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Message-ID: <50301asstr$1106741405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Carlos Malenkov <cmalenkov@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Personal (MF bbw rom slow)
Lines: 222
Date: Wed, 26 Jan 2005 07:10:05 -0500
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PERSONAL
by Carlos Malenkov
Word Count: 1575
Copyright (c) 2003 by Carlos Malenkov




"You're what? How old? Eighteen? _And you've never had a date?_"

Beth knew she was hopeless. Grossly overweight and ugly. Totally inept
when it came to dealing with people one-on-one. Maybe she should resign
herself to living the rest of her life without companionship. Finally
dying as a dried up old maid. Alone. Forever.

Freshman English Comp was one of the few classes she enjoyed. The
instructor, Professor Wilmington ("Just call me Prof."), calmly took
for granted the adulation of his female students. Young -- in his early
thirties -- dynamic, and conventionally handsome. A hell of a good
teacher, too. He made the act of writing come alive. His praise for an
effectively written story or poem, or even just for a well-turned phrase,
brightened Beth's afternoons.

"I'm giving all of you a rather unusual assignment this week. Let us
suppose you are seeking a person of the opposite sex -- or even of the
same sex if you are so inclined -- for romantic purposes. One method
of doing so is through the personal ads in various publications and
venues. Well then, write a personal ad. Pour your entire soul into a
paragraph or two. Push your imagination and creativity to the limit. Craft
the ad as if the rest of your life, or your love life anyhow, depended
on it.

"I will, of course, award a top grade for the best-written ads.
Additionally, as a special incentive, I have arranged with the editor of
the well-known _Voice of the Millennium Monthly_ to have the three best
ads published in their personal ads section. So, you might get national
exposure, and a pipeline to thousands of potential boy or girlfriends
at no cost to you. Good luck and good writing."

              Awaken the sleeping princess. A shy and
              sweetly virginal maid awaits the knight
              whose kiss will set her free from the
              cold, cold dungeon of loneliness. . . .

It was corny and old-fashioned, but it expressed her deepest longings.

Prof awarded her an A-, and what mattered more, third place in the
competition. She had won the opportunity to present her case before a
national audience.


Responses began to trickle in. The trickle became a flood. Beth had a
stack of over 200 letters in front of her. All were from men who claimed
to be dying to meet her . . . or, more accurately, dying to meet the
woman she had represented herself as.

Prof encouraged her to write back to a few of them.

"But I'm nothing like what these men expect me to be. I'm _fat_. And ugly.
And afraid."

"Precisely, Beth. You're terrified. That's what lies at the core of
your being -- fear. And that's the challenge you have to face up to. As
for the rest . . . certainly you are unconventional in appearance. But
you'll discover that some men won't mind, and will, in fact, appreciate
your special charms. However, if you don't look, you won't find."


Beth began writing letters. And she found Leo.

Leonidas Zartblum was frighteningly intelligent. His darkly luminous sense
of humor and fierce joy in living burned through the dry, sterile words on
paper. He was a sensitive soul who felt compassion for human suffering,
and understood and respected Beth's loneliness. This was all the more
remarkable in light of his physical handicaps. He stood all of 4'-8"
tall and had a twisted spine.


    My Dear Beth,

    It grieves me that the other men you have thus far met through
    your personal ad have proven disappointing. Certainly a woman of
    your quality deserves a worthy companion. Continue to search and
    you will find him. Were it not for my malformed body, I myself
    would be honored to find favor in your eyes, and perhaps even . . .
    seek your favors.

    Meanwhile, if you're amenable to the notion, we'll remain friends.

    L.


"Disappointing" was something of an understatement. The men were complete
jerks. Most lost interest immediately when they found out her looks
didn't measure up to pop culture standards. The rest didn't care what
she looked like, but then they didn't care about much of anything else
except getting her into bed.

"Leo, what _am_ I to do with myself? Here I stand, a newly-minted adult,
eager to go out and make my way in the world, to experience what it has
to offer, sensual pleasures and all. But, it seems that one of life's
main avenues is permanently closed off to me. I'm fat! I'm ugly! I'm
condemned to remain the perpetual virgin. Doomed!"

"Feeling sorry for yourself, Beth? Look at me. _Look at me._ Birth defects
doomed me not only to be a perpetual virgin, but a perpetual outsider. I'm
a mascot, a circus freak, someone not to be taken seriously.

"Poor, poor fat Beth. A couple of centuries back you might have been
considered voluptuous. Fashionably plump. Poor, ugly Beth. You have a
face more interesting by far than most of the vapid Barbie doll clones
walking the streets. Spare me your self-pity. It ill becomes you."

"Whatever other physical problems you might have, Leo, there's nothing
at all wrong with your tongue. I see you spending your evenings stropping
its cutting edge."

"We're two of a kind, you delicious dumpling of a maiden. My soul just
happens to be too large for the body it inhabits, and yours is too
refined. Let us then console each other with the delights of witty
intercourse, since the other kind seems denied us."

"Witty? What knowest thou of such matters, churl? Varlet! Ah, well,
half a wit is better than none."


Beth dreamed of Leo that night. He was a powerful mage imprisoned by a
witch's curse within the body of a misshapen dwarf. Only the kiss of his
true beloved could release him from the enchantment . . . but he fled her
embrace. "Tempted as I am by your charms, dumpling, I shall remain within
my protective armor of deformity." There was a wistful smile on his face
and a tear in his eye. Beth awoke, and she was wet between her legs.

"Leo." She hesitated. "How would you like to take me out to dinner?"

Even over the phone his voice betrayed amusement.

"My dear Beth. As much as I'd enjoy squiring you around, it would
nevertheless create, shall we say, certain social difficulties. I'm
quite accustomed to people giving me a hard time, but I couldn't in good
conscience let you suffer on my account."

"You're so easy, Leo. I'll pick you up in my car at 7:00 tonight in
front of your apartment building."


The eggplant lasagna was delicious, but the ambience left a bad taste
in her mouth. The whispering around them had become quite audible.

"What is this, a freak show?"

"The fat lady and the dwarf. Now, where's the sword swallower?"

Leo tapped a knife on the side of his champagne glass, then climbed up
onto his chair.

"I would like to express my appreciation to all you good people for
the entertainment you are inadvertently providing. When I brought my
sweetheart here, little did I know that we were intruding on the annual
convention of simpletons, scoundrels, reprobates, social outcasts, moral
lepers, diseased souls, and all-around losers. I beg your indulgence
if we do not fit in and have offended you by our presence here. Thank
you for your patience and understanding. You may now resume spinning
malicious rumors and fomenting poisonous gossip."

There was dead silence, and a few persons got up to leave. Beth and Leo
enjoyed the remainder of their meal undisturbed, and the headwaiter came
over to apologize.

"You handled that quite nicely, Leo. I had no idea you were an orator."

"You mean a demagogue, my sweet."


"Beth, this isn't the way back to my apartment."

"That sounds like a line from a grade B melodrama. Surely you can do
better than that, Leo."

"Milady, I do believe I am in the process of being kidnapped for your,
ah, harem."

"You have . . . unmasked my insidious plot, Chief Inspector Leo. Curses,
foiled again."


The remains of the coffee and home-made fudge lay on the dining room
table. The two of them sat in silence, staring into each other's eyes.

"And now?" Leo asked.

"What's to become of us?" she asked in turn.

"We're lost. Lost souls. Could I possibly interest you in a discount
membership in the Legion of the Lost? For you, a special deal."

"For _both_ of us, Leo." Beth reached out and took his hand.


"You're beautiful, you know."

"I was about to say the same thing."

They had just finished undressing each other. He smiled, limped over to
her, and kissed her nipples -- left, then right. His hand gently caressed
an ample buttock. "Mm, I just love cantaloupes."

"And I love celery." She was holding his erection in her fist.

He was still inside her as they fell asleep cuddling each other.


"So, Beth, what have you learned from the personal ad experience?"

"Prof, I've learned perhaps more than you intended. I discovered a
new way of looking at myself, and found I don't have to compromise my
standards for the sake of companionship."

"You met someone, then?"

"Yes, a noble soul. A shining hero in an age of cowardice and mediocrity.
And, to boot, by far the handsomest and sexiest man I've ever seen."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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