Page 11 of Any Which Way

U ntil the moment mere seconds ago when my name was announced over the impressively crisp sound system, I truly didn’t know if I would have the courage to step out onto the stage at Glittering Vices with an audience packed full of familiar faces.

Sure, I had done some relatively impressive things in my short life.

For example, finding two women I wanted to spend my life with while fostering other relationships that could potentially continue to develop romantically wasn’t something that had been on my radar when it happened.

Neither had been developing and selling my first app, starting a company that continued to flourish after five years, or serving as a member of the board of our local chamber of commerce.

And it had been one thing to dance in front of a few people.

Ryan and her incredible lessons and staff truly seeming to transform everyone into a more confident version of themselves over the course of the weeks we worked together.

I even became accustomed to seeing the version of myself reflected back at me from the large, mirrored wall in the practice classrooms above the main floor of the club.

A softer, more vulnerable man who wanted so much to care and provide for those he loved just as much as he yearned to let go of the responsibilities and headspace that kept him busy more hours than he cared to admit.

I owed my performance to that version of myself.

I owed my performance to Brynn and Eleri, too.

Of course, it had been Eleri who initially formed the plan to approach me about the class, but once I decided I was in, both Brynn and Eleri were involved almost every step of the way.

Brynn spent late nights after my classes at Glittering Vices helping me perfect moves, her time dancing helping me to look more polished than I ever thought possible.

Eleri and I listened to hours of music, both while together and apart, finding the perfect score to bring my final performance to life.

The only detail I managed to keep hidden from the pair was the final piece of my costume. The final piece of my transformation .

And now, as I stand center stage, the opening notes echoing into the otherwise quiet venue, I only wish I could see their faces in the audience, that I could see both of their accepting, loving auras as I face the fear of stage fright the likes of which I have never felt before.

But the bright lights are near blinding. It’s only me and the music.

Actually, maybe not being able to see anyone in the audience is for the best.

Waiting for my count as the music starts, I hesitate for less than a second before coming to life alongside the music.

The jacket I wear is inky black as dark the deepest parts of the sea with gold brocade detail painstakingly sewn on top.

I look more the part of a ballroom dancer ready to take on a powerful paso doble with high-waisted black pants and a tight-fitting shirt than a man about to shed his inhibitions to his lovers, his teacher, fellow students, and half the town.

It’s as intentional as the dance moves I start with, wanting to fully lean into the sensual and emotional side of my performance.

I use the stage to my advantage, parading around with deliberate, sharp movements that match the pizzicato string music from the live band.

My body tells the story of my day-to-day life—the way I’ve always felt tied to my work, my commitments, and my desire to hold control in the aspects of my identity that somehow always come back to the ways in which I still feel inadequate.

Nearing stage right, I encounter an oversized prop chosen specifically for my performance.

A gold, gilded cage more ornate than anything created to hold actual birds.

And as I enter into its confines, the closure snapping shut behind me, I smile to myself at the irony, knowing my dick is locked in chastity beneath the layers of my costume.

It wasn’t something I had planned on wearing underneath my dance clothes, but I’d found the longer I explored the dynamics of chastity and staying locked away, the heightened my other senses became.

And tonight, knowing one of my partners sat in the audience with the key on a delicate chain around her neck made me feel closer to both Eleri and Brynn while the stage continued to separate us.

Throughout the venue, the music of the orchestra changes as the spotlight carefully trained on me turns red.

With the help of a quick release harness of Cypher’s design, the bolero-like jacket is ripped from my body, disappearing from view of the audience while leaving me in the black pants and shirt.

It’s still me, still my story. Only now, through the moves I orchestrate, it’s more languid and fluid. The dance of a person going through the motions of everyday life while still hiding pieces of the man they’ve always needed to be.

I incorporate moves Ryan has guided us in learning over the last few weeks, staying aware of the confines of the prop I’m moving within.

My body grinds and gyrates against the walls of the cage, reminiscent of the way my hips greedily thrusted in Eleri’s palm earlier this morning prior to being locked away.

Trying to jump to life at the memory, my cock throbs beneath its cage, and I’m reminded that if I ever plan on coming again without a miserable, ruined orgasm, I first have to make it through the rest of this performance.

As if knowing I need to continue before I inadvertently burst or forget what the fuck I’m doing on stage, the music shifts again.

And I know this is the moment I have been most afraid of since the idea of this performance started to take shape in my mind just over two short months ago.

Pairs of hands reach into the cage from multiple directions, their owners masked under the darkness of the rest of the stage and their near solid-black clothing.

They belong to other performers of Glittering Vices—students of the body liberation workshops I’ve been taking, of Ryan’s ongoing classes, even one or two members of the staff.

Together, the collective group tears at my carefully constructed shirt and pants, shredding them away small pieces of fabric at a time until I stand in my final nude bodysuit, chest heaving, music silent, in what looks to be a tattered heap of my former self.

The spotlight dims as if the performance is about to end, but the orchestra picks up softly, the red light shifting upward as white feathers begin to fall from the domed ceiling of the cage.

I watch as if in awe. As if these feathers falling from Heaven are beckoning me to break free of my cage.

Truthfully, it’s not all an act.

Because I am in awe of the fact that this is my life.

That through all my fuck ups and shortcomings, through my near disastrous youth and constant fear of failing others, I’ve truly found my place among my two lovers who not only accept me any which way I choose to be, but truly continually push me to be the best version of myself.

Slowly, the cage door that once kept me prisoner lowers as the feathers continue to fall. The light, still tinted red, continues to brighten.

I step out of the cage, one foot slowly followed by the other, strutting across the stage with newfound confidence until I stand in the center, facing the audience head on in what appears to be nothing but a second skin.

And when the light quickly shifts from red, transforming into a bright, white spotlight, tiny pieces of sheer, reflective fabric shine the light back out across the audience like a funhouse mirror full of endless twists and turns.

It’s evocative of the dichotomy that runs through me each day.

The harsh mirror-like shards that cover my body over the delicate layer of mesh.

Only with a little luck and gentle prodding from the people I love and those I’ve come to call my friends do I finally feel like the two sides can be at peace with one another.

For the first time since I took the stage, I can see the eyes of the audience.

Ryan stands near the back of the club, her arms wrapped protectively around a beautiful blonde, both women with huge smiles on their faces. But it isn’t them I’m searching for.

Continuing to look with haste, I find Brynn and Eleri at a small table closest to the front of the stage. I laugh to myself, knowing it’s the first place I should have looked, Brynn always wanting to be up close to the action.

Of course, she has noticeable tears in her eyes.

Brynn’s emotion and joy plays across her face as she mouths, “ I love you ”.

Eleri, ever the more stoic of the two, gives a small, approving nod that means just as much as Brynn’s outward emotion.

The pair are holding hands across the table, simply staring at me in awe as the rest of the audience applauds and cheers.

Somehow, despite the commotion all around and a stage still separating us, it’s as if we’re the only three souls on Earth.

Still, while I’m eager to make my way to the dressing room and return to my street clothes so I can join them to take in the rest of the evening’s performances while soaking in the afterglow of my own, I’m even more excited for when we finally get to go home later tonight.

And not just because I’m as desperate to get out of the cage constricting my cock as I was to get out of the cage holding me back on the Glittering Vices stage a few short moments ago.

Though, I mean, that’s absolutely a consideration, too.