Under the Bigtop by Max Malo "Free and easy- if you want good head, call after nine" The scrawl had haunted his forty-ounce delirium since the carnie first pulled into town. Was it written there long ago when the port-o-potty was on some long forgotten construction site? Did this include anyone- even one like himself? Often he was the end of stubborn ridicule. The lesbian trapeze artists would flounce around in their tiny costumes, stretching in unnatural ways showing their bodies like cheap all-you-can-eat Las Vegas Buffets. They had a certain competition of exhibitionism- the more they could display their bodies in death defying grace and grandeur, twisted in prone positions in dizzying heights above the big top crowds- the more they would feed off each other's energy to become more daring. And then they take their glistening glitter of the rhinestone costumes fresh from the adoration of the crowd and succumb to passionate caresses as their tiny halters and g-strings hit the floor. It was more than the human mind could bear- witnessing the pangs and tremors emanating from the trailer as the trapeze artists fell into glazed atmospheres of pure pleasure - night after night. And they would mock him - taunt him - and openly jaunt that they knew that they were the subject of his nightly autoeroticism. It wasn't easy being small. The children of inbred mid-western Christians would shriek, "Look at the Midget!!! What a freak!!!" As he would ride around his tricycle balancing a beach ball on his nose. But he had a secret - and secretly he wanted to share it under the big top - "I may be short - but I'm hung better than anyone in the audience!" And this was not an exaggeration - his sinuous little member swung down past his knee when flaccid. He fantasized about waving it in the face of some mocking little girl and asking her if her Daddy's was that big. But he couldn't - as a small person, he had very few options available to him. The only reliable work he was ever able to find was pumping gas or working the carnie circuit. And as bad as the carnie circuit was with its heckling and peppered insults, it wasn't half as degrading as having to stand up on the little box to wipe the windshield as the children convulsed in shameless laughter. Housewives would leave the bills stuck in the car window as if contact with his gnarled hands could somehow transmit midget viruses to them and their children. The carnie wasn't paradise - but it afforded a certain amount of distance from the silent stares and twisted laughter. But the carnie wasn't without its downfalls. The bearded lady and the strongman had a long lasting affair that usually ended in loud shouting and flying Jack Daniel's bottles. Unfortunately, he had to share the adjacent quarters to the cantankerous couple. It always started amorously enough, the coquettish lady whispering sweet nothings through her whiskers to the bald, goatee head of the sham strongman. Oh, his weights may have said a thousand pounds, but midget could have lifted them as well as the strong man. And to make matters worse, the strongman was a habitual drunk who could barely keep himself from staggering and falling over even during performances. The bearded lady would shout and scream about yet another performance, where a limp little soldier would betray his otherwise buff exterior. This would consistently interrupt the slumber and fabulous dream life the midget used to escape his hellish existence. After days of pondering the scrawl, the midget mustered up the courage to make the call. He stepped up on the bench in the phone booth and shakily raised his hand to insert the quarter for the call. He fumbled through his pocket and nearly lost his balance as he tried to cradle the receiver on his shoulder while dialing the telephone number. He finally got the seven numbers punched in as he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his head. The phone rang. It continued to ring for what seemed like an eternity. And right before he was about to hang up, a hurriedly husky voice gulped "hello." He was caught off guard for the moment. He really hadn't thought how to open this conversation - was there a polite way? And finally his libido spurted out for him, "Is this where I can get some serious action?" A muffled rustling was heard on the other end, and a deep low moan. He couldn't believe his ears. Was this too good to be true? Was it some kind of come on? Then he heard the heavy female breathing, and the voice returned, "Ummm, I can't get enough. What do you look like?" He said, "Well I'm kind of small." She seemed to sober slightly, "You mean you have small equipment?" He boasted proudly, "Not at all!!! I've got a full nine and then some!!" She said, "Well I don't care how tall you are, that's not what I'm after!!!" This was as if he had heard the a glorious choir of angels rise in a chorus at the very gates of heaven!!! He blurted out, "Can I come over?" She said, "If you really got a nine iron come over right now." And she gave him an address on Shady Side Drive and said she had to go. He heard men's voices in the background and she was obviously in a heavy state of arousal. After she gave him the address, she hung up quickly. He stood in disbelief for over five minutes. Twisting the worn sheet of loose leaf between his gnarled fingers as if to verify that it actually existed, that what happened actually happened. He felt himself swell with anticipation of the encounter and was lost in hazy daydream clouds of thought, when he was startled by a tremendous thundering. "How much longer are you going to be?" The bearded lady's grotesque face appeared in the smeared window, so close and vile he was glad for his usual distance from this horrible mug. He felt himself shrink up as if his body was trying to protect itself from something awful. He stood speechless, and she shouted out - "What the hells a matter with you?" This woke him up out of his stupor and he hurriedly got off the bench and wrestled with the accordion door as she looked on disgustedly. He flew out of the phone booth as fast as his short little legs would carry him and left the miserable bearded lady to make her phone call. He hurried with bated breath to the hot little address crumpled in his hand. His mind reeled with fantastic visions of what the visit may bring - scenes of sexual abandon flooded his mind to the point of distraction. He was on autopilot, and although it seemed like an eternity, he found himself at the address within about five minutes. He checked the address to make sure he was at the right place. As he looked down he heard a deep moan of satisfaction, and felt like he had found his nirvana. He went to knock on the door, but as he pushed, he realized it was not completely closed. He let himself in and headed back toward a bedroom where he heard a variety of moans and murmurs. A beautiful, tall, slender woman was crawling across a bed with her long black hair concealing her face. Her skin was the creamy white marble of antiquity contrasted against the black velvet dress that was set about her in disarray. She had sheer silk stockings up past her knees and capped with a band of black lace about her thighs that made her a pure vision of beauty. All caught up in an ermine bed slip that made it ever more inviting. When she heard him enter her head shot up, causing her hair to cascade back and revealing the most beautiful green piercing eyes that shined like jewels. She quickly appraised him, and quickly turned, "What are you doing here?!" In an edgy, menacing tone. He said, "I talked to you on the phone a few minutes ago and . . ." She shouted, "You didn't say you were a dwarf!! What am I, snow white?" His voice got all high and midgety, "I told you I was short, oh and its been so long since I've had anything happen to me like this so please don't be so cruel about it, if you want me to leave I . . ." She interrupted, "Were you nine inches tall or nine inches long?" He got angry and said, "I'm a full nine and I'll prove it!!" as he dropped his drawers. His trousers immediately hit his ankles as they didn't have far to fall and revealed his thick, purpley veined bat. Her eyes widened immediately and her tone changed. She softened and lowered her shoulder seductively and invited him to join her with a come hither look and puckered her lips into an unmet kiss. He hurried across the room with a thumping of tiny little steps and approached the bed. He swung his knee up on the bed and tried to climb on. After several attempts, she smiled and said, "I've never made it with a midget before."
And with that pushed herself up on her knees exposing a full rear view to
him. He stood dumbfounded as she
reached around and guided him toward his goal.
He couldn't belief that this was happening and slipped into a spasmodic
over drive and began thumping away in a blurred frenzy.
She writhed and moaned as his girth was immediately forced upon her at a
jackhammer's frequency. Her eyes
began to roll back in her head as she became glazed with a beautiful exertion of
love. She had become one with his
motion and was loving him like any other lover, and not having to look directly
at him, she slipped into her world of pleasure and did not even remember his
tiny disfigured body. For the only
part she needed was giving her what few had been able to give her before.
Huge strong men all built with tiny And then as if the world was coming to an end, it seemed the sky opened up and the bed began to shake. He was so intent on his mission that he thought this was part of the experience, and at the last minute she said, "Yank it out and squirt it on my bum!!" This made him so hot he blindly obeyed and let himself go on her back as it shot five times with the last little dribble sliding down her crack. He threw his head back in a deep low moan. And it was at this moment the swirley twist of the big top seized him - with the maniacal laugh of the clowns that haunted his every slumber - but it was not a dream --- this was the horrid, sinister sound of clown laughter - the very tortuous clamor of scrap metal tied to a scissors grinder’s wagon wrangling down the streets of sad Dostaievsky Despair - uncontrollable, unstoppable - a hi fi tuned out freaky Jay Airplane ripping at your minds edge by the very pulse of the volume from a Golden Gate perched amphetamine loud speaker wrestling your soul from your central nervous system - it couldn't be happening but it was now. As he slumped out of ecstatic, eye-rolling turmoil, he focused in on the grease paint snide glimmer of a clown who had had his day - and as if shaking off the bad edge of a delirium tremor - he hoped to look back and see the steady calm of sad peeling wall paper and dingy furnishing - but was instead shocked by the piston of an obscene squirting plastic flower. It squirted a marshmallow-like substance all over his face He winced to avoid it, and as his pompous member was still heavily lodged, a gaggle of clowns chortled in twisted merriment at his predicament. How could he be so stupid!!!! Of course it was a set up from the start!!!! The bastards were always trying to get him to play in the reindeer games - coaxing him into hideous scenes with German shepherds and implant monstrosities in the blondish blue eye-shadow haze of Chivas Regal teeth. The ugly smudge of hideous lipstick so willing to pull any Cretan element between the mammoth lips of a painted plastic flower dangling from a Spaniard's hat in some long forgotten garage sale velvet painting. "You're all ours now!!!!!!!!!!" The laughing sickness impregnated the room like the stench of rotten teeth and cotton candy. "We got it all on tape - and boy will it sell on the Internet!!!" A dopey monkey sound chimed in like the discordance of a drunken circus band. It was so easy. They hired a two-bit backroom sleeve for the affair, so smitten by the sickness of addiction she would do anything for what she needed - and hey boy howdy did the clowns have what she needed - traveling from town to town with plastic trumpets and mock fire hoses - a myriad of places to trick what might keep them funny for generations to come. And who could resist a little fun on the side!!!!!! And he slowly saw his entire life slump into ruins. Visions of clowns shouting, "Midget, fetch me another drink." He scurries over, respectfully wary that the clowns might reveal shameful pornographic shots to the Ringmaster. "Right away, Sir" The clown cackles obtrusively, "Be quick about it midget, or I'll have the elephant step on your tale." "Right away, yes Sir, pronto." And as the midget pours a fresh, swillistic draft of flat beer from a three day keg - sputtering and speaking like a bad carnie barker on the edge of a forgotten Midwestern berg Mr. Peabody left long ago - he hurries over to the clown bosses in a desperate effort to please - with the floozy, painted change-ups and cross-overs from the forgotten side of town with catty remarks in toe.
The clown shudders with unbridled laughter as he throws the drink into
the midget's face - "This is the only way you'll get good head!!!
Midget!!!!!!" |