Secondary Education

Secondary Education

Tyla Flowers

TylaFlowers@gmail.com

Chapter 6

Night on the Town

I sit in the back seat of a speeding, SUV, wedged between two Mara soldiers. Jose's corpse lies under a bloody blanket behind us, his face obliterated by the pointblank blast from Antoine's shotgun. Hector drives the Escalade up and down Jefferson Boulevard, the uneasy border between the Crip and Mara fiefdoms, speeding past its many shuttered used furniture stores, but slowing as he passes its bright lit liquor stores.

"How many fucking black Suburbans have I seen tonight? Chica, are you sure you didn't see the plate?"

"No, I was down on the ground, facing the wrong way. It has tinted windows and silver spinners."

"Just like every other ghetto buggy."

The Mara soldier next on my right, a skinny, sharp faced kid named Crazy 8, slams Jose's blood-smeared Glock against his thigh. "Let's just go fuck up the first mayate that we see, Boss." Crazy 8's cast left eye twitches hideously. I wonder how can aim a pistol with his eyes staring off in separate directions.

My companion on the left, the one they call the Pineapple, punches the back seat. "C'mon, boss, we got to make a statement." Pineapple's acne pitted skin oozes oily sweat. He smells sour. I wonder if it's the sweat or his black, crooked teeth. I am claustrophobic, frightened, and angry. It was Hector's decision to put me on the street, and Jose's decision to pull a gun a car load of black guys. Yet I feel like Hector is blaming me. I don't want to witness a random drive by revenge killing, and risk getting killed myself in the cross fire. I need to escape, and the combination of adrenaline, speed and Viagra is driving me crazy with tension.

"I want to help, but we can't look all over LA for one car. Can't I just go back to work?"

Hector pounds steering wheel, and the car hits a bump and veers into the other lane. He swings it back just in time to miss an oncoming Toyota.

"Shut up, you're all pissing me off. I need to think." We drive on in silence. Hector slows each time he passes a pedestrian, but none of them resemble the tall, athletic, light-skinned black man that I have described. We pass a couple of black kids wearing oversized, silver and black hang down sweat pants."

"What about those two homies?" Crazy 8 raises his gun.

"No, not them." The kids sprint away into an alley.

"I can pick him out at school next year."

"We can't wait until next year."

"He plays on the football team. Won't they start practicing soon?"

"Hey, Chica, that's a pretty good idea."

"Can I get out of the car? This driving around is making me feel sick. I'd rather go out and work some more."

"I need all of my soldiers on the job, so I can't spare anybody to pimp you. Chica."

"I'll be OK. Just take me to Hollywood. I can work there on my own."

Hector turns north on La Brea. The neighborhood gradually improves, and north of Wilshire the street is lined with gaudily lit restaurants and bars filled with wealthy whites and Asians. How I wish I could be part of that life, to live and dress like the celebrities. But I am a poor kid. My mom is a junky, my dad is a criminal, and my friends are all gangsters. I think about Mr. Knudsen, about going back to school. Is it still possible?

"Hey Pineapple, what's the name of that trannie bar on Santa Monica?"

Pineapple shrugs. I answer. "It's called Peanuts, but I don't have I.D."

Hector curses under his breath. "Crazy 8, you take the Chica down to 6th and Alvarado tomorrow, get her a girly, eighteen year old I.D."

"Sure boss. For tonight, ladyboy can work near a greasy spoon around Fuller, called Yukon. There are sometimes trannies out on that block of Santa Monica, especially on Friday nights."

"OK, here is Santa Monica, which way?"

"Left turn, then about a mile."

We drive through the gay revelry of West Hollywood on a warm weekend night. Guys walk arm in arm, groping one another's tight-jeaned butts. The lights glitter and beckon, but the Mara jeer contempt for the faggots as we drive by.

Trans are completely different from gays. The boys on the street are cute and well dressed, but they don't interest me, and I would not interest them. I prefer my companions in the Escalade, even though they are a bunch murderous low lifers who treat me like a sexual commodity, At least I feel sexy attraction for them. I want them to want me. I love their bad boy antics, as long as they fall short of physical violence. I liked being their sex toy. It makes me feel wanted and girly.

But now I wonder if they see the difference or just view me as a dressed up faggot rather than a special kind of girl. I don't like being their street meat. Working nights on the stroll is dangerous and makes me feel like they only let me join so they could sell me on the street. I want to be their concubine, not some streetwalker. I want to be a beautiful and sexy woman, not a worn out street whore like the one on my block.

When they call me a ladyboy, I know that they are doing it to ridicule me. But I accept that, and being gang fucked my ass this afternoon, because I thought they saw me as a girl. As I hear them hurl insults at the "fudge-pounding faggots" we drive by I wonder if they will ever let me be a real part of the Mara. To fuck me, a maricone, makes them feel manly. But a guy who is fucked by other men is despised. They think I am like those guys. They are men even though they fuck me, but because I let them fuck me, I am a faggot, just as bad as the gay boys of Santa Monica Boulevard. So they treat me like product to be sold like dope on the streets.

"What did you to get Jose killed?"

"It just happened. It's not my fault."

I had backed away because I was afraid Antoine and the Freeze had identified me. But that was part of my secret. If I told Hector about Antoine he'd surely blame me. Even without knowing my secret, he blames me for his friend's death.

"Fucking stupid T Cunt. You got to earn back from your ass pussy what we lost when Jose died."

"It wasn't my fault. Jose drew his gun. The black guy had a shotgun."

"Why didn't you just get in with them? If you had just let them fuck you, Jose wouldn't be dead."

"They didn't look like good business."

"Then tell them to fuck off."

"I was backing away from them. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Jose's dead, and you're alive. You got to pay the price now, chica."

I can't say what I think or what I know. Jose didn't need to point the gun. That's why Antoine killed him. What was Antoine supposed to do? Jose got himself killed with his macho and stupidity. And I get blamed, and might get killed myself, as a consequence.

Mara exacts a deadly tribute from its members, in blood from Jose, in sexual servitude and undeserved punishment from me. I need get away from the Mara.

We stop at the corner of Santa Monica and Fuller and Crazy 8 makes me climb over him to get out of the car and smacks my ass as a farewell.

"Get out and sell that nice tight butt, chica."

"Ouch, that hurt. Could I have a little money to get a cup of coffee?"

"No, you go out and earn it, and make us some money tonight, chica. We need to pay to bury Jose, and buy a lot of bullets if we are going to kill all of the mayate."

They waggle their fingers in gang symbols as they speed away into the flow of traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard. As they leave, I wonder how many people will die tonight. I wonder if through my bad luck and Jose's blunder, Hector will realize his fantasy of brown on black ethnic war and cleansing.

I peer in the windows of Yukon. It's a twenty four hour breakfast place, harshly lit, furnished with stained linoleum and Naugehide booths. It's nearly empty, just a couple of old men nursing cold coffee and pushing the crusty remains of their meals around their plates. I can see the clock in the above the door to the kitchen. It's a little before midnight. The Santa Ana winds have abated, and I'm getting cold and hungry. I scan the parking lot of the Trader Joe's next door. There are a handful of cars. Through their darkened windows I see silhouettes. I begin a prowl.

The speed is still powering me, and the Viagra is taking hold. My long dormant cock and estrogen suppressed male libido are awakening. My nerves jangle with unaccustomed sensations and desires. I crave action, the slap of flesh on flesh, to obliterate from my consciousness the horrors of the night. My ass is recovering from the afternoon's trauma and tingles with sensation. My cock is rock hard in my thong. It brushes the fabric with every click of my heals on the pavement, and sends shivers of pleasure through me.

My heart pounds, my nose is stuffed, and I am dizzy. I lean against the against the fender of a Ford pick up to catch my breath. My eyes are dazzled with auroras of blue light. I rub them away, through the windshield I make out a dim shape in the driver's seat. Then I am bathed in its headlights. I cover, and then uncover my eyes. The driver's window is rolling down. I step out of the glare to see who is watching me, but my eyes are blinded momentarily.

"You're new here, aren't you."

"You could say that. Who's asking?"

"Never mind. I've been here before and I've never seen you. So you're new."

My eyes adjust. He's a pudgy, middle aged white guy, an ATM with a cock attached to it. I am a cat, looking for a meal and a warm place to hide. He's a bowl of warm cream. I bend to his eye level.

"So if you're a regular, you must be looking for a date."

"I could be. What's your price?"

I decide to raise my rates. "Seventy five for BJC, One fifty for BBB, including CIM, and Two Bucks Fifty for Greek, top or bottom, covered.

"I want to take you bare back if you can really top. Four hundred."

I back away from the window. "I don't go for bare back penetration." A dozen stern faced sex education lecturers have convinced me of the merits of condoms for penetrative sex.

"Are you sure you can top?"

"If you suck me first, sure."

"That's included?"

"Of course."

He hands me the money. "Get in."

The cab has a lived in look, and the camper shell on the back is equipped with a mattress, pillows and blankets.

"You got a name?"

I decide to tell him a fake. "They call me Cat." "I'm Peter. Where are you from?"

I decide to keep on lying. "I live over in Pico Union, but I'm originally from, ah, San Francisco."

"How old?"

"Eighteen."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not showing you my ID. I'm old enough."

He pulls over on a side street.

"OK, let's get in the back."

I slither between the seats and crouch under the plastic shell. He follows and lies down on the mattress. He pulls down his pants to reveal a pudgy, shaved belly and pubes. His cock is almost buried under a roll of fat. It's only a little bit bigger than mine, and it's small and pink. He rolls over and points his ass up. It too is shaved, and it glistens with lubricant. The rectum is ragged with bulging hemorrhoids.

He looks up with a simpering smile. "OK, Mistress, you know what to do. Take me."

But the truth of the matter is, I don't know what to do. I am a virgin in this way, and would prefer to stay that way. But this was purpose for which Jose gave me the Viagra, and this is my duty to the Mara. I reconstruct the rough techniques that Hector, Cesar, Antoine and the other Mara have used when they topped me, and mentally rehearse my own performance.

I hike up my little denim skirt and slip my cock out of my thong. I kneel beside him and thrust my cock into his mouth, He takes every inch and groans with pleasure. He is playing with his own cock with one hand and fingering his ass with the other. I grip his head and slam it against me. He looks up at me with grateful eyes, and I glare down with contempt. This little slut has abrogated my role and forced me into his. I am angry and frustrated, and take it out on him, forcing his head back and forth, faster than his flaccid muscles can bob. Finally, his groans become articulate.

"Fuck me, mistress, fuck my ass."

I crawl behind him. His ass is reddened by the clawing of his own fingers. I take one of my condoms from my purse, rip it open with my teeth and roll it on. I hike his ass up into the position that I feel cocks the deepest, and jam it in all of the way. He yelps and collapses flat, and I keep pounding away, taking it almost all of the way out and jamming it in. His ass slides over my rubbered cock, and my thighs bang into his blubbery, soft ass, over and again.

I pull out, roll him over, and pull his legs up. He looks up at me with googly eyes and I just keep fucking him, as hard as I can. His moans become more rhythmic and higher pitched, almost soprano, and then he squeals and a jet of sperm flies from his cock up to his chin.

Now that he has cum, I can finish. I try to go faster, and squeeze my own ass, but the sensation is dulled by the condom and by the softness of his flesh. If only his ass was tighter, or my cock was bigger, I could release my orgasm, but his ass is so slippery my cock can't get traction. I want to cum, and get this nightmare over, but I can't.

I am hot, sweaty and winded from the unaccustomed effort of topping this quivering, whimpering mass of flab. I start slapping his back fat in frustration, and he responds with "More, more, harder, harder, and I keep hitting him and he keeps crying for more but I can't come. Finally, I stop and collapse on top of him. His body is like a pillow, and I rest for a moment. I am exhausted, but my cock is still hard. I pull out, and grab a tissue, and pull off the condom, and clean my cock with a wipe.

"I'm tired out, and out time is almost up. I can't cum."

"You're not done until you cum on me, or in me."

"I'm sorry. I just can't do it."

"I'll suck you."

"Forget it, that didn't work either. I guess I'm not in the mood."

"I paid for you. You should cum for me."

"OK, I have an idea. Roll over."

I grab my lube and squirt it into my hand, and then I sit astride his chest. Even my slight weight made him struggle for breath, but he seemed to like the asphyxiation, which brings a smile to his face. I close my eyes and begin to rub my cock in my lubed hand. I emotionally project myself to the mountain meadow where Matt Frawley always brought me. He lays me down on a bed of flowering clover that tickles my nose and my skin as he presses down on me. He enters me gently, millimeter at a time, and fondles my breasts. Then he rolls me over, spreads my legs into missionary, and enters me again. Only now, I have a real pussy, and he's fucking me there. The pounding of his flesh in this new, virginal orifice awakens something within me. My juices roil with the intensity of a gathering hurricane. As his lips touch mine, my mouth contorts into a howl of anguish and ecstasy. Like a firey flow of magma from a crevice at the bottom of the deepest sea, my orgasm has erupted.

I open my eyes and watch Peter lick droplets of my cum from his lips.

I collapse to the filthy mattress next to him, and for a moment, wish I was dead.

Peter pays me an extra fifty for the good service and after I give him a fake phone number he leaves me off in front of Yukon. I take a seat at an empty table and order a cup of coffee. I rest my head on the table and close my eyes. The Ice hit is wearing off. I am starting to get depressed, tired and scared. I am hungry, but I am nauseous. And I am afraid to eat, afraid of how the food will feel inside.

A voice calls from the neighboring table

"Hey little girl, you just do Peter the Pervert in the Ford?"

I look over, and see a voluptuous, caramel skinned, and quite pretty black transsexual. She's smiling so broadly it's almost a laugh.

"What if I did?"

"You better have covered up, because every girl I know has done him once, and not all of them did. He's just as sick as the sickest one of them."

"I covered. But he wanted me bareback."

"He's a freak. You'll be OK."

I glance over at her, still resting my head. "I guess I'm part of the club, huh?"

She laughs heartily. "Yeah girlie, welcome to our club. My name's Cherry, mind if I join you?"

"Sure, as long as we leave room for a couple of guys."

She slaps the table and laughs again. "You're a funny one, aren't you? I'll save your seat while you go fix your make up. Got to look pretty for the after hours crowd from Peanuts."

I look at my watch, a shiny new Movado that we lifted from the Target. It's 1:45.

I stagger to my feet, nearly toppling from my heels. The room seems to lurch at me. The fluorescent lights buzz, and cast foggy halos. I am crashing from the speed.

Cherry catches my arm. "Are you OK, girl?"

I whisper in Cherry's ear "I did some tweak earlier and I'm coming down hard."

"Why didn't you say so, girl? I can help out there."

She follows me to the rest room. I almost turn into the men's room, but Cherry grabs my shoulders and detours me to the ladies. We go together into the last stall and she produces a vial of powder and a tiny spoon.

"No smoking in here, but we can at least powder our noses. Here's how." She exhales, pinches off one nostril, and then sucks the heap of powder from her nail into the other. She repeats with the other side and then offers me a pile of crystal meth from her pinky. I suck it up my nose and a chemical blast sears my sinuses.

"It stings."

"Like a rattle snake. But it keeps the snake happy, and wide awake." She patted the slight bulge at the front of her dress at the groin.

The fresh hit of speed sends a wave of pleasure and confidence through my tired mind and body.

"I feel better already, but dirty."

"Let me help you clean up." She bends down to her knees and slides down my thong. She pulls a baby wipe from her purse and sponges my cock, thighs and ass clean.

"My oh my, aren't you a pretty baby down there. Not a hair to be seen." She blows a cool breath on my cock and pulls my panties up. "Got to save that for the paying customers. All you need are some boobies like mine and you're going to be a star." She opens the stall and we go to the sinks and start making up.

"I'm not old enough to get the surgery."

"How old are you, child?"

"Almost sixteen."

"That's too young to start the Life. But still, I wish I'd started on the hormones back then. I would have saved a fortune in electrolysis and would have this." She pointed to her Adam's Apple. "It gives me away."

"I know. Mine keeps trying to grow too. I feel it sometimes. Like it's trying to burst out, and I smother it with hormones."

"Be careful not to take too much. That can cause problems. What are you taking?"

"Diane 35 when I get it. Three a day."

"I take ethinyl estradiol and cyproterone acetate."

"That's what's in the Diane."

"Then I guess you're doing it right. Just remember, no bare back there." She points at her butt. "They all want it, but they can't have it."

"I know. They tell us that every year in school. What do you think sucking bare back."

"Most of the girls do it. The clients don't like covers, they all want CIM. And I like it, so I do it every day and I don't really worry about it. Back in '03 I was living in Frisco, and was in a study about it. The doctors said it was a risk, but a pretty low one. To keep going crazy about it, you just have to test regularly."

"I don't have a doctor any more."

"They sell a test that you can do it yourself, it costs about fifty bucks, and they mail the results. I take one every couple of months, and I've been clean on every one of them."

I finished with my gloss. "How do I look?"

"Like you're ready to suck some dicks. Let's go while we can still get our table."

Yukon was beginning to fill up with people and sound. When Peanuts closes at 2 a.m. the remnant of the alcohol-lubricated crowd that hasn't hooked up there slithers over to Yukon. Cherry and I take our places and she orders a couple of glasses of ice tea while we wait to be some drunken guys' last chances. I am hyper aware, sensing every vibe from the guys as they circle us. I sit on the aisle, to ward away the pair of Arabs with slimy hair, and Cherry rewards me with a knowing smile and a confidential whisper. "I know those guys. They're stingy and demanding."

She looks over my shoulder and says "Don't look now, but when the next pair of dress shoes and pin stripe pants passes by, look up at him and smile."

I wait impatiently for the trod of leather heels, and when they come, gaze upward. It's a tall, slender white guy with graying temples and thick glasses. He has a long nose, an even longer chin, and his face is thin. He has dark circles under his eyes and his skin is very pale. But his body is perfect, narrow at the hips, broad at the shoulders, and his pants hang perfectly, without any paunch or bulges of fat.

He looks like an ad for the suit he's wearing, his white shirt is still pressed and clean, and his beautiful red silk tie is tied perfectly at his neck. He looks rich, like he could afford any TGirl in Peanuts or here, but I want him to choose me. My breast stirs with new energy, and I pick up my little fake Chanel clutch from the seat and switch it to the inside, out of his way. I catch his pale grey eyes and smile. He stops and stoops to my eye level, never diverting his gaze from my eyes.

"Mind if we join you ladies?"

I slide over to the inside seat of our booth.

"It's getting crowded here. Of course we can share our booth."

Cherry laughs as his companion, the blond banker, as I think of him, takes his seat. "I think it's so crowded that we should leave."

Cherry's new friend says "That works for me. My name is Hal."

Cherry laughs again. "Well Hallelujah, Hal. Mine's Cherry, like what you put on top of a two scoop chocolate sundae with whipped cream." She shakes her chest, and her big brown boobs jiggle like bowls of Jello.

Hal is transfixed. "That looks delicious."

I am locking eyes with my companion. "She's funny, isn't she?"

"Yes, but you are beautiful. What's your name?"

"It's Tyla."

"Like Thailand?"

I decide that's a good enough explanation for this promising new stranger. "Yes, my mom's Thai, but I was born here. What's yours?"

"Eric Saunders. Oops, I guess I wasn't supposed to tell you my whole name on a first date. It just kind of slipped out."

"Do you want me to forget it?" I looked into his eyes. They are bloodshot from too much drink, but they seem warm and sensitive.

"No. I don't. Let's get out of here."

We get up, the first girls to exit Yukon. I feel jealous eyes boring into me as I leave. But Cherry is ebullient. She just laughs and points and crack jokes to the girls she knows as she leaves. She is a pro, and I am her new student. I smile at our envious audience and copy her when she waves goodbye.

Eric's opens the passenger door for me and shuts it behind me. He is treating me like a lady, not a whore he just picked up, so I decide that for the night I will act the part of his girlfriend.

Eric starts the car, which roars to life with a rush of power. I am a little cold, and shiver, and he flicks on the seat warmer. My ass starts glow with warmth, and I am feeling sexy again. He turns to me as he slips the car into gear.

"I am so glad we met you. The crowd at Peanuts and Yukon is so sleazy."

From the back seat, I hear giggles, whispers, a zip and a rustle of fabric, the clank of a belt, and then the smacky, breathy sound of lips around a cock.

"I am glad you chose me. I really wanted to get away from that scene."

"It sounds like your friend and mine our having fun. We should trade places at the next stoplight."

I reach over and start massaging his cock, which immediately springs to life. "Mmm, I can't wait to suck on this."

"Your fingers are perfect for now." I resume kneading his hard-on through the fine fabric of his suit pants. "We're not going far, and I should concentrate on driving."

"I think I could make you have a terrible accident if this thing weren't in the way." I banged on the center console.

"It would be the perfect way to die, I suppose." He sighs.

"But if I must die with your cock in my mouth, it should be from suffocation."

"I promise to remember to let you breathe."

"If I pass out, just give me cock to butt resuscitation."

Everyone bursts out laughing.

Cherry smacks her lips around Hal's cock and says "Bitch, you almost made me choke on this piece of meat."

"Cherry, you got to eat more carefully." I hear a new round of enthusiastic sucking.

We pull up at the Elan Hotel. The valet whisks off the BMW, and we walk in a group, laughing a little too loud for the late hour, into the hotel. The night clerk eyes us warily as we tiptoe through the lobby to their suite. From his glare I can tell he has figured that Eric and Hal are well-dressed businessmen and Cherry and I are trashily dressed hookers. But I don't care.

Eric closes the door and kisses me. I push his lips away. "I want to get down with you, but can we take care of business first?"

"Oh yeah, how about a thousand for the night."

I am shocked. "For both of us?"

"No, Hal's on his own with Cherry."

"OK, that's really generous." I am hypnotized as he piles the stack of Franklins on the night stand. I leave them there.

He's naked now, and already hard. His cock is cut and about 8 inches. He's taking off my sandals, unwinding the straps. He pulls open my belt, and slides down my skirt. He piles it neatly at the bedside. I pull off the halter and unhook the push up bra. It has drawn little lines in my flesh, so sit with my arms crossed across my boobs. He uncrosses my arms and kisses each of my nipples.

"Oh, baby, you are delicious."

He pulls back the covers and pushes me back down on the bed. The sheets are soft, clean and fragrant. The bed is springy but firm. I scoot my body into position and find his cock between my lips. I kiss the tip and take it in deep, and start pumping. He tastes so clean, so fresh, that I feel dirty and cheap. I stop, and look up.

"Do you mind if I freshen up a little before we get started."

"Do you want to shower?"

"I want to be perfect for you."

"Long day and night?"

"I can't even begin to tell you."

"Me too. You go first."

I cover up daintily as I walk to the shower. His eyes never leave me. I close the door, open it again, and blow a kiss.

I have never been in such a fine bathroom. It's all marble, with two sinks, and both a shower and bath. I am in a hurry so I shower. There is a little plastic hat to keep my hair dry, like a head condom. The shower is filled with its own set of fancy toiletries, but I use only the shower gel, and dig my finger as deep as I can into my hole. It feels tight, and I make sure I am clean. I towel off with the thickest, softest towel I have ever felt, and use half of the little bottle of mouth wash by the sink. I check my make up. I look good.

When I come out, Eric is leaning over his desk and his nose makes a loud sucking noise.

He looks up, a little embarrassed.

"I got a little tired, and need a little refreshment. Want some?"

I take a rolled hundred from him and sniff the line of crystalline powder. It stings, but in a cool, minty way.

"That tastes really fresh, like menthol or something."

"It's coke. Don't tell me you've never tried it."

"Is it a kind of meth?"

"No, it's better."

I feel a smooth rush of energy, and sniff the other line. He leaves the door open as he pees, and showers. I can see his silhouette through the shower door as he carefully scrubs.

"God, the day I had, what a tough deal, and then Peanuts was not much better. The girls there are so stuck up."

"I know." I don't. I am not even old enough to get in to Peanuts. But Eric hasn't noticed that. When I was a boy, everyone thought I was younger than I really was. I guess I look older as a girl.

There are two pieces of candy on the bed. I snatch one. I'm starving.

"Can we eat these?"

He looks at me kind of funny, as if I have asked him something really stupid, and says "You have them. I only like one kind of candy."

I pop one in my mouth and relax into the mound of pillows. I feel his body nudge my thighs apart and then his warm lips circling my cock.

"Mmm, you mean cock candy." I enjoy the chocolate melting in my mouth and oozing down my throat, and Eric lips flicking at my cock, and then taking it in his mouth. He gently probes a finger into my ass and strokes my nipples, and I cry out with pleasure.

"God, that feels so good." He nods his head and keeps sucking and pressing his finger against the rim of my hole. I love being Eric's whore. For the first time, someone is trying to make me feel good and getting pleasure from my pleasure. I moan appreciation and he nods his head and sucks me more.

He slides his body up mine and kisses me. I let him put his tongue in my mouth and we twirl tongues and I feel his cock pressing against my inner thigh and I feel hungry and empty inside and I want him in me, to fill the place inside me that had been blasted open and abandoned by the Mara. He breaks off the kiss and rolls off me, onto his side, but his body is still pumping against mine.

He whispers in my ear. "Your lips are like a delicious chocolate dessert."

I slide down the bed toward his mid section. His stomach is reasonably flat, not fat, but not a washboard like Hector.

"I want some cock candy too." I finish my thought by taking his cock between my lips and twirling my tongue over the glans. His body quivers and stiffens, and he cries out.

"Slow down, baby, or I'll pop too soon."

I plunge my head down so his cock slides in all of the way, and bob so it slides past my tonsils and into my throat. He's thick, I can barely breathe, but the coke and speed are rushing through me and I feel like I can do anything, so I bob up and down, ramming him so deep that my nostrils touch his pubes, and then out until my tongue is trilling the tip, and then again.

"Slower, baby, I don't want to cum in your mouth."

"It's OK if you do. I want to eat your cum."

"But I want to save it for this."

He pats my butt.

"Mmm, I want both. I guess I'm just a greedy girl." I slide up next to him. "How do you want to fuck me."

"I'd like you to start cowboy, so I can see your beautiful face when I enter you."

I reach over to my purse and rip open a condom. I roll it onto his cock, and then slather it with Astroglide. I wipe the extra on my butt, and poke some inside on my finger. "You bad boy, you want to see me cry, don't you."

"No, I'll be careful. I just want to see how you express yourself, how your beautiful Asian face changes when I enter you."

I straddle him, poise his cock against my ass. I lower my eyelids and bite my lower lip in anticipation of the rush of pain that's coming. I let my thighs soften, and glide downward. The cock presses against me, and I press down my sphincters and feel it pop through. My lips curl back into a grimace, I force them into a pucker and bite them, to counter the pain rippling up from my behind. My eyes are pinched closed, and I force them open, to look at Eric through a blur of tears. He wants to see me suffer, so I open my soul.

I want him to fill the void that a dozen Mara cocks have drilled within me, to forget about them, and to revel in this paradise of clean sheets and safety. I want to use the intensity of this moment to obliterate every second of humiliation and degradation I've endured in my transition, from Matt, from Antoine, and now, from the Mara. I slam my body down on him and bury him to the hilt. The fabric of my flesh is ripped asunder as though by a knife, and a cry out in inarticulate agony.

I have started a bonfire inside me, and now I surge up and down, pumping the bellows to stoke the cleansing flames that are devouring all memory of Cesar, Jose, Hector, and the brutal soldiers who participated in my initiation. I just want to forget about Mara and the street and whore myself in warm rooms on clean sheets to guys who appreciate me and pay me more than I would have asked. I am crying, my head is thrashing, and my body is flailing up and down. I press my sphincters down as a lunge down, and squeeze them as I rise, because I want my ass to suck the sperm from his cock.

At first Eric tries to be gentle, to moderate the blows that I am self-inflicting. But my passion is infectious, and soon his body surges up against my down strokes and down as I rise. The full eight inches of his cock tear at me each time our bodies collide and retreat.

I want his sperm to burst the condom and wash through me, rinsing me of the filth of the Mara and the Street. I am angry at the Mara, who first took me to be one of their own, and when I gave myself to them peddled me on the street like some second hand clothes. If I am to sell myself, it should be Rodeo Drive, not garage sale. Now I am fucking a guy for a thousand bucks a couple of blocks from Rodeo, and I don't want to go back Vermont and Third. I want Eric's cock and to free me from theirs, his generosity to free me from the life sex slavery that the Mara have made for me. So I bang down even harder and faster, until at last I am winded and collapse on top of his chest.

He strokes my hair, pulls it behind my ear. "Whoa, baby, that was incredible. You are insatiable."

"So are you. I just wanted all of you, all at once."

"You got what you wanted. And so did I. I have never seen anything more beautiful than your face when it changed as entered you."

"Is my face still beautiful?"

"It always was. But especially then. And your ass is like a velvet tunnel. I love the way you sacrificed yourself for me."

"It wasn't sacrifice. I needed you. I still need you."

"I didn't hurt you?"

"A little bit, but from the greatest pain comes an even greater pleasure. You make me feel like a real girl when you are inside me. And that is how I love to feel. Because I am a girl, even though I have this." I point to my cock which lies soft across his belly. "But now it is time for you. How do you want to fuck me now?"

"On all fours?" "Doggy is my favorite. I want to be your bitch."

I roll over, point my ass in the air, and grind my face into the sheets. "OK, fuck me hard, make me cum like a girl."

He kneels behind me and pauses at my rectum. I grab hold of him and thrust my thighs backward to re ignite the firestorm inside me, to burn more bad memories. My ass is wet and flexible now, and I grip my muscles tight around his rampaging penis. He grabs a handful of hair from the nape of my neck and holds it like the reins of a horse, and I buck against him like a rodeo pony.

"Slap my ass."

He spanks me. "Harder, harder, spank me harder."

He hits me three more times. My ass tingles with warm and prickles with sensation.

"More, harder, fuck your little teenage whore. I'm bad, fuck me, spank your little teenaged cum slut."

My dirty talk excites him, and now his fucking jolts me so hard I collapse to the bed, and I get to feel his big, firm body atop me. It crushes me, traps me, I am helpless, and in this position his cock rams even deeper within me. It makes me feel girly to be so helpless, so totally fucked, and I grab one of his hands and place it on my little tittie and the other on my cock, which speed and sex have reduced to a shrunken nub. But it ripples sensation when he touches it.

"Fuck me really hard now, and I think I can cum."

He must work out, because we have been fucking for an hour and he's still going strong. The speed is keeping me going but my muscles are failing, I can't keep fucking back, so I let my body relax as his moment builds. I put one hand on my other tittie and pinch the nipple, harder and harder and bite my lips as his body pulsates against me with ever greater force.

I close my eyes. I am the Empress of Cambodia. The barbarians have invaded, they are destroying my temples, slaughtering my people, and they are at the palace gate. I am the last hope. I offer myself to the barbarian chief, and he throws me on the bed and rapes me. When he is finished, he tells me, he will slaughter me and take my throne.

Will you rule wisely, and be kind to my people? Yes, he tells me, because then they will be my people. I close my eyes, thank Buddha for this opportunity to serve, and tell him to finish. As I do, my shrunken cock hardens and a burst of steamy cum leaks from the tip. I let out a happy shriek of release and my body vibrates with pleasure. My second orgasm of the night is much stronger and pleasurable, as though ever cell in my body had been released of bondage. I smile, for I feel that I have cum as a woman.

Eric senses the signal from my body, grunts a wild barbaric roar and throbs against me, stabbing his cock deep grabbing my shoulders and shaking them heedless of any care. I can feel the condom ripple as his load fills the tip and drives it deep inside me.

"I came. You did too, didn't you?"

I nod my head, but I bury it deep within the sheets. I don't want him to see my tears, because he would misinterpret them. They are tears of happiness.

"That was fantastic. The best sex I have ever had." Eric rolls off of me."

"For me too. I almost never cum, the hormones make it hard."

He rolls off of me and lopes to the bathroom. I hear the piss rattle in the toilet. When he comes out he brings me a robe.

"Hey, you're welcome to take a shower before you go."

I am speechless with hurt. I stare at the ceiling, at the luxurious bedding, at the stack of hundreds, at the coke-smeared glass desk top. It is not mine. I am not part it. I belong to the ghetto, to the Mara.

"You want me to go?"

"Yeah, I got a flight back to New York tomorrow and I got to get a few hours of sleep."

I reject the robe he offers me.

"I don't need a shower. I'll just go now." I swiftly get dressed, not even looking up. He dawdles in his robe, not helping me gather my scattered clothes. When I am done, I give him a mechanical hug but reject his kiss. I need to break away from Eric too.

"Here's fifty for your cab. Leave me your phone number if you want to. I'd see you again next time I'm in LA.

"Sure. I will." Now I am fighting back real tears. I have escaped the Mara for only a few hours, and now must return to their clutches. I must plan a new escape.

TBC