The Tough Chick Trilogy

By Dr. S.A. Heils-Sparks

THE TOUGH CHICK TRILOGY is for nearly all women and a few strong men! It contains a fast-paced novel (FUTURE FUCHSIA FUSION) about sexual politics in a world run by women, a stream-of-consciousness piece (BURIED ALIVE AND WANTING OUT) portraying a modern woman struggling with her aloneness, and a darkly funny novella (THE AMERICAN WAY) that chronicles the events of a fated family reunion in Kentucky at Christmas. THE TOUGH CHICK TRIOLOGY reflects womens fantasies, fears, resiliency and humor while challenging the imagination about what is and what is possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 17, 2002
• ISBN: 9781462833573

Dr. S.A. Heils-Sparks

S.A. Heils-Sparks is a psychotherapist and nursing instructor, and lives in San Francisco. She believes education is the cure for most of the world’s problems. She is politically focused and agrees with environmental experts that women’s rights (especially in Third World countries) are crucial to the survival of the planet. A member of Mensa, she urges smart people everywhere to unite their brain power and resolve humankind’s problems before greedy, delusional men take us all down. Dr. Heils-Sparks previously published The Tough Chick Trilogy, which stimulated great controversy and a cult following.

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THE TOUGH CHICK TRILOGY

Dr. S.A. Heils-Sparks

Copyright © 2001 by Dr. S.A. Heils-Sparks.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to

any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

FUTURE FUCHSIA FUSION

Moonlight and Kisses

Exile

Rendezvous at the Recycling Center

The Confession

Fate Assists

Seduction

Visitations

Alone Again

The Voices

Peace with Reality

The Threat of Annihilation

Regeneration

Freedom

A Kinder Repression

It Takes a Real Womon

The Dilemma

Revolution

The Maturation Solution

Emergence

Values Clarification

BURIED ALIVE AND WANTING OUT

Transcending Decay

THE AMERICAN WAY

The Bust

The Release

The Victims

The Interventions

The Events

Epilogue

DEDICATION

To my mother—the toughest chick I’ve ever known! (And a special thanks to Cleopatra, the Amazon Women and the Whore of Babylon.)

FUTURE FUCHSIA FUSION

Moonlight and Kisses

THE NUDE, SLEEKLY muscled young womon with a cap of short, dark hair on her head and pubis stared adoringly at the organic remains of the young male. He had been very pretty with curly yellow hair that fell around his shoulders, pale blue eyes rimmed with smoky blue liner, and glossy blue lips. Stars shined softly from the ceiling, flattering the flawlessness of his dark amber skin (which was accented with simple, yellow bodyart) and his bone structure.

She hummed along with the strange strains of predigital orchestral music and remembered a male cultural artifact she once saw in a museum. Prince Valient! That’s who you look like! Fair Prince Valient with curl replications! She inspired deeply as she climbed on top of the newly transitioned body. Hi, Prince! You smell wonderful! She gazed into the exquisite, fixed eyes and smiled as the Bach fugue swelled. Prince Valient! Are you my prince? Her pale mouth touched his already cold lips gently. You’re not going to awaken to my kiss, are you? She looked into his eyes again, as though waiting for an answer. His lip gloss stained her mouth comicly. Covering his oral orifice with hers, she began rubbing her pubis against his unresponsive genitals. Blood oozed out of his mouth but she didn’t notice. Her tongue swept his teeth and cold oral cavity faster and faster as her hip gyrations increased.

Terrorist alarms at the oceanside El Cajon residence suddenly shrieked as big, muscled womyn in crisp, white uniforms burst into the room. The odor of melting plastil wafted behind them. They crouched and steadied their weapons in the direction of the naked young womon with the bloody mouth as she climbed off the male.

Goddoss Mothor, Our Creator! The incredulous Domestic Order Engineer clutched her immobilizing unit and froze, incapable of processing what she was witnessing.

Please! The cornered womon pleaded. Please! I didn’t assist him! I just . . . I just . . . She looked down at her torso and gestured toward her groin.

Goddoss Mothor!, the DOE repeated.

Exile

TONI’S FLAME-COLORED hair projected out of her head like a burning bush and contrasted strikingly with her pale amber skin. She brought the blunted tip of her nose to within a millimeter of the picture of the penises. The photograph fascinated her even more than the other phallic likenesses displayed at Amsterdom’s sex museum. She had never seen anything like it! She knew there was a time when the male appendage was functional but had not known such graphic depictions of ancient penile glory existed! In addition, the predigital photograph revealed an intriguing variation in the skin color of the subjects. Of course, she had seen scholarly records of the racial characteristics which existed during the Male Dominion. But she had never imagined viewing such marvelous manifestations of phallic anger in so many different colors! Toni was truly amazed.

The horde of impatient womyn behind her became confrontational. Would you please give us all a chance to look, Sistor?, a polite Dutch voice inquired.

Please give visitors priority!, a British voice countered. You Dutch can see it anytime you wish!

There’s always a line like this! We can’t get any closer to it than you!, the first voice insisted.

Well, she sure has no problem getting close to it!. An Amerikon voice brought everyone’s attention to Toni, whose nose was still pointing at the penises.

Oh, I apologize! I was just . . .

The group of onlookers snickered. We can see what you were doing, Sistor! We just want our chance to do it, too!

Apologies! Toni bowed slightly and moved on, freeing the coveted space for the next lascivious womon. She was, indeed, preoccupied but ancient male sexual response was not her primary focus. The bulk of her thoughts were directed at resolving her present life’s dilemma.

Photographs of large womyn clad only in leather masks abusing the bodies of naked males in bondage devices barely titillated her eyes as she walked slowly toward the back exit. Painful memories of the events which precipitated her departure from the United Socialist Amerikos stabbed her brain: I never expected you to fuck but I did expect you to love me! Toni, I do love you. You are my best friend, my companion . . . my partner. Well, you are only one of my partners-and the least satisfying one at that! Toni, that hurts. You’re being unfair. You know a male can’t satisfy a womon the way another womon can. Seems to me a male can’t do much of anything as well as a womon can! Toni, that’s unfair! Then prove me wrong! Tell me! What can a male do as well as a womon? I’m feeling bullied! I don’t want to discuss this! I can’t say that I blame you! So why don’t we discuss what this is really all about-I’m too young! That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it?! Please, don’t! That is it, isn’t it?! Goddoss Mothor! No matter how I look, no matter what shape I’m in, I’m just not good enough! You just can’t wait. . . If I waited that long, I’d be too old. . . To what. . . get an erection?! Toni always hated herself for saying abusive things. But she also forgave herself easily. She knew it was her natural frustration with her male partner’s mentality that fueled her mouth to speak derisively at times. Toni, I understand . . . a womon’s sex drive is . . . unquenchable. And I know you’ve been through a lot. I have, too. Let’s not inflict any more pain on each other.

Toni closed her eyes and remembered how he smelled and how his long, apricot hair accented the delicate structure of his face . She smiled as she recalled how thin and vulnerable he looked. She had no doubt that he would maintain his desirability for a long time. And that he would rebound from her departure without damage to his psyche.

Tiring of the crowd of jeering, salivating womyn pressing around her, Toni exited the museum. The street was filled with solarcycles ridden by frail males with long hair of all imaginable colors. Vividly hued bodyart decorated their exposed skin. Overhead, trams sped silently carrying womyn to important destinations to attend to matters of concern.

What time is it? A glance at the organizer on the third finger of her left hand confirmed that she had, indeed, spent half the night and all morning in the museum. "Hemppuccino! Double Hemppuccino! That’s what I need!", she blurted the insight as though startled by novelty. Hemppuccino, however, passed through her lips several times each day, as through the lips of most Amerikons and Europons.

Strolling slowly past the live vignettes in the sex store windows, she saw erotically-attired womyn with shackled males wearing only sexual prostheses. Lines of eager sistors of all ages and nationalities waited impatiently at the doors of the stores. She saw an attunement studio in the distance. Hemppuccino!

She was about to enter the studio’s terrorist alarm chamber when a sharp pain of great intensity shot through her lower back. Goddoss Sucking Mothor! Nothing infuriated her like the back pain which flared intermittently and resulted from a former patron’s attack. Her anger at the flare, however, was interrupted by the sight of her reflection in a mirror on the wall of the chamber. She glared at the mirror and turned her head slowly, admiring the softly hollow cheeks. Luminous teal eyes peering through a myriad of life lines returned her gaze. She was incredibly beautiful, at last! How did I stand it before? I should have had the age-assist long ago! She did not verbalize her thoughts while in the TA chamber.

Predigital artists’ renderings of marijuana plants lined the walls of the studio’s induction chamber. Toni sank into a huge fluid-filled pillow as a pretty male server bowed, his lavender hair falling around the purple and white flowers depicted on his face and his flowered skirt draping the floor gracefully. Hemppuccino, please. He smiled maleishly at her and scurried away. She still felt thrilled by such evidence of her recently acquired desirability to males.

Womyn of the world! I come to you tonight with great love and respect! The wall-sized MCD screen was filled with an image of the Amerikon Mothor.

What’s that fascist fathersucker up to now?! She hated all Daughters of Tradition but especially loathed the young quasiprimitive who had gotten herself elected by appealing to the ageist backlash movement.

The Universal Order Engineers have been dispatched to Abbatu Raphosha.

Same old same old! Although eager to return to the USA, she absolutely hated its newly conservative government. The Daughters of Liberty still ran the body but Mothor Tash frequently over-stepped her boundaries and circumvented the body’s control. And the new Amerikon Mothor