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Subject: {ASSM} from TxM6 Angela "Beautiful Ugly"
Date: Sat, 2 Sep 2000 11:10:03 -0400
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From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon (updated August 1, 2000)
Mirror Site at http://www.txm6.com
TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher
1086XBilly
Angela Leven: "Beautifully Ugly"
Notes From her Sketchbook
February 4, 1992
When the male and female strippers had lined up
against the gray mustard colored wall, some nude,
others in garish feathery costumes, one very large man
passed in front, and behind, fingering this or that.
He even lifted the tip of one breast, and finger
fucked another between her things when he asked her to
assume this position or another. Finally, at the end
of the line, he rested his hand on one of the male
dancer's shoulders. He seemed too comfortable there,
Angela wrote in her diary.
"Numbers four, five and six step forward," the large
man's Assistant barely spoke.
The morbidly obese man, picking at his face, having
dropped his connections to the male stripper who
seemed almost an end to line, said, "no, give me five,
six, and nine. Fuck these shits," he said.
"Two are skinny and one is almost as much the fat slob
as I am. Get them the fuck out of here."
The Assistant Director paused; thinking it appeared as
if the fat man had impatiently pushed his way into the
face of the much smaller man.
"Did you hear me, you sad shit," he said. "Get them
the fuck out of here. Five, six and nine only."
Angry, shuffling himself about, the fat man sensing he
was about to fall off the stool, balanced, and jumped
down to the floor catching himself on the breasts of
the small dancer who had been watching Billy as if
transfixed. She reached out to help, but before Billy
could grunt himself up on the rungs, accomplished too
easily for such a large man, he rolled his belt up
over his belly, and wheezed. Instantly, he was out of
breath again. The small dancer with the slight
breasts, pointed, bizarre, reached over to Billy and
hugged him. Billy seemed out of sorts. He did smile at
the child-woman. Within the landscape of mercy, Angela
scribbled again over the hasty gesture drawing of the
small woman; "we marry odd attractions when we step
out of the stage and onto the pavement. Who is the
victim and who the perpetrator," Angela wrote in dark
strokes above her sketch of the fat man kissing her
breast.
Angela wrote quickly in her notebook, kept with her
sketchpad. She seemed almost a fury as she wrote five
or six times, "MY BREAST," as cut the paper with the
black ballpoint she loved. Kept the pen on a wire
necklace, and it often fell between her breasts only
to be retrieved by Aaron at times when he teased.
Having been commissioned by the fat man to sketch the
strippers, Angela also kept had detailed notes about
the sessions. It will make a great book she thought
and besides the extra money, the juxtaposition of the
fat man and the dancers, as they posed against the
other, broke the spatial plane, she thought.
It makes me laugh. Don't get me wrong. It's not his
suffering or the hurt the dancers feel. It is the
imbalance really.
Angela having always desired truth, wrote, and painted
it. She also realized that she her husband, Aaron, had
a very rich client who loved the mixture of porn and
art.
Continuing her notes, Angela wrote, "He weighed 400
plus pounds and had a sad innocent school boy face. He
was miserable and almost pretty, but fat as a cow.
Meet Billy Baker," Angela wrote in the margin next to
a picture of the man dressed as Satan complete with
tail. "Runs a Porn shop, she wrote against another
sketch. This one showed the fat man poised on one foot
looking into an old-fashioned movie box presumably at
some new porn. Angela wrote the Letters XXX over his
head instead of a nimbus. "Had a sister Dolores, who
disappeared, they say," she wrote across another
sketch. This one showed the fat man and an old lady
presumably his mother, as Angela had written under the
sketch, "His mother was murdered during holdup at 1975
convenience store."
Continuing, she wrote more, "now, Billy hangs with
male and female whores, and bangs a transsexual bitch
variously called Rachel or Richard."
Writing under her own self portrait, Angela continued
the narrative, but first she circled what appeared to
be her symbolic image five times, "he told me, the
bitch keeps me fat so I cannot fuck. I love proving
the prick wrong."
"All of this," Angela wrote in the margin next to a
sketch of the fat man playing with himself in his
bath, "makes me more than miserable."
"There is more inside the story," she continued on the
next page, a blank one without images, "but chapter
one is too long now, she added, and actually, what is
more important, and quite amazing, is how little
anyone cares about anyone. Why should anyone care
about Billy? Yet they do," Angela wrote, "they fucken
do. I saw one of the models rub his shoulders after
she had sucked him off. Witness to this tableau, Ah
yes, I am the witness. More later. Makes me glad I
have Aaron and I no longer wonder how it is possible
nothing matters? Nothing"!
End of Angela's February 4, 1992 Notes.
---------
Comments appreciated
seanfarragher@msn.com
More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/
Sean Farragher
Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com
TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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