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Subject: {ASSM} You're a Big Girl Now  (MF anal celeb humil)
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YOU'RE A BIG GIRL NOW
by Carlos Malenkov
Word Count: 2011
Copyright (c) 2004 by Carlos Malenkov
Posting and archive rights granted to ASSM. All other rights reserved.



She had finally broken into the big time. The recording contract with
GMG was starting to bring in decent money and three movie studios were
bidding on her life story. Not too shabby for a lingerie salesgirl turned
rock star.

    On stage. Live. There she be! Beltin' it out fo' all she worth.
    Shakin' dat skinny ol' booty. Do it, girl! ALEXXIA!

At 5'11" she weighed an anorexic 108 pounds, and her enormously long
legs were her trademark. It took constant starvation dieting and two
hours of daily workouts to keep in shape.

    Phat love! Monster love!
    That's what I been living for.
    Phat love! Monster love!
    Only you that I adore.
    Phat love! Monster love!
    Wrap that bod aroun' me now.
    Phat love! Monster love!
    My puss-puss will show you how.
    PHAT LOVE!


The health checkup should have been routine. But the blood tests showed
elevated liver enzyme levels. "Nothing to worry about," Doc Keldysh told
her. "Just to make sure, though, we'll run a few more tests, and maybe
a CAT scan."

Nothing to worry about??? _A CAT scan?_ Geezus, twenty-seven years old
and she was knocking at death's door!!!

"The good news is that it's not life-threatening."

Alexxia nearly fainted.

"Unfortunately, you seem to have developed a fairly serious thyroid
disorder, possibly as a result of the nutritionally deficient diet you
went on, and against my advise I might add. This could lead to rather
striking metabolic changes."

"_What_ kind of changes?"

"Others with similar conditions have manifested significant weight gains
and accumulations of body fat in the breasts and buttocks."

"Fat!!! That would ruin me!"

"As it happens, fat storage in the adipose tissues is an ancient survival
trait in the human species. Thousands of years ago, _homo sapiens_ lived
under feast or famine conditions. Only those of our distant ancestors able
to gorge on available food and accumulate massive body fat deposits
managed to survive, and they passed down the genes for that tendency.
Everyone else starved."

"But that doesn't make sense any more, doc. There's plenty of food
for everyone, at least in civilized countries, and anyway . . . FAT IS
DISGUSTING!" Her voice had risen to a shriek.


At 140 pounds, Alexxia had developed classically feminine contours. She
was wearing a 36C bra and her fanny was plumping up nicely. For the first
time in her life she had round hips, and her spidery legs had filled
out. Even cutting her daily nutritional intake below 800 calories and
lengthening her exercise periods hadn't slowed her steady weight gain.
The less she ate, the more maddeningly efficient her damn metabolism
became.

Fat! Disgustingly fat! She didn't dare let herself be photographed any
more. Her records sales were plummeting and the movie studios had lost
interest. Her agent wasn't returning her calls. Worst of all, Ronnie
had dumped her. He thought fat chicks were disgusting. And he was right,
damn him!


At 220 pounds, she had a distressingly ripe figure. Even Rubens might
have found her a bit much. The only way she dared go out in public was
disguised in dark glasses and wearing baggy, shapeless clothes. She
hadn't cut a new recording in six months and had been celibate almost
as long. Men took one look at her huge butt and guffawed.


At 290 pounds, the world looked bleak. Eating only a single miniscule meal
of brown rice a day (350 calories) and jogging and bicycling to exhaustion
kept her fit, all right. She could still run a mile in a little over five
and three-quarters minutes and could reel off 75 pushups without getting
short of breath. Her weight had finally stabilized, but it would not --
damn it! -- _would not_ drop.

Having big breasts wasn't so bad, but those fifty-two inch hips! And
that gigantic ass! She didn't dare show that ass in public, even in
concealing, baggy clothes.

The worst of it was that her sex drive hadn't in the least diminished.
If anything, it had increased. And masturbation was a pitiful substitute
for someone to caress, to hold into her arms, to accept into her body.
Just having someone to talk to, to awaken next to -- that was what she
missed the most.


A desperate enough woman will do almost anything to ease the pain of
loneliness. Even looking up an old acquaintance years later. Even looking
up an old acquaintance she had once utterly despised.

She found his e-mail address by sheer accident in a software developers'
chat room. It figured. He had always been a nerd, even back then at Calvin
Coolidge High. For an entire year that pathetic piece of shit had followed
her around like a homeless mongrel, with his tongue hanging out of his
mouth. She had tossed him a scrap of attention from time to time, just
enough to keep him on the leash. A word or two, a casual half-smile once
in a while was all it took. An asshole the guy had been. A complete zero.

The poor dear. She knew that even after all these years he'd still be
her abject slave. Good enough. His company would be better than nothing,
and she had nothing now. And maybe she'd even let him share her bed
. . . if he begged.


    Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2004 22:44:00 -0700 (PST)
    From: M. Gardens <marvmarv@monoposoft.com>
    To: alexxia@alexxmuzzic.com
    Subject: Re: A Blast From the Past

    By golly, you're the absolute last person I ever expected to hear
    from. Sandra Chesler! You were the nicest looking babe in the senior
    class, all right. But who'd have ever guessed that you'd become a
    mega rock star.

    Well, in answer to your questions, I've never married, and right at
    the moment I seem to be between girlfriends. Unencumbered, you might
    say. Sure, it might be interesting to get together and catch up on
    what's been happening since way back when. Yeah, why the hell not?

    M.


"Is that you, Marvin? Come right on in."

"Well, uh . . . yeah. Sandy, uh . . . "

"They call me Alexxia now. Alexx to my friends. I'll take your jacket.
Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"N-no. It's just that -- "

"I know. I don't look quite like you expected, do I? Things happen to
people, you know. Not always good things. I seem to have developed this
weird medical condition, but hey, otherwise I'm in perfect health. Feel
fine. Never felt better in my life, actually. But, enough about me. What's
been going on with you, kid?"

"Been busy, actually. The shop landed a couple of big contracts and
we've all been working long hours. Lucky to get free tonight, but when
you make the rules, you get to break them, too."

"Make the rules?"

"Yeah, seems like I'm one of the managing partners. It gets me a few
privileges now and then."

"Hey, great! I always knew the world couldn't keep a guy with your brains
down. You're sure you don't want a beer?"

"Uh, thanks anyway. It's getting late and, uh . . . "

What's with this jerk, she was thinking. Ten years ago he couldn't keep
from drooling every time he saw my butt wiggle. Now, though . . . he
probably finds me repulsive. Even a social outcast like him. There's
just no hope for a bloated slug like me.

"Marvin, I was hoping, well, you know, that you might still find me
interesting after all these years, and that maybe we could get to know
each other again, and -- "

"Let me tell you straight out, Sandy, or Alexx, or whatever you'd like
to be called. When you knew me back in school, I was at the bottom of
the heap. Rock bottom. I couldn't get a date to save my life. No girl
would look twice at me. It was like I had leprosy. Now, though . . .

". . . well, the last time I checked, I was worth maybe eighty million.
I've been doing weight training for a couple of years and I'm told I
have a pretty hot bod. And, as for making it with women -- I've had so
many of them lately that their faces blur into one other. Sex is no more
meaningful to me than a good restaurant meal. So, it looks like the shoe
is on the other foot now.

"So, tell me, Sandy, why would I want to hook up with a grossly overweight
over-the-hill has-been? As a bizarre joke? A novelty? A perversion, like
maybe doing it with a sheep? Yeah, doing you would be a real hoot! Just
the thought of sticking myself into a bloated slug turns my stomach. Kind
of like shagging a jelly donut, huh? Tell you what, though. Get down on
your knees and beg for it, and maybe I'll be moved to an act of charity
and let you have a mercy fuck."

Rage boiled up inside her. That slimy piece of shit! She'd kick his ass
right out the door, she would. But, wait. She could always do that later.
Later . . . after he'd made love to her. Love!

Alexxia got down on her knees and begged.

The sight of the weeping woman kneeling at his feet -- head hanging low
and totally submissive -- fired up his lust. And, oh! The flowing curves
of that gargantuan ass sticking up into the air . . . Marvin scrambled
down onto his knees behind her and flipped up her skirt. "Spread your
legs," he said.

"_It's no damn good._ You're so loose down there it's like fucking a bowl
of soup. We'll have to try something else."

Red-faced and doubly humiliated, she pawed through the medicine cabinet,
searching for the vaseline jar. Even her pussy was useless!

Alexxia was on her back, spine jacked up at an angle, her legs raised
high over Marvin's shoulders. He was fumbling around, trying to position
the head of his cock at the entrance to her ass.

"Come on, gimme some help down below there. Grab your butt cheeks and pull
'em apart. Wider. That's a good girl. All right! Here we go!"

He was deep inside her now, and she felt the stretch and the greasy
friction as he thrust high up and violated her secret chamber. Ass-fucked.
She was being ass-fucked by Marvin the asshole! The twisted pervertedness
-- the sheer _dirtiness_ of it all -- corroded the last remnants of her
pride, her sense of self, her very _personhood_. In the darkest depths
of despair, a small voice within her cried out, and she surrendered
herself completely to those mischievous daemons and demigods who toy
with the strands of Fate.

    And an immense blast of heat surged up inside her as the *passion*
    exploded forth from her gut. HER THIGHS THUNDERED . . . and *the
    world rocked*.

Every window in the house had shattered and the lights were out. Stray
wisps of smoke were drifting out of the circuit breaker box and some of
the water pipes had burst. Car alarms were wailing in the street.

Marvin lay curled in the fetal position under an old quilt, mumbling to
himself and whimpering. He hadn't moved for hours. He had bitten partway
through his tongue and there were smears of dried blood on the left side
of his face. Alexxia wondered if she should call an ambulance.



Nowadays Sandy is married to a balding, middle-aged schoolteacher in a
small town in upstate New York. Their sex life is fairly conventional,
and they never, _never_ engage in ass play. They've been talking about
adopting another child. She's just one more fat, frowsy suburban hausfrau,
and that suits her just fine. Her life as Alexxia, the rock star, is
only a distant memory.

Marvin was conditionally released from the psychiatric ward last year.
He has resumed part-time duties as assistant chief software architect
at Monoposoft Industries. At every opportunity he sings the praises
of Thorazine.

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