HEADING FOR THE TEXAS BORDER

The best thing about getting to university was access to the internet. I didn't have a connection at home and since starting to study I'd become addicted to social networking. Leaving home and going south to Mexico City also helped me develop new sexual interests, many of which were considerably more sophisticated than the tree frottage which had been the main outlet for my teenage frustrations in the country. In particular I'd become very keen on both sploshing and sneaker sniffing. However it was social networking sites like Facebook, Bebo and MySpace, that first enabled me to experiment with a fantasy that I was only just now, months after I began to indulge it online, ready to live out on the highways to the north of the farm on which I grew up. Although I'd been born a male, I'd always envied the make-up, clothes and shiny trinkets, girls got to wear. Since arriving in Mexico City I'd read up on subjects such as "Homosexuality and Liberation" and was now ready to discover practically what to date had only been a theoretical insight for me: viz, there is more to be learnt from wearing a dress for a day than wearing a suit for a year!

I'd contacted Mike online at MySpace and he didn't know that I was a guy; he was under the impression I was a chick called Zaidaly. This was, of course, a come on but one that turned us both on. That was why I was dressed up in a blonde wig, tight black skirt and top, and had these fabulous round gold balls dangling from my ears. I was wearing nice make-up too, bright red lipstick and plenty of eye-liner, but I thought the ear-rings were the best touch. The make-up had been done by the sister of my friend José; he'd told her we were going to a fancy dress party to celebrate my coming home from university for the holidays. José had done himself up to look like Franco Nero in the film "Django" and even had a coffin stashed in the back of his broken down van so that he could really play the part. That said, we weren't going to a party, we were heading for the Texas border to meet a man who wanted to make me his 'mail order bride'! Mike was just one of many American guys I'd encouraged to send me come on messages. I'd told Mike I'd always wanted to move to the US, and he'd just said 'come' by way of reply. I'd brought up the issue of getting a visa and Mike said I could live with him in Austin but we couldn't marry because he was still waiting for his divorce papers to come through. I'd talked to José about this and we agreed it was a typical example of Yankee imperialism, where the richest people on earth believed they were entitled to whatever they wanted including cheap sex with economically deprived women from outside the overdeveloped world. So with José I cooked up this story about there being border guards who'd let me into the US for $5000 despite the fact I had no papers, if only Mike would come down to Mexico with it. We were heading north to rob this Texan imperialist; he was driving south under the mistaken impression he'd be bagging himself a regular bang at a bargain basement price.

I'd arranged to meet Mike on a back road. I could see the tail lights of a car when we arrived. Mike was under the impression I was meeting him at night to avoid drawing unwelcome attention from the authorities. The truth was I didn't want him to know I was a man until he'd been lured from his vehicle. I'd told Mike I'd get a lift to the rendezvous from my brother. José parked the van and got out. I stayed put in the passenger seat. José walked up to Mike's car and tapped on the window, which was lowered. The Texan was alone.

"You’ve come to take my sister Zaidaly to the Beautiful Country." This wasn't a question. José was just stating the facts.

"Yes." Mike sounded nervous.

"You got the five thousand dollars?"

"Yes."

"Then help me get some things out of the van."

"What? Can’t I say hi to Zaidaly first?"

"Oh you want to inspect the goods before you decide whether to accept them."

"That’s reasonable enough isn/t it?"

"Reasonable if you’re buying a horse or marijuana…" José paused dramatically, "but my sister is neither a cash crop nor an animal."

"I, I didn’t say she was…"

"Don’t insult me gringo. I have a gift for you in the back of my van. I want to show it to you before you meet my sister."

Mike couldn't look me in the eye as he walked towards the van. His gaze was cast to the ground and he followed José like a humbled school boy. I had to suppress a laugh. Mike hadn't observed me closely enough to see that I was a she-male. I shifted over to the driver's seat as José led Mike to the back of the van. I wanted to see Mike’s face in the rear view mirror when he took in the coffin. I heard the doors creak open and watched the Texan's expression turn from apprehension to outright fear and shock as he contemplated his 'present'.

"This coffin, gringo," José announced, "is for you, unless you do exactly what I say."

"Oh, oh, Okay…" Mike stammered.

"Give me the five thousand bucks," José held out his hand. He didn't bother counting the money when it was placed in his palm. "Now give me your car keys."

"But how will I get home?"

"Give me you car keys."

"But…"

"Do you want to die?"

Mike gave José his car keys.

"Now take off your clothes."

"But…"

"Do you want to die?"

Mike did as he was told. José threw the garments in the back of the van and slammed the doors shut. I turned the key in the ignition and once I'd seen José get into Mike's car, I let the clutch out and headed on down the road. José followed with 'his' new and very flash Detroit wheels. I'm certain Mike did'’t even realise I was a man, and I liked it that way, I'd enjoyed my play acting as much as José relished his macho movie derived role. I looked at the Texan as we pulled away and felt good. He was standing on that back road every bit as naked as the land around us had been left after it was plundered by the Yankee imperialists.

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