Catfish Joins the Ballet By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty!
My life changed after I lost my leg. I had always been involved in field work for my detective agency. Others took care of the day to day operations. As a short, bearded man I had been able to be inconspicuous. A one-legged, short, bearded man stands out. I had been able to take care of myself. I'm small, but friend described me as a terrier, well equipped to deal with rats and vermin. I use crutches now and that limits chases, and a swat at my crutch sends me to the ground.
I like action and that does not include office work. I realized that my office staff was very good, and I could contribute little so I left them do what they did well. Once and a while a job came my way that suited me.
For years we had been doing security for arts groups. While the Richmond Police did a good job providing visible security, Catfish and Company provided a second tier of undercover security. The Police were willing to do that, but they were police and had standards. Police tend to look like police. While we have standards too, we recruit unorthodox operatives.
When an art gallery had an opening, we provide artists types to mix in the crowd. We have men and women who can be street people and can infiltrate marginal groups. We can identify trouble makers and get them away from the people attending a performance. My people can wander the street and find muggers and rapists.
The Tidewater Dance Company in Norfolk had a problem. It was both a ballet company and a school for dance. They had a stalker who enjoyed scaring students. The stalker seemed to go after young girls. While the Norfolk police were on the scene, they had no success.
The Dance company got my name from their Richmond equivalent. Their Board Chair, Elizabeth DeVaux came to see me, with her Richmond friend, Margot Wiessman. Elizabeth explained the situation. Margot and I got along well, considering we didn't share a single characteristic. She came to me when there was a problem. I solved the problem and that was enough for her.
I asked if the Norfolk police had tried undercover operations. "Well the police have all the problems of an urban area. We are rather low on the totem pole for them. I can't disagree with that, but I have a feeling our situation may escalate," Elizabeth said.
"Nip it in the bud!" Margo interjected. "In this situation overkill is the best policy. If you have one assault your school is ruined."
"Could it be an inside job?" I asked.
"Unfortunately, yes. We have 500-600 students each semester, lots of part time employees and a slew of parents and volunteers. We do background checks on employees, but not on parents or volunteers," Elizabeth explained. "It is a security nightmare." We talked for a while and I agreed to take the job.
A week later I was the new man at the backdoor entrance of the ballet. Officially I was a part of a hire the handicapped effort. I had an operative at the loading dock, Buster; Tammy and Lance in the classes, and Linda in costumes. Buster was leather bear, but he might have been less macho than Linda. Linda was there to go where men usually couldn't go. The Norfolk police were on the street. They used old guys who looked like school crossing guards. They were retired cops who were not one bit easy going.
Most of the younger girls came with parents. The older girls came in groups of three or four. I quickly discovered there were some parents who had trouble being on time to pick up their kids. These weren't just five or ten minutes late, they were thirty minutes to an hour late. Some were no shows. These kids were the ones to watch. They sometime wanted to walk home, or go to a friend's house. They were the most vulnerable.
There was a second group of young know-it-alls who were too sophisticated to obey rules. I was old and ugly, so they wouldn't consider noticing me, not to mention do what I told them to do. They were my second group of vulnerable girls.
I had been there for a week when I heard a scream from the alley. I raced out in time to see a screaming girl, a man falling to the ground, and a second girl calling for help. In around the corner I heard Buster bellowing to stop.
I went to the man on the ground, he was a student's father and he was spurting blood from a bad wound. I was wearing a light jacket and turned it into a tourniquet. It didn't stop the bleeding, but it slowed it down. His daughter had called 911 immediately. She had a jacket too so I beefed up the impromptu bandage. There were two stab wounds. I applied pressure the worst one; she took care of the other one.
The police were there in minute or two. The ambulance and a hoard of EMTs in less than five minutes. I was covered in blood and the police were unsure of me, but the girl kept her wits and told them I was a rescuer not a perp. The EMTs quickly substituted real bandages for mine and took the man and his daughter to the hospital. Elizabeth DeVaux had been in the building and went with them.
Butch and Linda had chased the perp, but he had vanished. I hate losing my man, but not as much as Butch. He thought he had him in reach when he vanished. Linda had found a slip of paper with the notation AMY 1013. It was October 13, but the girl was named Susan. She gave it to the police. The police were everywhere, questioning and looking for evidence, until the mother of the other girl arrived. She screamed, fainted and put on a display of histrionics worthy of a tragic opera. The mother's hysteria spread to her daughter. I suspected the daughter didn't like being up-staged by her mother. There was no possibility of any further questioning.
A young patrolman was assigned to take me home. Harold was about 40, and this was his first real crime scene. I went to his car. It was new, and I could see him dreading getting the blood out of the upholstery. I had an apartment a half block away and said I would like to walk. He came with me.
I am no fool. While the girl said I was okay, the police wanted to make sure. Harold got my crutches which had been kicked out to the way and we walked home. He was carrying a big plastic evidence bag. I assumed the wanted to check my clothes for another man's blood. Harold was a neat man, and he took my clothes with rubber gloves. I took a shower. I assumed he was searching my apartment as I cleaned up. He made a few calls to the station. When I got out of the shower, he told me to get back in. I had missed a few spots.
When I finished showering a second time he was waiting for me. "You are Catfish?" he asked.
"Yep, that's me. I'm undercover," I said.
"A guy in Richmond described you as short, bearded, ugly, horse-hung and missing one leg," Harold said. "They know you well."
"What was the give-away?"
"Well, it would have been the missing leg if I hadn't seen you naked," Harold said. "What in hell do you do with that monster?"
"I use it for all the regular things," I said. "I take it you have taken a fancy to it?"
"I'm not really into that sort of thing," Harold said with no conviction. He was staring at my cock. My cock did what it usually does. It got hard
"You wouldn't tell anyone?" he whispered.
"I never kiss and tell," I said. A second later his lips was wrapped around my cock head. I am a good judge of sucking technique and I knew this wasn't his first time. I thought I would play it cool and let nature take its course, but my cock had other ideas. Harold didn't pull away when I began to shoot; he took every drop.
"Let's go to the bed," I suggested.
"I've never done it with a guy in a bed before," he whispered.
"Well, it's about time you learned some new skills," I replied. We went to my bed. He stripped and joined me. Harold was clean shaven and had a shaved head. His body was toned and hairy. almost shaggy, but since he was blond, it was hard to see. He had a nice, lollypop style cock with a large knob on a thin shaft. I sucked him for a while. He liked that a lot and told me that no one had done that for him before.
"You must be hanging out with the wrong guys," I said.
"I've not done much," he said, "Rest stops and parks mostly. It's scary but it turns me on."
"Well, I've done a lot, but I'm not scary, and I turn on some guys big time," I said.
"I am kind of uneasy about getting into it more," Harold said.
"It is a lot better when you are with a guy you like in a safe place," I said. "Let me give you some advice. If you are into guys, go with it. You can turn squirrely if you try to suppress it. If you are into big cocks, I'm the guy for you. Don't pass up a chance, you may not get another opportunity."
"What if it doesn't work out well? he asked.
"Knowing one way or the other it better than wondering what it would have been like," I said. Harold was rock hard and drooling precum. That was a good indicator that he was into it. I shifted over him, sucked him again and then sat on his tool. I felt like Little Miss Muffet sitting on a toadstool but when his knob rubbed my prostate all was well. It was good for me, but Harold was in heaven. He came quickly, and our interlude was over. He was polite, but dressed and left.
The next morning, I met with Elizabeth and the director of the school, Basil Monyfort. Basil was an unimpressive man who seemed to be clueless about the situation. He thought it was a prank, or perhaps a one-time-only act of random violence. It took me a while to figure out that he didn't want to deal with it and wanted it to go away.
I didn't point out the obvious, pranks do not involve stabbings. The school and the police had kept things quiet, but if it became public the school could be ruined. It told them about Amy 1013, and Elizabeth said she would look for a student with that name. I had decided to bring in my Village People squad. They were a group of three men and one woman who looked like street people and could hang around an area. Derelicts tend to fade into the urban scene. They can hear things and search places without being noticed.
Later that morning I talked with Butch and Linda. They had been chasing the guy. He turned a corner and vanished by the time they reached the corner. They thought he must have had a vehicle or a hide out. It was dusk and cloudy, so they felt we must have missed something.
I went to the hospital to talk with the father, Gordon Appleby. He was fine once they patched him up and replaced the missing blood. He could easily have died had we not stopped the bleeding. Gordon was a tall, pale software developer. He was in a fancy room at the hospital, the sort of room they reserve for men with big bucks. Cordon hadn't seen the man, but had smelled something. He couldn't recall what it was. It had happened in a second or two, and he was still a bit groggy.
His daughter, Anna was with him. She was 14, attractive and not prone to hysterics. She had seen the man from the rear, and thought he was tall, fat, but nimble. She thought he was wearing a dark, dress overcoat.
Anna explained that he father was a specialist in anti-virus detection and had a company. Her mother had died in an automobile accident and her father could do most of his work at home.
As we talked the police were checking all the closed-circuit cameras in the area. The school had discovered no Amy in attendance.
The next morning someone knocked on my door. I assumed it was one of my operatives. It was Basil, the school's director. "Can I speak with you?" he asked. I said sure. I was in a bath robe. Basil was wearing an expensive suit.
"I spoke to a friend of mine in Richmond, Billy Montague. He told me that if you were on the case it was real trouble," Basil said. "I had been treating it as a prank. Sometimes I think of the school as training grounds for drama queens. I assumed this was just the usual daily dose of hysteria. I told Billy about our meeting. He told me to talk with you and assure you that I am not a complete idiot. You know Billy. He can be frank when necessary."
I knew Billy as the foremost Chandelier Queen in Richmond. He was a successful real estate agent and noted for giving spectacular parties, and as a patron of the arts. He wasn't my type. but he was a nice guy under all the pretention. I told him that I just needed to know he took the situation seriously. He assured me he did.
"As you know discretion is important," he continued, "But, if there is any chance someone is about to be hurt, throw discretion out the window. I'm rich as shit. I can keep this place going for years with one dancer taking classes if necessary."
"You are that committed to ballet?" I asked.
"My mother was. She was one of those art enhances life people," he said. "I'm her only child, and kids are not in the cards for me. I might as well spend my money for her memory."
"You don't have any interests of your own?" I asked,
"I like to give parties, drink and fuck handsome young men," he said. "They are not the best objective in life, but in the grand scheme of things they are pretty cheap." He paused. "Billy told me you like to solve crimes and fuck older men." I nodded'
"I'm good looking and wealthy, how in hell do you get men to fuck?" he asked.
"It takes all sorts of people to make the world go round," I said.
"Ugly men and rough trade sometimes turn me on, but I have never had enough nerve to do anything," he said.
"I have the ugly part down solid, but I'm not rough," I said.
"Billy said you were hard to take."
I smiled. "I think he was talking about diameter, not my fucking technique," I said. "You need to be accommodating and up for a challenge. Pain turns me off. If it hurts, I'm not interested."
"The thought that a guy like you would shoot off in my ass gives me shivers," he said.
"You can't catch ugly," I said. I knew what Basil really wanted. "Are those good shivers or bad shivers?"
Basil looked at me. "I don't really know."
I had to get ready for work, so he left, and I dressed. Getting dressed was more complicated than it was when I had two legs. I had to plan. At home I had grab bars and carefully located furniture to help me hop around. Here I had to get my crutches into action.
At the school. My derelicts were on duty, and Butch was at the loading dock. Basil arrived late with a handsome, muscle-bound friend, Julio. He joined Butch at the loading dock.
The City police had gone through the camera footage. They had software that enhanced marginal cam footage. Harold was going through the hours of footage with a tech, when noticed a van. It took a while, but eventually they could make out the numbers 1016. AMY 1016 was a license plate.
That was the good news. A quick check indicated the van belonged to ACME Rentals. It was a locally owned firm that rented discounted equipment and vans, mostly to construction companies. That as useful information, but not as useful as it might have been.
ACME Rentals rented used vans and equipment. The were suspected of taking money under the table and not keeping records of rentals. The Norfolk police also thought they were used by smugglers, drug dealers and low-level crooks. The van was sighted a block from the stabbing. We didn't know the perp, but we knew he used ACME.
Harold also knew a detective who had a hobby of going after ACME. Johnny Bell was in the vice section and ACME vans were used for whore transport. That set off alarms for me. I knew that under aged girls demanded premium prices from some men as did S&M.
The next day one of my street people found a connection to the place where the van was photographed. The Tropicana Grill on the next block had a false front. The Grill had a 25-foot-wide front, but the interior was only 20 feet wide. To make the building look wider, the front screened off a narrow alley. A fake window that displayed the menus, was a door to the alley. The door was well disguised with thin bricks under the window and bricks hiding the steel frame. We now knew how the perp had escaped from Butch.
As I was leaving the school that evening, Basil came over to me. "Can I talk with you privately?" he asked.
"Sure, I'm on the way to my apartment, come along?" he joined me, but I had the impression he wasn't used to walking.
When we got to my apartment we talked. "I heard that the ACME rentals might be involved. I may know something about them," he said. "It is very confidential."
"I'm fine with confidential," I said.
"I have a friend who likes to help young men with their careers. I assume you know what I mean?" he asked. I said I knew the type.
"He does indeed help the men, but there is a lot of sex along the way. He likes saving men who I would describe as rough trade, rent boys and plain old prostitutes. I think it is a dangerous hobby, but his servants keep an eye on him. His most recent boy, Dustin, jokes about his pimp for what he called Hookers R Us. He said the offices were a van from ACME Rentals."
"Is Dustin still around?" I asked.
Basil nodded. "He is still with my friend and working on a nursing degree, he might be willing to talk. It is a delicate situation." I told him I understood. He made a call and then Basil's chauffeur picked us up.
A little later we were in a penthouse apartment. Dustin greeted us at door wearing a towel and a smile. Dustin knew his clientele. A little later Basil's friend, Tony, joined us dressed the same way. Dustin was smooth, Tony was a gorilla.
"You got here more quickly than I thought. I would hope we could play a little before we get down to business?" Tony said.
"I'm willing," Basil said. I said I wouldn't mind a little relaxation. A little later I was relieved to discover my cock still made friends. Basil was better looking naked and dressed. There was an inch or two more to Dustin than I had guessed. Tony was thick and uncut. Basil went for Dustin, Tony went for me. He went for my cock. I love size queens. All of them wanted to get up close and personal with my cock.
Dustin was a good-looking, gay boy from the country. His parents had been good Christians who made sure he avoided the wicked ways of girls. they kicked him our when they found him with a boy. He was poorly educated, but liked man sex. He found a job with a business called At Your Service. They claimed to specialized in wedding receptions, but they did smaller parties for more special clients. Dustin was a perpetual motion machine sexually and that paid well.
Tony took him under his wing. Tony enjoyed him sexually, but he also liked to watch Dustin as he frolicked with his other friends. Dustin always saved a late night orgasm for Tony. Tony wasn't exactly a virgin if the ease of which he took my cock is any indicator.
Dustin didn't much like my looks, but he saw my cock as an opportunity for on the job training. He was a bit tight, but I think he learned a lot more about his sexual desires that he expected when I pushed deep.
Basil liked them young, but my cock was too tempting to resist. I was too ugly to fuck him, but he desperately wanted to see if he could take my cock. I might look like a bad boy. I took my time and got every inch in him. I sucked Dustin as I fucked Basil. When Dustin shot off in my mouth, I rear loaded Basil. I could tell while he stiffened at my first ejaculation, his ass was thanking me for the sperm bath.
Technically fucking potential witnesses is poor policy. In this case it worked out well. Dustin became talkative while engaged in sex, very talkative.