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Subject: {ASSM} Anniv-Flash: Amazon Armor, by Cobalt Jade
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Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 07:10:07 -0500
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Amazon Armor

by Cobalt Jade (cobaltjade@aol.com)



"How can you take that crap seriously?" she said. 

"I don't, I just like looking at it. You're an artist, you should know."

"I'm a fine artist," she said, with emphasis on the *fine.* She glanced 
over his shoulder at the book he was so absorbed in: Great Artists of 
Fantasy. Page after page of half-undressed, lushly figured warrior 
woman and half-undressed, lushly muscled warrior men. She sniffed. 
"The men have more muscles, but the woman have bigger tits."

" 'I never go to see a movie where the man's tits are bigger than the 
woman's,' " he said, quoting Groucho Marx.

"I could do a better job," she said, flipping through the pages. "Hell, any 
decent artist could."

"What makes you say that?" he said.

"Because these pictures are ridiculous. These people are supposed to be 
fighting for their lives, yet they're either posing like beefcake or 
surreally detached. Look at this chick being attacked by the dragon. 
She's lying there like she's on a towel at the beach, staring disjointedly 
at the sky like someone dumped a glass of cold water on her stomach."

"Notice his claw is almost, but not quite, touching her nipple."

"Ha ha, very funny," she said. "And what's with the chains? One goes 
around her neck and the other between her legs, but they don't seem to 
be attached to anything."

"The one between her legs goes to a pierced clitty, obviously."

"Oh, you're awful! But the angle is all wrong."

"I think those pictures are turning you on."

"Titian turns me on, and, sometimes, Klimt. This stuff, no. It's so 
obviously fake, so obviously pandering to some adolescent role-playing 
mentality. Now the chick on this page is supposed to be an amazon, but 
she has silver toenail polish on, fer Chrissakes! Where'd she get it, the 
downtown Hyboria five-and-dime? Readers of fantasy books don't want 
a picture-perfect representation of their fantasies; they want 
something indistinct, blurred; they want to dream, to fill in the blank 
spaces with their imagination. They want emotion and drama, not 
pinpoint accuracy. Which is why those ten perfectly painted toenails 
don't cut it. And those metal pastie-things over her nipples. How the 
hell do they stay on?

"Like this," he said, using both sets of fingers and thumbs to give her a 
good, hard tweak.

"Ow! You're really asking for it. And what about those stainless-steel 
thong panties? It must hurt like hell when she walks."

"Au contraire. There's a plus-sized dildo in the proper place, and she 
uses her vaginal muscles to keep it in...which creates a fair of amount of 
lubrication, and the suction ensures it stays *very* snug..."

"Eep," she said in an unconvincing protest.

"And the thong is kept in place with a second dildo, slightly smaller, 
that penetrates her here..."

She let the book drop to the floor.

END


This work is copyrighted 2000 by Cobalt Jade (Cobaltjade@aol.com). This 
work may be be freely distributed over electronic media provided no fee 
is charged for its use.  Charging a fee for this story, or publishing 
without author credit or this notice violates my copyright.

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