Daddy's Girl Pt. 01

All names and characters in this story are fictional and have no connection with any actual person living or dead.

*****

Call me Antonio, at least that's what my parents named me. Born and raised in Monterrey, northern Mexico. Dad was a contractor who supplied labor for the nearby cotton fields. He was a tough guy who loved his soccer, beer and tequila, while mother was a devout Catholic. I had two sisters and two brothers. Lived an upper-middle-class existence; nice home in nice neighborhood.

There was only one fly in the ointment in this pleasant existence (where we went to Catholic school in uniforms and to church twice a week) - and that was my lack of attraction to traditional male pursuits. Even as young as four or five, I preferred to play with dolls and girls, rather than joining the rough-and-tumble activities of my brothers. This didn't escape my dad's notice, but he didn't say much at the time. I suspect my mom told him I was just "pasando por una fase" (going through a phase).

But as I grew up, and my desire to wear dresses and grow my hair long didn't go away, I was soon the black sheep of the family. My parents wouldn't take me to social functions because of my effeminateness, my brothers teased me, and at school the shower room was a holy terror. My dad had a doctor check me out to see if I had some physical or mental anomaly.

As I reached my teens, I overheard my classmates referring to me as a monstruo (freak). If I sound nonchalant in describing this, I'm not. I was extremely unhappy and kept asking God why he created me this way.

My parents put up with me until I graduated from high school. And then, instead of sending me off to college like my brothers and sisters, I was sent out into the world with a few pesos and without even a "bueno suerte" ("good luck"). Well, I did find a job as a mannikin dresser in an upscale department store downtown, thanks to the gay hiring person who took a shine to me (or felt sorry for me).

Suddenly I was coming into my own, and I made displays that attracted attention, both from shoppers and my bosses. I was making good money. I had my own apartment. While my brothers and sisters dealt with years of college, I was already well-set.

And now I could express myself more. Away from work, I began wearing dresses and other feminine attire, and by checking out certain bars or clubs, I was able to meet others in the transgenero (transgender) world. For the first time in my memory, I was truly happy - except for the excommunication from my family. At the same time, I was inevitably introduced to the gay scene in town, and the three underground bars that catered to gays. Cute guys came on to me, but I guess my religious upbringing held me back from sex. Another thing I avoided was the drugs that some of the people were into.

And so, after work I would often drift into one of these places that the proper people of Monterrey probably never knew about. There, we could dance to the latest music, and there would be an occasional drag show, and contests for this or that.

About this time, a new mayor was elected on a platform of morality and family values. One day a reporter asked him if he was going to do anything about the "gay scourge," and the mayor was put on the spot. The newspaper started a campaign of badgering him, accusing him of false promises. I didn't take this very seriously, because I knew the club owners paid off the cops.

Nonetheless, one night the cops raided Palacio Priscilla when I was there, in a dress, wearing makeup, nylons, bra and stilettos. I was summarily hauled off to jail. I didn't even bother to ask my parents to post bail. My world came crashing down. So this was the wages of my sin, of presuming I could be the person I really was inside.

After two weeks of being in a downtown holding cell with gays and trans people, a judge decided to send me to Topo Chico, the city's prison, for three years. Three years! And I had lost my wonderful job. I had heard the stories about prison rapes and violence and I was terrified, so I was so glad when I could get out of my feminine attire and slip into prison garb. Now I had to make every effort to appear as regular as possible.

Naturally, one just can't kill every aspect of one's being, and when I was put in a cell with a swarthy, convicted bank robber twenty years older than me, at night he'd try to slip into my bed, and I would push him away. He'd say stuff like, "Antonio, Antonia, don't you want a manly man with a big dick to show you a good time?"

And I'd say, "You've got me all wrong, estupido, I'm not gay and I'm not interested."

This went on and on, nearly every night, and pretty soon others were egging him at mealtime.

One day, my extremely dull daily route was interrupted when I was taken to a plain room where a video camera was set up. I wanted to ask the reason, but didn't because I wasn't about to rock the boat. They sat me down and had me brush my hair before the camera's "on" light turned green, and a man in civilian clothes began asking me questions. They were innocuous, and the guard standing at the door was bored. After the camera was turned off, the questioner said something like, "Podría haber una oportunidad para ti." ("There could be an opportunity for you.") I wondered what this meant.

After a week more of unwanted advances from the bank robber (I couldn't have kept him at bay much longer; he was wearing me down, and besides I myself was getting horny) - three guards came to escort me to a room where I was served a better lunch than usual, then given a coat and handcuffed and inserted into the back seat of a newish sedan. I didn't know whether to be worried or exuberant, but I suspected the video interview had something to do with the developments. As before, I acted meek and obedient and didn't say a thing unless I was asked. As we drove through Monterrey, the driver and guard joked about my being a caso especial (special case) because of my feminine tendencies. They laughingly asked me if I wanted to stop to buy some panties and nylons. One said he regretted not having some lipstick with him. They weren't any different than the bank robber.

I found myself driven to the airport and escorted into a smallish, drab-colored department of prisons airplane. I was then handcuffed to a seat. Several important prison officers were making the flight with me. After we took off, I was served a take-out meal which I had to eat with one hand. The officers laughed at that. When we landed several hours later, I asked where we were.

"Culiacan," was the reply. I knew that Culiacan wasn't far from the Pacific Ocean and was north of the resort city of Mazatlan. I had never traveled that far away from home in my entire life.

I was then driven to the Aguarato Prison outside of town, which I'd never heard of. It was warmer there than in Monterrey. I was treated somewhat better than before, didn't have to share a cell, and didn't have to share showers or the exercise yard. In fact, I didn't have to wear the prison jumpsuit, but rather wore civilian clothes. The guards treated me with deference. But no one explained why I'd been transferred and what was in store for me.

That lasted for a couple weeks, before I was taken to the family-visit building where I sat down in a private room with a young man with an air of impatience and importance.

He introduced himself as the representative of "un hombre importante" ("an important man") who wanted to make me an offer.

"We have worked with the prison authorities to offer you a parole, if you consent to be the personal secretary to a man who will remain unnamed," he said, not wasting any time. "I assume you would prefer this to the prison life?"

I was astounded, but suspicious, knowing full well about police bribery and Mexican men's adventurism. I saw the connection between the video and what was happening. And yet, did I have a choice?

When I said yes, some guards smirked at me as I was led back to my cell. One called me Antonia, and another complimented my nice butt.

Two weeks later, I was led into a processing room where the same young man waited. I had to sign some probation papers, and the prison guy said he wasn't going to give me the usual 700 pesos upon release, "Because you won't need it where you're going."

I was then driven south to Mazatlan. There I saw a real, honest-to-God busy city again, with happy people shopping, enjoying restaurants, and having fun with kids! My whole being was elevated to happiness for the first time in months, and there was hope in my heart that my life might return somewhat to normalcy.

I felt emboldened to ask this young man driving a white American SUV what the man was like that I might be serving.

"You will meet him probably tomorrow," he said. "Just be on your best behavior. I don't know your past, but don't try anything funny. You are very lucky we arranged your release; you should be extremely grateful for this."

On that note, I was driven to a compound perhaps 10 kilometers outside town, in a forested, hilly area. Big wooden gates opened when my driver punched in a code, and he said, "Welcome to Cumbre del Pavo Real [Peacock Summit], Antonio - or Antonia, whatever you prefer to be called."

Of course, this little revelation that my feminine tendencies were known set off a couple alarm bells. But beyond the worries that this raised, I was also very curious and even a little excited. What if my brothers and sisters could see me now!

As we drove into a courtyard with a central pool and fountain, there were indeed several noisy peacocks strutting about in the dust. I spotted several children playing, an elderly nanny or two, and several idle young men with pistols in holsters. Inside the two-story white villa with tile roof, several attractive women eyed me as my driver escorted me to a room. "Take a shower, and get dressed with the clothing left for you, and then go to the dining room and ask for a meal," he instructed.

"Thank you," I replied politely. I wondered if I would be thanking him in the future.

Alone now, I looked at the clothing left for me - all of the proper fit, I must say. There was silky male underwear that resembled panties, stretchy tight white jeans, and a thin, rather transparent short-sleeved shirt with a palm motif. I felt very conspicuous wearing this outfit as I went to eat, but my hunger overcame my embarrassment.

I returned to my room, watched a movie on TV and went to sleep for the night. The suspense was killing me! The next morning, even before I was out of bed, the same young man knocked and came in, and said I was going to meet my boss in an hour, and "to make yourself look good."

"But I haven't even had a proper haircut," I protested.

"No time for that," he answered. "You look clean enough."

At precisely 9:30 I was escorted to the second level of the villa, as sunlight streamed in through windows and the air was fresh and cool.

In a grand room with dark wooden beams overhead and bookcases full of important-looking books, I was brought to an oversized desk where a middle-aged man was scanning two computer screens.

"Senor Gros, I want you to meet Antonio, from Monterrey, whom we rescued from prison."

"That's Eduardo," the seated man said suavely, turning to face me. "Please sit down, Antonio. Let's talk." He smiled broadly. My escort left the room and closed the door behind him.

Eduardo was wearing a tight, dark-blue T-shirt, and had a healthy shock of dark brown hair; deep-set, intense blue eyes and a short semi-curly beard. He appeared to be in top physical shape and his voice was rather deep, and very confident.

He looked me over and didn't waste any time getting to the point, which is a little unusual among Mexican men. "Antonio, I know more about you than you probably realize," he said with a smile. "Your family kicked you out, right? But you made a name for yourself in the retail trade anyway. You were picked up during a morals sweep dressed as a woman, and sentenced."

He showed me a couple photos that had been lying on his desk. The first - it must've been posted on the Internet somewhere - showed me arm-in-arms with some other boi-girls in one of the bars. I have to admit I looked quite fetching - and was having a fun time. The next image was a booking mug shot taken when I was arrested. My makeup was smeared and I looked tired.

"It's too bad the Puritans get a bug up their ass sometimes and start messing with minorities," he said.

"I was happy before all that came down," I admitted. "I am who I am."

"Well, I think you looked quite attractive in your happy days," said Eduardo. "Now, let me fill you in. First of all, I run a large enterprise with connections all over Mexico. I always prefer to have a private secretary who's a trans person. I want them to live as women. The previous one - and we always find them via the prison system, and more or less rescue them - grew too old for my tastes, and we parted ways. Now, you are young and smart and good-looking and have the feminine attributes I seek.

"Here's what you would be doing, should you accept the job. You would be monitoring and maintaining my schedule. You would build contacts among the press, and make sure they talk about me - if at all - in a good light. You would help me set up trips. And you would sometimes be a buffer between me and my wives; yes, I have two here, along with five children. Sometimes you would accompany me on trips. And other and sundry things that come up."

"If I may be so bold, what sort of business are you in," I asked.

"Businesses," he corrected me. "I trade in raw commodities, own a large restaurant downtown, and play the international stock and bond markets."

Somehow, after having seen the two men with pistols in the courtyard earlier, I deduced that the "raw commodities" could include illegal drugs.

"There is one other thing," he added. "and I hope this doesn't dismay you, or shock you. But I have a thing for men-as-women. I love my wives dearly and very much enjoy sex with them, but a part of me - and I really don't see myself even as bisexual or gay - is attracted to women with dicks. It's a wild, uncontrollable urge in me that needs to be satisfied from time to time."

I began to look at him in a new light. The whole picture now came clearly into focus. I had never had sex with anyone before. I'd never gone beyond kissing. Would this guy be the one to introduce me to it? Could I like him enough to give myself over to him? Would it be like prostitution, or could it be pleasurable? I liked his appearance and confidence, certainly. I liked his youngish, mellow, soothing voice.

"Well, I'm glad you brought this up as part of the job interview." I laughed a little, as did he. "It beats my cellmate at Topo Chico prison who kept trying to crawl into bed with me. But you need to know that I have very little sexual experience with anyone, due perhaps to my religious upbringing. So I don't know that I could make you happy in a way you wish."

"I actually prefer that," said Eduardo. "I would prefer a virgin, so to speak. And I am not an impatient, rapist type."

"I am willing to learn from you," I said.

"Be aware that my wives will probably be a little jealous of you, and may see you as a competitor for my attention. They do know about my relations with my private secretary. ... Now, here's how we can proceed. I have a live-in house manager here named Maria Luisa. You need to buy your feminine clothing and other needs downtown. She will accompany you and direct you to the best stores, and give you some advice, like where to have your hair done. You will need to become more womanlike. And, can we call you Antonia?"

"Yes, that seems to be what everyone calls me, and I'm comfortable with that. ... I must thank you for being so helpful to me; I am really in great debt to you, Eduardo."

"De nada, Antonia. You seem capable and likeable, and of course, attractive. I'm sure we'll have a rewarding relationship."

Maria Luisa proved to be a very nice, helpful, pleasant woman. Petite, she was in her late fifties, but still kept a nice figure. She knew all the ins and outs of makeup, and more than a few tricks about helping a guy pass as a woman. And on the other hand, she could be persuasive and authoritative.

It was fun to go shopping with her, in the best parts of town. He disfrutado mucho! For the first time in my life, I possessed really nice, sexy, high-class panties and bras. And shoes. And dresses, and pants, and tights. And several flowing, long-hair wigs to use until my hair grew out enough. The sky was the limit. Some things I chose, but it was more often Maria Luisa, who knew Eduardo's tastes, who picked the items. At our final stop on our third day of shopping, we picked up some plain and some quite provocative nightgowns. When I had to try things on for fit, Maria Luisa arranged for us to go into a store's back room, away from the other shoppers.

I joked to her on the last day, "When do we get my wedding gown?" - because I'd always wanted to wear one.

"In your dreams," she pithily replied.

On our way back to the compound, she probably did something she wasn't supposed to. We dropped by to visit Eduardo's former secretary, a trans person perhaps in her late 30s who went by the name of Lupita. We were introduced. Lupita gave me the once-over, and said, "So you are the latest ... Well, I had a good time with Eduardo over seven years, and harbor no bad feelings. Especially since he helps me out a little financially. Now, Antonia, I could tell you all sorts of things about Eduardo, but that's not my place, and you will grow accustomed to him over time."

Lupita looked very womanly and had all the right curves. Only her deeper voice hinted at her male DNA.

On the way back to the compound, Maria Luisa told me that Lupita had had breast and hip enhancements, but not because Eduardo insisted. "It was all Lupita's doing; she wanted these things."

"So I could have them too if I wanted?"

"If everything works out between you and the boss, yes."

"Well, I don't know if I'd want to go that far, but it's nice to know I could."

Back at the compound, Maria Luisa really took me under her wing and did a wonderful job removing my rough edges and enabling me to fully flower into Antonia. So - Antonia it was, 24-7. I tried to cultivate relations with the two wives, and they were resigned to the arrangement, but remained distant. Finally, I became closer to them by sketching them and their kids, which they loved. And sometimes I babysat for them, which they always appreciated.

For several months, my relationship with Eduardo was almost entirely professional. I did the tasks he'd laid out for me to the best of my ability. He gave me a daily kiss on the cheek and hug when home, and often complimented me on my "muy sexy" appearance. That lit me up, for sure.

Finally, he told me he was taking me along on a trip to Guadalajara. We drove in two white SUVs with what I guessed were bulletproof windows. The lead vehicle had four guys, and I'd seen them load some potent-looking guns. In our car was Eduardo, the driver, me and another young man with a concealed weapon.

I wore the same tight, white jeans that had been left for me when I first arrived at Peacock Summit, with my modest prick stowed away out of sight with a gaff. My long-hair wig flowed beautifully down over my shoulders. My lipstick and shoes were of the come-hither variety and I wore an off-the-shoulder half-sleeved blouse that showed off my faux tits to maximum effect.

I asked no questions. Eduardo and the young men chatted easily, and I noticed that with them, his voice turned coarse and was full of expletives.

In my two smallish suitcases was plenty of feminine finery and lingerie, and a makeup kit. Maria Luisa had advised me on exactly what to take, and had even given me a small bottle of the perfume she said Eduardo liked.