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Michelangelo's David
I think that many to most of us can heave a sigh of relief. The stray private thought can seem rather dank and dingy in the light of well-reasoned modesty, but I would hazard a guess that the bland depravaties of your average soul pale next to the grandeur and majesty of the following. While I would love to offer up more statues for your perusal and approbation, this piece is an enticing enough spectacle. And, rather than stay you any longer with a meditation on the psychic optics of the piece and thereby impede the many dissertations that are doubless being penned at this very moment, let us proceed into the museum proper:

Subject: ASFR Fans!
Date: Mon, 22 Jul 1996 15:56:08 -0700
Organization: The University of Texas at Austin, Austin, Texas
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We've gotta do something to get this group going again. It's a precious 
natural resource that we can't lose to spam. :)

So, here's a suggestion: every time you read this group, take a moment to 
post a short fantasy about whatever facet of ASFR interests you.

It doesn't matter how short or long, how good or bad a writer you might 
be, how incomplete or repetitive your prose, or what element of ASFR you 
find exciting. We'll all enjoy it, and there'll be MUCH more substance 
between the spam. If you're lurking (as I was), please post! No one will 
flame you, I promise!

Here, I'll start:


        I stripped off my clothes and climbed naked onto the low 
pedestal. I settled into a statueque pose, then delicately fingered my 
nipple with one hand while the other curled gently around my long, erect 
penis. As soon as I gew still, a crackling sound filled the air and I 
found myself transfixed in this position, unable to move a muscle or even 
to blink. My skin faded to a glossy white, and I felt skin stiffen and my 
muscles tense and harden. I could only stand helpless as my flesh turned 
to solid stone, and I became an erotic marble nude. I was a living 
statue! I was a sculpted monument of myself, every detail of my handsome 
anatomy preserved in polished white stone. My face was a marble mask -- 
my eyes blank orbs and my features carved forever in an expression of 
surprise and delight. My muscles were frozen as elegant stone curves, 
forming and decorating the sensual shapes of my gleaming immobile figure. 
The utterly still fingers of one hand permanently pinched the alabaster 
pebble that had been my nipple, while the other hand held the ribbed, 
slightly curved marble pillar of my erect penis. My matted, petrified 
pubic hair was a stony figleaf and my scrotum was a lump of rock between 
my sleek marble thighs. My fossilized body appeared as timeless and 
beautiful as any Greek sculpture, my living body transformed into a 
motionless figure of marble perfection. I stood silent and still on my 
pedestal as museum visitors scrutinized my stone form, observing and 
exploring every inch of my body. Every day I felt warm fingers run across 
my frozen muscles, carress my cold hard face, or fondle the rigid shaft 
of my marble penis. I could only stand helpless, every flowing muscle and 
sinew turned to stone, as a nude statue on permanent public display.

Hope you like it; comments, suggestions, ideas always welcome (serious 
mail only please, spam/flames deleted without reading.)

Also, if you share my interest in living statuary/people turning to 
stone, please send me some email. I'd love to make a new friend.


Leave this place.

Last updated: 30 July 1996.