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 Caribbean Adventures of Yanel

by Lina Rodriguez

   

Over time, Yanel's encounters with Mike built up her confidence and she began taking greater risks by venturing outside of the relative safety of her apartment building. One evening, as she headed towards the nearest market, no more than two blocks away, she felt as though all eyes were focused exclusively on her. This was the furthest she had ever dared to go, and the adrenaline rush was intense.

Standing an arm's length from the market's door, she surveyed the scene to avoid being recognized. As luck would have it, she bumped into one of her aunts upon opening the door. The aunt, stunned, simply stood there with her mouth open.

"Excuse me," Yanel said, avoiding direct eye contact as she quickly made her way into the crowded store. Her aunt, however, had identified her immediately and was simply too shocked to respond.

She knew she was fucked… her dad would find out by day's end. Two years had passed since this adventure of hers had begun and Yanel had amassed quite an arsenal of clothing and accessories. This all had to be hidden somewhere out of her parent's reach – maybe Mike's place - otherwise she'd be toast.

Hurrying back to the apartment, she decided to cut through the alleys behind the row of buildings on her street in an effort to save time. The sun was setting and her parents would be home in less than twenty minutes. The alley filled with shadows as she made her way past the first two buildings. Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a good idea.

Upon reaching the third building on the row, she noticed all the lights were broken and a single bulb on the fire escape barely provided enough light to see – and avoid – the broken glass on the ground. As she turned the corner to reach her own building, she ran into two men who were little more than shadows in the dimly lit corridor.

One of the men grabbed her as the other opened a door which led into the building's basement. The stench was unbearable as they dragged Yanel down a pitch-black staircase. Resistance was futile. This guy was huge, holding her tightly with a single hand while the other silenced her screams. Somehow, they found their way through the absolute darkness into a room. Yanel heard the door lock behind her as she was thrown onto what felt like a bare mattress.

Had they left her here alone? Were they in here with her? There was absolute silence and the darkness was disorienting. Suddenly, she felt one of the men grab her arms and pin her down on the mattress. The other pinned her legs and started pulling off her clothes.

One of the men cried out, "Fuck me, man! She's a he, muthafuka!" as Yanel was groped and grabbed all over her slender frame. The other man responded, in a much more relaxed tone, "There's only one thing to do, then. Flip the bitch over."

Yanel bit her tongue as the two monsters took turns ripping into her. At one point the pain became so intense, she passed out. When she woke up, she was lying on the mattress in absolute darkness. As she tried to get up she was overcome by the pain in her abdomen, to the point of nearly fainting. Stumbling across the room, she vomited profusely and felt her way along the humid cinderblock wall until she found the door. It took her nearly ten minutes to find the stairs and, as she climbed up to street level, she could hear rats scurrying around her.

How Yanel managed to climb the stairs is still a mystery. She was barely able to open the door to the apartment, collapsing onto the living room floor as it swung open. Her parents ran into the room and found their son laying on the floor, his face smudged with make-up and dirt, and nearly beaten to death.

Her father picked her up and ran down to the street with her in his arms. Hailing a cab, he rushed to the hospital where the truth finally unfolded. This was the last time Yanel would ever see her father.

Two days later, she was released from the hospital. It was a Sunday. Yanel called home and her mother picked up the phone. "You shouldn't come here," her mom said, trying not to cry. "Your father is really, really freaking out and I don't know what he could do to you."

Yanel started to cry. "I packed all your things before he returned from the hospital," her mom said. "They are at my sister's place. She is waiting for you. I'm so sorry, but I really have to go now."

Yanel hung up and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had crossed over the line and now had to face the consequences.

The hospital staff traded her standard issue gown for a pair of jeans and a sweater, and released her. As she walked the eleven blocks to her aunt's house, she tried to concoct an explanation that might work with her father, an old-school macho Latino from the Dominican Republic. Fat chance.

She rang the doorbell, and her aunt greeted her coldly in the hallway. "What the hell have done to your family?" she barked. "Your parents are devastated, and you could care less! Here's what your mother gave me to give to you. Use your fucking head and stop it with this faggot nonsense, ok?"

Aunt handed Yanel a suitcase, which she dragged down the street to the nearest bus shelter. She sat down and opened the rugged luggage. Inside she found all her female clothing and accessories, three pairs of shoes and her make-up case. She also found an envelope, from her mother.

Inside was a note, a calling card, her passport and ten one hundred dollar bills. Her mom wrote that she had talked to Yanel's grandmother in Santo Domingo and that it would be a good idea for her to go there to get away for a while and sort out her issues, figure out what she was going to do with her life. Grandma knew the entire story and was looking forward to having her grandson stay with her for a while. It couldn't be any worse than what she was going through now, Yanel reasoned.

She walked to the nearest subway station and rode down to Grand Central. From there she took a bus to Kennedy airport. It was nearly midnight when she arrived at the American Airlines terminal, and the next available flight was scheduled for 8:15 AM.

Yanel used the card to call her grandmother in Santo Domingo. The old woman was awake and greeted her warmly. She gave her directions to the house, but would not be able to pick her up at the airport as she had no transportation.

The flight began boarding at 7:30 AM. The Homeland Security officer stared intently at her as he examined the passport. It was quite a hard sell, but Yanel finally broke the ice by saying, "look honey, I can't always be a 10, you know?"

The officer laughed, handing back her passport and wishing her a safe trip. Once inside the airplane, she sunk into her seat and quickly fell asleep for the duration of the flight.

The line at the immigration counter in Santo Domingo was short. When Yanel gave the man at the counter her passport, he started laughing. "What's so funny?" she asked in Spanish.

"Honey, how do I know this is you?" he answered. "I'm going to have to send you to interrogation."

What the fuck was this? The man called over to the back office and a young man in a uniform quickly escorted Yanel to a small room with a table and two chairs. The man closed the door behind him and started asking her a series of question. Where was she born? Why did she have a male passport? What did she do for a living?

After about ten minutes, Yanel realized that this was going nowhere. Her family had told her the stories about how officials here often slowed things down in order to extort bribes from people who were in a hurry.

Yanel wasn't in a hurry.

She played along as he teased her flirtatiously. Then she deadpanned, "Look. I have no money but I can give you something you will never forget."

The guard, being no stranger to the finer things in life, quickly unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing uncut cock. Yanel, who was seated, pulled him over to her and quickly made a meal out of his manhood.

After pumping what seemed to be quarts of cum into her mouth, the guard quickly zipped up and stamped her passport. "Enjoy yourself, honey," he said as he waved her off.

  

  

  

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© 2004 by Lina Rodriguez. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.