Date: Sat, 11 Nov 2017 10:49:02 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Joins the Ballet 3

Catfish Joins the Ballet 3

The Ballet took a half day off for Basil's memorial service. That consisted
of songs and dances that Basil liked. There were no half-hearted speeches
and the service was well attended and painless. Tony came to me
afterwards. "I'm going to have a little get together with some of Basil's
friend's tonight. You are invited," he said as he leaned closer to me,
adding in a whisper, "My little party would be the sort of thing Basil
would have liked. I think you would like it too."

"I will try to make it," I said.

"Basil's friends would love you, and I think you would like them," he
added. He passed me a note with the address and time. I knew it would not
be a conventional memorial event and a bit odd. I then smiled to
myself. When I die, I wouldn't mind it if my pals had a memorial orgasm for
me. My mother wouldn't approve, but my friends would understand.

At 8:00 I was at Tony's penthouse apartment. A tall, striking blond woman
greeted me. "I am Tammy. You must be Catfish. The name suits you," she
said. I took me 30 seconds to realize she was a he. There were 15 men
there, eventually there were 20. It was a mixture of artists, construction
workers and uptight, closeted business men.

I was the only new man to the group, but it was a friendly bunch. Dustin
was serving drinks wearing a rhinestone studded cock ring. That set the
tone. There was conversation in the living room, but the master suite and
what Tony called the play room were for more active pursuits. Tammy told me
that the second bedroom was a dressing room. "Am I overdressed?" I asked.

"If I told you that Tony has described you and I want to see it, would you
be insulted?" Tammy asked.

I smiled. "You aren't the first, I bet you will see it sometime tonight."

"Tony said he thought you were a good sport," Tammy replied,
smiling. "Basil had a rule at these parties, no one goes home with full
balls."

"Even if he wants to save some for a special friend?" I asked.

"That would be okay as long as Basil was the friend!" Tammy said. About
half the men were already stripped and I went to the bedroom and
undressed. My charms are marginal when I'm dressed, naked I'm a star.

When I returned to the living room, Tony came over and introduced me to
Basil's friends. It was clear that Basil did not have a type. The only
requirement was to have a cock, except possibly for Tammy. I was wrong
about that, Tammy was a transvestite, not transgender. It was also clear
that all the men were sexually driven and not shy.  I was a little
surprised when I discovered the closeted business types could be wild when
they were in the closet.

I went to the play room a guy named Nelson came over to me. He was nude and
a classic country club type, carefully groomed and dressed. He was also
about six-feet-five. That was good for me. I didn't need to bend over to
suck his cock. he was a little shy, but once I connected with him, he
relaxed and talked freely. Since I am a small, one legged guy, I don't tend
to intimidate anyway.

He was careful with me. I think he thought he might hurt me since he was so
much bigger than me. Contact with my cock seemed to inspire his inner size
queen. He got me on the bed, so he could get up close and personal with my
tool.

Tony knew why Basil killed himself, and knew I was investigating. Nelson
must have known that.  Out of the blue, Nelson told me that he had been to
several of At Your Service straight parties. They were stag events just
before weddings. "Most of the women looked like they had been well
used. "They weren't bad, but I could tell they were getting close to the
sell-by date," he explained.

"A college pal, who was a bit of a horn-dog, liked them that way. He told
me if the lights were dim enough all would be fine," Nelson said, "A week
later two of the guys had compromising photos appear in the mail. Nothing
came of that. One of the recipients had connections. The connection told
owner of At Your Service that if the photos became public, he would meet
his maker after a long and painful experience.  The owner told him he had
nothing to do with the photos, but there were no further contacts from the
blackmailer,"

"I kept away from At Your Service after that," Nelson added.

"With blackmail you need to make sure your victim can't fight back," I
said.

"Basil was not a scary man, was he?" Nelson asked. "Tony told me there were
"circumstances" about his death."

"Do you think At Your Service was involved?" I asked.

"I've stayed away from them, but I have some friends who use them," Nelson
said, "They aren't close friends. I'm a vanilla guy. I like the pleasure I
get from sex, not drama or acting out fantasies. I like butch men, but it
takes too much time to take off the leather paraphernalia and get down to
business. You look butch, but I think you may not need to work hard at
achieving the look."

"One of the guys liked tramps, the more down and out the better. He liked
to see how far he could push them, make them do things they didn't want to
do. Nelson continued, "I like willing playmates."

As we talked several men joined us in the bedroom. One was Dick, who looked
like he might be Tony's bigger brother. He was a gorilla-like muscle
bear. He was with Monty, who would have been a hairless twink, if he had
been younger. They called the third guy with them Matt. The light was
dim. I could tell that Monty was well hung. Monty's and Matt's equipment
was hidden in their thick pelts and pubic forests.

Dick was aggressively friendly and eager to play. "Is this a private
party?" he asked. "How would I get an invitation if it is?"

"Dick, you know I like to meet new friends, but I can't speak for my buddy
here, Catfish," Nelson said.

"I'm pretty friendly," I said. "I don't want to sound trashy, but usually a
hard cock does the trick."

"I sort of like to get up close and personal. Is that problem?" Dick asked.

"Just how close is close?" I asked.

"We are already naked. I like to be naked and fucking like rabbits!" Dick
said.

"As I said, I am friendly and open to the possibilities," I answered. Dick
and his pals were already getting on the bed.

We had a quick outbreak of cock sucking and then things quieted down. Monty
sucked Nelson as Nelson talked with Matt. I was on the other side of the
bed with Dick whose thick stubby cock had made an appearance.

"Monty is an aging twink who can't attract young guys anymore. I told him
he needs to find some older guys. He's afraid of bear types and rough
trade," Dick whispered. "I discovered bears both scare and turn him
on. When I shot off in his ass and he had a hands-free orgasm."

"Does he want me?" I asked.

"You scare him, but I think he would love your load eight inches up his
ass. I doubt no one has made a deposit that deep," Dick said. "He likes
them big and you would send him to the moon."

"I never go where I'm not wanted," I said.

"Once you get your cock at his hole, you will know he wants it," Dick
whispered. "Matt wants it too. He has a problem."

"What is that?"

"He's all man emotionally, but physically he has a small cock and a
cunt. He likes men in him." Dick said.

"The cunt or ass?"

"Well, he talked to me about filling both holes," Dick said. I have no
problem helping open minded men with their needs. Dick was so eager I
thought it would be wild and crazy. It was intense, but not wild.

Bear sex brought out Monty's inner slut. Nelson and Dick stretched his ass
open before I went deep. His ass was still tight, but had been lubricated
by Dick's cum. There was barely room for his prostate and my tool. I could
tell when my knob entered unexplored territory. He went crazy.

Monty later told me he didn't know there was any unexplored territory in
his well-used hole. I pulled out and went to take a shower. I needed a
break. Matt helped me. He was an orderly in a hospital.

He told me that most guys treated him as a circus side show. I told him
that I attracted some site seers and mountain climbers. "Mountain
Climbers?" he asked.

"Guys who want a challenge. Taking my cock is an achievement, not a
pleasure," I explained.

"A quick pump and dump doesn't do it for me," Matt said. "Damn, your cock
is big!"  We returned to the bedroom. I slowly explored his lady part as
Monty opened the back door. Monty was skilled, and he would push in when I
pulled out and we alternated.  The drove Matt crazy in a good way.

When Matt shot off, both Monty and I came, but we stayed in. Monty slowly
pulled out. I stayed in and went soft. Matt had a soft landing.

There were no virgins at Tony's party. We were all either experienced or
incredibly experienced. I might fit in the incredibly experienced category,
but I tend to be excited and enthusiastic every time.

The word was out that I as interested in At Your Service and ACME. Since am
a due paying member of the fraternity, they could talk to me more frankly
than to the police. They recognized I was not shocked or concerned by their
sexual exploits.

Monty was now a successful interior decorator, but he had an aimless youth
and had a hard time holding down a job. He had been dependent on the
kindness of gentlemen and strangers. He had worked for Lonnie a few
times. Monty had been a beauty and he found out he could do better on his
own with a more up-scale clientele.

He did move in those circles and heard gossip. Monty sold sex and
companionship. He did not fuck and tell, and he did not use his skills for
sidelines such as blackmail. He was a discrete, safe, and energetic lover.

One of his gentleman friends had a bad experience with Lonnie and a man
called Duddy. Monty had the impression that Lonnie handled the boys and
girls.  Duddy handled other income sources. Duddy's brother was
photographer.  Monty didn't know his name. Monte thought a woman was
involved, but she had nothing to do with the gay part of the
organization. there had been photos and a cash payment, but it was for
$4,000.00. That wasn't a problem for Monte's friend. This had been in the
1980s and the photo was on film. The payment included the photos and the
negatives.

Matt also had been briefly a part of Lonnie's stable. His early life had
been screwed up due to the sexual confusion. His father had left. and his
mother wanted a girl. Luckily, he had run into a counselor who told him to
go with the sexual identity that he wanted. He found a good doctor who
helped with hormone treatments that reinforced his male identity.

His time with Lonnie was not good. He was a freak added for extra
titillation for Lonnie's clients. Because of Matt's physical situation, he
served both gay and straight clients. "I didn't mind the guys who were just
curious. Some were pretty nasty," Matt said. "Lonnie was mostly
business-like, but Miss Willy was a bitch."

"Who was Miss Willy?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. She was close to Lonnie, but I never got her last name. They
charged extra to satisfy sadists. I heard it might have been $5,000.00.  I
got $50,00 an hour regardless. Willy liked the profit margin."

"Did you get hurt?"

"Just bruises, but when I saw a knife, I got out. I was running down the
street stark naked when Basil picked me up. He was nice. He found a guy who
needed a house boy. He was eighty, and he liked the way I looked.  He was
nice," Matt said. "I heard that when Lonnie found out he got really mad. He
said he hated it when the merchandise was damaged[BW1]."

From the police I found another clue.  I hadn't known Susan's mother's
name. She was known as Susan's mother, that woman, or that god damned
woman. Her name was Roberta Smith. The police found out that wasn't her
only name. She was also Bobbie Smithson, Robin Smithy and Berta
Bigtits. Berta Bigtits was her stage name at the Excelsior Gentleman's
Club. The city police knew all about the club. It's carefully designed to
skirt the prostitution laws.

The club as a place to contact people, prostitutes, drug dealers, gamblers
and like-minded folks. The actual deals were made elsewhere.  It just
happened that if you needed drugs or a date for the nigh the Excelsior Club
was the place to go. I assume a business that uses a strip club as the
legitimate front is near the bottom of the criminal food chain.

The Excelsior Gentleman's Club had high standards for admission, $40.00 for
a single night and a weekly pass for $100.00. For an extra $200.00 you
could have private booth. It was legally a private club, not a business.
The Chairman of the Board of Managers was a man named Dudley
Goodall. Monty's mention of Duddy was a possible link.

I was still with the police when we heard a report of the murder of a woman
identified as Robin Smithy. I had to get to the Ballet, but Harold went off
to the crimes scene to see if it was Susan's mother.

Mornings at the ballet were comparatively quiet. It was the staff and the
professional dancers and musicians with only a scattering of
volunteers. The performance was only three days away, so everyone was busy.
Harold called me at noon to say it was Susan's mother. She had been
stabbed. As he gave me that information Susan and some of her friends came
in the door. These girls were in the performance and had a half day off
from school. They checked in and went to the dressing rooms.

I called Harold and told him that Susan was at the ballet. I then called
Elizabeth and told her the situation.  She went into action. Roberta Smith
was hard to contact, so the school had alternative contacts on file
including the Grandmother and former husband. Elizabeth knew everyone in
Norfolk and she called the police chief, and gave him the information.

The television already had a story on a possible murder victim. The police
would notify Susan, but that needed to be done quickly. Roberta dressed
flamboyantly, and Elizabeth recognized the dress on the television. The
body had been 100 feet from the camera, but the dress was visible.

The Police chief was pissed. There was no way any reporters or TV crews
should have been close enough to see the body or the dress. The police
arrived at the ballet 15 minutes later and told Susan. Her father arrived a
half hour later.  He was a welder at the Newport News Shipyard. He looked
bit rough, but the grandmother got there a few minutes later. They left
with Susan a half hour later. Susan looked shaken, but clearly was
comfortable with her family.

Elizabeth had a meeting with the staff and dancers and told them of
Roberta's death. They then resumed rehearsals. The show must go on.

Susan had been attacked and now her mother was dead. The events had to be
related, but there was no way that the assailant had seen Roberta. She had
arrived at the scene ten minutes after the attack.

If Roberta had been in a blackmail scam that went bad, other people who had
been involved might be worried.  Somehow, I doubted she would hold up well
under questioning. Attempted blackmail is a crime, but I seemed to me
killing a co-conspirator was extreme. Why would someone trade in a crime
that might result in two or three years in jail for a crime that might mean
life in jail or the death penalty in Virginia?  Even a dumb criminal could
do the math. Typically, white collar criminals aren't into violence.

It was possible that the criminal was stupid, or we were dealing with a
bigger crime.  Could Roberta have gone free-lance instead of doing what she
was supposed to do? Was stabbing a guy too much?

That evening the building emptied out quickly after the rehearsal.
Elizabeth ordered that there be no late-night work on the sets or
costumes. The building was empty, and I was home by 10:00.

Dick must have been waiting for me in his car. As soon as I was in my
apartment, he was at the door. He had some more information about the At
Your Service operation. He explained he had been embarrassed to tell me
with his friends listening.

"Everyone thinks I am 100% top," Dick said. "That's not exactly true. I not
much of a bottom, but I like gangbangs. It seems that five or ten cocks in
my ass really hits the spot for me. Does that sound stupid?"

"You are either a Mr. Macho top, or a desperately needy bottom craving as
multiple cocks?" I asked. He nodded.

"Do you like to be tied in a sling?" I asked. He nodded again.

"You need to be forced to enjoy it? I asked.

"I like to be dominated," he said.

"What does At Your Service have to do with this?"

"I was a service they provided, mostly for gay birthday or special events
at clubs, I was masked, but some of the guys liked fucking a big old bear,"
he said. "I did a few bear events too. I own a big construction
company. This wouldn't be good for my business.

"I paid Lonnie to find guys for me, but he decided he could offer me as a
service. He worked with gal named Willy Schmidt. She was the brains behind
the operation. I had the feeling Willy was a watchdog for someone else,"
Dick said. "When I was talking with Lonnie, she was on the cell with
someone else. She wasn't giving orders, she was taking them."

"What sort of money was involved?" I asked.

"That is the other embarrassing part. I paid $1,500.00 to be fucked. Some
of the guys who fucked me paid $1,000.00.  there was a $150.00 fee for
testing.  The guys didn't want to catch anything," Dick said. "A few guys
got a frequent flyers discount, $750.00. The smallest group was six men."

"And the biggest?" I asked.

"Twelve, unless you count a convention gig.  There may have been twenty
there," he said rather sheepishly.

"Did you know any of the men?"

"No, most wore masks. I like anonymous hook ups. I did meet one guy,
Phil. He told me about an orgy in Charlotte. I went to one and got all the
sex I needed, so I left Lonnie," he said.

"Did that bother him?" I asked.

"Not particularly. He said he would need to find another source of pocket
money," Dick replied.

There was a knock at the door. It was Butch with another man. "Catfish this
is Marty, my friend from ACME.  He got fired today and I need to find a
safe place for him." Marty was a tall, thin, bald guy with an unkempt
beard. He seemed uneasy.

I asked them in and introduced them to Dick. Butch and Dick immediately
bonded. Marty seemed to like Dick too. I had a six-pack in the refrigerator
and everyone relaxed. I had a beer and promptly fell asleep. I must have
been more tired than I thought.

I woke up at 5:30 AM feeling relaxed and rested. I must have been a bit
groggy, since it took me a little while realize Marty was sucking my
cock. My cock felt at home in his mouth. I moved a little.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"I don't think so. I usually wake up at his time," I said. "You don't need
to stop. It feels good."

"Butch told me that you have a nice one," Marty said. "He didn't tell me
just how nice it is."

"Did you guys have a good time last night?"

"I sure did! Most guys make me suck, or they fuck me. Dick and Buster let
me do everything. It was great," he said. He returned to sucking me and
quickly got me off.  It was a good way to start the day."

[BW1]