Fortune's Fate

Freely Adapted and Expanded by Cameron Nelson

From a Previously Published Short Story

(Used With Permission of the Author)

Chapter One

Sometimes events occur that bring us back to a sense of the real – a sense of what life is really like…or about…or, at least, supposed to be about. Such an event happened to me during a business trip to Denver six months ago. It was a trip I had made many, many times in the past, and it had become almost routine. Yet there were portends everywhere…only I chose to ignore them.

During the taxi ride from the new Denver International Airport, I had a most bizarre and unsettling feeling. It was like I had never been to Denver before and that everything was new and strange to me. This was particularly weird because I had been to Denver many times; in fact, I had lived here for two years in the not so distant past. I never liked living here; I found the city too parochial for my tastes. Then, the only topic worth talking about concerned the Broncos. It was a glorious day when my company transferred me to Seattle.

The one thing I did like about Denver, though, was Kindred Kal. Kal was a local procurer; he could get anyone for any taste, no matter how simple or how bizarre. I availed myself of Kal’s services many times. As a previously active bisexual, Kal would never know exactly what I would want or need. But based on questions about how I felt or what I had eaten for dinner, he invariably managed to provide the perfect partner – or partners, as the case may be.

Yet, this strange, unnerving and unknown feeling persisted. As the car approached the hotel, an overpowering feeling of dread washed over me and I had this peculiar sensation of foreboding – something momentous or sinister (or both) would happen to me during my stay.

As soon as I was settled into my room at the old Brown Palace Hotel, I called Kal. We chatted for a few minutes, catching up on current things, talking about old times. Then he began the questioning session. He inferred from my answers that I wanted something a little out of the ordinary for tonight, something a bit bizarre, something kinky with just the slightest hint of S&M. I cannot tolerate too much S&M; as a severe claustrophobe, I detested and feared being tied up or blindfolded or restrained in any way.

“Ah got jess the right gah fer yer,” he drawled. “Look fer ‘im at 8:30. ‘e’ll be theyuh.” I knew that Kal’s people were always prompt and was looking forward to his (or her) arrival.

Now I had a couple of unfilled hours before the visit and decided to get some dinner. I found a nearby pub. It was one of those new brewpub-type of operations, where they brew their own beer on the premises and serve lots of grazing foods. It was made to look very old, whereas it was built only within the last year.

I was seated at a table for two near the bar in the smoking section; the place was really hopping. The music was loud and the guys were a treat to watch. It was just the time that the offices let out and these poor bastards must have had a particularly difficult day. A few caught my eye and if I didn’t already have plans for the evening I would have followed up on my instincts. My waitress came over with a menu and a glass of water. I ordered a pint of one of their specialty ales.

The menu was enormous; it had to be at least twelve pages. It was one of those menus that supplied detailed descriptions of each dish served, written in the most flowery language imaginable. I was scrutinizing it very closely trying to figure it all out. When I put it down, I immediately noticed that someone had been seated at the table adjacent to and straight ahead of mine. We were facing each other and his appearance absolutely floored me!

How do I describe this vision and do him justice? Granted the place was not brightly lit, but he shone like a meteor on a dark night. His very long, very blonde hair gleamed like it had a million kilowatt klieg trained on it. His face was well tanned; it looked like it had been chiseled by a great old master using the finest of marbles. He had very small ears and he kept moving his long hair behind them to keep it from flopping in his face. His nose looked like it had been broken once or twice but still looked wonderful and so very manly.

I was smitten; I mean his total appearance was just so goddamned right and so incredibly overwhelming! He seemed to have incredibly piercing blue eyes and his eyelashes and brows were also quite blonde. He also wore a very blonde mustache and short, blonde, attractive goatee. I normally don’t like mustaches and goatees on blonde men – it makes them look like they have a badly swollen upper lip and chin. But on this guy it looked great! His chest was what I’d call massive - very wide and very muscular. The tight gray pocket tee shirt he was wearing looked to be straining beyond its manufacturing specifications.

We looked at each other; I smiled at him and he seemed to smile back. I couldn’t be sure given the dim lighting and the smoke in the room. I lifted my beer in a sort of toast and drank. He returned the toast. I was thrilled at his response. I worked up my courage and gestured for him to move over to my table, signaling the empty chair opposite me. He shook his head and tapped his watch; I assumed he meant that he had an appointment. I shrugged my shoulders and went back to trying to decipher the menu.

When I had made my choices and lifted my eyes again to get the attention of the waitress, to my absolute amazement and delight, he was seated opposite me at my table. The place was so noisy that I hadn’t heard when he sat down. I stared into those incredible blue eyes for what seemed like minutes. Finally he smiled and lifted his arm to shake hands. It was a good, masculine handshake, strong but not overpowering. Judging from his massive build I knew that he could crush my hand without thinking twice.

We introduced ourselves; my blonde angel’s name was Cary. I was feeling myself getting very, very hot for Cary. I know I was perspiring heavily; I don’t think it was the beer.

We ordered another round of drinks (Cary drank only sparkling water) and an assortment of appetizers. We drank and ate very sparingly and we seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. I know for sure that I was totally captivated by this gorgeous guy.

Cary told me that he was currently unmarried and was a furniture designer for a large company here in Denver. However, as he spoke and I became more and more accustomed to his beauty and physical appearance, I thought I noticed something odd about how he was seated. He appeared to be wearing straps across his chest. In addition, he was sitting rather low – his chair seemed to be lower than mine. “What’s going on here?” I wondered.

After a few more minutes (minutes I thoroughly enjoyed absorbing Cary’s every feature) I asked about his strange sitting position and the strap. “Cary, I hope I’m not being offensive or anything, but you’re wearing straps across your chest and sitting lower than I am. What gives?”

He looked down at his hands and seemed to be embarrassed. “Well, to be honest, the straps are allowing me to sit upright…in my wheelchair.” I hadn’t noticed that he was crippled and in a wheelchair. “I lost both my legs a few years ago in a bad construction accident. I have no stumps; both legs were amputated at the hip – actually even a little higher, to tell the truth. I also lost part of my pelvis. So sitting is rather difficult for me. The straps are holding my body upright.” He looked down at the tabletop. “Sorry if it gets you upset.”

“No, no! It doesn’t upset me at all, Cary. It’s just that I thought you were going to slide under the table…and that I’d lose you.” We both laughed; I continued to look at his beautiful face and torso, trying to absorb all of his good looks for future reference. “The man is an amputee…hmmmm…” I thought.

We spoke of many things including football (Cary was a big Broncos fan, of course), cars, our businesses and the declining quality of beer in the USA.

I gathered up my courage and asked Cary if he’d care to join me up in my hotel room. Just to continue our conversation, of course. The pub was filling up and I felt guilty about occupying a table when we were doing almost nothing but talking. It was getting close to 7 PM and I knew there were only ninety minutes before my Kindred Kal appointment would be joining me. Cary checked his watch and agreed. He pushed himself away from the table. I followed as he wheeled out of the pub.

Once outside, I got my first really good look at Cary’s body and the details of his beautiful face. He had big, muscular arms, an enormous torso that tapered down beautifully to a very slim waist. But below his waist and buttocks there was nothing – absolutely nothing. His jeans were tightly tailored and fitted around what was left of his body. And his face was as beautiful, maybe even more beautiful, than it had seemed inside the pub. To my surprise, I found myself getting severely aroused at the sight of this beautiful man with a cruelly crippled body.

I smiled at him as he wheeled and I walked to the hotel. His wheelchair was a blue tubular affair, a very new model – sleek and quite beautiful. It had no armrests and a low back. Cary had a backpack slung over the rear.

Once in the room I opened a couple of bottles of pop and sat on the sofa; Cary positioned his chair opposite me. He looked marvelous in the subdued lighting of the room. A large piece of what I took to be foamed rubber was situated at the front of the chair; I assumed this was to prevent him from sliding forward.

“You said you weren’t married, right?” Cary asked.

“Right! I was married for a short while but…well, it just didn’t work out. You know, especially after the accident.” He looked at me with slightly closed eye. He stroked his goatee.

“Are you gay?” he asked in a low and, what I took to be, a very sexy voice.

“Yes I am.” I am not shy about naming my sexuality. “I once thought I was bi, but now I definitely know I’m gay. Are you?”

“I like to say I’m bisexual. I enjoy both men and women…although right now it’s definitely men much more than women.”

“Isn’t it rather difficult…er…you know, difficult having sex without legs.”

“It’s even more difficult than you’d imagine. Want to find out?”

I was stunned by his forthright proposal, but I was most definitely ready. “Yes, I would. I certainly would.”

Cary wheeled himself to the bed and began to undo the straps holding him in his chair. He locked the chair, raised his body using his powerful arms and hopped onto the bed. Again using those brawny arms he moved to the center of the bed. He slowly and rather teasingly removed his top and laid back, his head resting on the pillows. He was wearing only those cut off, sewn up jeans; they looked absolutely fitted to his body.

How do I describe what I saw before me? How do I relate what I felt when I saw Cary’s near naked body? I must honestly admit that it was a strange mixture of lust and aversion. It was exciting and yet so unbelievably strange. It was like having something or someone who was not real in my bed. It was only half a person – not a complete man. Yet, I found Cary to be so virile and amazingly desirable. His long blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders and onto his chest; it also splayed out on the pillows behind his head. His arms and chest were quite hairy – more beautiful blonde hair. It looked so soft, comfortable and luxurious. All of Cary’s body seemed to be marvelously tanned and toned.

I removed my shirt and undershirt, and dropped my slacks. Wearing only navy blue bikini briefs, I joined Cary on the bed. I had never been in bed with an amputee before and I must admit it was a little strange. I was quite used to rubbing my legs against my partners legs, beginning the act of physical contact. But with Cary, this was not possible. It definitely felt strange and more than a little disconcerting.

I moved one of my hands and began to rub his beautifully hairy chest. I was thrilled at the feel of his tight and incredibly large, well-defined muscles. They were so amazingly hard and felt marvelous under my prodding fingers. Yet his hair was so incredibly soft - as was his skin. I delighted in the feel of my hands playing across that magnificent broad chest. I felt my breathing becoming faster and faster as I continued. I most certainly felt myself getting aroused again – highly aroused. “Maybe I can make love to a legless man after all,” I told myself. “With a man as beautiful as Cary, this will not be too difficult!”

Suddenly I knew I wanted to kiss Cary. I knew I had to. I moved my face closer to his and he moved his head slightly forward, inviting my lips to his. He closed his eyes and I kissed him. The softness of those lips was amazing. It was gratifying and passionate. I moved my hand to the back of his head, threading my fingers slowly through his thick, long hair. It felt marvelous – so soft and lush. I held him tightly. My tongue moved into his waiting mouth and I rejoiced at the warmth and feel and taste of this man. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and the feeling was electric. We continued to kiss and I never stopped enjoying the wonderful feeling of contentment and joy emanating from our joining.

I began to tweak his beautiful small nipples and Cary let out a little yip. It was the most endearing sound I’d heard in a long time. It was such a childlike sound and seemed so strange coming from such a large man – such a hunk. I continued to pinch them slowly and let the palm of one hand play over those erect nubs. Cary’s nipples looked so very cute and appealing on his large, powerful pecs. I slowly lowered my lips until they were just barely touching the surface of one of his nipples, and brushed it lightly. Again Cary let out another little yip and I was thrilled that I was able to get this response from him.

I continued rubbing my lips on his nubby nipple and moved one of my hands down his body; of course, there wasn’t very much to his body. I played my hand over his incredibly hard stomach and rubbed his arms. Those enormous biceps drove me crazy – I adore a man with such highly developed muscles. And Cary had more than enough for my need. I rubbed his hip area and pelvic bone. As he had said, he had absolutely no leg stumps and his body just ended with hips and buttocks. I let my hands gently play over these areas; I was rubbing his jeans but I knew I wanted to feel his skin beneath. He began to breath more and more heavily, as did I.

I was very anxious to see all of Cary. I began to undo his belt. He quickly put his hand over mine.

“Before you do that, just don’t be too shocked at what you find. Okay?”

“Sure, Cary. I’ll be gentle…and understanding. All right with you?”

“Sure is. Thanks. I appreciate your…you know, acceptance.”

I sat up on my haunches at the base of Cary’s body and slowly unbuttoned his jeans. I undid the belt and moved the zipper down slowly. They came off easily.

Cary was wearing a white string bikini. The pouch looked almost empty…it wasn’t nearly filled…it was so pitifully small and almost completely flat “What the hell is going on here?” I thought. I was tremendously disappointed that he had not become aroused by our lovemaking. His breathing, the moaning, the movements of his body all indicated that he was highly aroused. Yet nothing showed in his briefs! I was so incredibly stimulated that my cock ached inside my underwear. That is, I was aroused until I saw that Cary wasn’t!

I was tempted to call a halt to our short-lived session. He must have realized that something was amiss because he ran one of his hands through my hair; I looked up at his stunning face again. He spoke slowly and softly. “Please don’t be disappointed with me. This is the way I am. I’m sorry. I know you’re upset, but please…give me a chance…to please you…”

“You are pleasing me, Cary; believe that. I really like you and your body…I just want to make you feel good.”

He smiled up at me and I thought I detected tears in his eyes.

I looked at his body again. “Okay, maybe it takes him a long while to become aroused,” I speculated.

I looked at him. The scars where his legs had been removed were very large and rather jagged. I questioned whether I should touch these areas or not; they made Cary seem so vulnerable.

Cary apparently realized my indecision. “You may touch me any place you want. I have no problem…no problem at all.” I nodded my understanding.

I slowly and hesitantly moved my hands to stroke each side of his body, around the areas of his amputations. When I touched him, I loved the feel of his skin and the warmth being emitted by this flesh. It didn’t feel like scar tissue or incisions but had a silky quality to it and was so smooth and rich feeling on my hands. I massaged these areas and also let my hands wander onto Cary’s tight and very muscular ass cheeks. I squeezed them repeatedly and Cary began to whimper and moan softly.

I was in a dreamlike state when I spoke. “I love the feel of your body, Cary.”

My eyes were closed but I heard him choke back a sob. “I really appreciate you saying that. It gets me very hot when people are not turned off by my body and…and touch me and care for me…like…like I’m normal.”

I leaned over and kissed his abdomen and the flesh showing above his briefs. I kneaded these areas very gently and realized that Cary did not have any hair on this part of his body. In fact, I didn’t notice any hair in his crotch area at all. For such a very hairy person, I found this a little odd.

“May I?” I asked as I slipped my fingers into the string near the snap of his briefs.

“Yes, but…but please believe me when I say that I am so…happy to be here with you tonight. You really seem caring…and I’ll do anything…absolutely anything to make you happy. Do you understand?”

“Cary, you’re making me happy right now. So please don’t worry. Okay?”

He nodded as I gently undid the snap. The briefs fell away quickly.

To say that I was shaken and stunned by what I saw would be a terrible understatement. I was absolutely horrified. I sat back and just stared at Cary, looking from his face to his crotch and then back again. I must have had the most exceptionally grotesque expression on my face because Cary was staring at me. His eyes were wide with fear and panic. I saw them begin to fill with tears; and then he began to sob lightly.

After looking at his crotch again, I knew that poor Cary must have been a prime candidate for rejection and ridicule. Cary sacrificed more than his legs in that accident. It also, apparently, cost him his sex equipment – his genitals were completely gone.

When I looked closely at what he had for a penis, I was appalled and sickened. It was only about an inch and a half long – and it wasn’t a penis at all. It was more like a short tube of flesh with a hole in the end. And the hole seemed to be nothing more than a piece of plastic tubing; it protruded slightly passed the end of this repulsive tube. There was no head, no real shaft…nothing, just that hideous roundish thing of flesh. And, to make matters even worse, and to gross me out even more, Cary did not have the slightest vestiges of a scrotum or testicles. There was nothing but scarred flesh all around and under this really grotesque cock.

Cary spoke in a soft, anguished voice, full of emotion. “The accident…the accident took much more than…than my legs. As you can see. Much more.”

“What are you doing with this freak in your bed?” my brain seemed to be screaming! “Oh my God!” I moved quickly away from Cary and sat at the edge of the bed near the foot; I was facing away from him. I held my head in my hands. I felt guilty for rejecting him so completely and guilty about the fact that I had even asked him to my room. I was now the most recent person to reject him. But what could I do? I realized that I had made a huge mistake and didn’t know how to get out of it without embarrassing both of us. I found him to be hideous. I could not stand to look at his repulsive body and his completely nullified body.

A wave of nausea swept through my body. I put my hand to my mouth, swallowed hard a few times and began to take deep breaths. I suddenly felt Cary’s hand touching me. I flinched as he contacted my flesh; I didn’t know if it was revulsion or surprise. He was deliberately and soothingly rubbing the hairy back of his hand slowly up and down my arm.

I turned my head slowly and faced him. He was smiling even though he still seemed to be crying. “I’m sorry I put you through this,” he said in a very soft, small voice. “I should have told you before we came to the room.” He swallowed hard and made a gulping sound. “But I found you so attractive…so compellingly attractive, that I…I thought we might, you know, just might, be able…be able to, you know, to do something together. I was drawn to you by your…your sympathetic behavior and your genuine gentleness. I guess I was wrong. I made a mistake. I’m so…so sorry.”

I quickly ran to the bathroom and vomited. It had been so long since I had felt this sick to my stomach that the sensation was horrendous. I continued to puke, eventually ending with the dry heaves. When it finally subsided, I just stood there and looked at myself in the mirror. What a terrible sight I presented. After cleaning out the sink, I washed my face, rinses out my mouth, took a few sips of water and went back into the room.

Cary was seated in his chair and was just finishing getting dressed. We looked at each other and I gave him an “I’m so sorry” smile. He gave me a small nod and a wan smile back. I continued looking at him closely until he finally averted my gaze. I guess I was feeling plenty of remorse. But, what the fuck? What could I feel? The man was a hideous cripple – what could I be thinking?

I had never seen a man so badly mutilated as this poor soul. And I had seen a few. I had a short-term lover who had only one testicle – the result of an accident as a teen. And I remember a playmate I had as a kid who actually lost his penis – I never found out how. But Cary – I had never seen or heard about anything so drastic and complete. And then that terrible reproduction of a penis – what the fuck was it made out of?

Despite my extreme reaction I found that I wanted, and truly needed, to absorb every detail of Cary’s beautiful face and his extraordinary body. Why? I had just hurled because I had found him so repulsive. Hadn’t I? Why was I still staring at him and trying to indelibly burn his image into my brain? True, he was exceptionally attractive and so beautiful – that luxurious blonde hair tumbling over his shoulders, that superb chest, those incredibly muscular arms, and his deep blue eyes, so sorrowful, so tragic, yet so winning. What did I really want from poor Cary? I truly did not know…I didn’t know. I was totally baffled. I had done everything but physically throw the poor man from my room; yet, I found myself still irresistibly drawn to him – as I had first been in the pub.

He was staring at the floor. He began to speak. It was in a halting, half-choked voice. “As you’ve already seen, I’m not even a man.” He gasped for breath. “I’m a thing…a miserable, pathetic thing…a thing th-that…that needs hormones to even pretend he’s a man.” He let out a choked sob that sounded like it came right from his soul. It was like a red-hot knife being plunged into my heart. I dropped my head to my chest and shuddered. “Let me finish up here and I’ll be out quick.”

He went into the bathroom. I could hear him pissing – pissing through that plastic tube. I sat on the sofa. I was scarcely breathing – everything was so deathly still and every sound seemed to echo. I heard a squeak from the wheelchair and looked to see Cary back in the room. He said a quick good-bye and left. I did not respond. I did not even have the decency to respond! Even the sound of the door slamming did not break me out of my trance. Still I sat. I had not said one single word since seeing Cary completely naked. I had not uttered one sound.

I looked at my watch; it was 8:17. My arranged visit from Kal’s person was set to begin in a few minutes. Shit! I was feeling so wrung out and so depressed after my staggering experience, and my unbelievably cruel and crude behavior toward Cary. I knew I wanted – or need – to be alone tonight. I did not want any more company.

The telephone rang and I quickly answered it. It was Kal. His person had suddenly cancelled and it would take about an hour to have someone else come over. I was so relieved to hear this that I thanked him and told him not to bother. I flopped on the bed and buried my face in the pillows. They smelled so strongly of Cary and so strangely tantalizingly of him. I began humping one of the pillows and came in my shorts before falling asleep.

To Be Continued…

[Please write and let me know your honest opinion(s) of this story. I’m at camnelson91@yahoo.com – I promise to answer all e-mails]