Date: Sun, 14 Jan 2024 21:23:27 -0500 From: Ronald Speener Subject: Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 32 Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 32 This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets challenges, his soul mate and many other soon to be friends. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental. The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move. This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023 All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval system, without the written permission of the copyright owned to the extent permitted by law. Please contribute to Nifty. They do a great job of providing stories that please the senses, titillate the mind, and expand our view of the world. Chapter 32--Confluences "It this place always this crowded?" Millie whispered to Chris as she looked around the club. Chris followed her gaze noting that the place was at capacity, but there was something else in the air--expectancy. Jazzabel placed Chris's group at a table for twelve in the VIP section. The only other table was one for six: four men and two women. The women were dressed for the place while the men, dressed in jeans and button-down shirts...looked uncomfortable. Chris gave a nod of greeting to the two men who looked at Chris's table. They only glared like he did not belong in this august section. Chris gave a bigger smile; when someone is being an ass do the opposite with greater panache. One of the women rolled her eyes at the two men and returned Chris's smile. "No Millie, the crowd size is usual. This is a very popular place." Chris replied to Millie, "but the crowd is more hyped than usual." Two friendly waiters came and took drink orders, returning quickly with the beverages. The lights dimmed, the crowd howled, and music started. The warm up show started with a stunning vocal by a young African American singer with a stunning range and emotional grasp of the lyrics. Jazzabel was always promoting promising talent. The comic was socially relevant with a wide band of bawdy burlesque. Four very fit men in teardrop G-string did a sensuous dance routine that edged over toward limits of pornographic but still beautiful in the sensuous movements to the music; they were a great hit. Chris recognized Zack's hand in the choreography. The dance ended, Jazzabel's theme song started. The young men pulled back the curtain to escort Jazzabel to the front of the stage. Jazzabel was stunning in a midnight blue full length sequined slit up the side to the left hip. She had a high bouffant midnight blue wig with a cascade of white lilies in it. In her midnight blue evening gloved hands, she held one white lily which she held close to her breasts. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and to the majority of you who are in between these." The crowd roared; Jazzabel touched the lily to her lips in an appreciative smile. "While all my performances are beyond fabulous, tonight will be one to tell your grandchildren about because I have a special guest and friend who will be joining me." The crowd roared even louder; dust settled from the ceiling. Murmurs of Chez, or Liza. Jazzabel heard the comments "And not those old dried queens, but young blood." As planned the music swelled behind her as the curtain opened again displaying a four piece jazz band consisting of piano, clarinet, bass and drums. Jazzabel sang: When the only sound in the empty street Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet That belongs to a lonesome cop I open shop When the moon so long has been gazing down On the wayward ways of this wayward town That her smile becomes a smirk, I go to work. Love for sale, appetizing young love for sale Love that's fresh and still unspoiled Love that's only slightly soiled Love for sale Who will buy? Who would like to sample my supply? Who's prepared to pay the price For a trip to paradise? Love for sale. (Cole Porter, 1930) As she sang the four young men stroked themselves and each other pantomiming the song. "Thank you boys" Jazzabel gestured to the dances as she finished the song. "You are just too fucking hot." "How much for them?" a voice yelled from the crowd. "Ten thousand each." Jazzabel glared at the man, who looked to be in his sixties. "One would give you a heart attack, two would be a stroke, three would be senility and four would be death." "But what a way to go." the man yelled back. The crowd laughed at that. "True bliss" "How deceptive and destructive are those pictures of consummate bliss!" Jazzabel retorted then sang. Oh, it's a long long while From May to December But the days grow short When you reach September When the autumn weather Turns leaves to flame One hasn't got time For the waiting game Oh, the days dwindle down To a precious few September, November. (Kurt Weill, 1938) "Now in the winter of our discontent," Jezebel continued, "is the frolicking season of May, fresh faced youth and innocence and dreams." She paused to look around the room. Fair moon, to thee I sing, Bright regent of the heavens, Say, why is everything Either at sixes or at sevens? Say, why is everything Either at sixes or at sevens? (Gilbert & Sullivan, 1878) A spot light hit Chris, momentarily blinding him. He stood, smiled at Jazzabel knowing that she tried to throw him by singing Gilbert and Sullivan. Chris moved to the railing, put an index finger to his cheek and tilted his head demurely. I'm called Little Buttercup, dear Little Buttercup, Though I could never tell why, But still I'm called Buttercup ? poor little Buttercup, Sweet Little Buttercup I! I've snuff and tobaccy, and excellent jacky, I've scissors, and watches, and knives; I've ribbons and laces to set off the faces Of pretty young sweethearts and wives. Chris looked at Jazzabel with a grin. He saw below him six burly men watching him. Chris smiled, spread his arms, and like a swan leapt into the sky. The crowd gasped, but the men caught Chris, and like a sacrificial victim, he carried to the stage. Chris was gently deposed on the stage, standing. "That is an entrance." Jazzabel enthused to the watchers. "This is my good friend Chris. Not only is Chris a talented model, but also a talented performer." The piano was moved to the left of Jazzabel. Jazzabel motioned for him to sit. The crowd was silent. Chris started with the first few bars of Liszt's "Hungarian Rhapsody", morphed into a rag by Scott Joplin and then did the vamp for a Tango. Chris grinned at Jazzabel figuring he stumped her. Jazzabel shook her head and smiled. Si supieras, Que aún dentro de mi alma, Conservo aquel cariño Que tuve para ti Quién sabe si supieras Que nunca te he olvidado, Volviendo a tu pasado Te acordarás de mí...( Carlos Gardel, 1924) The place thundered with applause. "My sexy friend thought he could stump with Carlos Gardel - La Cumparsita." Jazzabel moved around and sat next to Chris on the piano stool. "My turn." Jazzabel moved her hands over the keys. Chris mouthed bastard to her. Ahl-dee-oh-lay-eee-hee Ahl-dee-oh-lay-eee-hee-heee Ahl-dee-oh-lay-hee-hee, oh-dah-lay-hee-hee Oh-dah-lay-heee Tramping down the highway, traveling day and night I don't know where I'm going to, but I'll get there all right I have no one to care for me, I have no place to go Everybody knows I'm just a yodeling hobo..(Gene Autry, 1930) By the end of the song Chris has audience yodeling with him. Chris and Jazzabel dueled for two more sets. She rose from the piano bench, dragging Chris with her. "There is one more person I would like to join us on stage." The spotlight hit Matías, who only blinked slightly. He rose and stood on the table, a rock star god in black leather pants, black T-shirt with a rhinestone collar glittering in the spotlight. The drums, started a beat, then the guitar and last the piano. Matías struck a pose as he recognized the start of Queen's "Spread Your Wings". Chris and Jazzabel sang the first two lines and Matías continued, strutting like Freddy on the table. ...Over and over again Knew it was time He'd made up his mind To leave his dead life behind His boss said to him Boy you'd better begin To get those crazy notions right out of your head Sammy who do you think that you are You should've been sweeping up the Emerald bar. At the end of that stanza, Matías did a somersault off the low balcony to land on his feet on the ground floor. The six burly men kept the crowd away as Matías strutted up to the stage to complete the song with Chris and Jazzabel harmonizing. It was pandemonium in the house. Once the crowd settled, Jazzabel introduced Matías to hoots, hollers and one pair of black silk briefs. Matías picked up the briefs and smelt them, which roused the crowd even more. Jazzabel pulled Chris and Matías into a huddle. They nodded. The audience stilled as they recognized the opening notes. Chris sang in his clear high tenor: Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality. Matías took the next verse. His silky baritone sent shivers through Chris Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see, I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low, Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me. Jazzabel continued in a deep base, which Chris had not heard before, Mama, just killed a man, Put a gun against his head, Pulled my trigger, now he's dead. Mama, life had just begun, But now I've gone and thrown it all away...(Queen, 1975) So they went through the song, sometimes solo and sometimes duets and trios. They finished and the place was silent, before the house erupted. For the next hour, Chris, Matías, and Jazzabel performed. Matías collected several more sets of underwear with phone numbers on them, Chris roses, and Jazzabel adoration. Chris and Matías returned to their table to be mobbed by well-wishers until security intervened. Chris, who had been drinking ginger ale all evening switched to Irish Whiskey. Chris asked Millie if she was enjoying herself. "My dear boy, if I had known years ago that gay clubs could be so much fun, I would become a fag hag." Chris gave Millie a quizzical looked. "What? You don't think I keep up with some of the jargon." Everyone around Millie laughed. An usher asked Malcolm to follow him, which raised eyebrows, but caused no concern. The table of six kept looking over at Chris's table, then huddling together to talk. Tom was about to crash the table and introduce himself and ask what they found so interesting at his table when one of the women, in tight jeans, flowing red silk blouse and red stilettos came to them. "Excuse me for interrupting your evening. I want to say how much we enjoyed the show with Chris and Matías. We were skeptical about a drag show. You know they are all mostly the same, outrageous costumes and off time lip syncs. You have a well-rehearsed routine that feels so fresh." "I am sorry ma'am, but who the fuck are you?" Matías said before Chris could. "You are making a fist full of supposition. While Jazzabel does drag, it is not a drag show; it is cabaret with real people really singing. Second, Chris is a friend of Jazzabel who will occasionally perform with her because he likes her. He has a successful full-time job as a model, which I am sure you have seen unless you have confined your reading to Ladies Home Journal." Chris chuckled, "I am in Ladies Home Journal for a `What to Buy Your Man' ad." Chris glared at the woman. "Matías is a well-respected Broadway actor and joined Jazzabel on stage because she asked today. We are all here as her guests because she invited us when she was at my open house. No rehearsals." The woman had backed up a couple of paces. She looked at Chris and then Matías. "Fucking shit," she laughed to herself. "I should have recognized you Chris. My boss has been trying to arrange a meeting with you through Stu Ringer." She retrieved her chair from the other table and sat next to Chris. Chris wanted to object but did not want to make a scene. "I am Natalie Wong, Nat for short, I am an agent for Rising Star." Tom took a breath in. "We do mostly commercials, a few music videos, and feed new talent to Hollywood. One of the world's top, I mean top, female singers, saw your work for Silent Models and wants you in her next music video. Would you agree to do it. It would be major exposure and could further your career." "Ms. Wong, Nat, any discussion about any work needs to be arranged by Mr. Ringer, my agent." Chris gave the woman a saccharine smile. "Now we are here to enjoy our night out and not discuss business. You may return to your friends." Chris abruptly turned to Ariel. "Ariel, how are your galleries doing? You had mentioned opening one in Hong Kong." Natalie Wong sat like she had been hit beside the head with a cast iron frying pan. She stood, returned her chair and herself to her table and the buzzing wasps of her group. Millie gave Chris a cat grin. "The only person I ever knew that could do a put down while sound pleasant was Nancy Regan." She patted Chris's arm. "I am so glad we are friends. You make life so interesting." During the exchange with Ms. Wong, one of Jazzabel's burly men request Hymie to follow him. No one was overly concerned because it was Jazzabel. The Bar Bells, the name of Jazzabel's band, played her theme and Jazzabel returned to the stage. "To deviate from our usual show. I have something special for you deviants tonight." Slowly her eyes scanned the audience. The room hushed. "A virgin." Half the crowd clutched their breasts in mock shock. "Yes, a virgin: pure as the driven snow, innocent as a newborn, chaste as a nun on a deserted island." "He going to be fucked on stage," a voice in the crowd yelled. Jazzabel put her hands on her hips and scowled. "You are such a naughty boy to say such things. Didn't you mother ever school you that you should never say the word fuck. It is just fucking vulgar. What is fucking wrong with this younger generation." Jazzabel sighed, straitened her red and yellow wig, which matched her Gone with the Wind Gown. "No, all virginity is checked in at the door to be returned when you leave. After twenty-five years I have had no one avail themselves of that service. Our virgin tonight turned twenty-one a month ago and this is his first visit to this esteemed establishment. Tonight, he will have his first debauchery." A drum roll tattooed for attention as the four dancers, naked except for see-through harem pants entered carrying a palanquin with a figure covered in layers of silk. The band played Salome's Dance of the Seven Veils on saxophone and piano. As the boys danced a veil was removed from the seated figure. A fifth figure joined the four. He wore a blue and green turban with a peacock feather; his face hidden behind a decorated mask. A richly beaded vest over a bare chest and like the others harem pants in blue with green edging. He moved with the grace of a panther, the fluidity of water, the sensuousness of chocolate. As he danced it became obvious that he was erect, which made the dance more erotic. He played with each silk as it was removed like it was a lover. The audience was mesmerized by the ecdysiation of the man in the chair, whose leg, and arms were exposed. The four men took the corners of next to last silk, which was gold with red flowers, raising it to reveal Hymie, arms and legs tied with gold braided rope to the sedan chair. He was bright red with embarrassment and excitement. A single iridescent ice blue silk scarf covered Hymies privates. The four boys deftly played with the scarf and the position of their bodies so nothing was exposed. The masked man danced behind Hymie stroking his chest, an ear lobe, an arm and fliting back like a timid bird at a feeder. The music changed to a heavy disco beat and the four dances, like true fairies exited the stage with billowing silks in hand. The solitary masked man, casting aside the harem pants to be only in the vest and blue sequined jock that barely held his manhood, grinded and pumped against Hymie in a hot lap dance. Hymie squirmed both trying to avoid the touched and lean into them. The man was on his knees in front of Hymie teasing the silk covering. He raised the silk up, his head protecting Hymie's virtue. In one slick move, the silk was behind the dancer and the head dropped into Hymies crotch. The music ended. The man did not move. Hymie's eyes were unfocused and oblivious to the thunderous applause. Two of the dancers came out with an oriental screen and set it up in front of Hymie. Two others brought out a sequined robe that would kiss the floor. The screen was removed to reveal Hymie as elegant and exotic as a Whistler painting. In his hand he held a peacock feather fan, which he demurely covered the lower half of his face. The masked dancer, sweat glistening on his body like thousands of diamonds, removed his mask. Hymie scream in surprise and delight and pulled the man up for a kiss. Hymie kissed Malcolm, and Malcolm kissed back. Jazzabel move to Hymies side. The kiss at the end was not expected, but show business she knew flourished on the impromptu, the whim of fancy, the touch of the muse. "I think our young friend is most thoroughly debauched. Would you not say?" She extended her arm in a grand sweet of the room. The room responded with applause, whistles and several bawdy suggestions. "Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air:" With that she shewed Hymie and Malcolm off the stage. She looked up at Chris's table, who were all standing, applauding and stomping. She winked and found the piano that had been positioned on stage. She played a couple of arpeggio on the piano and started playing "I Finally Found Someone." "I finally found someone, that knocks me off my feet I finally found the one, that makes me feel complete We started over coffee, we started out as friends It's funny how from simple things, the best things begin" (Streisand, 1996) She gestured toward Chris who joined from the balcony in a duet. Chris was joined by Matías. The three voices merged, blended, and separated in a dance. The house went wild when the song was done. Chris and Matías bowed and sat. Hymie and Malcolm joined the table to enthusiastic hush from the group and blushes from both of them. "That was the hottest lap dance I have ever seen," Adam said. "If I were gay, I'd jump your bones." "Bro," Malcolm replied with a wicked look on his face. "We are all gay if the person is right. It is not gender but souls that should unit people." Shit Chris thought, Malcolm is a far deeper person than he first presents. "Tom," Chris broke in the silence. "I am exhausted. I need to go home." Tom nodded and stood taking Chris's hand. Millie, Chaz, Boyd, Hymie and Malcolm decided to leave with Chris. Chris told Matías to give Jazzabel his best. Tom called a van to pick them up. Millie left the boys at her condo door, thanking Chris for the invitation. It was one of the best nights of her life. Chaz and Boyd caught a cab to Tom's place. Hymie and Malcolm joined Chris and Tom in Chris's condo. "Malcolm," Tom said as the four sat in the living room, soft jazz playing and an Irish whiskey in each hand. "Your dance moves were so sexy I almost came in my jeans. Where did you learn to move like that?" Malcolm laughed and took a sip. "On the streets. I and some of my home boys would dance on the corner or a local bar. Like stomp it." "Did you plan on doing this tonight?" Chris asked. "It was a perfect performance." "Nay, just let the music tell the bod what to do. Organic." Hymie snuggled closer to Malcolm, who put his arm around Hymie. Chris looked at the two of them. "Seeing the performance tonight and how you are almost mounting Hymie, I take it your now gay." Malcolm moved away from Hymie and looked Hymie in the eyes. "Nop, don't think so." Hymie frowned. "My man Hymie, is the first dude who every rocked my crotch. But I definitely want to explore the itch and discover the cause of it." "You think Hymie is just a one nighter?" Tom asked, concern in his voice. "I can't say dude, but I don't think it is a one nighter. Never been with a dude before. Don't know what to do. Just know I need to treat him better than any chick I've dicked." "Never had a guy either," Hymie said as he grasped Malcolm's hand and looked into his eyes. "My brother Juan is gay and has a boyfriend, Zack, so I have heard them talk and listened to them have sex. But most of the mechanics are books and porn." "Well, my little chalupa we'll fumble together." Malcolm gently kissed Hymies forehead. "Tom, would you set the boys up in the guest room." Chris said. "I'll get them lube and condoms. Hymie may be a true virgin but you, Malcolm, are not---need to play safe until you are tested. If you want to pursue the relationship." "Malcolm and Hymie are a bit of a surprise," Tom said as he smuggled into an almost dozing Chris. "Maybe, but it is a good match. We just need to be supportive." Chris mumbled as he fell asleep in Tom's embrace. The buzzing of Chris's phone jarred him from a most pleasant dream. "Chris here."..."Fuck, it is too early to hear your overly chipper voice." Chris glanced at the clock on the end table. "It's not even 9:30. And it is Sunday. And I was out late last night. And I am still in bed with Tom--naked . So, this better be important."..."No I have not read today's paper."...."The society section."...."That is wonderful. Now I'm going back to snuggling with my man." Chris hung up. "Who was that?" Tom asked partially awake. "Ollie, something about something in the paper." Chris curled up next to Tom, his head on Tom's chest. Sleep did not linger long as noises in the living room intruded. "Time to get up," Tom gently moved Chris to the side so he could get up. "Our guests are a stirring." Ten minutes later Chris and Tom, in pajama pants and T-shirts, found both Hymie and Malcolm sitting on the balcony with coffee in their hands. "Coffee's on the counter. Hymie and I are taking you out for breakfast. A thanks for letting us crash." "I have no doubt there was more than a crash. May need to file an insurance claim over dented tail pipes." Hymie blushed at Tom's remark. "If I'd known fucking guys was so great, I would have done it sooner." He pulled Hymie toward him for a messy kiss. "But then I'm betting that it was the guy that makes the difference." Tom looked at Chris and both put a finger down their throat. Malcolm laughed. "That was sappy, but what can I say. I'm a romantic." "Want to take you to a deli that's beneath my brother and his boyfriend's place. It is amazing." Hymie was so excited about showing something new to the sophisticated Chris. "You do realize that I lived there before Juan moved in." "Oh yeah, right." "And Stella and Stan, the owners were her yesterday." "Right already, my goof. But we will still take you there. "Sir," Beach interrupted. "Millie is at the door." Before Chris fully opened the door, Millie shoved her way in. "I suppose you have not seen today's paper." She looked at Chris and Tom, who both looked baffled. "Too busy playing in bed," She gave both men a I-know-what-you-did look. "Your dinner party for the Co-op made the society page." "Shit," Chris muttered as he snatched the sheets of newspaper that Millie had in her hand. Tom and Chris sat together on the sofa as Chris read. "Byline Louisa Brently. I didn't know she also wrote for the newspaper." Chris commented. "Elegant dining may be dead in Manhattan, but it is alive in Brooklyn. Friday evening, I was a guest at the condo of Chris Wentworth, a charming multi-talented young man who shows great promise as a superstar model. It was an evening of convivial conversation and fantastic food. I have dined at the best restaurants on four continents, but none of them came close to the meal served. It was the classic seven course meal without the heavy sauces, pretentious presentations, or gastronomique wizardry. The food was recognizable but creative in preparation and delivery. Catered by Cibum, and their master chef Louise Peroni...." Chris stopped reading, "The article goes on about the event and the food. I understand why Ollie was so excited. This will help their business immensely." "There are many good comments about you in there too," Millie proudly added, which embarrassed Chris. "Shit bro, should have realized that you are a celebrity, after last night, and then the paper." Malcolm said all this tongue in cheek, which Chris appreciated. "Chris may not realize this, but since he has arrived in New York, he has become an influencer. People he touches have their lives changed." Tom said as he kissed Chris. "I know he had profoundly changed mine." "Mine too," added Millie. "Our also," Malcolm fondled Hymie. "Let's eat."