Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 33
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 33--Surprises in a Box
The photo shoot was not working: equipment broke, clothes did not fit right, the lighting was wrong. Finally , at 8:30 PM, Dorn called a halt to resume fresher at 6:30 AM for morning light. Exhausted, Chris stumbled over the small package outside his door. "Sir," Beach's voice was a comforting welcome, "please do not disturb the package. It is suspicious. I have called Officer Donaldson and he and a member of the forensic team will presently arrive." Chris stepped around the package and into the waiting arms of Tom.
"Don't worry, hon," Tom soothed Chris as he led him to the sofa and a glass of white wine. It is probably nothing, but I would like to be cautious."
"Why is the package suspicious? We get packages all the time. It is very normal to have several at the door waiting for us."
"Sir," Beach's voice was that lovely baritone with a British accent, so Sean Connery. "We had not expected deliveries today. All orders are in my system. Second, I checked the carrier and they had no deliveries in their system. Third, the man who dropped off the package was not in a standard carrier uniform. Finally, are the threatening emails, most of which I do not take seriously, but one has been consistent even though it is from different addresses and burner phones."
Tom rounded on Chris. "Did you know about these emails?" Tom was both angry and protective. "You are a very public figure, even if you do not see it. People are jealous or hateful." Tom placed a possessive arm around Chris, pulling him closer.
"Officer Donaldson and two other men are present at your door." Beach seriously announced.
Donaldson, in jeans, T-shirt and a leather jacket was escorted in by Tom, who was followed by two men wearing black suits. "Hey Chris, nice to see you again, but not under these circumstances. First time I've been called to a potential crime scene by a computer." He chuckled as he gave Chris a reassuring hug. "This is Officer Pickering and Officer Kazarian from our forensics unit." Officer Pickering was a tall, at least 6' 3" lean African American man with ebony skin, short hair, square face and warm smile. Officer Kazarian was maybe an inch taller than Chris, likely Middle Eastern because of the skin tone, black curly hair worn long and unruly. Kazarian's eyes scanned the room and then Chris and Tom like a man ready for an ambush.
"Mr. Wentworth," Chris insisted on using first names, "Then call me Obi. My partner is Kirkan, but everybody calls him Kirk. We are with the forensics unit and understand that you have a suspicious package. Has anyone handled the package."
"No sir," Beach cut in startling the two detectives, much to Chet's amusement. "The only person to handle the package was the delivery person." Kirk awkwardly said thank you. "I do have video displays available." Beach added, with what Chris thought was a hint of pride.
"Thanks," said Officer Pickering to the air. "Chris, would you show me the package?" Both officers put gloves on while Chet pulled out of his jacket pocket a small digital camera.
"Inspectors," Beach said as the two detectives looked at the box. "I do not believe the package has any explosives because of the way the carrier handled the box. He dropped it by the door."
"Thank you," said Detective Kazarian, less flummoxed by the disembodied voice. Chris said the voice was Beach. "Thank you Beach,"
"You are welcome sir." Chris assured the two that the voice was really a computer.
After twenty minutes of staring at the box and debating the risks, they decided to open it on Chris's balcony. Beach brought up the outside lights to full while Detective Pickering slit the box open. Inside was a female ragdoll with blond hair, a tattered dress and a large penis sown in the crotch. The doll had a knife pinning a note to the chest. In red crayon the note said "CUNTBOI, RETURN WHAT IS MINE."
Chris looked at Tom and gasped, "Toby?" When Detective Kazarian quirked a stare at Chris, Chris explained what happened with Toby in Chicago. Chris also needed to explain the meaning of the doll, which Kazarian recorded without raising an eyebrow. Detective Pickering found no obvious fingerprints, but the lab would do more work.
Millie can upstairs at Chris's invitation. Her guilt at letting the man into the building was overwhelming. "He seemed like a polite enough young man," She sobbed, wringing a handkerchief in her hands into a tight knot. "Said it was his first day on the job. Kept his face down though, wouldn't look at me." Chris sat next to her, a soothing arm around her. "Should have been suspicious of the fucker when he would not look at me." When prompted she described who might have been Toby or a thousand other young black men. Video footage was also inconclusive because the person of interest avoided looking anywhere there might be a camera. Although both Chris and Tom said the walk was like Toby, a cocky sliding motion. Chet was also interested in the footage because of the ongoing drug investigation.
After almost two hours, Chet and the two detectives left. Millie was still shaking on the sofa, so Chris offered Millie a glass of sherry. She looked at Chris, eyes red from crying, "Fuck no, I need a double shot of bourbon." Chris smiled at Tom, who poured the three of them a glass of Jefferson's Ocean. Chris lit the fireplace and had Beach play soft soothing music. Before twenty minutes, members of the coop were dropping by to make sure Chris was okay. Tom served drinks while they soothed Chris and Millie, ranted about why someone could be so sick, and planned better security. Although Chris was exhausted, he knew he was among people that cared for him; with that thought, Chris dozed off.
"Think we need to go," Louisa said, as the rest said good night and quietly left.
"I sure got lucky when I moved in here," Chris said as he huddled into Tom with Tom's arm around his shoulder pulling him closer.
"Yes, you did, but you bring out the best in people."
Chris huffed into Tom's arm pit, "Not Toby."
Tom pulled Chris tighter to comfort and with fear. "Not Toby. We need to improve security."
"Sirs," Beach softly interrupted. "I have ordered Hikvision DS-2TD1217B-3/PA Thermographic Turret Cameras that are equipped with highly sensitive thermal and optical sensors and a graphical processing unit to run the video content analysis (VCA) algorithms developed by Hikvision's deep learning technology."
"Is that description from their website?" Just when he thought Beach was almost human, he acted like a computer.
"Yes sir. Did I overstep myself"
"No Beach, that is very good. We appreciate your diligence and forethought. Just don't order machine gun turrets."
"Yes, sir. I will cross them off my list." Chris did not hear this comment for he was asleep.