Date: Sat, 21 Oct 2023 22:35:13 -0400 From: Ronald Speener Subject: Chrysalis Part 2 Chapter 6 Chrysalis Part 2: Chrysalis Growing Chapter 6--Making Amends 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 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 6--Making Amends Chris and Juan walked into the deli to the immediate hug of Stella and the hoovering of Stan. "You okay my boy?" Stella cooed, smothering him into her breasts so he could not answer. As quickly as she pulled him into her chest, she yanked him out, holding him at forearm length. "Are you really, okay?" "I am fine," Chris laughed trying to free himself from her strong grip. "My sweater tore, but he got a broken nose. I think I was the victor in this case." Chris's smile showed how touched he was by their genuine concern. "Good for you boy," Stan patted Chris on the back. "Show them buggers not to mess with you." "Dad made me go to self-defense classes for five years. Mom insisted on piano and ballet, so to be even, Dad got me into self-defense." "Smart man." Stan nodded. "Yeah, in many ways, but in important ways no." Chris did not further comment but slid into what was now his booth. Juan slid in beside him. Stella took the orders and headed toward the kitchen, but Stan slid into the seat across from Juan and Chris. Stella realized that Stan did not following her. "You goin'a cook?" she yelled. "Later." He yelled back. With resignation, Stella slid in beside Stan. "You need to tell us everything. You know the news is basic." Stan said. "From the picture on the news, his pecker was pervy, although the dot they used to hide it, was so small. Surprised he could find it even with a flashlight." Stella commented. Chris laughed. "I think they photo shopped it for effect. It was not that small when it was pointing up in my face." "That bastard shoved his johnny at you." Stan was gritting his teeth. "Now, I don't mind a penis shoved at my face when it is as cute as Juan's." I could feel the heat from Juan turning red. "Honey, you are so cute when you blush." Stella said taking Juan's hand. The red became scarlet. Chris looked at Juan, who was ready to kill, "You are adorable when blushing. I will do it more often." "Don't you dare," Juan growled. Chris just kissed his cheek and laughed, as did Stan and Stella. This started Juan to laughing too. "Revenge is best served in a cold bed." Juan lightheartedly replied, with a squint to the eyes. "Duly noted and sufficiently chastised." Chris pulled Juan into a hug. "Finish the story so I can cook you boys' breakfast," Stan. At this telling Chris found the story was actually amusing--Pearl Pureheart and Snidely Whiplash, until he thought of all the kids, Dennis Duncan abused. As Stan and Stella were exiting the booth, Tom came into the deli and took their place. He smiled, eyeing both of them. "You both look more rested than I expected." Juan blushed slightly, which amused Tom. Chris's phone rang and he scooted Juan out of the booth so to talk with outside without the background noise. "Andy," Chris mouthed to Tom. Tom just nodded. As Juan slid back in, Tom pinned Juan with a serious stare. "What are your intentions with Chris?" Juan was confused. "Intentions?" "Yes, intentions, where is your relationship with Chris going? I know you are having sex. Is he just a good lay?" Juan turned a violent shade of puce, "It is not any of your fucking business." Tom stared at Juan and then started to guffaw. "Yeah, that is the best answer." Juan was not mollified, so Tom continued. "You are absolutely right it is none of my business, and that is the same answer Chris would give me." Tom gave one of his most charming smiles. "It tells me that you care enough about him to keep the intimate moments private. I just worry about Chris too much." Tom sighed, "He keeps telling me that. And then, yesterday, the sexual assault and his emphatic reaction, just reminds me that he is right in many ways. I am not sure that his heart is as strong." Tom realized that was more serious than he intended, "Did he have any nightmares last night." "No, he slept very well. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally. I just snuggled him against me. Did you know he snores?" Tom nodded yes. "Cute little pony sounds." Tom laughed and relaxed. "You are wrong about Chris's heart." Juan said while staring at Tom, "He told me about his father and the street. Chris is very generous with his feelings, but he guards his heart closely. He will not give it until he is sure that whoever it is entrusted to will guard it with him." "Has he given it to you?" Tom asked truly curious. "No," Juan sighed, "I don't think he ever will." The statement was neither sad nor resigned. Tom was not sure the Juan wanted that responsibility. Juan smirked, "We are just friends with benefits." Chris returned and slid in beside Juan. "Andy wanting to know how I am. And then Zoe and Slim, called about the same. How they all know it was me in the photo; so much for protecting the victim." Chris laughed at the irony. Chris turned to Juan, "They asked us over Sunday evening for a quiet supper. `Do you want to go?'" "Are you sure?" Juan asked looking directly at Chris, "We are shopping for computers Saturday and Jazzabell's club that night, and now Sunday." Juan gave a small smile. "Won't that be too much of me?" Chris hit him in the shoulder, "How can one get tired of that face." Chris pinched Juan's cheeks, which caused Juan to blush. "Just another opportunity to see you blush." Chris turned to Tom, "Isn't he adorable when he blushes." Tom just looked at the two, feeling a little hollow, and nodded. The food was delivered, including Tom's French toast. Chris looked at the French toast and Tom. "So what if I am predictable. The French toast is amazing." After eating, Juan excused himself because he needed to get ready for school: World Literature, he put a finger down his throat and left. "We should leave to. Don't want to keep Cynthia waiting." Tom rose and helped Chris slid out of the seat. "See you tonight, without news coverage." Chris waved to Stan and Stella standing side by side next to the cash register. Chris and Tom arrived at Silent Models fifteen minutes early. The receptionist offered coffee, which both graciously accepted. "So how are things between you and Juan?" The question was more concern than prying. "Good," Chris smiled, uncertain about how much he should tell Tom before Tom became protective. "He is funny and very naïve." Tom tilted his head, "You are corrupting him? Turning him to the dark side." Chris frowned at that thought. "I'm kidding. You know I thought you naïve when I first met you. Boy was I wrong. Chaz texted me yesterday afternoon asking how you are doing and if you had strong armed anyone. I sent him the pic of you and Duncan." "You didn't?" Tom deliberately nodded affirmative. "Has he responded?" "Chaz works on half time. What takes us an hour to respond to takes Chaz three. I should hear from him later today. I'll let you know his comments. I'm sure it will be pithy." "I like Chaz," Chris added. "over-sexed, strange parties, but I like him." "Yeah, he is pretty cool now that he has grown into himself." "Juan and I are..." Chris fluttered his hands to say uncertain. "Are you a couple?" Chris did not immediately answer. "No, I don't think so. Maybe with time. He is a diversion. I don't mean this in a callous way, because I do not want to hurt him. We mesh and share some of the same interests, but there is not a spark on either of our parts. I like to think we are growing in friendship." Tom did not say anything, which worried Chris. "Did he say something I should know?" "No, he said about the same thing as you, although he does like the sex." "The sex is very good," Chris grinned. "Hi, Chris and Tom," Cynthia broke the conversation. "I am please you could make it on such short notice." Cynthia shook hands with both. "Chris, if you would follow me?" She gestured to the hallway door. Tom started to follow. "Tom, we shouldn't be more than a half hour, if you have other things to do." Chris looked at the confused Tom and followed Cynthia to a conference room with six people around it. Cynthia gestured to a chair next to the head of the table, where Cynthia sat. All the eyes were staring at him but he did not sense hostility as he sat: curiosity, humor, and maybe boredom. "Let me do introductions." Cynthia said as she pointed to Chris to take a seat to her right. "Bill Evans." She pointed to the man across from Chris. He was in his mid to late forties, wearing an impeccable suit, His hair and beard were short and manicured as fine as a golf green. "Next to him is Estella Green." She was an African American woman, thin of uncertain age--a timeless beauty. She was wearing an African patterned tunic top with a high collar. Grey wove through her black hair, mercury through black marble. "Next is Candice La Valle." Candice smiled at Chris; she was twentyish, but that could have been Botox. "At the end of the table, opposite is Ted Poppidos ." Ted bowed his head to Chris. He was in his mid-thirties or older, wearing often laundered and stretched T-shirt. The diamond in his ear glinted into Chris's eye, making him blink. "Next to you Chris is Renee Offenbach ." A man, early thirties, and dressed preppy but in pastel lavender and pink. His hair matched. "The last person on this side is Marylynne Albright" She was mostly lost in the shadow of Renee . She wore a loose-fitting caftan and filled it. She leaned around to catch Chris's eye and burst into a warm reassuring grin. Cynthia sat and turned to Chris, "I am sure that you are a little confused about this meeting. We are on the board of the Garment District Association and wanted to formally thank you for exposing the perfidious behavior of Mr. Duncan. We have been aware of his behavior for several years, but none of his victims would confide any details." "That fucking S.O.B, bamboozled vulnerable people into believing he had any clout. He only had the job because his wife owns the Slackers brand." Bill was fuming. "That poor woman, what she must feel now," lamented Estrella. "I always avoided him," added Renee, "He pinched my bottom once and almost lost fingers. He claimed he was reaching for lint." This prompted a harsh laugh from the man. Cynthia stared everyone down for quiet. "As is obvious, he is not a well-liked man. But for the reason you are here. We want to extend our grateful thanks and give you a little something." She handed Chris a check for three thousand dollars. Chris went blank. "I know that it took courage to stand up to him. The staff at Slacker sent us several cam versions of the incident." Cynthia motioned to the side and staff brought in champagne flutes and bottles. This was followed by small hor dourves. The staff started to pour Chris a glass, when Ted stood and waved the staff back, "Are you really a minor?" The look pinned Chris to his chair. "No sir, I lied to him. I thought he might back off if he thought I was under age. So wrong about that." The man laughed waving the staff to pour Chris's glass. "Chris, you deserve a whole bottle for the balls you showed. Mean right hook." "Thank you sir," Chris took the full glass and had a sip. He had champagne before, mostly a sip at holidays and bought on the cheap side. This was drinking star shine. "Chris, please call me Ted. I own Tuxed In. I design and make tuxedos for many of the fashion houses. They put their name on it. If you need a tuxedo, see me--on the house." Chris's brain whirled, "I just might. I have an invitation to Ariel Greenwood's gallery opening the end of May. I would like to impress her." "You know Ariel Greenwood!" Marylynne butted in. "I've met her briefly at New York Fashion Week. She always seemed so down to earth and warm." Chris stood and leaned around Renee. "She is wonderful. She sent me a text when I first got here asking if I was settling in." "I assume that you know Cedrick too," stated Estrella. Chris nodded, while she went on about generous he is to the Haarlem Young Arts Association. "The word on the street," said Candice, "is that you are Tom Greenwood's protégée." "I suppose more a mentor, since my experience in fashion is a little more than a week." "Shit, you're fucking kidding," Candice almost stood. Cynthia raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "Stu and I go back a long way, so he sent me your portfolio." Ted said. "Have any of you seen it?" Everyone but Cynthia, said no. He bent over and dropped on the table an old battered canvas satchel. He pulled out a simple black ring binder and handed it to Candace. "I tried to book you for October, but Stu is sending you to Milan. He is very impressed by you as am I." The binder made its way around the table with the sound of laminated sheets turning and an intake of air. Eyes would dart from page to Chris and then back to page. Bill carefully and professionally examined each page until he inhaled on a swallow and started coughing. He took a health drink of champagne, giving Chris a nod of the head that said what did you expect hot stuff. Cynthia just slid the book past her to Renee. Since he was sitting next to Chris, Chris noticed him shifting trying to adjust his lavender chinos. Chris could not help discreetly smile when Chris caught pink boy's attention to quickly drop his eyes to the man's crotch. Pink boy turned the same color as his shirt. Cynthia and Bill caught Chris's eye movements and the resulting color change, they smiled also discretely at each other. When Marylynne finally pulled the portfolio away from Renee, she delicately turned each page with a hum and then a gasp. "You could make nude a fashion statement. The latest fashion trend." She laughed loudly, "The Emperor's New Clothes apparel." "We can't have that; we'd all be out of business." Candace said with a laugh. "So please, Chris stay clothed." Everyone laughed and agreed, except for Renee, who was less enthusiastic. Ted shoved the portfolio into his bag and stood, "Sorry, got to run. I've threads to hawk." He walked over to Chris and gave him a man hug. "I look forward to working with you. If Stu doesn't price you too high," he said with a grin. "My pleasure too," Chris stopped uncertain how do finish. Renee quickly packed up and left. Chris noticed his pants were having a fashion mistake. The other ladies gave warm cheek kisses and thanked him vociferously for punching Dennis. Ted walked over to Chris, "Tom is mentoring you." He shook his head. "You are far more professional and mature. "I was force to be." Chris commented. Ted looked at Cynthia but saw stone "I will love working with you soon." Cynthia broke in, "He is mine for the next three weeks." "I thought I had Chris's ear close to the ground, yours must be in it." Ted waved and left the room. "Sit, Chris and finish your champagne. Tom can sit a little longer. It will do him good." Cynthia paused before asking, "Are you a couple." "No mam," Chris quickly corrected to Cynthia when he earned a frown. "I am not sure what we are. But be assured, I know who I am." Cynthia laughed, "I have the photos to prove it. It is on the employee bulletin board. You do not know how much I appreciate you slugging Dennis. I've hired a few young men away from him. They were terrified of anyone touching them, and I heard there were photos of kids." Cynthia hit the table hard, the sound reverberating through the empty room like gun shot. "I am not a violent person, but him. I would tie his balls with rope to a high window, throw him out the window and watch his balls pop off before he hit the ground." "Ouch," Chris whined, "Let me never piss you off. "Maureen, his receptionist called me yesterday evening to see if I was okay, which I thought very sweet. She wanted to grind his genitals in her grandmother's meat grinder" Cynthia laughed, "He was one mean bastard. I hope he rots in jail forever." She led Chris out to the waiting area where Tom was pacing. "About time, I was just about ready to rush in and rescue you." Chris stopped and folded his arms across his chest. "I know, I know, you don't need rescuing. But I can't help if I think of you as a fragile orchid." Cynthia laughed, "Tom, you do know that orchids are one of the toughest flowers on the planet. I have several in front of my patio window. I leave them for weeks at a time and they do just fine. Chris is your stalwart orchid, tough and beautiful." "Then I guess I need another flower. I want him helpless and needy. God I sound very pathetic when I hear myself say this." "You saw what he did. How he stood up to Dennis Duncan and smashed his nose. Would you rather he was weak and fragile and let that dirty old man abuse him?" "Never." At the bottom of the stairs to Chris's apartment, Tom asked, "Can I come up." Chris politely said, "No." "Why?" "You have a boyfriend." "No, I don't," Tom was incensed at the statement. "Toby." "Toby's just a close friend." Chris turned down the edge of his lip. "He practically has moved in." "Has not." "How much of your closet has his clothes. How much space in your bathroom is occupied by his stuff. You eat together most days, and he spends most nights with you. That says to me `boyfriend'." "He has no problem sleeping with other men and I have no problem him doing it. That does not sound like a boyfriend relationship." "How often does he bring a guy or guys home and you share. Some boyfriends bring home flowers or candy, Toby just brings home boy toys. It's his way of pampering you." "He gets benefits out of it too. It not just me." "And you enjoy watching and sharing, like lovers sharing food on a plate." "You could join us." "No Tom. Toby and I are barely polite to each other. That would be cruel to both of us." Chris turned Tom around and gave a slight shove. "Go home Tom." Chris went up the stairs and unlocked the door to his apartment. It was dark and empty, but it was his.