Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg, dg]

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Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg, dg]

Postby Alice » Mon Jul 02, 2012 3:46 am

Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride
by Burke Rakers and Others

You’re a 15-year-old white guy living in an affluent suburb. You’re known around your school for being heavily racist and homophobic, and this makes you popular with others of your background. It’s also well-known that several groups of black and Latin kids are out for revenge against you, but nobody can be sure exactly what they’re planning.

It’s a cold winter morning. You’re walking to school and wearing your brand-new leather jacket and shoes which accent your blonde hair and blue eyes. You take the same route you always take, leaving your development and passing the ghetto of the town to get to your public high school. But today, you’re jumped from behind by attackers you can’t see. You wake up in a rundown apartment and see who attacked you for the first time ... but you know you’ve seen them before ... they’re ...

As your vision returns, you see a group of eight to ten young Mexicans surrounding you. You’re bound to a chair and your clothes are tossed in a corner across the room.

You begin to violently shake and toss around in your seat in a vain attempt to escape. Your attackers are very amused by this and speak rapidly in Spanish. You can’t understand a word of it (you took French), but it’s easily noticeable that they’ve got something nasty planned for you.

Soon, your suspicions are confirmed. The tallest, most built guy soon unzips his hugely baggy jeans and reveals his eight-inch rock-hard dick, which he thrusts into your mouth and screams at you to suck. Fearing the repercussions of refusal, you obey him, and within minutes he ejaculates in your mouth. You try to spit it back out, but his cock still occupies your mouth, so you have no choice but to swallow it. He withdraws from you, apparently appeased, and the group leaves the place, but not before drugging you back to unconsciousness.

You wake up the next morning, freezing, but as you make your way to the mirror, you notice that you are relatively unharmed. You are still naked and your clothes are nowhere in sight. You begin to look around the room for a way to escape. The door is probably locked, so you go over to the window. You discover that you are on the third floor of the building and there isn’t a fire escape. Out of frustration, you beat your fist against the window frame. You notice that your upper arm is sore. Checking your arm, you notice a small Band-Aid and a cottonball stuck to it. You peel them off and notice a small hole. Your heart begins to race as you wonder what they’ve injected into your body.

At that moment, the door opens and three of the Mexicans walk into the room. They are wearing jeans and white tank tops. One of them is the guy who raped your mouth earlier. You assume his is the leader of this gang.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” you demand.

He just grins at you and begins to rub his cock through his jeans. Your eyes are riveted to his hardening dick -- your mouth starts to go dry and you feel your own dick beginning to stand at attention. You look up into his deep, brown eyes and think to yourself how sexy his big muscles and dark skin look. You swallow nervously as he begins to smirk at you. Something’s wrong.

You don’t like guys, but your dick is standing at full attention and begging for release. As he begins to unzip his pants, images of sucking his fat Latin dick flood into your mind. He pulls out his cock and tells you to get on your knees. Somewhere in your head you know you should be trying to resist, but you drop to your knees eagerly. He turns to his friends and says something in Spanish that you can’t understand. They laugh and begin to rub their own crotches. He walks over to you and waves his dick in your face. Your nostrils take in his strong male scent and your eyes close. One of his big hands wraps around the back of your head and the other starts rubbing his uncut dick over your lips.

“Suck it, hoto. You’re my cockslave now!”

Once again, a part of your mind wants to resist, to tell this wetback to fuck himself. You open your mouth and he slides his dick into your throat. Both of his hands wrap around your head and he begins to thrust his cock in and out of your now-willing mouth. A groan escapes your throat as you savor his salty taste and the smell of his crotch. In the back of your head you panic as you realize ... they have somehow made you into a cocksucker!

One of the other Mexicans walks up behind you and kneels down so he can play with your ass. Instinctively, you begin to raise it so that he has better access. The three guys once again laugh. The leader takes his cock out of your mouth and then leads you over to a mattress in the corner. He pushes you down onto your back and then lifts your legs over your head. In your head, what’s left of your former straight-boy self begins to whimper, but when you open your mouth to beg them to stop, that isn’t what comes out.

“Fuck me!” you plead.

You feel the head of his blunt cock on your virgin butthole. He begins to push against your sphincter, trying to gain entrance. With a sudden forceful thrust, his spit-lubed prong slides into your tight ass, and you scream out in pain. As he slides into your ass up to his pubes, his friend kneels down over your face and sticks his brown dick into your mouth. You inhale deeply, getting off on the smell of his thick black pubic bush as your ass is pounded relentlessly by the Latin stud between your legs. All resistance is gone from your mind now.

The guy in your mouth is kneeling over your face, and you wrap your hands around his furry asscheeks and begin to rub his crack. This sends him over the edge, and his prick begins to spew thick wads of Latin jizz into your mouth. He pulls out up to his cockhead, letting you taste his cum. You watch his nuts contract as you hungrily swallow his load. Meanwhile, the leader buries himself up to his pubes in your ass and begins to empty his balls into you.

Once they both finish cumming, they take their cocks out of you, leaving you alone on the mattress. You notice the third guy is still fully clothed, though obviously aroused. He begins to walk over toward the bed ...

It is not one of the Mexican gang boys. He is also Mexican, but he is a portly old guy with white goatee and white hairs. You realize that you know this guy. You remember seeing him once.

Yes, he is that old guy you attacked months ago. You hit and humiliated this Mexican old man.

“Oh, boy. Glad to see you again.” The old Mexican smiles at you. “You assaulted me, remember? I didn’t forget that. And it’s payback time.”

The old man suddenly kisses on your lips. His tongue slides into your mouse, it just feels like a snake entering your throat. You are pinned to his tight embrace, and his saliva keeps oozing into your throat. In his embrace, you feel like your body is melting ... wait, it is melting! Your body melts and modifies into something ... ! The old man is snatching some elements from your body ... maybe the elements that make you a man! As the change keeps going on, you feel yourself becoming more and more feminine.

Minutes pass, and you realize the transformation is over now. You are totally exhausted, but manage to watch the mirror nearby. Oh, God, there is a girl looking at you. Glittering with hot sweat, your body shines with olive-colored smooth skin. And your new plump breasts and asscheeks are hanging from your plump body.

And you look at the Mexican, who is still holding your body tight. He is still that Mexican old man, but he looks rougher and stronger. His white goatee is thicker now, and you can see his white bushy hairs on all over his upper body, which is more broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with two thick, strong arms.

“You will come to my home country with me. We will live in a small Mexican village, as an old but strong farmer and his young hot wife. And living as my new wife for all your life, you will clean my house every day, and will give birth to my children every year. Think about it. Wouldn’t it be a lovely image?”

Taking off his clothes, the Mexican old man slowly crawls upon your naked flesh.

“What a big ass! You can bear many children as I want! Yes, my dear ... “

The Mexican old man’s face is now full of lust.

“ ... Let’s make our first child now!”

And so your new life begins. As punishment for a single insult, you will spend the rest of your life as an ignorant Mexican peasant woman!

He takes you across the border into Mexico and shows you your new home: a squat, rambling house of mud-brick alongside the road. As tourists enter from Texas, you can watch them drive past in their shiny, new cars and think, “That would have been my life.”

But that isn’t your life. Your husband tells you that he is 70 years old, and that he has had three wives already. You are wife number four. You are still only 15 years old, and you were sold to him by a poor family in another part of the state in exchange for 500 American dollars and a used tractor.

“So, you see, running back to them won’t help, as they’d just send you right back to me. And you’ll have no help from your real parents, as they’ll never recognize the ignorant peasant girl you are as their missing son.”

So you really had little choice but to adapt to the situation. You were instructed to keep the house clean, tend to the large garden, milk the goats and feed the chickens every day. Your husband left every morning and returned from his work at noon and dusk, when he expected to have lunch and dinner waiting on the table. You are surprised that you know how to cook traditional Mexican dishes.

“I gave you these skills,” your husband tells you when you ask him about it. “I removed knowledge that you didn’t need, and replaced it with things you did need.”

“What ... what did you take?”

He smiled and winked at you. “I took your ability to read English and do higher math. You also don’t know anything about American history or trivia. You can still speak some English -- how else would you sell peppers from our garden to the tourists who stop? -- but I replaced most of your English with Spanish. Also, you know how to cook, clean and work in the garden. And when our son is born, you’ll know just what to do.”

Then he stood and took you in his arms. “And now it’s time to work on that some more.”

You tremble, but do not resist as her carries you into the bedroom. For the last month, you’ve had sex with this terrible old man at least twice, and sometimes three times, a day. At first, you hated it, then you slowly grew used to his desires. Now ... you crave him just as much as he does you. He lowers you to the bed, undresses you (with your help), and takes you violently, cursing you as a dirty whore and a worthless slut all the while.

After he’s finished you lay next to him and run your hands through his thick, white chest hair. He’s so strong and handsome ...

The days flow together, and soon you feel yourself growing large with your babies. The doctor comes by and tells you that you have twins, and the old man beams with pride. The doctor tells you that your hips and vagina are perfect for childbirth, and that it was almost as if you were made for it.

The old man grins, and says, “Yes, she’s a fine girl. I fully expect to have many sons by her over the years. Many sons.”

The old man stops cursing at you during sex, and he becomes tender and loving. As your belly swells larger and larger, you find sex more uncomfortable, so like a good wife, you start to give your man blowjobs every night. It’s not fair that he should go without just because you can’t perform.

Then the day comes, and you finally give birth. It’s a home delivery, and after twelve painful hours, you push two beautiful, healthy boys into the world. The midwife hands them to you and you weep for joy at the sight of them. Your wonderful husband kisses them both on the forehead, then you on the cheek.

“Happy birthday.”

“What?” you ask. You don’t understand.

“I said ‘happy birthday’, my love. It’s been almost a year since you ... came into my possession. Today, you’ve turned 16.”

Suddenly a flood of memories pours in. You were a boy! You were an American! You should be finishing with high school and getting ready for college!

He leaves, and you lift your new babies up to your huge breasts. They both batten down and start to suckle, chasing away thoughts of your old life for a moment. Then slowly the memories of your old life and family begin to crowd back in.

Your father. Your mother. Your sister. Even all your friends.

You stand and waddle towards the mirror. You see a short, fat Mexican girl with two newborn infants sucking at her massive breasts. Over the months you were pregnant you gained a lot of weight, going from a plump and round 140 pounds to a very fat ...

You see a scale and you step on it. The midwife told you that your babies were both eight pounds each ... so ...

You weigh 262 pounds!

All that fat on such a small girl gives you a very round, almost comical appearance. Thighs, hips, belly, breasts ... everything is thick and soft with new blubber!

Then you look down at your babies and start to calm down. That boy’s life is over. There’s no reason to even think about it. He’s gone forever.

But you can’t stop thinking about it. You still act the part of the old man’s wife -- particularly in bed. He’s right when he calls you a slut. Sex is very important to you now. And you take pride in keeping your house clean. But, as time passes, you find your old personality returning.

The problem is ... you can’t remember your name!

Your new name is Juanita Padraza. Your husband is Gomez Padraza. Your little boys are Juan and Carlos. But what was your old name?

* * * * * * *

I’ve been a sort of part-time detective for close to 10 years now, and I’ve never accepted such a case as this one today.

The woman came into my office (my single-wide trailer), sobbing about her missing son and rambled on about some Mexican mobsters, one in particular to watch out for.

I took some notes as she filled out my standard disclaimer form, and then was handed an envelope containing money and a picture of a Mexican girl.

“Find my son!” she said, and pointed to the young woman’s picture.

Though she didn’t go into detail, I assumed her son must have turned transvestite and gone to Mexico. The most puzzling thing to me was how good-looking he was in the picture ... almost impossible to believe he’s really a guy.

I packed and left late that night, heading for the border across a long strip of desert on a road that seemed to go on forever.

It was daylight when I passed through the checkpoint and entered Mexico.

I made sure to be generous, giving cash to some locals to watch my car while I scoured the small town for leads.

My three years of Spanish I seemed to be paying off, but I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere real fast, and the day was now into the afternoon hours.

It seemed hopeless until along she came, through the crowd ... it was in the Marketplace that I saw her.

Or at least I thought it was her. The photo was an instant snapshot of a naked Latina girl of 15 or 16, with thick black hair and dark, expressive eyes. She glared up into the camera, and it was plain to see that she’d been scared ... but also that she was defiant. It was those same eyes that he saw right now, though it wasn’t easy to recognize the rest of the girl.

She was clothed for one, but more than that ... she was fat. She waddled along with a baby held tenderly in each arm -- tiny heads resting atop her massive bosom. Her hair was up in a matronly bun, and she wore well-made, though very plain-looking, clothes ... much like the rest of the local girls. A white blouse and dark skirt seemed to accentuate her size.

“Hurry, Juanita! We won’t be in town for long, and I have much to do. Wait at the cafe while I attend to my business. You mind me, girl.”

The man who spoke was old (at least 70), yet ruggedly handsome, and built like a man half his age. He was dressed in a white shirt, tan slacks and brown cowboy boots.

He was also known to me. He was one “Gomez Padraza”, an obscure Mexican gangster who had many contacts in the Latino underworld of Texas. I’d heard him mentioned as possibly connected with the boy’s disappearance, but I’d hoped against it. The enemies of Gomez Padraza had a habit of vanishing.

I watched as the large, bulky young lady waddled towards an eatery called “Herrera’s”, and took a pair of seats. I followed quietly, sliding into the seat behind her.

She undid the front of her blouse and exposed her breasts while raising her infants up to her nipples. They began to suckle at once, and the girl looked at them with love, then out over the public square. Her look changed to one of unhappy resignation, and she blinked back tears.

“Oh, madre! Oh, padre! Has it been a year since I’ve seen you?” She sobbed as she wiped her eyes with a napkin. “I just wish I could tell you ... “

“Excuse me?” I said in English.

Juanita turned and looked at the man who’d just spoken. He was obviously an American tourist, but now that she’d been robbed of her ability to speak or understand English, she lacked the ability to communicate with him.

She smiled politely and said, “No hablo English, señor.”

I frowned at that. Was I wrong about her? I’d have sworn that this girl was the apparently transgendered boy I’d been sent to find.

I tried again in Spanish, “I’m looking for a missing American boy. He’d be a little over 16 now. He’d had an encounter with a gang of rough Texan Latinos, and all my tracking has led me to this village. When he was last seen ... he looked like this.”

The effect of his words on the girl was obvious. She’d first looked stunned and surprised, then she’d taken the photo from him and nodded eagerly, saying in Spanish “Si! Si! This is me! This is the photo they took right after they did this to me! How did you find me? How did you get this?”

“You mean that this is you?”

The girl swallowed, then nodded. I’d heard of things like this. Gomez Padraza must be some kind of a pervert -- taking a healthy boy and using what I could only guess was surgery and drugs to transform him into a wet nurse.

I didn’t know then that all this had been the work of Gomez Padraza himself. I couldn’t know that this elderly gangster had some kind of powers to alter both a person’s body and mind.

I looked around and saw no one looking at us. I stood and said over my shoulder, “I’m going to my car. Follow me and look as casual as possible. Get into the back seat ... then get down.”

“What about my babies?”

“Aren’t they his kids?”

“Yes. They are his, just as I am his. I am his wife.”

I blanched at that. The old bastard had warped this kid, then forced him to become his wife! I could only assume that the poor kid had been brainwashed into believing that he’d actually given birth to those two infants.

“Then bring your kids along, but hurry.”

I stood and walked to my car, slipping another ten-dollar bill to the fellow who’d been watching it for me. Then I slid behind the wheel and pulled up until I was alongside “Juanita”.

I pulled up next to Juanita and motioned for her to get into the back seat.

“Hurry, this is your last chance!” I said.

She looked around, then slid into the back.

I took off with my foot to the floor, screeching tires and leaving a dust cloud trailing behind me.

We got about a mile out of town heading for the border when she got up and leaned over the front seat to look around.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Si.”

I nodded back even though I could tell she was not all right. She had the look, that which a small, hunted animal might have when there’s no hope of escape.

“Everything will be okay,” I assured her and reached to touch her cheek.

The very second I touched her a wave of emotion filled lust swept over me. I instantly got an erection, and could think of nothing else but getting into the back seat and making love to her.

She must have noticed my change of expression, or known that this would happen, so she quickly moved away, lying back down on the seat.

The feeling was so intense and hard to fight that I stopped and got out of the car.

I walked over to a large bush and pretended to take a leak, not realizing I was standing on an anthill.

Ten minutes went by before my erection finally went down and my senses returned to normal. The feeling of half a dozen stings on my legs helped contribute to my returning to normal.

I took a deep breath and decided that the urges that had filled me (after touching the poor girl/boy) had been the result of being too tired and too excited at the same time. After all, this “woman” was actually a 16-year-old boy! He’d been altered in some way I didn’t understand (though I suspected a mixture of surgery and drugs) into this fat little peasant woman ...

Granted ... she was very cute. Gomez Padraza had gotten his money’s worth with the boy. Her body -- though very fat -- was also very lush and inviting. Her breasts were huge, and the two good looks at them that he’d gotten had shown him that they were beautifully shaped and delightfully bouncy.

Her belly, butt and thighs were all well-rounded and soft. Her dark hair was a thick, tumbling mass now that her bun had come undone.

She saw me looking at her in the mirror, and she said in Spanish “You think I’m attractive.”

I blushed “Well ... yes. I know you’re really a young boy ... but I have to say that you’re still very desirable.”

She smiled and looked pained. “That’s just part of his spell. He made me so big and fat so that I’d be embarrassed to even think of going home ... but he also enchanted me so that any gringo who touched me would want to ... keep touching me. And the farther we get from the village ... the more you’ll want to touch me.”

“Magic doesn’t exist,” I said emphatically. “The only power Gomez has over you is the power you give him.”

She smiled, as if she was listening to a child telling her stories, then she said “I gave birth to these babies just three weeks ago. I was born a Yankee gringo, but the powers of Gomez Padraza made me a girl ... then a mother. You may not believe in magic, but I’ve had too much experience with it to ever disbelieve.”

I felt bad for the kid. The poor girl ... I mean guy ... had really fallen for all this magic stuff. He must have been brainwashed to believe that he’d given birth to those kids.

Speaking of which, those kids would be a problem. Maybe more than Juanita, Gomez would be coming after his sons. Perhaps I should try and return them to him? I’d have to wait ‘til later, though. Because with Juanita thinking they were also “hers”, I’d have a heck of a time getting them from ...

A sudden boom followed by a lurch told me that we’d just lost a tire. Juanita screamed and clutched her babies tightly to her bosom and I slowed the car and pulled over.

The tire was shredded.

“It ... must have been something we hit.”

Juanita began to cry, and she shook her head. “It was the powers of Gomez Padraza! He’ll never let me go! He’ll haunt me forever! Why oh why did I ever leave? Now you’ll be in trouble as well ... and if I ever do get home, then my family will suffer at his hands! Leave me here, my brave protector. I’ll wait for him to come for me.”

I was touched by her concern, but I knew an ordinary blowout when I saw one. “It’ll be fine, kid. There’s a town within walking distance -- a little place called Castronegro -- and we can get a car there. We’re within 20 miles of the Texas border right now. We’ll have you home very soon.”

She sniffed back her tears, then nodded. It was plain that she wanted to be told that everything was going to be all right. The poor girl wanted ... no, needed ... my help. All her old male swagger and pride had been replaced with a girlish need to be protected. Whatever they’d done to this boy, it had been just as much mental as it was physical.

I reached to take her hand, and she drew back.

“Oh, right ... “ I quipped. “If I touch you, then I’ll want to fuck you again. Wasn’t that the spell Gomez put you under?”

“Do not make fun, señor. The powers of Gomez Padraza are very great.”

I sighed, then stepped back and let her exit the car herself. We walked the half-mile to the town of Castronegro, and I worked out a cover story for us. I was a tourist returning from Mexico, and she was the girl I’d accidently married while drunk. I’d decided to do the honest thing and take her back home with me.

“If it were true, it would be very honorable, señor. I am glad that my new husband is such a gentleman.”

I looked at her and saw she was grinning. We both laughed, and I thought once again just how beautiful she was. She had the natural glow of a madonna, and her every movement was both motherly and affectionate.

I suddenly realized that I wanted her. I didn’t care that she was actually a boy, I wanted her!

Taking a deep breath, I walked towards a gas station, and after exchanging some money and a few words of Spanish I convinced the guy to go down the road and get my car. If all went well, we’d be back on the road by morning.

Then we went to a local hotel and signed in as “John and Juanita Smith” (these Mexicans don’t know one gringo name from another) before taking our room.

She changed the babies’ diapers and I got an American station on the television. She waddled towards the bed and watched the television with me for a while, before saying with a sigh, “I don’t know what they’re saying. Gomez took all my English and replaced it with Spanish.”

“That’s not possible.”

“You will learn the truth of Gomez Padraza’s powers eventually.” she said, before stripping to her bra and panties and crawling into bed.

I looked at her again ... and once again, I felt pure lust fill my heart. I tried not to do it ... but I undressed as well ... and slid into bed beside her.

She looked surprised at first ... but she smiled and said, sadly, “You can’t resist his magic. I understand ... but I warn you ... this isn’t the only spell I’m under.”

I couldn’t control myself. I removed her bra and panties as tenderly as I could, and every time I touched her skin I felt a little electric shock of pleasure.

She spread her legs and hefted her belly -- “This is a guy!“ my mind wailed, helplessly. “He’s only 16! This is wrong on so many levels!“ -- as I lowered myself into her. We both gasped, then smiled. Why had we resisted? It was so natural. She was such a pretty little chicana now, and she obviously wanted me as much as I wanted her.

We made love several times; each time we did, we both came with a gush and a cry. She was made for me, and I for her. We never should have resisted. We were perfect for each other.

The next morning, I woke to the surprise that I was tied to the bed and stark naked!

Juanita had tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts, and was now standing next to the bed smiling down at me.

She kept smiling and said in Spanish, “Mr. Padraza is on his way to see you.” I made out most of what she said, at least enough to know it wasn’t good.

Then she put her hand on my stomach, and said “Don’t worry, it will be good, and you will bear many babies.”

That time I understood it all and went into a panic, pulling at my restraints and begging her to untie me.

“No, you will see -- it will be better this way,” she said, and turned to look out the window for Mr. Padraza’s arrival.

I had managed to loosen one of the ties on my left wrist, but was having difficulty getting it the rest of the way off when I heard the sound of a car driving up the dirt road just outside.

“But ... you said you missed your family!”

She smiled at that. “A girl often misses her family, señor. I still miss them ... in the way you miss something you know you’ll never see again. My husband is my life now, señor. I am Juanita Padraza ... now and forever.”

The girl scooped her babies up and plugged them into her bosom again. They suckled noisily, and she laughed. “My sons are hungry,” she said with pride.

The door opened and the old gangster entered the room, a smile on his face. Juanita waddled to him and they kissed long and hard. I blanched at the look he gave me. It seemed to say, “I know you, sir. I’m not happy with your actions.”

Gomez Padraza walked to my bed with Juanita at his side. She looked happy and content, obviously delighted to have her big, strong husband at her side. I could see nothing in her eyes that even suggested that the boy she’d once been was still there. All I saw was a fat, simple-minded peasant girl.

“I must thank you for finishing my spell for me, señor. I needed a gringo to drag out the last vestiges of her old personality before I could destroy it. The girl you see is now and forever Juanita Padraza. Isn’t that right, Juanita?”

He asked this last in Spanish and she giggled and nodded. “Si, my wonderful husband. I can tell that that nasty Yankee boy has finally been chased off. His memories are ... going ... gone. He’s gone.”

She giggled stupidly, and hugged her husband. It was plain that her old personality was gone.

Gomez kissed her again. She giggled, then waddled away and stood respectfully behind him like a good, submissive wife should.

Then Gomez turned to me ... and his smile became cruel.

“As I said, I owe you ... and now I should show you my gratitude.”

He took my hand ... and a terrible burning shot through my flesh. I gasped and felt my body ... shifting and flowing like water. I could feel everything, as my bones shifted and my flesh warped.

“No ... stop ... ,” I groaned, then passed out.

When I woke ...

I wasn’t sure at first if I was dreaming or not, since everything felt, smelled and seemed different.

It was early morning, the light just coming up as I peered into the mirror and witnessed what I had become.

There in the mirror looking back at me, wearing my clothes rather loosely in some places and tight in others, was a roughly 16-year-old Hispanic girl.

I cringed at the thought of what was and what might be to come as I tried to fashion my clothing to possibly hide the fact I was female. Doing this might aid in getting back through the border and home where I could find help.

Using a piece of rope, I tied my pants so that they stayed on this smaller body, but wearing a shirt was a whole other issue. Though the rest of this female body was rather slim, Gomez had cursed me with what I considered a huge pair of breasts. Actually size D, but on this small body and given the fact I have never had such things as this, they seemed huge and out of proportion to me. They filled out my white undershirt, stretching it to its limits. Large areolas and jutting hard nipples showed clearly through the white cotton shirt, so I wore my dress shirt tied loosely at my abdomen, to draw attention away from my chest.

To my surprise, my car was still outside, and I still had the keys ... but I was cautious in my departure, as I expected an ambush somewhere between there and the border.

I drove away, heading back to the border and hopefully home.

I made it within view of the Mexican border station which I had passed through originally to get here, and stopped the car. I remembered the two men there and realized it probably would be difficult if not impossible to get through, now that I didn’t look like an American ... and even worse, a girl!

“And just where do you think you’re going, little chica?”

Looking as I did, I’d known that I didn’t have a realistic chance of slipping through without question. It wasn’t just my body (which seemed slightly malnourished ... despite the wildly disproportionate size of my breasts and width of my hips), it had also been the lush thickness of my hair and the beauty of my face.

Well ... perhaps not “beauty”, as it were. I was sort of cute, with very kissable lips, a natural beauty mark just above my upper lip and sharp cheekbones, counterbalanced by a slightly overlarge nose and smallish eyes that seemed naturally heavy-lidded ... as if I were sleepy ... or dumb.

No ... not “beauty”. I guess I just looked too girlish to convince anyone that I was a guy ... let alone some Yankee gringo detective.

“I’m jus’ tryin’ t’ geet back to Texas, señor,” I said in my new accent. Thank goodness I still spoke English, even if I did now sound shockingly uneducated. There was something very “street” about the way I now pronounced words ... and I still sounded rather Mexican.

Si,” the other guard said. “But it looks like you’re doing so in a stolen car.”

I went all wide-eyed and innocent as I gasped, “Aw, no, señors. Dis ees my car.”

“Uh-huh. What’s your name, chica?”

“Maria Garcia,” I answered without pausing. It sounded common enough, sort of the Mexican equivalent of Jane Smith.

“And this is your car?”

“Si, señors.”

He smiled at his partner (did they exchange winks?), then looked me straight in the eyes.

“You’re a very bad liar, Maria Garcia ... if that is your real name. If I let you past this checkpoint, you’ll likely wind up in an American jail with a grand theft auto charge that’ll get you sent straight back to Mexico ... and a Mexican jail.”

I started to get worried, then drew three one-hundred dollar bills from my wallet. I looked at the money ... and suddenly didn’t want to part with it. As long as I was trapped in this form, I’d have no access to my bank account, my trailer ... anything. I needed to keep a tight grip on my finances.

I couldn’t afford to bribe them ... not with money.

It felt perfectly natural to unbutton the top of my shirt, then tie the lower half beneath my breasts to make a crude halter top.

I leaned out the window and rested my heavy breasts on the door.

“Oh, señors ... surely their ees sometheen’ I could do to ... convince you?”

I smiled up at them with my vapid whore’s face open yet as empty as a promise.

They smiled at each other, then stepped back from my car. One said, “Pull over to the side of the road, Miss Garcia. I’ll have to take you inside ... for an inspection.”

I gave them another smile, then winked in such a naturally sleazy way that I didn’t even notice I’d done it. I stepped from the car and followed him into the little building, to a small room with a bed.

I turned to look at them, and all at once, I realized they were taking off their clothes. For a moment, I was stunned (most of my brain hadn’t really believed I’d go through with this), then I smiled ... and removed my own clothes. Finally I stood naked before them, and asked “So ... now what do we do, señors? How you want eet? You like eet dirty? You like nasty girls like me?”

The words that I spoke tumbled from my mouth so naturally that I was almost unaware of them. Guys liked it when you talked dirty to them. It made them feel superior.

The bigger of the two smiled and took his cock in his hands. “Jus’ come over here and suck my dick, you little puta!”

I strolled over to him, naturally rolling my hips and wiggling my butt. I sank to my knees, and took his cock into my mouth while his partner bent my ass up and slipped his penis into my butt.

And all at once ... it slipped into place. My brain seemed to shut down and pure instinct took over.

I tickled the head with my tongue first, making him shudder. Then he grabbed the back of my head and forced me down ... hard! His partner began to pump violently, and soon I could feel the last vestiges of my resistance floating away.

I sucked him so hard I thought I’d suck it right off. Over and over, I worked his dick, until he finally moaned and came, filling my mouth with his warm, salty spunk. As soon as he came, his partner did likewise, filling my ass with warmth.

Then they swapped me end for end ... and started again.

Again and again, we came. Each time I thought we were done, they two men would stick their dicks someplace else and I’d feel the need to start over again. When we were finished, all my new holes ached, and I was splattered with come from head to foot. I lay on the bed, gasping for air. I’d never felt so used or so dirty ... I’d never felt so satisfied or content.

I looked up at the two men, who grinned down at me with lewd smiles. “You’re sure one horny little puta. You ever think of doing this professionally?”

I hobbled into the bathroom while the two men laughed at me, feeling that they knew something I didn’t. Surely they didn’t work for Gomez Padraza.

I went to the sink and used a wet towel to wipe the come off my skin. As I cleaned around my mouth, I remembered how I’d been hungry before stopping ... and realized that I wasn’t hungry anymore, because now, my belly was literally full of come.

Full of come!

I tried to stand, but my legs went weak and I sank to the ground. I’d just fucked two greasy Mexican border guards about a dozen times! Worse than that ... I’d liked it.

No ... I’d loved it! The salty, thick taste of the semen on my lips was the most delicious thing I’d ever known. I loved sucking cock. For some reason, I knew that’s what this talented tongue and big mouth of mine was for.

Gradually, I calmed down, wondering how I’d ever get out of this mess. Should I go back to Texas? I’d been intending to only because that’s where I came from. But what would I do once I got there?

“Maria?”

“Si, señor?”

“We’ve ... got something for you.”

Did they sound amused? I cleaned up and opened the door. They were standing there with a box on the floor between them. They were both smiling.

“I’m afraid we’ve lost your clothes, chica. This is from our lost-and-found box. We thought you might be able to find something inside that could fit you.”

Twenty minutes later, I minced out of the rest room, dressed in clothes that actually fit me. A faded, pink halter top decorated with red roses; a pair of black stretch pants that clung to my new curves; strappy, pink sandals with three-inch heels.

I looked cheap. I looked natural.

It didn’t help that the box had contained a little black purse that bulged with garish make-up. I took it eagerly, painting my lips a bright, shiny red. Heavy foundation, dark blush, blue eye shadow, and tons of mascara. I darkened my beauty mark to finish the look.

I looked like a whore.

And yet ... I also looked real good. It was nice how the tiny top made my big tits look even bigger. And the pants showed off my big hips and ass. I looked pretty hot.

I shook my head (causing the big, hoop earrings I’d found to jangle loudly) and looked again. Once again ... I looked perfectly natural.

“Damn you, Gomez Padraza,” I hissed.

I searched the box again, hoping to find something useful.

A package of filterless, Mexican cigarettes.

I was suddenly filled with a desire for them (though I’d never smoked a day in my life) and I searched for a lighter. Finding one, I slipped the cigarette between my big lips, lit the cigarette, and drew in my first double-lungful of smoke.

It ... was ... heaven.

I smiled and puffed contentedly for a while, lost in the pleasures of the pungent tobacco. It was wonderful how it seemed to take all my problems away.

I strutted from the rest room and shook my tits for the men (what were their names?) before slinking out to my car and sliding behind the wheel. Once in a familiar place, I could think clearly again.

I drove off, wondering what I could do to get back to normal. I found that while I was smoking, I could focus on my prospects more clearly.

I could go to Gomez Padraza and beg him. That would get me nowhere fast.

I could return home and start my life again.

Or ... perhaps I should focus on Padraza’s gang? Perhaps he’s not the only one who knows magic? Surely they didn’t call him to Texas to transform that poor boy. Someone in his gang in Texas must have similar powers!

Meanwhile, one of the guards was on the phone. “Si, Don Padraza. That girl you tell us about, we just let her pass. Si, we did as you asked. Si, we give her the clothes you want us to give her.”

As I drove down the lone road, leaving Mexico behind me, an odd homesickness welled up inside me. Even though I had never lived in Mexico, leaving it left me feeling alone ... yet I was happy to be in the States again.

Soon, I came to a small intersection. On one corner stood a lone building. Neon lights flashed from the windows, and the huge sign over the door of the building drew my attention. It read, “Papito’s Tattoos, Piercings, and Nails”. Suddenly, I felt myself lose control as I swung my car into the small parking lot.

I walked into the store. It was dark, lit only by strings of lights along the low wood ceiling. The store was divided into three distinct parts. The first was a tattoo parlor with a large lounge chair and tattoo pens and ink. The second was a piercing table with line of rings for every body part. Lastly was a manicure table with nail polish and nail care stuff.

The only worker there was a large bullish Mexican. His head had been shaved, showing his well-shaped dark head. His body was large for a Mexican and imposing to my small female form. He spoke in a broken English, thick with his Mexican accent. “What do you want?”

“No’ting, señor.” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“You wasted my time, puta; now pay for it.”

My no-longer-virgin lips leapt willingly, as he dropped his pants and unleashed his manhood. He forced me out of my halter top and fondled my large breasts. My moans of pleasure were muffled by his manhood in my mouth. Then I felt a sharp blow to the back of my head and went out cold.

When I finally woke, it was dark: the lights had been shut off and the sun had gone down. I must have been out for a couple of hours.

There was no sign of the man, or the store supplies I had noticed earlier. There was a throbbing in my head where the man had hit me with something. But that was not the only place that hurt. The back of my neck and right shoulder hurt, as well as my right nostril and above my left breast. As I stood and grabbed my halter top that had been disregarded on the floor, I saw myself in a mirror and did a double take.

Staring back at me was the same slutty Hispanic girl with skin-tight pants, strappy shoes, and too much makeup ... but now I had some additions to my body.

The pain across my left breast was the result of a red rose tattoo that now marred my otherwise olive-skinned breast. Glancing over my shoulder, I was able to see part of the black snake tattoo that weaved across my right shoulder and up my neck. The pain in my right nostril came from a small diamond stud that now protruded from the side of my nose.

Instinctively, I reached up to feel the new stud in my nose, and noticed that my fingers now sported ridiculously long acrylic nails that matched my halter top. It was evident by their length that with these long nails I would be inconvenienced when trying to pick up or hold anything.

I slipped the halter top (which did nothing to hide my new tattoos), and instinctively fixed my makeup. Finally, I pulled out and lit one of the cigarettes, and walked outside.

My car was gone. The parking lot was empty. But attached to the pole was a note:

Hola, Señora,

You didn’t think that your punishment was complete, eh? Oh, no. I will make sure that you are dragged so far from what you were that no one will believe you. Enjoy your sexy body and slutty impulses!

Sincerely,

Gomez Padraza

“Dang it,” I shouted, and took a deep drag from my cigarette. How could this happen? Now I’m trapped looking like a Hispanic hooker in the middle of nowhere, without a car.

Maria Garcia (no, wait ... that wasn’t her ... his real name! He had to ... she had to remember what her real name was ... ) strutted and wiggled down the road in her high heels, her big butt and sumptuous hips swinging like a streetwalker on the make. She walked so naturally ... with such slutty grace and sensuousness ... that she didn’t notice anything wrong. It just felt so ... right to walk like this, with chest thrust out and boobs bouncing.

But she knew something was wrong. She was a man! She had to get back to her employer and tell her about how she’d ... no, he’d found her son. Found her living as the wife of a Mexican sorcerer named “Gomez Padraza”, and having no desire to return to her old life. That sorcerer had captured him ... and turned him into a (hot, sexy chica!) female. The boy’s mother had to help her!

She puffed one cigarette down to the filter, then flicked it away into the dark and lit another. It was so natural.

“That ... mierda!” she cussed, as she strutted down the road, unaware she was sliding from English into sing-song Spanish even in private now. “Cara de mierda! Hijo de la gran puta! I show you, Gomez Padraza! I show you! I gonna get back to th’ States, an’ then I gonna get even wit’ you!”

Then she heard a vehicle approaching from behind. She turned and saw the distant headlights in the dark, and she hoped it was a man. She cocked her hips, thrust out her chest and stuck out her thumb, giving her best smile as she did. With luck, she could get a lift to a town and from there ...

She was in Texas now. If she could reach the boy’s mother, she’d be able to convince her of her true identity. The woman seemed to understand that magic existed. Perhaps she could change her back?

The vehicle drew closer. Maria Garcia (what was her real name?) smiled hopefully ... and waited.

The vehicle turned out to be a van jammed with college boys returning from vacation. Loud, obnoxious college boys. Obviously drunk and oversexed.

Her thighs began to quiver, and her cunt began to leak juices. She wanted them to take her. To fuck her in every hole all night long, and treat her like the dirty whore she was.

“Well, hello honey! What’s a hot little number like you doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”

Maria had to play these boys. She needed them. She needed them so badly.

“Hey, ju boys in da mood for some fun? I wass goin’ ta th’ States wi’ my boyfrien’, but dat tonto idiota an’ me had a fight, an’ he toss me out. Kin I get a lift fum ju guys? Ju all so big an’ strong ... “

As you’d expect, they gave her a lift. And soon ... she was doing what her body wanted her to do. Cock after cock pounded in and out of her. Over and over again they went at her, and she loved it. Loved it with every fiber of her being. Soon enough she was sleeping on the floor in the back of the van. Her cunt, butt, nipples and mouth had all been well used, but she didn’t mind. The boys had beer and pot, and she’d gotten a solid buzz on. Best of all, they weren’t really such bad guys. They’d given her some money, and after all the fuckings some of them had just talked with her. It was nice to hear American voices ... even if they had no respect for her. In fact ... that seemed to make it all better. She was a dirty, Mexican whore now. She didn’t deserve respect ...

Somewhere inside her ... she was screaming.
Alice
 

Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby Burke_Rakers » Tue Jul 03, 2012 2:07 am

Wow! I remember this!

It's from the CYOC (Choose Your Own Change) site, and over the years I've popped in now and again to see if anyone added something good to that last post. This was a really fun and entertaining thread, that got very dirty very quickly. I always liked the idea of an American man becoming a sleazy Mexican whore...and not being able to help him/her self. ;>)

You know...if someone were to go to CYOC and add to that post...I'd be willing to continue it...
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby Matt L. » Wed Jul 04, 2012 2:29 am

Burke, Although I'm not a TG fan, anything you write is simply amazing.
Cheers, Matt
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby omphalos » Tue Aug 14, 2012 7:20 am

Hey Burke love this story. Could you provide a link to the original on CYOC so I could perhaps continue it. Thanks.
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby Burke_Rakers » Tue Aug 14, 2012 8:52 am

omphalos wrote:Hey Burke love this story. Could you provide a link to the original on CYOC so I could perhaps continue it. Thanks.


Certanly. I've always wanted to continue this one, but I try not to add to my own posts.

http://www.cyoc.net/stories/stories_cac ... 41894.html
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby omphalos » Tue Oct 09, 2012 7:59 am

So I finally got around to reading the story on CYOC in it's entirety. I must say that it was a treat. Also, I kinda like the way it ended. I can't seem to find a way to continue that would be better than what's already there. What are your thoughts Burke?
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby Burke_Rakers » Thu Oct 25, 2012 3:30 am

omphalos wrote:So I finally got around to reading the story on CYOC in it's entirety. I must say that it was a treat. Also, I kinda like the way it ended. I can't seem to find a way to continue that would be better than what's already there. What are your thoughts Burke?


I had several ideas, but the CYOC site seems to be more for Animal TFs and Male-on-male stuff these days, so I don't often post there anymore. I had a few ideas about how the closer to the boys parents he gets (he's trying to finish his mission) the more he'd change. I wasn't sure which path to follow. If she should become a skanky Mexican whore, sexy Latina maid or big, fat and jolly housekeeper. I was also considering that his presence would cause changes in the boys family as well.
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby Alice » Thu Oct 25, 2012 4:12 am

Oh, lordy, Burke, PLEASE write that. Even if it's not on CYOC, write it here! That sounds incredible. (Also, my own vote would be to continue the Mexican whore transformation -- or, failing that, to gradually become the big, jolly housekeeper.)
Alice
 

Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby kylekatarn77 » Thu Oct 25, 2012 12:01 pm

My vote is naughty lowly latina maid stereotype first, skanky whore second!
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Re: Maria Garcia Hitches a Ride, by Burke Rakers/Others [tg,

Postby mercury01 » Thu Oct 25, 2012 3:53 pm

Alice wrote:Oh, lordy, Burke, PLEASE write that. Even if it's not on CYOC, write it here! That sounds incredible. (Also, my own vote would be to continue the Mexican whore transformation -- or, failing that, to gradually become the big, jolly housekeeper.)


Why couldn't she be both? A fat, jolly housekeeper that loves to whore herself out to her employers for extra cash.
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