Secondary Education Chapter 14 Betrayal
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Secondary Education, Chapter 4, Inititation free porn video
Secondary Education
Tyla Flowers
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Chapter 4
Initiation
I wait in line at Target behind a squat Latina and her raucous brood. She
barks shrill commands and threats, which they cheerfully ignore as they
slip cheap toys into her already stuffed shopping cart. Her boyfriend
ignores the anarchy as he adds an armful of last minute items to their
tottering pile of goods. The cashier rolls her eyes at me she mindlessly
scans the items, oblivious to the ongoing bedlam. I wink back, and smile.
She is the perfect clerk for me.
I point at mom's bulbous butt, smirk, and throw my arm around Cesar. "No
wonder you Latinos prefer T Girlfriends."
"It's not the booty, it's the way you ladyboys suck cock. It comes
naturally to you, because you got one to practice with."
I punch him playfully, and he grabs my butt. The clerk notices and gives
me a sisterly smile. I submit to his slobbery kiss, meet the clerk's gaze
again, and she's still smiling. I am bright spot in her dreary landscape.
My shopping day at Target will be a success.
For even Target, though a cheap chic fashion leader, doesn't offer the
droplet earrings, the crystal drop pendants, oval link bracelets,
zirconium encrusted rings, and True Religion jeans for the bargain prices
that I pay. I am high tech shoplifting. My cart is loaded with miss-marked
goods labeled with counterfeit bar codes that Cesar and I have printed at
home, and surreptitiously substituted for the Target's. Isaac Mizrahi tops
for $4.99? Ridiculous, I agree, but that is what the new label says. And
that is what I will gladly pay with the drug money that I am laundering,
and multiplying for MS-13.
Mara will sell the Mizrahi's on E-Bay for $20. The proceeds will go into
Pay Pal accounts Mara has set up for the friends and family, aunts and
countless cousins of Mara's members. The ragged slums of Col?n will be
flooded with precious cash, which I will have helped to multiply and
launder. Mara will use this bounty to increase its wealth and power, for
it uses charity, as well as terror to maintain its grip on the barrio. For
my part in devising and implementing this scheme, I get to keep the prize
gleanings of my shopping sprees. I love my job with the Mara. I am its
number one shopper. We pay for our purloined load of luxury goods in cash,
and with a friendly smile. I wish the clerk good day, and I mean it. I am
having a great day.
Jose is waiting in parking lot. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel
of the battered Astro, bristling with speed-induced anxiety.
"What took you so long? I thought you were busted."
I sweep aside a greasy pile of food wrappings and sit in the passenger
seat. I swing the rear view mirror toward me and freshen my lip gloss.
"The longest lines are the safest."
Jose abruptly swings the rearview back in place and checks it.
"Yeah, I know what you mean about long lines." He produces a shard of
mirror from beneath his seat, snorts up a pile of crystalline powder, and
exhales pleasure. "Too bad, it's all gone." He waves a smudged fragment of
mirror at me."
"That's OK, I don't want any." I have witnessed my mother's spiral into
addiction. I have enough problems without adding drugs.
Cesar comes to the driver's side window. "All loaded up, boss. Let's go."
Jose clunks the van into gear and it jolts into motion. "No room for you,
cholo." He dismisses Cesar with a wave of his bejeweled finger bling.
"We are late on the drop off. Hector's called five times, driving me
crazy."
Cesar waves and lopes off toward a bus stop. "See you back at the Casa."
I blow Cesar a kiss, and then gesture at the merchandize piled in the back
of the grimy van. "I have to take my time when I shop. I got True
Religion, Mossimo, all of the best brands, for about one tenth price. Mara
will double its money from this haul."
"It's too complicated. I'd rather sell dope, or maybe your faggot ass, out
on the street."
"Why do you hate me so much? I work hard for the Mara."
"Mara is not short for maricone. We are not a bunch of faggots like you
are."
"I am a T-Girl, and that's different. You were happy to let me blow you."
"Once was enough. We Mara should have real girls, not dressed-up vestidos
like you."
"I think I look good, and Hector wants to initiate me." I pout
provocatively, but Jose looks away, concentrates on the bumpy ride down
Virgil toward the Mara's home base in Pico Union.
"Maybe Hector's got too much crank up his nose to smell the difference
between pussy and a shithole."
"Don't say that. Look at this, I look good." I pull up my crop top, and
show off my boobs. "Look, almost a B-cup, and shaped like a girl's." A
passing car cholos honks and yells admiringly.
Jose reaches over and yanks my top down, then pulls a hard right down a
littered alley. "Shit, I think those guys are 18 Street. You are going to
get us killed, you loco skank. If you want to be Mara, you should be a
man, fighting for Mara on the street." He pull another couple of rights,
speeds down chain link bordered rows of dowdy apartment buildings, and
gets back on Virgil.
"But that's not what I do best. I use my head for Mara, both ways. I
invented the new logo, and the fake bar code scheme. And I suck cock
good."
"Your shoplifting scheme is risky, too complicated, not for us. Mara gets
what it wants by force, not tricks. You are making weak with your
schemes." Jos? snorts disgust and blasts his horn at a laggard Toyota that
pauses too long at the stoplight.
"I'd like to fuck that fucker up. And you too, before you ruin this
posse."
"You won't, though. Hector is the boss. And he likes me, my mouth, and my
ideas." I purse my lips and wriggle my shoulders.
"You just shut your mouth for now." Jose stares straight ahead drives
faster toward the apartment complex near Rampart and Third where Hector's
posse of the MS-13 has its headquarters.
Bella Casa Manor's walls are filigreed with MS-13 emblems proclaiming its
status as the center of Hector's fiefdom. A nine year old clutching a cell
phone eyes us warily until Jose flashes him a sign. We park, and the kid
jumps nervously, and then quickly complies when Jose barks an order to
watch the van.
The kid smiles obsequiously and posts himself atop a neighbor's stoop to
better watch over the haul from my illicit shopping spree. The trove
belongs to Mara now, so it is inviolable.
The Bella Casa Manor's security doors are propped open with a garbage can.
Jose and I staggers in, burdened by the dead weight of stuffed shopping
bags. We walk through the graffiti and trash encrusted foyer, past an
abandoned, algae-scummed swimming pool. A partially deflated float toy
bobs forlornly in the greenish water. Pico Union is even dirtier and more
run down than Hollywood.
Still, I am glad to be out. I have been trapped in my own little hell for
the last two weeks, as I recover from my belly piercing and tattoo. At
first, the belly ring hurt so much I couldn't wear anything except
pajamas, and even sucking Cesar off made me feel like I was going to break
open and bleed out. Getting laid was out of the question, but today, for
the first time, I feel ready. And I want it. But Jose has made his
distaste for me clear. I wonder how Hector react when he sees me.
Cesar has been very nice to me, but he seems weak and powerless compared
to Hector, who has done hard time and has killed rivals and enemies.
Hector exudes manly ruthlessness. Cesar is a wannabee.
Still, I am grateful to Cesar. He introduced me to Mara, and now, for the
first time in my life I feel like I have someone watching
my back, and taking care of me. While I was getting better from the belly
ring, Cesar brought me magazines and beauty products, and even picked up
my independent study work from Mr. Knudsen. When I felt good enough to get
out and around Cesar took me to a Vietnamese nail salon for a manicure and
pedicure, and to a Filipino hair salon for a haircut and highlights.
I think I look hot in my French tipped nails and my fashionable haircut. I
copied my from Paris Hilton's picture in Us magazine. I want to be a
celebrity. I would love to have paparazzi taking my picture in front of
hot nightclubs. I want to drink martinis and sleep with hip hop stars. I
think I almost look the part.
I awake from this daydream when five inch pumps slip on a discarded
needle. I have practiced walking in high heels around my apartment, but I
am unaccustomed to wearing them out in the real world. I nearly tumble
down the cracked staircase. Jose drops his packages, catches me. He is
holding me in his arms, and I smile and say thank you. But Jose frowns,
and curses.
"Watch where you walk, maricone." I tread carefully past the fetid garbage
bags which line the balcony, holding the wobbly railing. We pause at the
door of unit 13.
Jose puts down his burden of Target merchandise and knocks in a measured
pattern. A syncopated knock returns, Jose responds, and the door opens on
a dark, smoky and rank smelling apartment, crowded with MS 13 members and
acolytes. Hector stands at the center of this knot of gang bangers stands
Hector. At his feet a bloodied body sprawls on the stained linoleum of the
kitchen. He kicks the inert form in the mid section, and grunts an order
to two of the home boys, who pick pull the body to its feet and lug it
away. The head lolls I see that it is Cesar. His face is swollen nearly
past recognition and drips blood. I gasp, and turn away in horror and
disgust. Jose seizes my head and forces me to look closely.
"Congratulate your lover boy. He's our newest member."
"Why did you kill him?"
"He's not dead. He's just resting after his initiation." Jose's joke draws
laughter from the audience of a dozen or so MS soldiers.
Hector sees me. "Time for you now, T-chica."
I want to leave. I can't imagine surviving a beating in like the one Cesar
has suffered. Hector sees my fright. "Don't worry, we have a special
procedure for the chica's." A couple of beefy young MS soldiers grab me
under my arms and pick me up. I kick my legs helplessly as they lift me
across the crowded living room. Random hands paw at me as I pass through.
I hear fragments of their commentary. "Yeah, the T chica's got tits," and
"the he-she's got a hot little twat."
They push me into a tiny room and fling me face down onto a narrow,
unkempt twin bed. Groping hands pop the snap of my new "7 For All Mankind"
jeans and yank them down to my ankles. "Strip and lie down on the bed."
The door slams and I hear a lock snick behind me. I jump up to try to get
out, or to appeal to Hector, but it's locked. I look for an escape but the
windows are barred. Outside, the streets glimmer in the fading afternoon
light. Inside, the room is dark, filthy, and strewn with the residue of
bygone orgies: condom wrappers, discarded underwear, and cigarette butts.
On the other bed, I notice the prone body of a young girl. She moans
quietly. "Get out, go away..."
I draw near and whisper "Are you OK?"
She replies with another groan, and replies "Yeah, cuz it's your turn now.
Just do what they say. It will be over soon enough." She rolls over to
face the wall, and exposes her backside to me. Her back tattoo bears a
disconcerting similarity to my own. I hear a few stifled sobs.
"Can I help?"
"I don't need any help. I'm Mara now. They just sexed me in."
"What do you mean?"
"Those guys out there, they all just fucked me, I'm officially MS now. Now
it's your turn, so my troubles are over."
I hear thudding and a crash from outside our bedroom. I am panicking.
"What's going on now?"
My roommate replies "Now they're going to jump in another guy. In a few
minutes, they are going to sex you in."
I am hyperventilating. I force control over myself. I need to be relaxed
and receptive to survive a gang banging, and to this chica, one of my
soon-to-be sisters, I must appear cool and confident. I relax on the bed,
and pull off my spaghetti strap top, and unhook and slip off my lacy
purple Wonderbra. "How many of them?" I feign careless indifference to my
fate, though inside me, my heart pounds, and my mind races with anxiety.
Will I die in this filthy, smelly room, and be carried away dead to a
burial in a dumpster? This mattress is filthy, redolent of curdled vomit,
stale beer and sex. The steel bed frame is chipped and squeaky. I want to
get away, but the windows are barred, and the door is locked. I try to
find solace in Hector's lust for me, but after the cruel fate he dealt to
Cesar, I am afraid for myself. But I can't show it to this girl, or to
them.
She too affects an eerie calm. "I don't know. I just closed my eyes,
pretended it was a dream, so I lost count. Tell you what, I'll keep track
for you." She rolls back over and looks me over. "I don't know you, where
are you from?"
Before I can answer, the door resounds with a loud knock. "Shut the fuck
up and get ready." Hector's voice is ominous, impatient. I turn around as
I slither out of my panties. I am tucked, but my roommate notices the
bulge. "Oh, you're the trannie. You're so cute, I never would have known
if I didn't see your little thing. This should be interesting to watch."
"Thanks. I'll try to put on a good show for you."
I lie face down on the bed and wet my anus with some saliva. Outside, the
jumping in is ending, and the fusillade of kicks has subsided. I hear
laughter, and the swish of a limp body dragged across the floor. Then, the
lock turns, and the door opens.
"Who want first fuck?" Hector is making a generous offer to his followers,
but they reply in unison, as if rehearsed.
"Esta primo, jefe."
I realize that this initiation is as much as proving Hector's primacy over
his gang, as my subservience to it. But I am willing to play my role, if
that is the price of acceptance, and protection.
Hector grunts and grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks up my head. I take
him into my mouth, and taste a fishy residue on his cock. I recognize the
aroma from my mom's panties. It is my first taste of pussy, and to my
surprise, I like it. It makes me feel sexy, and I start to relax. I like
blowing Hector in front of a crowd of horny cholos, and I want them to
want me. This is my chance to be accepted. I decide that I should perform
like Paris Hilton. I close my eyes and imagine that I am in a movie,
performing oral for a camera. Hector is my co-star, and the gangstas who
catcall and whoop are the camera crew. As my fantasy deepens, my fear
subsides.
When I open my eyes, it is still Pico Union, not a porno set, but it is
still performance. I give it my best. Hector is small, so he is easy to
suck. I am glad he is first. I know he will want to finish in my ass,
where his smallish cock will ease the way for the others..
I pump my lips on his cock, moaning enthusiastically. From the crowd I
hear hoots of appreciation. "Ladyboy, ladyboy got to fuck the ladyboy." I
put on a show, swallowing Hector's cock all the way, while gazing up
toward him worshipfully.
Hector whoops with glee. "Look at that, isn't the ladyboy the best little
cocksucker ever." He pulls out and gets behind me, pulls my butt up high
in the air.
"Look at that. Isn't that the cutest little trannie ass you ever saw?"
"I haven't seen that much trannie ass before," someone answers. Hector
laughs, spits on my ass, and presses his cock against my ass.
"It gets a little dirty back here in the bootie, so I'm going to cover up.
Somebody throw me a rubber."
He rolls on a condom, and barks an order. "Crazy 8, you fuck ladyboy's
face now."
Hector grabs my thighs for leverage and then rams and penetrates me to the
hilt in a single swift lunge. The intrusion is so sudden that even his
short and slender cock jolts me with pain. I let out an aggrieved gasp,
and the crowd grunts back appreciation, high fiving their leaders' brutal
assault on me. Hector rides me with short, rough stabs that set the bed
squeaking and my tiny ball sack and boobs swaying. Hector slaps my cheeks,
and says "I always wanted a little fuck pony. Tyla's my cock's favorite
ride, oh yeah." Our audience laughs, and chants "Ladyboy, ladyboy,
ladyboy" manically.
I force a smile and throw a wanton glance, but before I can say a word or
make eye contact my mouth is plugged by Crazy 8's cock. His is a large
uncircumcised penis several shades darker than Hector's,. It's coated with
the same fishy film of dried vaginal secretions. I swallow it as deep as
it will go, and the grab his buttocks to force it past my tonsils. I look
up at him with blurry eyes, watery with the effort of forcing the cock in
and quelling my gag reflex. I roll my lips over my teeth, arch my palate,
and pump him down my throat, taking short breaths on the upstrokes. I
reach one arm back and stroke Hector's thigh, which vibrates as he slams
his cock into me.
I find a harmonic in their wild motions, and my body bounces between
Hector and Crazy 8 like an oscillating spring, rippling rhythmically as
Hector drums my ass and Crazy 8 drills my mouth. They synchronize and
accelerate in an unspoken conspiracy of sexual motion.
I am hot with the friction of two cocks flailing at either end of me. My
ass feels moist and supple and my lips are puckered and full. I answer
their rhythms with my own undulations. I go down on Crazy 8's cock as I
retract my ass from Hector's cock, then thrust back on Hector as I pull
back, breathing hard on Crazy's retreating penis. Hector tugs my hair one
way, and Crazy pulls my head the other. Hector slaps at my butt cheeks,
and Crazy gropes at my jiggling boobs. I let them control me, possess me,
and descend into a helpless thrall of pain and pleasure as I await their
finish. Hector finishes first, banging so hard against my ass I can
visualize the new bruises on my thighs, and then Crazy geysers a load cum
into my mouth that leaves me coughing, choking, and gasping for breath. My
eyes cloud with fatigue from my exertions, relief for my success and
anxiety for the future. I am winded, wounded and wired from my encounter
with Hector and Crazy 8. How will I survive the onslaught of the baying
mob that crowds around my soiled bed, demanding to be next?
Hector praises me as he departs. "Ladyboy ass is skanky but oh so much
tighter than pussy. All of you should try it."
And so they did, all but Jose, who lurks in by the drawn curtain, counting
Hector's soldiers as they one by one, attacked me. Some of them enter for
a few strokes and leave quickly. A few fuck me until they come and then
stagger off to rejoin, and regale their comrades in the living room. The
nine year old lookout who called himself Sonic can't get a hard-on, so I
suck his childlike penis and hairless balls futilely, until he gets
embarrassed, slaps my face and leaves. Only Jose and I know how many
different penises penetrate me in the four hours I spend in the squalid
bedroom of Unit 13, Bella Casa Manor.
I am alone with Jose at last.
"Get up, strip, and go to the bathroom and shower. And stay there."
Night has fallen, and a cool damp marine layer has crept over Los Angeles.
I shiver in the cold and dark as the plumbing rattles to life. My bowels
are swollen and full, but paralyzed with the pounding I have endured. My
stomach is bloated and achy, but when I stick my finger down my throat, it
provokes only dry heaves.
I look apprehensively into the dark, chipped mirror. I am pleasantly
surprised. My lips are puffy, my make up is smeared, and my hair is matted
with sweat and dried cum. But none of the slaps and punches or the
scratches, bruises and marks of grasping have really hurt me. I gingerly
finger my ass, fearful that it will be frayed and bloody, but is puckered
but still feels tight. The bruises on my buttocks are faint and shallow.
My nipples are raw and sore, but not scratched or scarred. My lips and
tongue are swollen, and my jaw is sore, but my face looks fine. I cast a
sultry gaze into the dark, spotted mirror. I decide that I have become
pretty, better than most girls. I want to be the most beautiful of all.
From my make up bag I take my second Diane-35 of the day.
I feel strong, and more confident. I have endured initiation to the Mara,
and can call myself one with them. The Mara were rough, but careful with
their new ladyboytoy. For this, I am grateful to my new comrades.
I shower in the dark, dirty bathroom. Over the hiss of water, I hear
celebratory voices. I look forward to greeting my new friends, sharing a
beer, and maybe even a hit ice from a glass pipe. Through submission, I
have become Mara. I am happy that they will have me.
TBC
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