he, he, he.”
 
“Shhh.”
 
They dropped down into the locker room where an orderly and several armed militia waited for them.
 
Kyle was given more shots and put in an escape proof windowless room.  After two days of silence, he could hear white noise and humming noise with indistinct voices mixed in.  Sometimes this turned to atonal music, but sooner or later would return to the humming.  His chest started to itch.  He had strange thoughts.  At one point some erotic music started to play above indistinct voices.  In his mind Kyle imagined erotic women slowly undressing, but when they were naked they had cocks.  Still, they were terribly enticing.  Other thoughts arose; Kyle with breasts, Kyle in a bustier, and Kyle with a tiny cock.  His thinking seemed to be different, and fuzzy.  He could only think about woman's clothing, being beautiful and servicing men and women.
 
Five days later Kyle was taken out of the room and showered, or more accurately hosed down with cold water.  As he dried off he looked in the mirror.  Again, the phantasmal hand grabbed him and chills ran up his spine.  He had breasts bigger than Derek's and his cock had shrunk.  A wave of embarrassment swept over him as he covered himself with the towel.  The embarrassment wave turned to a tsunami when Kyle was handed pink panties and pink jumper number 117.  He dropped them and stared at them, someone stuck another needle in him and he woke up in the afternoon wearing the panties and jumper.
 
Kyle pulled up the jumper and looked at the panties he was wearing.  He felt an odd tingle of excitement, then guilt, dropped the jumper hem, then pulled it up again.  The tingle came back.  Soon a nurse escorted him to a glass walled office.  Behind the desk sat a 40 year old woman with a doctor's coat over a dark, sexy purple dress.  Her hair was done up in business like fashion, yet her makeup was on the heavy side.
 
“Sit down Kyle, or should I say Creature 117.  I am Madam Ladycraft and I am in charge of this wing of the training center.  You are here because you committed three offenses, the third being when you tried to escape.  Our purpose is not to punish, (although we rather enjoy doing it), but to train you for a role in society.  Since you failed as a male it is best you become something else.”
 
Kyle was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Already embarrassed, he started thinking about what was in store for him.
 
“We are starting your training today.  First, you are no longer Kyle, you are Creature 117.  If you say Kyle you will be punished.”  Kyle started to protest but Madam Ladycraft held one hand up stopping his speech and showed him a riding crop in the other. “Punished 117, punished 117, understand. Now what is your name?”
 
“Creature 117.”
 
“I can't hear you.”
 
“Creature 117.”
 
“Better.  You will get no more shots.  You will take your pills instead.  You have work to do, cleaning dishes in the center's kitchen.  You will relax and listen to training tapes for three hours a day.  You will have an hour a day in the exercise area and you will begin with lessons on good grooming and manners. You will be disciplined for any shortcomings.  Now, grab one of those booklets on the table Creature 117 and go!”
 
The booklet entitled Your New Life appeared to be somewhere between Mao Tse Tung's Little Red Book and a Catechism.  Much of it was meant to be memorized by the Creatures.
 
Mistress Dominica and Mistress Lycra were the Madam's lieutenants.  They saw that things got done. Unfortunately Creature 117 was assigned to Mistress Dominica, the harsher of the two.  In the next two weeks Creature 117 ran afoul of her twice resulting in the Mistress dishing out two spankings with a riding crop.  The following week Mistress Dominica was away on assignment, and Creature 117 got in a disagreement with Mistress Lycra and acted snotty.
 
Orderlies brought Creature 117 to Madame Ladycraft immediately.  On Madame's Orders they put a collar on 117, handcuffed her in the madame's pink furry handcuffs from her office and attached those to the collar.  Then they rubbed camphor on 117's bottom and boi parts bent her over and Madame commenced to whip her bottom with the crop.  
 
“I'm disgusted with you,” swish-slap, “Mistress Lycra is a kind gentle person,”
swish-slap, swish-slap, “and you totally upset her,” swish-slap, swish-slap.  Madame went on in this manner as the stinging from the crop was accentuated by the camphor. 
 
 The beating intensified, Creature 117's boi parts began to sting intensely as well.  117 began to cry and then blubber, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't ever, I won't ever do it again.”
 
The punishment over, Creature 117, still crying and still in pain, was put into a dark room for an hour, then cleaned up.
 
A few days later was a banner occasion for a repentant 117.  That was the day she got her first pink bra.  Mistress Dominica commented, “Ooh you're a B-cup already! Now go to class, it's already started”  117 didn't feel embarrassed anymore, she felt more tingly and excited instead as she entered the classroom.
 
The chanting began on page eight, “Without a master or mistress the sissy is nothing.  I receive my masters juices.  I am a plaything for my mistress's desires.”  Rocking back and forth they repeat it again and again.
 
There was a bulletin board in the common room with a list of job opportunities: maid, prostitute, sex therapist,s assistant, sex slave and a few others.  When she passed the board sometimes 117 would stop and wonder what job she would get.  She didn't have to wait long.  Soon she was called to Madame's office.
 
“We have a job that I think you will soon qualify for. We don't often get calls for these.”  Madame looked thoughtful and rested her chin on her riding crop.  “Your vitals are just right for it, and perhaps we can improve your attitude.”  117 shook her head up and down.  “It's a job as a milkmaid.”
 
“Will Creature 117 be milking cows?”
 
“Not exactly . . . we will start today to ready you for the position.  Oh, your name will no longer be Creature 117.  Our client wants you to be named Heidi.”
 
Heidi was moved to Mistress Lycra's section, given a new white smock with red polka dots on it and a name tag. She was also given a new diet with milkshakes because, “They have lots of calcium. You will need a lot of that and progesterone.” Heidi looked blank.  The explanation didn't register.
 
After a few weeks Heidi's boobs swelled so that she didn't fit the C-cup bra they recently gave her.  Her nipples and arteriole got bigger and darker and more sensitive.  She was told to rub them four times a day with a special cream which she really liked doing, as it made her all tingly.  Soon she noticed that they leaked a little clear fluid.  Heidi told her Mistress about this.
 
“Ah, good,” said Mistress Lycra, and she assigned another girl to work with Heidi.  Heidi would take off her bra and Susie would suck on her nipples.  This would excite Heidi.  Warm tingles would go throughout her body and what was left of her boi parts would get hard and throb.  The first time Susie sucked Heidi's nipples they both became excited, ducked behind a laundry cart and Heidi sucked off Susie's little boi parts. Susie softly squealed, bucked her back and squirted out two little spurts of delicious cum. Susie reciprocated and sucked off a happy Heidi. As she came she pulled on her own nipples and little waves of pleasure went up and down her body.  After two days Heidi's breasts were making milk.
 
During the next two weeks Madam Ladycraft put the finishing touches on Heidi.  A skilled tattoo artist came to the institution as requested by Heidi's new owner and tattooed on her new “insignia”.  It consisted of a wide triangular tramp stamp above her butt.  At the outer edges there were mushrooms, but as it neared the center the mushrooms morphed into penises which seemed to ebb and flow as if underwater and stirred by some current.  A few were spurting.  Above the stamp he tattooed:
 
Heidi
The Milkmaid
 
After the tattooist finished Madame Ladycraft looked at the artwork, clasped her hands together and cooed, “Isn't that lovely.  Sort of post-Mapplethorpe or Judy Chicago gender switched”  She envisioned herself a connoisseur of art.  She took a picture of it and showed it to Heidi.  Heidi's face turned red as she gagged with humiliation, but she managed to utter, “Uh-huh.”
 
Madam Ladycraft presented Heidi with sets of three different types of nipple clamps, and explained what each were for, “These are everyday ring style nipple clamps.  They can cause a moderate level of pain. These next ones are adjustable so if your master wants you to be in a lot of pain he can crank up the intensity.  Finally this last type are specifically designed to keep your milk from dribbling out.  If you were servicing people at a party you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?”
 
Heidi shook her head no.
 
“This is important, let me show you how they work,”  Madame put two rubber covered clamps on Heidi's nipples and clicked them until there was slight pain.  “Here's how they should be adjusted.  As you rotate the outer ring they get tighter.  Leave these on as your boobs fill with milk.  I will be back in six hours. Your boobs should hurt and be engorged by then.  Don't you dare take off the clamps!”
 
Just after dinner Madame called Heidi into her office,  “Pull down your smock and let's see those breasts.  Hmm, nice and full.  Do they hurt?”
 
“Yes, Madame Ladycroft.”
 
“Good, but I see there is slight leakage under the clamps. Let's tighten them one more notch , , , there.  Now always make sure they don't leak and you need to wait two more hours until 9:00 before I release them.  We are training you to hold onto your milk with patience until someone wants it.”
 
“Oh no,” thought Heidi, “More pain.”
 
At 9:00 Mistress Lycra called Heidi over to a couch, “Time to be milked she said cheerily.”  Lycra summoned two other girls and removed the clamps.  Milk started oozing out as if from a spring.  The two other girls did not have to be told to start sucking.  Most food was synthetic, processed from oil, and didn't taste that good.  The milk tasted real.
 
As the other girls sucked away Heidi felt a warm glow and tingles within her.  When Heidi was empty Lycra had the girls suck a bit more and massage her breasts.  You'll make more milk that way she said.”
 
Lycra had Heidi replace the clamps and told her that her next milking would be at 7:00 AM.
 
“Oh no,” thought Heidi, “Much more pain.”
 
Before she went to bed Heidi looked at the bulletin board.  Madame Ladycraft had posted a 5X7 picture of Heidi's tattoo with a caption, “Our Latest Work of Art” underneath.  A wave of humiliation washed over Heidi and she ripped the picture down, threw it in the waste basket, ran to her bed and sobbed in her pillow.
 
A little later she realized she would get a whipping for what she did so she snuck back to the bulletin board.  The picture was torn and Heidi had a twinge of panic,  But she noticed a medical crash cart nearby.  She rammed the cart against a post adjacent to her picture.  “There,” she thought, “They will think an orderly was careless and will tell the on-duty nurse.  The on duty nurse will say that she will correct her staff and will do nothing.”
 
That's exactly what happened.
 
At 6:00AM Heidi was sitting up in her bed, her arms under her swollen breasts.  The aching was getting worse and the clock seemed to go slower and slower.
 
At 7:30 Mistress Dominica called Heidi and two other girls to begin Heidi's milking.  When she removed the clamps milk spurted out of Heidi's nipples.  “Aah.” she said, “That's what I like to see.”  As the other two girls started sucking the milk Heidi began to get aroused. Mistress Dominica noticed Heidi's little boi part was standing at attention.  Suppressing the urge to slap it with a riding crop, Dominica told Heidi to play with it, which soon resulted in two drops of ooze seeping out of it.
 
“This will never do,” Dominica uttered under clenched teeth.  She ordered an adjustment in Heidi's milkshake formula to fix the problem.  Heidi never came or got an erection again, well almost never.
 
Two weeks later Heidi graduated.  She was told that her name was officially Heidi The Milkmaid; first name Heidi, middle name The and last name Milkmaid.  Her very name had become an embarrassment.  
 
Her master had sent an outfit which she was to wear.  Heidi removed the smock, slipped on a new set of pink panties with red polka dots and a matching shelf bra.  Unfortunately the new bra did not cover her nipples. Then she put on a light wight puffy top, a skirt and a short corset that laced up the front.  She looked as if she was ready to serve drinks in a German beer garden.
 
Outside the front of the training center sat a modified Humvee with a metal dodger and machine gun on top and the words “Eagle Security Delivery” written on the side.  When Heidi entered the vehicle there were two other girls in it, one in a maids outfit and the other in somewhat sexy attire.
 
Eventually the Humvee dropped off the other girls.  It then continued driving west into Arkansas.  Heidi occasionally looked out the little window in the Humvee.  After awhile the land became hillier and the road wound through the hills and dales.   Here in the Ozarks there were lots of burned or dead trees and shrubs, but there were some live ones too.  Past a defunct bait shop and then a burnt out wreck of a car the Humvee turned right.  Heidi hoped they would get there soon, as milk was welling up in her breasts.

Chapter two

The Humvee drove through a guard station at the front of a security area. It looked like an eight or nine foot high brick and stucco wall, but there were security cameras all along it. Inside were several mansions surrounded by about 400 acres of land, a six hole golf course and riding stables. . Heidi was deposited in front of an over-sized ultra-modern villa.

Veronica a sexy thirty two year old with an attitude answered the door. “Oh, the milkmaid's here.” she announced cheerily. “Leave your sheep and goats outside and come in Fraulein. J. W.'s expecting you, except that he's fallen asleep.”

Veronica disappeared and reappeared with a ninety year old in casual lounge clothes. J.W. Posey introduced himself as he walked into the entry room. He seemed to be a friendly type and within five minutes he said in a high crackly voice , “Well lets try you out.” J. W. led her into the lounge and settled into an oversize sofa.

“Show me your equipment, sweetie.” His eyes twinkled as a seven year old might when he realizes that there is a new b-b gun under the Christmas Tree.

Heidi pulled off her top and took off a nipple clip. J. W. took out his dentures, grabbed the tit and started sucking. As he sucked he made small squeally noises and wiggled his feet back and forth. When he finished one side he got up and poured himself two shots of bourbon in a highball glass, brought it back to the couch and had Heidi fill it up the rest of the way with milk from her other breast.

J. W. put his dentures back in and decided to give Heidi the mini tour. There were some sports trophies in the den, a pool table and a framed picture of the first well he had drilled, since J. W. was an independent oilman. After the party room and his bedroom he waved down the hall, “Jenny's room's down there. Uh, my wife. Your room and the other girls rooms are down that way.” he waved with the other hand. Then they passed through the solarium, the dining room and finally arrived in the living room where Veronica was hanging out. J. W. had skipped showing Heidi most of the mansion.

J.W. Stopped in front of a huge painting on the wall, “Sixty two years ago, I met T. Boone Pickens,” he paused, a wistful look in his eyes. Half a minute later he started to narrate in his high raspy West Texas voice, while unseen,Veronica mouthed the words behind his back, “On the wall behind his desk was a big painting by G. Harvey. It had an old town, cowboys and twenty nine oil wells in it. I know. I counted 'em. I wanted that painting but he'd never sell it, so I went to the artist and had him make me a bigger one with fifty oil wells. Now, this year I will have drilled more wells than Pickens.”

“I'm the number one independent oilman.” He thought and grinned a wistful grin.

As J. W. turned around and set his highball glass down Heidi whispered to Veronica, “What's J. W. stand for?”

“John Wayne,” she whispered back.

J. W. turned around, grabbed Veronica by the waist and said, “Let's go to the rumpus room an' make a rumpus. They disappeared and the tour was over.

J. W. was easy to satisfy, even though having a ninety year old sucking on your tits is creepy. His wife, Jenny was 46 years old and hadn't slept with him for four years, instead she had her live in lover, Carlos, a young Julio Igliasias look alike, keep her sexually satisfied. Even though Veronica and Rita kept J. W. more than amused, Jenny developed an instant dislike of Heidi.

One day a few weeks after Heidi arrived Jenny told Heidi to wait in the den. Soon Carlos came in, looked at her and said, “I want you to get up on the pool table.”

Heidi looked at him quizzically.

Carlos grabbed a pool cue slapped it on the side of the table and said, “On the table now!” He slapped the pool cue across Heidi's thighs.

In the background Jenny appeared just outside the den with a drink in her hand and a smile on her face, as a frightened Heidi crawled up on the green felt. Carlos continued, “ let me see your backside.” Heidi, on all fours turned her backside to him.

Carlos entangled the cue tip in Heidi's panties and lowered them to her knees. “What have we here? Take them off, spread your legs.” He put the cue tip on the remains of Heidi's boi parts. “Whatever that is eet's pathetic.” He flipped the parts back and forth with the tip. “What ees it?” He flipped them back and forth harder.

“It's my, my . . . aaagh!” cried Heidi.

Jenny took a sip of her drink and softly giggled.

“From now on eet's your baby pinky pee-pee part. Say it.” Carlos jammed the cue into the baby pinky pee-pee.

“It's my baby pinky pee-pee part” cried a red faced Heidi.

“Now play with it.”

Heidi tried but nothing happened.

“I knew it. Let's see if this makes them work.” Carlos pulled off his pants and entered Heidi's backside. Heidi was totally humiliated, but it soon felt good inside her and she rocked back and forth to get more of it in her, Her boi part got stiff, the whole inch and a half of it, and she moaned when Carlos's load coated her insides.

Carlos pulled out and pulled on his pants and said, “ Lick it up and don't drip it anywhere,” over his shoulder as he left.

A minute later Jenny Posey entered the room. “What on earth are you doing, you filthy disgusting creature!” she said in mock surprise as Heidi leaned on the edge of the pool table collecting the cum that oozed from her ass and eating it. The total humiliation was complete. Heidi picked up her panties and ran from the room.

From that day forward Heidi could never look Ms. Posey in the face again.

Two weeks later the Posey's put on a party. Heidi was in her usual Fraulein outfit. There were a few new guests and of course J.W. maneuvered them over to the picture and began, “Sixty two years ago, I met T. Boone Pickens. On the wall behind his desk . . .” Then, when the soliloquy was over, J. W. grabbed Heidi, pulled the skirt up over her ass to show off her tattoo and announced, “Here's my newest piece of art.”

J. W. told Heidi to wait in the den. Eventually he came in he was with three other men. “So business is good,” he mused to the others, “Even though the population of what used to be United States has dwindled to about 80 million, They still need lots of oil and gas for the power plants that run the air conditioners.”

“I guess I'm invested in the wrong thing,” said one of the others, “I thought wheat futures would go sky high because of the heat and drought, but there was none at all this year. You can't make money on nothing.”

“It's all over, no more wheat, no more corn,” retorted J.W., “That's another thing I'm making a killing in, synthetic food. It's all made from oil. Hey, let's have a drink. If you want some milk in your bourbon I'll show you how to use Heidi.” He pulled down her top, took off her nipple clip put it in his pocket, grabbed her tit and squirted some milk in his bourbon.

About three minutes later one of his guests asked, “J. W. could I have a little milk in my bourbon too?”

“Sure thing.” J. W. said as he pulled down Heidi's top again, uncorked the other tit and put its clip in his pocket.

Jenny Posey came by and told Heidi to get behind the bar and make some drinks. After making several, Heidi left to find J. W. and her missing clips. Jenny found her before she could find J. W. “I told you to make drinks. Are you missing half a brain?”

Heidi went back and made more drinks. When Mrs. Posey came back to check on her, her jaw dropped. “You disgusting excuse for a girl, Come and look at yourself.” Jenny Posey pulled her over to a mirror. Heidi had two wet milk stains down the front of her blouse. “Can't you take care of yourself? Useless twit. It's lucky this isn't our San Jacinto Day party, all our friends would be here. You are done here for this party. You embarrassed us enough today.”

Heidi grabbed a spare top from her room and went to the laundry room to rinse out the milk stains. Over the running water she heard a familiar voice, “So you been a dirty leetle girl, oops no a see-see with a baby pinky pee-pee.” Carlos put a hand on her neck, “Pull your panties off! Pull up your skirt! Tell me about your baby pinky pee-pee. What does it do?”

“It pee-pees.”

“What else? What else? . . .Nothing. Tell me that.”

“It . . .”

“No name it.” Carlos snapped it hard with his finger. “Do I have to remind you with a pool cue?”

“ My baby pinky pee-pee pees. My baby pinky pee-pee does nothing else. It doesn't get hard and it doesn't cum.”

“Better, now lean over the folding table”

Carlos slid out his stiff member and plunged it into Heidi's ass. At first it hurt, but then she started to get hot and moved her ass forward and back.

“Like that huh? You scummy little slut, here it comes.”

Carlos deposited his load and walked off. Heidi held a washcloth under her crotch took her panties and top, ran to her room, locked the door, flopped on the bed and cried. Crying made her feel better and eventually she played with her breasts and her boi parts, worked a dildo inside her and came. Then she fell asleep.

Six parties and seventeen months later J. W. passed away in his sleep. Ms. Posey was anxious to get rid of Veronica, Rita and Heidi as fast as possible. She sold Heidi's contract to someone in Sunrise City Domes for practically nothing and had the Posey's private pilot fly all three to Tulsa.

As They flew over Tulsa on the way to the airport Heidi saw a serious plume of smoke rising from Broken Arrow off to the southeast of Tulsa. What used to be three homes and their landscaping were reduced to an acrid cloud, charred wood and ashes. The pilot pointed out the larger survival domes below in Tulsa to Veronica and Rita since they were to be unceremoniously dumped off. “ . . . and below us is the Oral Roberts University Tribulation Dome and up there off our right wing is the Philbrook Twin Domes and further out the Gilcrease Dome. I'd forget ORU if I were you girls.” He skimmed low over the Arkansas River turned back toward the airport and landed.

The airport's had only one functioning terminal section, and the air conditioning had to run full blast to keep it at a tolerable 85 degrees. As Heidi sat in the airport she thought she felt everything jiggle. She was well and couldn't figure out what it was. Two hours later an Eagle Security Delivery Humvee picked Heidi up and deposited her at the Sunrise City Domes near Sequoya about twenty miles northeast of Tulsa. It was one of the largest dome complexes: 5 domes interlocked containing about 1,200 very rich people, their servants, and of course the Sunrise City Dome Outer Guards, just over 2,200 souls in all.

Chapter three

Heidi was deposited in a waiting room, because security could not find her new owner.  Six other people were there: three delivery men, an old couple and a highly bored Mitzi.  Mitzi appeared to be about eighteen to twenty, thin with small breasts.  She was wearing black suede bootlets split down the sides with chunky heels. She had tight black jeans with threadbare spots and a black t-shirt with VOMIT written across it. Her lower lip was pierced on both sides, and there was a piercing in her nose.  She had piercings for earrings to match.  Her hair was done in a wide Mohawk which starting at the roots was: black merging to purple merging to blue.  She drifted over toward Heidi.
 
“Wa' ya' here here fo' girl? Never saw ya' fo'.”
 
“I just got here.  Hi I'm Heidi the Milkmaid, my new master has not arrived yet.”
 
“Jesus, an' I'm the tooth fairy.  No-no-no. Hi, I'm Mitzi, but everyone calls me Spike.  Sooo,  a master.  That a dom thing?”
 
“I'm supposed to give milk to anyone who wants it.”
 
“That's rad.  I'm here for my weekly visit to my pro.  S' all for nu-thin' really. Bend a few rules n' they get bend 'ya back outta shape.”
 
“What's the Vomit on your shirt?”
 
“Oh they're just a grunge rap band.  There's a few bands in this gulag, but not half's good.  What about your dom master, chains-n-bondage, leather-n-kink?”
 
“I don't know, my last master mostly just got off sucking my boobs, occasionally something more.  His wife was a super B.  Hey, it feels like everything is jiggling . . . again”
 
“Oh that.  The assholes fracked everything from here ta Okey Dokey City and beyond.  Down there, way down underneath, the groun's rubble, 'an now it shakes real good. We get little and bigger quakes all the time.”
 
They talked for about ten minutes longer. Spike told Heidi how to get in touch with her.
 
Heidi's new master finally showed up and Spike drifted off.  Kevin Rath was totally unspectacular in appearance.  He looked to be about thirty five, average height and fifty pounds overweight.  He was out of shape and his complexion was sallow, as if he saw the light of day for five minutes a month, which was not far from the truth.  Kevin thought his mustache and goatee made him look cool.  In truth it did nothing.
 
“You're Heidi?”
 
“Yes sir.”
 
Kevin rode with Heidi to his apartment in an electric cart or pod, as only electric carts were allowed in the dome.  Inside the apartment, Heidi set down her bag.  The living room had a lot of electronic equipment spaced about it.  In between it was somewhat messy.
 
Kevin stuck out his hand, “Where is it?” he asked.  In response to a blank look from Heidi he added, “Your operating instructions.”  Heidi fished around in her backpack and handed him a leatherette bound booklet.  The cover had “Your Special Unit” embossed on it.  Below was printed “Master's Choice, Inc.” and “https://www/masters-choice/technical-assistance/ep=6/docs.”
 
Kevin showed Heidi where she was to sleep; a room barely larger than a closet, and told her, “ Come back and straighten out the living room, but don't touch the electronics or the computer because I design computer games and don't want anything fucked up.”
 
Kevin plopped on the couch and opened the booklet. Folded in the inside pocket of the cover was the Posey's receipt.  J.W. Posey had paid $50,000 for Heidi.  Kevin paid Mrs. Posey $3,000 for her.  Kevin chuckled and read on. 
 
“Congratulations on acquiring your new associate unit (AU).  All units have 2 chips embedded near the base of the brain.  The first chip is a tracking device.  You can track your unit with a computer or cellphone app. (see page 3).  The second chip is a personality and function chip. Your AU chip has her basic programming on it (see pp. 4-7). The AU chip also has specific programming:
Prostitute models P103, P104 or P105 (see pp. 9-11), 
Maid models M-17sissy, M-19sissy or M-20utility(see pp. 13-16), 
Fantasy models F-201 through F-209(see pp. 17-21) and 
Other models OT301through OT307 (see pp. 22-26)
You may custom program your AU unit using instructions on pages 31 to 43.
Master's Choice guarantees programming for 5 years”
 
Kevin turned to page 22.  
 
Half an hour later Kevin finished reading the OT and custom programming section.  He called Heidi over and said, “Let's see what you have.”
 
Heidi pulled down her blouse top and Kevin sucked on a tit.  When he had enough Heidi tucked her boob back in.  Kevin then ran his hands down to Heidi's butt and clit.  As he ran his hand over Heidi's clit, a quizzical look crossed his face.
 
Kevin put his hand over Heidi's clit again.  “Raise your skirt.” he mumbled. Heidi raised her skirt and Kevin felt again, “What's this?” he queried.
 
“The training center didn't remove my boi parts, they just shrunk them.”
 
“Oh crap, that'll never do.”
 
Keven called Dr. Magnus, and the good doctor scheduled Heidi for Thursday.
 
On Friday Keven and Heidi appeared for outpatient surgery.  Keven gagged when he heard it would be $3,000 for outpatient surgery and a $2,000 followup surgery two weeks later.  Keven asked the doctor if there were any alternatives.
 
“ Well you said she gives milk, and head too I suppose?”
 
Kevin nodded his head.
 
“Hmm.  I could use her for some private fun and ceremonies.  Tell you what, if I just remove the balls and reshape things, the little penis will get quite a bit smaller 'till it's like an oversize clit; less surgery, and I get use of Heidi when I want. . . Oh yeah, and put a Dr. Magnus character in your next video game.  Make him evil. . . and I'll do it all for $1,000.”
 
Kevin nodded his head. 
 
On Saturday Heidi mostly rested and Kevin had his bro's over.  Dale and Steve were cut from the same cloth as Kevin, both were gamers and Saturdays and Tuesdays were gaming evenings.  Spike found out about Heidi's operation and came by to see how she was.
 
Sometimes Kevin, Dave and Steve played on linked computers, but often they played on a large game table with a 2' X 3' touch screen embedded in the middle. Tonight the three sat at the table, the glow from the screen lighting up the lower parts of their faces, but they hadn't started their game yet.  Kevin was troubled.
After Kevin told his buds too many details about Heidi he loudly confided about his latest problem, “I don't like this Heidi, the milkmaid persona that her former owners thought up.  I need to come up with a new name for her, something more edgy.”
 
“ Gilta of Pandaria?  Illa of  Mogu?”
 
“What, does she look like a troll to you, Steve?”
 
“Uh , Asako or Kiko?” Dale meekly suggested.
 
“Doesn't work.  We'd have to turn her into anime.”
 
A long silence ensued.  Kevin drummed on the table with his fingers.  Steve wondered what he was doing here.  Dale thought about naked anime females.
 
“Ambigua.”
 
“What Dale?”
 
“Ambigua!”
 
“Hmm, that's original.  I like it.  Ambigua;it's kind of ambiguous.  Ambigua of . . . Ambigua, Galactic Lactator!  I'll have Sergei the the tattoo man change the name over her butt.”
 
Spike stuck her head in the room, “You assholes suck!” she pointed at Dale, “You're name is now Dipshit.” she pointed at Steve, “yours is Cumslime,” she pointed at Kevin, “and  yours is Fetid Shit, Blubber boy of the Universe.  I'll write it on your foreheads with this indelible marker.  Ever wonder why I'm into gals not guys, assholes?”
 
Fifteen minutes later Heidi was falling asleep when Kevin stuck his head into Heidi's closet. “Hey Spike we need a forth for the game, wanna play?”
 
“Sure asshole, (let the Insult-fest begin).”
 
On Monday Kevin put on his baseball cap to take Heidi to see Sergei.  He had to wear the hat because during the game Spike's character challenged Kevin's to a duel with consequences.  Kevin lost and Spike wrote 'Shithead' on Kevin's forehead with the indelible marker while his laughing friends held him down.
 
Sergei's Tattoos was located in a remote corner of Sunrise City Dome.  Sergei Volkov was finishing up a tattoo on a woman's leg and signaled Kevin and Heidi to sit down.  After he finished the tattoo he talked to the woman a little, she made a joke, paid him and left.  
 
Sergei looked at Kevin, “You want tattoo.”
 
“No, it's for her.”
 
“You pick out something from drawings and books, or I do something special.”
 
“No, we know what we want,” Kevin talked while Heidi rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “We want you to take this one off,”  Kevin pulled up Heidi's skirt, “and put this on.”  He handed Serge a piece of paper.
 
“OK.  Nine hundred dollars.”
 
“ I'm Kevin Rath originator of the Galactc Doomsday series.  I thought I could put you in one of my video games as a major character. and maybe pay Three hundred.”
 
“I'm wolf from Peter and the Wolf.  It's a thousand and put me in your game, or not. I don't care.”
 
“You just said nine hundred.”
 
“A hundred for your bullshit.  What's written on your head?” Sergei pulled up the cap brim. “Ha-ha, I do that one for nothing.”
 
In the end Kevin paid Sergei a check for a thousand, and Sergei removed the “Heidi, The Milkmaid” caption.  “Let it heal, and come back next week.  I put on new name then.”
 
By the following week Heidi became, Ambigua, Galactic Lactator, at least that's what it said above her rump.  Her embarrassment about this name change was different than the last time; more embarrassing, but she wasn't a nobody anymore.  Then Kevin had her put on her new outfit, to be worn around the apartment and when accompanying Kevin on special occasions.  It was a cross between a Thai temple jacket and skirt and something from Babylon 5.  Of course it was bare breasted.  It came with two new metallic gold nipple clamps that not only held the milk in but also suctioned her nipples out, so that when taken off the nipples were huge.  Ambigua looked in the mirror and simultaneously had feelings of self loathing and arousal.  She groaned.
 
Kevin immediately became aroused seeing Ambigua in her new outfit.  After sucking on her tits he got a huge hard-on.  He sat on the couch and grabbed her.  Looking earnestly in her face he gasped, “Suck my cock.  Suck it now.”
 
Ambigua pulled off his pants, then his shorts.  First she put his throbbing member between her bounteous breasts and tit fucked it,  Then she put her lips around it and licked the tip.  She could taste the drop of pre-cum in her mouth and she sucked harder taking it in deeper and deeper until it erupted in the back of her mouth.  Ambigua swallowed the cum and cleaned off the tip with her tongue.
 
After it all was over Kevin thought, “That's good, but I bet we could do better.” After a bit he grabbed a beer  and Ambigua's operating instructions. 
 
Two hours and three beers later, sitting at his computer, Kevin had customized Ambigua's chip.  Now she would be addicted to cum, talk in sexy suggestive ways and be codependent on him. Kevin couldn't wait until Saturday to show her off.  Meanwhile, he had become horny, so he called in Ambigua from her closet and told her to put her hot dress on.
 
Ambigua entered the room wiggling her body.  “Did you want me, big boy?”  She licked her lips and ran her fingers past Kevin's crotch. 
 
“How are your boobs, full of milk? 
 
“Ready to burst, and all for you.”
 
“Good, keep your clamps on.  I want your pain to mix with pleasure, because I am your master.  Tell me what you want.  Do you want me to fuck you?  Do you want to eat my cum?”
 
“Please fuck me; fuck me deep.  I want to eat your cum.”
 
Kevin had Ambigua dance for him all while telling him how much she wanted to drink his cum.  Finally he couldn't stand it any longer and told her to pull off her skirt and panties and get on her knees.  Kevin mounted her and had her guide his cock into her brand new pussy.
 
Ambigua couldn't help herself she felt so hot.  She wanted to eat Kevin's cum, but he wanted to fuck her.
 
Kevin switched holes.  His strokes rammed his cock deep into Ambigua's ass.  With each stroke she felt hotter and hotter. “Do you want my cum?  Do you want my cum?”
 
“Uh!  Uh! please can I have your cum?”
 
Kevin was ready to pop.  He pulled out and Ambigua sucked his cock into her mouth in one gulp.  Kevin exploded and yelled obscenities as he emptied his balls down her throat.
 
Before Saturday Kevin had Ambigua's lips enlarged, and when his friends arrived he showed her off unmercifully.
 
The following Monday Spike slipped by to see Ambigua.  Kevin was gone when Ambigua answered the door in her Babylon 5 outfit.
 
“What the hell happened to you girl?  Why don't ya pull off those nipple clips?  Your boobs look like they're ready to explode.”
 
“I can't.  Kevin wants me to have lots of pain so I like it when he takes them off.  I want to suck his cum.  It's so good.  I like it when he fucks me.  Sometimes he fucks me and takes the clamps off and my milk squirts out and he milks me while he fucks me.  He likes that. I want to serve him.  He's so wonderful.”
 
“Kevin? Have you lost your mind?”
 
After talking to Ambigua more Spike definitely concluded she had lost it, then she saw the leatherette booklet “Your Special Unit”.  Spike opened it and read a little.  “Ohmygod, Ohmygod, he programmed you.”
 
Spike read further.  Kevin's computer was still on.  He had forgotten to shut it down, so Spike linked her cell phone to the special unit program on his computer and downloaded it.  Then she copied all the pages in the booklet on his printer.  “We'll fix him,” she promised, “ and at my leisure.”  Spike hugged Ambigua and left.
 
Kevin returned twenty minutes later.  “Dr. Magnus just called me.”  He groaned, “It's bad enough he wants a piece of you, but on short notice.  I never should have agreed to his deal at all.  He will have a pod come by at four.”  
 
At four the pod picked up Ambigua and deposited her in front of a shoe store.  Inside the counter girl told Ambigua there was a dress for her and they would find matching shoes to fit her.  Twenty minutes later Ambigua left with shoes and dress.  A pod took her to the Magnus residence.
 
After dressing in a silver metallic sheath dress and a faux fur stole she was to go to Dr. Magnus's lounge.  Everett Magnus soon entered and escorted her to a nearby theater.  A small orchestra of about 15 played a few classical pieces, then there was an intermission.  Everett put in an appearance with several of his friends.  It seemed that they mostly talked about a lodge they were in, supporting the orchestra or dome politics.  As people started filing back in Everett asked, “Had enough?”
 
Ambigua nodded and they left.
 
Back in his lodge Dr. Magnus poured them some cognac.  “Did you know cognac goes well with milk?” he mused.
 
Ambigua dropped a strap and the good doctor enjoyed some fresh milk.  He then had Ambigua remove her dress. After she licked his cock hard he dived deep inside her first in the front where she felt a warm glow as he thrust deeper and deeper, then finally from behind.  His balls slammed on her rump and his throbbing member got bigger and bigger, finally exploding it's load deep inside her.
 
Soon after Magnus told her it was time to go, but that he would need her soon for a special job.  “Better leave your new outfit here, Rath is a vindictive sort, it's best to be low key.” He called for a pod to take Ambigua home.
 
Spike sat in front of her computer, around her were scattered pages from the booklet “Your Special Unit”.  It took her awhile to figure out how to deprogram the chips in Ambigua's head, but by now she had written down the steps she wanted to take.
 
First Spike went through her program to erase the extra kinkiness Kevin had added.  Satisfied, next she erased as much of the remaining program as she was able.  “There you are my pretty, pretty.  I should turn you into one of my myriad minions, perhaps a flying monkey, but I won't.” She attempted to cackle to be funny.
 
Spike attempted to disable the tracker chip in Ambigua.  This was harder to do, because the programming was simpler and more robust, but finally she thought she had it.  Spike transmitted her commands three times to be sure, then lit a joint in celebration.
 
Kevin was still up when Ambigua arrived.  “Well is the doctor satisfied now?' He snarled.
 
“Totally, I fucked his brains out.  Four times. They had to resuscitate him.”  Ambigua retorted as she headed to her hole in the wall.  Her control chips had just been disabled and s/he now thought more like Kyle.
 
Kevin did a slow burn, but he didn't move from his computer.
 
In her nest in the closet Heidi/Kyle began to panic.  To make it worse  the biggest quake yet shook her hideaway. Nothing was right. She felt all over her body.  With hesitancy she grabbed her clit/penis.  It was so small.  “If I rub it will it get bigger?” doing this made Ambigua hot.  S/he grabbed the dildo s/he was given on graduation from the training center.  In and out it went and s/he bucked several times and orgasmed, but nothing came out of her boi parts.  Sleep followed.
 
Early in the morning while Kevin was asleep Ambigua went to Kevin's computer, called up one of his favorite gaming characters, changed it from a 23rd level Paladin to a 3rd  level scullery maid, and named it Kevinita, Wench of Scum.  Then she took forty dollars that was on the table, all her belongings (it wasn't much) stuffed them into a backpack and took off to find Spike.  Spike appeared to be home and Ambigua slipped in the back way.  Spike had been half expecting her.
 
“Ditched Jabba the Slug?”
 
“Uh-huh.”
 
“How's it feel to be free?”
 
“Weird, sort of like Kyle and Heidi combined.”
 
“Gotta hide you.  The Slimelord of  the Computerverse will alert Cyber-Gestapo thatcha  bugged.  You're going to Freddie's.  'S gone for several days.”
 
Freddie's was small and cluttered but cozy.  Spike and Ambigua hung out for a bit, then Spike disappeared and reappeared an hour later with a jar that said “Erotique” on it.
Spike wiggled the jar at eye level and asked, “Wanna have some fun?”
 
Ambigua shook her head yes.
 
Clothes off except for bras and panties. They robbed a tiny bit on their wrists.  Soon their wrists began to tingle.  Next they tried tiny bits on earlobes and armpits.  Again more tingle.  Now the bras came off and more cream went on their breasts.  After the tingle began, touching each others breasts sent major tingles out in all directions.
 
“Uh Spike, my boobs are loaded with milk and starting to hurt.  Could you suck them off?”
 
Spike obliged and as she sucked down the creamy liquid the milkmaid's body tingled and throbbed.  S/he moaned and wiggled getting closer and closer to an insane orgasm.
 
Ambigua then smoothed a little dab around Spike's clit and sucked her off.  Spike moaned, bucked and wreathed.  She peaked, and Ambigua soon brought her to the penultimate orgasm.  Spike reciprocated.
That evening they plotted how to get Ambigua out of dome city.
 
Hiding near the transport depot they spotted a delivery truck ready to leave.  Spike went up to the driver and said, “I think your front tire is going flat.” 
 
When the driver looked at the tire Ambigua slipped into the back of the delivery wagon.  
 
Keven went into a panic around three in the afternoon when he realized Ambigua had split.  Next he found that he couldn't track her on his computer link.  On the last page of his operating instructions he read a notice, “In the case of chip failure call the number below.  We will track your unit, return her if we find her and replace the defective chip(s).  This service is free only for the original owner.”
 
“Oh shit.  I have to pay again?”
 
Keven called the number and told the lady on the line that, “  I am J. W. Posey.  I am visiting Sunrise City Dome and my unit vanished. She couldn't be tracked.”
 
“What is your unit's serial number?
 
“OT-304-026”
 
After several more questions the lady on the line said she would notify some trackers.
 
The next morning Kevin called Dr. Magnus.  “Ambigua is missing.  I think her tracking chip is shot.  If they find her I need your office help to say that J. W. Posey her first owner is under your care and can't be disturbed.”
 
“Are you insane, that's unethical.”
 
“It's not a big thing and no-one gets hurt. It actually helps . . .” Kevin rationalized for two minutes more until Dr. Magnus hung up on him.
 
The delivery van headed in toward Tulsa and turned right.  When the van stopped for a light on South Yale, Ambigua slipped out of the back.  Late in the morning in mid April it was a tolerable 85 degrees.  Ambigua walked back up Yale for a block to Tally's Cafe.  Part of the neon sign was off but it was open. As she sat over her synthetic biscuits, gravy and scrambled eggs she started to wonder how she would survive. “Wash dishes or turn tricks I guess,  and I'll have to find someplace to stay.” she said to herself.  She left full and about thirty dollars poorer.
 
Vacant houses were easy to find.  A lot of people just weren't there anymore. Almost everyone looked hungry and tired.  The summer heat would soon come again, people succumbing,food harder to come by than in Memphis a few years ago, but there was still plenty of gas.  Ambigua trekked her way closer to the center of town.  Stay away from the domes, they might be looking for you there.  Around 5:00 PM she found a vacant house to her liking, and that evening she serviced a customer.
 
The next morning Ambigua got up late and did a continental breakfast at Spring Cirque Coffee.  Just sitting in the trendy upscale coffee house made her feel good. Unlike almost everywhere else in town they kept it up.  The fancy coffee tasted exquisite, so she treated herself to another, even though it was pricey.  She took a Bismark with her.  
 
A block away a skinny girl stared at her with big dark eyes.  Was she six or seven years old?  You couldn't tell, perhaps not eating enough.  “Do you want the rest of my pastry,” Ambigua asked.
 
The little girl reached out for it.
 
Ambigua noticed she was full of milk again, even though she hadn't taken her supplements for two days.
 
“Want some milk with that?”
 
The little girl shook her head yes.
 
Ambigua led her to a darker space between two buildings, and it took a little encouragement for the girl to get a good drink of milk with the dessert.
 
The two trackers sat across from each other at the wooden table.  They had just finished their synthetic bacon and egg breakfast at Jimmy's Egg.  Now they worked on the refill cups of coffee, reminiscing about OU football.  They had to reminisce, In these trying times there wasn't much of that to look forward to, but the smells from the kitchen were good so they lingered a little longer than usual.
 
Carl got in the drivers seat of the Land Rover and Earl took the seat beside him for the informal morning briefing.  “Earl, would you get out our cases for today?”  Earl was older than Carl, but Carl was the hotshot and usually told Earl what to do.  
 
Earl slid three orders out of the manila envelope, “These are new.  First one's a Unit F-207.  Her owner found her tracker chip on the edge of the sink with a little blood on it.  Someone probably got it out with a jackknife, and of course she's gone.”
 
“She either took it out herself, kind of unlikely, or if someone else did it, they may put in a new chip and traffic her for thirty five or forty thou used.”
 
“An F-107 is a Geisha model.  They traffic for double that.  It's all the extra training they need for manners and makeup and learning to be good in conversations.  A chip won't do that.”
 
“God, how I hate those F units, always causing trouble, and this one's going to be hard to find.”
 
“Not quite.  She's one of those models with a secondary tracker on her personality chip.”
 
“You know those secondaries are almost useless, you can barely pick them up a quarter of a mile away.  What's next?”
 
“Second ones a sissy model, her owner habitually has her do errands to Oklahoma City or Muskogee, and she gets lost or distracted for a day or two.”
 
“Polly Petunia?”
 
“Yes, Polly Petunia.  Pretty routine when her tracker comes into range.”
 
“. . .and the third one?”
 
“An OT-304.  Probably went missing the night before last.”
 
“What's an OT-304?”
 
“Milkmaid, something unusual.  Messed up some of her owners things, grabbed a few bucks and took off.  Her tracker is shot, or almost.  Once in awhile it flashes for a few seconds or half a minute.  We know she's in Tulsa, but where?”
 
The two trackers planned out their scanning run heading west and then north past the Tribulation Dome, then they would track and drive east and west on streets a half mile apart since the F unit was their first priority.  Carl turned the rig out onto West Kenosha and the search of the day was on.
 
Ambigua noticed the man was looking at her.  Sensing he could be a client she slowly headed his way.  “Hi there.  You busy?”
 
“Not too busy for you.”
 
The banter went on for a few minutes.  Jerry, although his name was anything else but Jerry, chatted Ambigua up.  “Jerry” was about medium height, thin, like almost everyone else anymore,  wore a work shirt and jeans with a key chain on a carabiner and shock cord  attached to his belt.  While far from the ideal man he would do for today's work. Jerry suggested they go on a picnic.
 
The picnic idea sounded great.  Ambigua agreed.
 
They got in his car and drove south, then west across the Arkansas River onto Avery Drive.  They continued until they came to Chandler Park.  No one was there.  The sign said it was closed Monday, and it was Monday.  Jerry parked the car on the side of the road  and talked Ambigua into taking a walk.
 
It was a low almost level area where they walked in.  Shortly they could see ahead some wide sinkholes with grassy bottoms surrounded by limestone sides.  Jerry held Ambrosia's hand and turned right heading up a low hill. 
 
Ambrosia began to feel uneasy about it all.  She dropped her hand and let it drift toward the side of Jerry's leg as there appeared to be something odd there.  The object was hard and large.  A knife of some sort, hidden under his jeans.  As they topped the hill and started down the other side Jerry said, “My daddy told me that fifty-sixty years ago they used to call this area The Catacombs.  Wonder where they buried the bodies.  Nice quiet place to do it.  You can do anything with the dead.”
 
By now the hair was standing up on Ambigua's neck.  Jerry had his hand on her shoulder as they slowly descended the hill toward a field with several fifteen to twenty foot high limestone buttes in it.  As Jerry's grip got tighter Ambrosia could hear him start to breathe heavier.  She noticed the keys on the leashed carabiner.
 
Deftly she slipped carabiner and keys off, pulled away and said, “Hey, Jerry.”  As she threw the keys she yelled “Fetch.”
 
Jerry swore at her, “. . . you bitch!” and ran to get the keys.
 
Ambrosia ran in the other direction, she thought, but eventually wound up in some thick bushes and rocks.  Here she hid, worried that her anxious breathing would give her away.  At times she could hear Jerry in the distance searching for her, cursing under his breath.
 
For about ten minutes she heard no sounds at all, then she heard footsteps right behind her.  Her heart beat in her throat.
 
“Stand up Miss Heidi. C'mon stand up.”
 
As  Ambigua turned she saw, not Jerry but a man in a Khaki uniform, and another ten feet behind him.
 
“I'm Earl and that is Carl.  We're here to take you home.”
 
As they headed toward the Land Rover a gentle rain began to fall.
Carl headed southwest toward the Daisy Training Center in Oklahoma City.  The business had expanded, consolidated and renamed itself in the year and a half since Kyle became Heidi.  Carl stopped in Bristow and picked up Polly Petunia along the way. She had taken the wrong bus to the wrong place.  At the center the technicians would re install new chips in Heidi, nee Ambigua, give her a day's test and rest and drive her home.
 
The Training Center called Keven and told him that they found Heidi and that they would re-chip her and send her home.  They also told him that the chips were now standardized and could not be reprogrammed.  Keven silently cursed to himself.  Then they told him that for thirteen hundred more they could add the Ero-Slut, or erotic-slut super-chip.  “Costly, but worth it.” Kevin thought.  Carl and Earl would deliver Ambigua to the front gate of Sunrise City Dome on a rainy Wednesday at 10:00AM.
 
Kevin met the delivery on time with a money order he had made out from J. W. Posey and the old owners manual.  It was good enough for Carl and Earl, and Ambrosia was back, with a new owner's manual.  Kevin suspected Spike had something to do with Ambigua's disappearance, so he got a restraining order, easy enough to do because she was on parole.  She couldn't come within 100' of either Kevin or Ambrosia.
 
It rained heavily in the next two weeks, fine for the people in Sunrise City Dome, but the rains were widespread and flooding was on the way.  The floods hit Tulsa in the middle of May.  By then the rains had stopped again and the temperature was reaching 100.  There was 8 foot deep water in the lowest parts of the city.  Most everyone coped with that, but a week later cholera broke out, and three days later malaria and dengue fever. 
 
Sunrise City was well insulated from all the ills that surrounded them.  Only deliveries went in and out of the gates.
 
By late June the floods had long since subsided and the diseases ceased spreading, but there were a lot less people left in Tulsa.  As it dried out temperatures climbed to 112.  There would be no rain at all after that for a long time.
 
Back at Sunrise City Dome Dr. Magnus had a pod pick up Ambrosia.  Over a light lunch he told her that she was supposed to be part of a rite, and he explained what she was to do.  The ritual would be on Saturday night and last late. She should wear the outfit Kevin got her.  It would be appropriate for what she was to do.
 
“I don't expect any trouble from Kevin.  He tried to get me to do a few illegal things, and if he appears ready to make trouble tell him that Doctor Magnus knows about all his recent scamming.”
 
Late Saturday afternoon Dr. Magnus sent another pod for Ambigua.  She took the outfit 
Kevin had bought for her.
 
At Dr. Magnus's, Ambigua applied her makeup accentuating the eyes and drawing the eyebrows out a bit wider.  When she was done and dressed the doctor gave her a large gauzy shawl to cover.
 
After another hour Everett and Ambigua took another pod a short distance to a modest sized but elegant Arabian style building. They entered by the side door where two of the doctor's friends had already arrived.  Don Pennyman was a well known city councilor.  Ambigua did not know who the other man was.  For ten minutes the three talked city politics then other men started to arrive.
 
The good Doctor brought Ambigua to a small chamber attached to the ceremonial room, then left to don his robes.  Ambigua sipped some water and nibbled cookies while looking through a 10 year old National Geographic as she waited to be called.
 
As she stepped into the ceremonial room it was dim.  Lighting was by candles on the walls and by two larger candles in large holders about five feet high set apart, on either side of the altar.  There was a oversize leather bound book on the altar.  A large silver goblet and a scourge were on either side of it. Wisps of smoke drifted from a large incense burner. Men stood around the edges of the room. Ambigua counted sixteen.  The youngest appeared to be in his late teens, the oldest almost eighty. Most wore Grey robes, three wore white robes and four wore only loincloths.  A few of the gray robed men, including the doctor, wore silver chain necklaces  with silver medallions around their necks.
 
The oldest man medallion-ed and in gray told the Sargent at Arms  to close and secure the outer doors and then called for the rite to begin.  He motioned for Ambigua to kneel in front of the altar.  Then all the men stepped forward into a large circle.
 
Another medallion-ed man with a sonorous voice chanted a phrase in some unrecognizable language in several directions.  All the men together except the ones with the loincloths chanted more phrases several times. 
 
A man the doctor addressed as Epopt looked at Ambigua  and said in a deep voice, “Let the Mater Lactator stand before the altar, and let the Pueri honor the Magi and step forward and face her.” 
 
Four young loin-clothed men bowed to the old man, the doctor and the city councilor.  Then they stepped in front of Ambigua.  The Epopt boomed, “Let the children be sustained.”
 
Ambigua pulled back her gauzy wrap and two by two suckled the young men in loincloths.  When she ran dry the Epopt instructed them to leave to the outer chamber and Frater Robert, one of the men in a white cloak, to follow and take the great book to teach them Canto Three.  Finally he had the other two in white cloaks stand in front of Ambigua.
 
Ambigua dropped her wrap.  “Show yourselves to the Meritrice Magna.” the Epopt stated.  The two dropped their robes.  “Give the Great Whore your gift.” They looked blank.  “Give her your gift!” he boomed.  Ambigua touched their limp dicks which stirred a little, then she touched their hands.  The two caught on and started stroking. 
 
Soon Ambigua could see their cocks throbbing.  She held out a hand to each.  Both came in the palm of her hands.  She licked up the cum from first one hand and then the other.  “She has accepted your gift.” the Epopt said, then he motioned for Ambigua to get on the altar. As she crouched on the big piece of marble he pulled up her skirt and mounted her from behind.  Guiding his dick into her puss he started a slow rhythm.  Now going deeper and deeper Ambigua began to moan, her insides began to tingle until they were coated with a gush.
 
The Epopt withdrew and put the goblet underneath her, collecting his and her juices, adding some wine and presenting the goblet to the two naked men, “ Male and female conjoined magically to create a completion of the magical work.  Drink deep.”
 
After that the two men were each flagellated by the Sargent at Arms with strong strokes, donned gray robes, and everyone hugged the new adepts.
 
Ambigua was still on the altar on all fours.  Now the Epopt bowed to the old man and handed him the scourge saying, “Hail Magus Prefect, your will be done.”
 
Fortunately the Magus Prefect was feeble, and the blows he rained down on Ambigua's backside only reddened her derriere and inflamed her hornyness.
 
Next three other adepts approached the altar.  The rest stood in a circle and watched, some with a dexterous hand under their cassock.  One of the three slid under Ambigua and had her mount him, another mounted her from behind and the third filled her mouth with his member.  As she felt the three inside her the one on his back pulled and twisted her nipples. Now she felt little tremors  of pleasure from her nipples radiating into her body.
 
The tingle inside Ambigua rose to a fever and she twisted and bucked in ecstasy.  Deeper and deeper inside she was getting hotter and hotter and exploded in uncontrolled pleasure as one after another they all discharged.
 
The ritual ended and all had coffee and cake.
 
The dog days of summer arrived hotter than ever and several times outsiders tried to get into the dome. The Outer Guard who had once been militia usually scattered them with rubber bullets back into the roasting furnace of eastern Oklahoma.  Now some outsiders arrived armed and there were skirmishes and several fatalities. People inside dreaded the thought of running out of money and being ejected into that midsummer hot hell but it happened on a regular basis.
 
By late fall Kevin faced the dread of expulsion. His finances were on the verge of nonexistent, and several checks bounced.  His latest video game did not sell well either.  In desperation he went to Dr. Magnus and tried to sell Ambigua for $20,000.
 
The doctor laughed, “Kevin, you paid nothing like that for her. I know.”
 
They dickered for awhile.  The doctor finally offered Kevin $8,000 and he took it.  Three months later Kevin would be broke again, owing money, finally to be expelled, and likely not to last through the next summer.

Chapter four

Ambigua asked the doctor to have the restraining order against Spike removed. He did it the next day. The doctor had some political clout and Spike was off probation anyway.

When Ambigua finally saw Spike again she looked different. She was growing out her hair. It now was dark with a streak of blue, and she was dressed in a pinstripe suit over a steam-punk top. “I've got a job, “ she announced. “I'm an assistant dispatcher and procurement clerk with the dome maintenance department. Had to sell out a bit to get it. Want to go ecstatic with some Erotique? No one's home in my folk's house.”

Ambigua agreed and on the way to Spike's home, Spike told her how busy her job was, “They have to keep repairing the dome constantly from all the tremor damage. This year it got so hot they had to add a lot more air conditioning.”

Ambigua told Spike about the ritual.

“That's wild. Maybe I can pull the chips. I heard the mind police put more in you . . . back to freedom, ya' know,” Spike suggested.

“Oh no, Kyle and Heidi only get me in trouble. The last time without my chips was scary.”

Dr. Magus asked Ambigua how she felt about “Galactic Lactator” tattooed over her butt.

“I don't like it. I get embarrassed”

Dr. Magnus took Ambigua back to Sergei.

“I remove it for $120, we do it now.” was Sergei's admonition.

In less than an hour Sergei had it off. Sergei looked at the two, “I show you something, come.” He led them to a back room that was his living quarters which also was a small art studio. On one side was a sculpture with a sheet over it. “I keep it clean.” he explained as he removed the sheet.

Underneath was a ¾ sized acrylic statue of a woman with complex ivy foliage that stood out in bold relief and ran down one side of her body. Sergei pointed, “Relax and look closely.” He ran his finger down through the foliage.

Both Everett and Ambigua looked at the statue and each other. Both had their mouths open.

I saw, “ Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.” said the doctor.

I saw, “You are loved,” said Ambigua, “written right between the leaves.”

“This, my masterpiece. I look for someone to tattoo this on, a masterpiece alive.”

The doctor and Ambigua looked at each other, then at Sergei. They had smiles on their faces.
As time went on the tattoo grew; up and down the right side of her body, around the outer sides of her breast, growing, creeping, reaching the side of her neck, then descending down the thigh, down, down the right calf, finally deciding to grow down the right arm to the wrist.

When Ambigua showed Spike her tattoo, she told her how there were words hidden in it.

Spike told her, “It's your mind and the doctor's minds playing tricks on you.”

“No it isn't, I see it. Right here, 'You are Loved'.”

Spike found a mirror, and told Ambigua to look at it in the mirror. “Now find the backwards writing.” She said.

Ambigua looked and saw none, Then she said, “It says, 'You will take a long trip', right here in he mirror. Wow! It works backwards too!”

“It proves it's all mind games.”

“No it isn't.”

In the end Spike didn't convince her at all. Eventually Ambigua left in a huff.

Months went on, fall turned to winter and that to spring. Dr. Magnus's lodge celebrated the Feast of Lupercalia in February, everyone flogged everyone and they all did Ambigua, and read her tattoos. It had become part of the ritual.

From her ankles to her ear everyone everywhere could read everything in Ambigua's tattoos, that is everyone except Spike who was sure they imagined it all. Spike got some respect in her job, so she decided she liked it.

Then the rains and flooding came, worse than last year followed by malaria and cholera and dengue fever, worse than last year. The flooding undermined the Tribulation Dome and the next set of tremors set it all to falling apart.

About six or seven years ago the Reverend Billy Joe Dalyrimple was on his way to growing his church into a mega-church, but the Lord seemed to have intervened. All the horrible weather diminished his flock, and he reinterpreted Revelations to see if the end times had indeed started in earnest. What he decided it all meant furnished him with sermons for a month. After that he packed up and moved to Tribulation Dome, but Tribulation Dome was becoming his nemesis. Reverend Billy had plenty of competition, and his nest egg steadily decreased. In the spring of 2035 that all ended. The dome had become uninhabitable, so he packed up again and moved to Sunrise City Dome. There he started a small congregation.

One Sunday in late November Ambigua decided to drop in to The Church of Eternal Hope. Services had already started and the congregation was singing. Ambigua slipped into the last pew.

After the hymn there was a quiet pause, then Reverend Billy Joe took to the pulpit and began to preach. “Everyone wants abundance. The rancher wants baby calves; the farmer wants a big harvest. But how will the farmer have a harvest if he doesn't plant.” Reverend Billy quoted several Bible verses and then got to the point, “Just like the farmer if you want abundance you must plant first. One kernel of corn turns into one ear of corn. Think how many kernels are on an ear.” he paused to let the congregation think about this.

“If one kernel turns into one ear then one hundred kernels turns into one hundred. That's how abundance works, “ he continued. “We don't have corn to plant but we can plant money, and where does the Lord want us to plant it? In the church to support the ministry. The more you plant, the more abundance you will have.”

The reverend ended the sermon with another Bible verse and ushers passed the plate. Ambigua had five dollars, so she put it in the plate.

Tuesday after another magical meeting at the lodge in May Everett closed up the clinic early. The last two patients had canceled. When he got home he noticed Ambigua hadn't finished her cleaning. Things escalated and became an issue. The doctor told Ambigua he would have to punish Ambigua for that. Lately he had been punishing her a lot. Ambigua had to put on a spider patterned leather body harness and heavy makeup. Then there were strokes with a riding crop on her behind inter spaced with touching near her va-gi-gi. Ambigua was getting aroused. Finally she was told, “No sex for you tonight, and you may not touch yourself.”

The following evening Ambigua finished all she was told to do, but when the doctor came home he decided to punish her anyway because she hadn't anticipated his unspoken needs. Ambigua again had to put on a spider patterned leather body harness and heavy makeup. This time she had to tighten the spider harness a little so it pulled her lower lady lips apart. Then there were more strokes with a riding crop on her behind inter spaced with the touching. Ambigua got very aroused. Finally she was told, “No sex for you tonight, and you may not touch yourself.”

Ambigua had to fight with herself not to touch her private parts that night, but she did it. She woke up the next morning still horny and frazzled.

That evening the doctor came home again early Once more Ambigua had to put on the spider patterned leather body harness and heavy makeup. Then she had to tighten the straps so that her lady lips were pulled wide apart. Next the doctor suspended her by furry handcuffs, ankle cuffs and a body strap. Next was a big decision, belt, flail, scourge or riding crop. He started out with the belt. After a few strokes he switched to the riding crop, as it was much more accurate and precise. Ambigua's bum started turning red and she started breathing heavily. “What do you want naughty girl?” he asked.

Ambigua wanted to be coy, but she couldn't. She was already too hot for that, “Ooh, something special for my cunt.”

“Describe what's so special.” he said as he continued the spanking.

“It's big and hard and long and thick and . . . I want it”

“Greedy little thing, more blows for your lust and greed.”

“Oh I want it now! I need it now! Cure me doctor!”

“Here is your prescription,” and he rammed it in her backside.
“Ooh-aah, doctor, doctor, oh it feels so hot in there. I need to take three doses!”

All at once Ambigua felt that she was swinging this way and that and back and forth as well. “Ooh fuck me, ooh fuck me good,” she cried.

The doctor's eyes widened, it wasn't the sex, it was a quake. A big one. As he grabbed onto the frames around Ambigua to steady himself, she exploded in an earth shattering orgasm, making him explode as well.

The doctor released her from the frame as she scooped up the cum dribbling down her leg to eat it. “Never mind that,” he said, “Get over there to safety.

When Friday dawned a rattled populace looked out on extensive damage. Three of the interlocking domes were fixable, but the other two were hopeless. The doctor would be working twenty hour days for the next week and a half attending to the injured.

It wasn't long before the corporate owners of Sunrise City Dome announced that they couldn't keep everyone there, 500 people would have to leave and they would determine who they would be. Immediately there was a political battle with city hall. Then the real battle began.

The Outer Guard faithful to the owners started evicting people. The city police faithful to city hall tried to stop them and evicted different people. The riots started, then the shootings began. Spike kept going to work right through the melees with a look of disdain on her face. Four days into the chaos she was shot. Ambigua hid out in the doctor's house.

When it was all over the Outer Guard prevailed. Any city police were dismissed. The mayor and a city counselor had been fatally shot and Don Pennyman and the doctor were jailed on conspiracy charges and inciting to riot.

Ambigua went to Spike's funeral and afterward stopped by the church again. Reverend Billy consoled her, although what he said would have made Spike turn over in her grave.
Eventually Reverend Billy noticed the tattoo that wound up the side of Ambigua's face.

“You can read things in it.” Ambigua said. “See, it goes all down my side.”

Reverend Billy looked and started following something down the side of her face, then her side. He followed it again open-mouthed. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” he read. “That's Romans 3:23.” He got very excited and managed to read two more Bible verses.

From that moment on Reverend Billy was totally interested in Ambigua.

The situation only got worse for the doctor. The owners gave Captain Varner of the Outer Guards carte blanche to run the city. Varner brought in a few more militia friends of his and gave himself a promotion to Colonel. The guards harassed people they didn't like and treated prisoners worse. Some prisoners disappeared.

Soon Varner found out about the lodge and put out the word that: it was full of crooked politicians, it had dark rituals and perhaps human sacrifices and it proved the conspiracy theories.

The doctor got word to Ambigua to hide somewhere besides his house, or better to leave if she could and avoid the Outer Guards. The next day she was at Reverend Billy's church with all her belongings plus a few things the doctor had told her to take.


Chapter five

Ambigua parked her backpack and a laundry bag behind an open door in the church, sat and tried to think what to do next. She was still sitting there twenty minutes later when Reverend Billy walked by.

“Oh you're the lady with the Bible quote in your tattoo. Ambrosia?”

“No Ambigua. Everyone gets it wrong the first time, and I have more quotes.” She crossed her fingers behind her back.

Billy looked down her side. At first he saw nothing. Then he gasped, “ 'May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine.' That's from Song of Solomon 7:8-9!” The Reverend stood with his mouth open.

“Since you mentioned breasts, mine are full of milk. Want some?”

Indeed Reverend Billy did, and more. After twenty happy more minutes in his office, door shut of course, Ambigua had found a home in the church.

Ambigua didn't go out much. With the doctor in jail she was afraid she could be next.

Out of boredom Ambigua went to services and bible study, almost any other group that met there, and to hallelujah trysts with Reverend Billy. On the second Sunday she spotted two men sitting in the pews she thought were Outer Guards and slipped out into the kitchen to avoid being seen. She heard that some of the political prisoners had disappeared and hoped the doctor was not among them. She also found out that Reverend Billy was worried, he had lost almost half his flock when the riots and expulsions happened, and his flock was small to begin with.

“What should my next sermon be, priming the pump, should I do another series on Revelations or Ezekiel?” He mused.

“Why don't you read my body, maybe it will tell you what to do.”

Reverend Billy smiled. Then he scanned the tattoo on the side of Ambrosia's body. Again, at first nothing happened, then he read, “Go thou to the great city and gather a congregation. Hmm that's not in the Bible, but it tells me what to do. Great city, there are no great cities anymore. No great cities, they're all falling apart. No cities, just . . .just . . . The Excelsior Domes, built near Kalispell, Montana. Almost seven thousand people. Yes!”

The Excelsior Domes were built as a last resort for the super rich and all the servants and tradespeople they needed. Reverend Billy thought how they might prime the pump for his new church and of course a prosperous church needed a prosperous preacher at the helm. He could start on his mega-church.

Reverend Billy soon announced that God had told him to leave to found another church and anyone who wanted to follow was welcome. A deacon would take care of the flock that was left.

It was mid May when Reverend Billy pulled out of what was left of the domed city in his big white Lincoln with gold and white leather interior and a sound system second to none. As they left Ambigua sighed in relief. The trunk was full of books and pamphlets and the back seat was full of clothes and other things, almost all of them Billy's. That left the front seats for the reverend and Ambigua. A few of his flock said that they would follow in a day or two.

Soon the powerful Lincoln turned onto U.S. 60 to Bartlesville, The road hadn't been repaired for a long time. The rains had not come this year and it was hot and dusty. Reverend Billy had to go slow and by the time he hit Ponca City he had wasted a lot of time. Soon after he turned north on a much better road to Whitcha. When he got three miles into Kansas there was a toll booth ahead. “Hmm,” he thought. I don't ever remember a toll booth here.” But there it was, painted blue with a sunflower on it and “South-central Kansas Toll” written across the top.

Reverend Billy pulled up behind another car. Two uniformed toll-takers were pulling the driver out of the car and a third watched with his hand on his pistol. The man was struggling and the two knocked him to the ground and kicked him a few times.

After five minutes more of confusion one of the toll takers got something out of the car and let him through. The toll takers approached the Lincoln.

“The toll is $100.” said the man in blue.

“What, that's absurd. I'm turning around.”

The third toll-taker put his hand on his pistol again.

“The toll for passenger cars is $100, unless you are delivering with an invoice. You just drove through three miles of Kansas. If you turn around it's still $50 and then you have to pay an Oklahoma toll of $30. If you can't pay we take merchandise.”

“I'm a Reverend.”

“Well in that case it's $50.”

A grumbling Reverend Billy paid the $50 and drove through.

By the time they got to Wichita it was getting late, so they pulled into a motel. When they entered, the young man behind the counter told them the motel was recently retrofitted with extra insulation and a huge cooling system to deal with the new climate so they should be comfortable.

Ambigua told him, “I hope so. Reverend Billy is upset with the toll he had to pay. And they beat up the poor man in the car in front of us too.”

“ That's what the trolls do. Which way are you going?”

“Toward Denver.”

“Um, hate to tell you this, but there are two more troll booths on that road. If you start with a full tank of gas you could go by Dodge City. No booths that way.”

The white Lincoln had turned tan, before unloading they went to a nearby car wash to restore it's pristine color. When they were settled in the room, as Ambigua dug in her pack for her moisturizing cream, instead she found a very small gift wrapped package. “I wonder what this is,” she mumbled. There was a tag on it that said, “Sorry you lost your freedom, but here's something for an evening's fun – Spike.” She tore off the wrapping. Inside was a tiny jar with 'Erotique' written on it with indelible marker. “Oh,”she chirped, “Just like Spike.”

“What's that?” asked Billy.

“A treat.”

Ambigua put on her spider patterned body harness and climbed in bed with Billy. “Say your prayers,” she whispered, putting a dab on each of his nipples and his penis. As 'Erotique' started to do it's work she put some on all of her favorite places, then finished putting what was left on Billy's earlobes and butt.

Within about three minutes Billy was hard as a rock and Ambigua started sucking him off while working his nipples. Her lips started to tingle as he pulled out to mount her, “Backside.” she moaned, and he did. As he plunged deeper and deeper her butt tingled inside of her, tingled her tits, tingled where Billy was rubbing them. Ambigua was going torrid fast; a scorching oven, a rocket launch. Liftoff, Ambigua bucked and exploded in ecstasy, slipping away from his cock just in time to get it into her mouth for the juicy finale.

The next day the reverend and Ambigua headed toward Dodge City. The road seemed deserted so eventually Reverend Billy let Ambigua drive. He dropped his seat, put his boots on the dashboard and took a nap. Ambigua drove past Ford, which looked derelict, Dodge City, which didn't and Cimmaron and Ingalls which did.

“What's that? Reverend Billy what's that?” Ambigua put her hand on Billy's shoulder and shook it.

“Wazz, uh. Uh what?”

“What's that?” Ambigua pointed ahead.

Reverend Billy awoke and stared at a huge black cloud heading toward them at ground level uttering, “Haboob!”

“A kabob?”

“No, a haboob, we have to find cover fast. Did you see anything?”

“A couple of miles back was an old grain elevator.”

“Stop! Turn around! Drive like hell!”

By the time they approached the grain elevator the haboob had gotten much closer. It swirled to great heights and stretched out across most of the western horizon. Lightning shot across the blackness.

The grain elevator was deserted, and there was a garage there too. Billy got out quickly and swung one of the doors open. After they drove in they were only able to get the door mostly shut. They got back into the car and everything went black.

Hours later it was gone. The sky slowly cleared to a late afternoon and there was now a sand pile around the door. Fortunately there was an old shovel in the back of the garage and Reverend Billy and Ambigua took turns shoveling the sand away from the door. Night fell and they slept in the car.

The next morning they started shoveling again. At about 9:30 they saw a pickup heading east on the road, an hour later a sedan headed west. By one they had shoveled themselves free. The rested and ate whatever food was left in the car and headed west.

After the storm the arid land looked more like a desert than ever before. In about twenty minutes the road was diagonally striped with streamers of sand. They thought about backtracking, but soon saw a red arrow pointing left. Taking it as a detour sign they turned left. Eventually there was another red arrow. Now they turned onto a side road that passed two abandoned farms. When they passed a third farm the road made a right angle turn around the farmhouse and dead ended.

Reverend Billy started to turn the car around when three men came out from behind the barn. Two had rifles pointing right at Billy and Ambigua. The third man bellowed, “Stop or your dead!” Trembling, Billy stopped the car and the two raised their hands. Then they had to get down on their knees behind the house, and Billy had to toss his wallet on the ground. Two of the men got in the car and left with car, money and credit cards. The third man got in another car hidden behind the house and followed behind the white Lincoln.

Reverend Billy and Ambigua did the only thing they could do, start walking back the way they came. The afternoon sun was hot and they had no water. After awhile they stopped and sat in the shade of an abandoned car, then on for awhile until they reached another abandoned farmhouse. They rested here till after sundown.

Reverend Billy shook Ambigua awake an hour before midnight. “We better walk now. I saw this old movie about Laurence of Arabia and that's how they traveled in the desert, at night.”

A few hours on they came to a bridge over the Arkansas River. It was bone dry. What little might have been there was all hoarded in dams upstream. Then they came to the turnoff and headed for Dodge. The first three hours after dawn it was comfortable, but by noon heat waves shimmered just off the ground. They had stopped and rested a few times but Reverend Billy was not looking good. Ambigua put her hand on his forehead. Billy was burning up and his face was red. They sat down.

“I think I hear a car.” Ambigua said, “. . . I hear a car!' The little dark speck on the eastern horizon got bigger and bigger. Ambigua stood in it's lane and waved her hands frantically. The car did not stop. It swerved into the other lane around her, the driver cursing as he passed and it got smaller and smaller. All was quiet again.

“Let's find some shade.” Ambigua said to her ailing companion. A mile further was a dune alongside the road and nearby a piece of corrugated steel roof. Ambigua angled the thin metal plate into the dune so they could have some shade.

Reverend Billy was ailing bad now, breathing heavy and muttering, “A great congregation. . . church on the hill. . . will make it . . .can see it now. Need to read your body.” Ambigua obliged. Billy looked at the tattoo and started reading verse after verse in an agitated slurred incoherent voice.

Ambigua finally had to tell him to rest a bit and then he could read some more.

Two hours later she thought she heard a car. Looking both ways she saw a pickup coming toward them from the west. As it got closer she could see it was a forty year old Ford pickup with red paint peeling off and primer in between. She waived her hands, more feebly than before; she was feeling weak and dizzy.

The pickup slowed and stopped. A weather beaten man of sixty got out and told her, “You look in bad shape. Get in.”

“There's the Reverend too. Over there. He needs help bad.”

The man walked over to the shady area and looked. Then he knelt down and looked closer. “He don't need help anymore.”

The man gave Ambigua some water and then a can of pop from his cooler. He backed up the pickup to the body and somehow got it in the pickup bed, helped Ambigua into the passenger seat and drove toward Dodge.

Five more miles down the road Ambigua asked the driver to stop. There by the side of the road was her backpack and laundry bag and a pile of the reverend's books and pamphlets. Quite a few of the pamphlets had blown off in a stream to the east. Ambigua collected her stuff and the man collected an armload of books and drove on.

The reverend was buried two days later in Dodge. Before he passed away on the sand dune he told her he had a money belt on, and Ambigua used some of it to bury him and kept the rest.

After the funeral Ambigua went back and sat on the porch outside the room she rented at the western edge of town. The sun was low in the late afternoon sky. It was still and silent. The sparse clouds in the west were starting to take on yellow and orange tinges. Ambigua looked at her tattoos. There was no writing, no cosmic messages. She slipped off her clothes and looked again. Just a foliage tattoo, that's all. After several minutes of searching she slipped her clothes back on and immersed herself again in the silence, a silence in the landscape of nothing, an innerscape of nothing inside her within a landscape of nothing. The sun dropped lower.

Evening the following day was the same. The desert beyond her was barren interspersed with the flotsam and jetsam of a few collapsed houses and the rusted metal of abandoned cars. The desolation inside Ambigua was just a continuation of that in front of her.

There was a soft scurrying just beyond the fence, half of which was gone. Part of a small face with big eyes appeared at the fence edge. Ambigua beckoned it to come, and warily a small child, thin and malnourished, moved two steps forward, then two more peeked around the fence edge. They were “mads” or nomads, probably orphans, no parents anymore, living on scraps from a dying civilization. Ambigua spoke softly to them and the three children finally came to her. She bared her breasts and fed and caressed them until she was dry, then told them to come back in the morning for more.

The children scurried away. Ambigua did not know how long any of this would last. She would stay here and turn a trick or two, or wash dishes to survive. She thought about being a milkmaid. For the first time she felt very good about it. Being a milkmaid was an honorable profession.


The End

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jamie

Thank You for accepting my application and allowing me the privilege of entering the interior of Your site. It has indeed had a profound effect on my psyche. i view myself as transgendered, and i have been progressing along the… Read more “jamie”

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