CrystalVeeyantXXX
06-08-2026, 08:44 AM
Jack Coe, an androgynous, trans-fantasizing reporter gets embedded in a CIA operation in Venezuela, only to be caught in a nighttime firefight and run away into the jungle, where he gets hopelessly lost. The next morning Jack gets a rude and terrifying awakening that will change his (?) whole life.
I woke to something hard jabbing my back, which turned out to be the muzzle of an AK-47. It was a squad of seven government soldiers, some sort of patrol. There was no love in their eyes for me.
“Up on your knees, gringo,” the oldest of them barked in Spanish, gesturing in case I didn’t understand the language.
I carefully, slowly took my knees, hands raised. “Thank God you are here,” I said in Spanish. “I got lost d—”
He shot into the ground beside me. “Shut your mouth,” he growled.
A heated discussion ensued: was I was with the rebels? They found my press credentials, but I had no actual employer and was clearly too poor to be ransomed. Talk turned to executing me and moving on.
“No-no! You don’t want to do that!” I fairly squealed en español. My voice was nearly a full octave above normal.
The leader lazily bitch-slapped me. “Shut up,” he said. “So you are an American reporter, yes?” he asked in accented English.
“Yes! Yes! I came here to do a very, very nice story about your beautiful country!” I said in Spanish in a voice still high with fear.
“You are a liar. You are with those rebels we fought last night.” He switched to Spanish. “Put the gringo against a tree and shoot him.”
“Un momento por favor, sargento,” came another voice. It was followed by the whinny of a horse.
“Good morning to you, jefe,” said the leader, practically bowing.
One of the young soldiers asked another who this was. He was told it was Don Montoya, the district leader from the jungle to the oilfields.
“I could not help hearing,” Montoya said. “A prisoner?”
“There,” the leader said, pointing at me. “American propagandist.”
Montoya looked at me in surprise. “From the trail it sounded like you had a girl here.” He dismounted for a better look at me.
“He may as well be one,” the leader snorted in disgust. “Not only is he too pretty to be a man, he acts like a little bitch.” He nodded to the soldiers who held me up to the tree. “Shoot him.”
“Do not,” Montoya said. “I have a business proposition, sergeant.”
The two of them stood in quiet conversation. Then they both began laughing. Montoya looked at me and grinned. The sergeant had his men bring me to Montoya, who ordered me in English to strip naked.
“What?” I cried in Spanish. “What do you want me to—”
He slapped me just hard enough to shut me up. “Strip right now and get on your knees,” he ordered in English, pointing in front of him. “If you do not do everything I say, I will let them shoot you.”
Soon I knelt there naked. I watched in shock and fascination and he took out an eight-inch dick. I hadn’t seen a guy’s dick since the locker room in college and even then never inches from my face.
“The life of an American hack like you is worth nothing in this country. However, you might have some value to me if you can be obedient and… uninhibited. Or you can be dead. I do not care. Suck.”
When I did nothing he took my chin. “If you don’t give me a blowjob, I will leave and…” He finished in Spanish. “Vaya con Dios.”
Blushing deeply I took his cock between my lips while the soldiers laughed and made crude comments. The flesh was sweaty and tasted faintly of the smell of pee, but it was clear Sr. Montoya bathed often.
“Oh, that is a nice mouth, Jack Coe,” he said in Spanish. “I am sure you have seen many American pornos. If you want to live, pretend you are one of those hot putas and give me a blowjob worthy of one.”
This generated a fresh round of laughter, whistling and even cruder comments from the men, who had gathered around to watch. What horrified me most was the tingling in my cock. Despite the humiliating circumstances I was getting a boner.
I tried to tune out everything except for this man’s hard cock and my blowjob. I took his dick in as deep as I could, my tongue swirled around the thick, veiny shaft. I felt the counters of his velvety soft, helmet-shaped purplish cockhead with my tongue.
The sweet flavor of precum started to make me a little crazy. Horny, actually.
I whimpered. I couldn’t help that I was suddenly turned on by this macho man’s dick in my mouth—my dick was rock hard too. For some reason I no longer cared about the soldiers. All that mattered was sucking him off and drinking his cum.
“Your instincts about sissies are good, Don Montoya,” said the leader. “This American maricón enjoys it.”
Montoya pulled out of my mouth. I whimpered in frustration. I couldn’t help it. I’d never sucked a dick before but now I wanted to.
The burly district chieftain looked fondly down at me. “I will make a lot of money with you, maricóna. But now one final test.” He spoke to the soldiers. “My countrymen, who here wants his dick sucked?”
I shuddered… with excitement.
We rode into a well-guarded beautiful villa inside stone walls, a ranch-style home befitting Beverly Hills. He untied me and allowed me to lay naked on the lawn so my body would stop aching. I’d been prepared to resume sucking him or worse, however he ignored me. Instead I lay there in the sun and relaxed, oblivious to the guards. I had surrendered to whatever my fate might be.
Don Montoya returned in the casual clothes of a rich man and carrying bottles of beer. To my surprise he handed me one. I greedily guzzled a third of it while he took my press pass out of his pocket and studied it. He looked at me, kindly. For the second time, just for an instant, I wished to suck his dick again.
“So, Jack Coe,” he said in English. “You took a big risk coming to a declared foe of America just to get a story, eh?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” I said. I instinctively stayed in the higher register—it appealed to him. I finished off my beer.
“From now on I am Papi to you. Your Papi has a great many concerns. My country’s oil industry. Supporting certain cartels. But I most love my nightclub near El Tigre. It is popular with oil workers, professionals, officials and those who trade in… provocative wares.” He looked at me. “Including human beings.”
He said, on most nights it was an ordinary bar for ordinary men. After 10:00 p.m. weeknights, female strippers and whores worked the bar and paid a commission for it. He had bungalows in back where the whores could take their johns. Papi also owned an adjacent brothel.
“Sounds like my kind of place,” I said. I was a bit tipsy now.
He laughed in delight. “Your words are truer than you know.” His eyes gleamed. “The real attraction is after midnight on Friday and all Saturday night. That’s when the very special entertainment happens. It is famous but at the same time, very discreet.”
I felt faint. “And somehow this ‘entertainment’ has to do with me?”
He grinned. “Tell me. Was I your first blowjob? And you have never been fucked?” It was a statement.
I blushed and nodded eagerly. I was afraid to speak.
“You will be superb as the star of the show. I am confident of it.”
He explained that even in heavily Catholic countries, there is a huge underground market for the maricónas—sissies—and shemales. Friday and Saturday nights catered to that audience.
“A white sissy or shemale—especially an American—draws big crowds. My former star was very popular, but when a man offered me two hundred thousand American, I could not say no.” He looked at me. “I think that maybe you can be just as sexy as she was.”
He was saying he would turn me into a sissy or a shemale. Why wasn’t that freaking me out? Was it because I had no choice but to comply? I began to think it really was because of something else.
“Would you like some clothes?” he asked solicitously.
“Oh yes, please… Papi,” I said as I knelt next to him on the lawn.
He whistled toward the house. A gorgeous sexpot came running. She had large breasts and a perfect body. She wore only a miniskirt. She handed Papi a paper bag she carried. He called her Jorgelina.
“Would you like to see your possible future, Jacqueline?” he asked. “That is going to be your new name, gringa.”
Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the girl’s skirt down to her feet. She stepped out of it. Nestled in the Latina beauty’s transparent white nylon panties was a seven-inch cock. She smiled at me and winked. Suddenly I could barely breathe, I was so stunned.
“He looks like he needs a doctor, Papi,” she giggled.
“Why don’t you give him mouth-to-mouth,” he suggested.
She knelt, straddling me, with her large, flaccid cock pressing into my belly and gave me an openmouthed kiss. My cock sprang up again.
She broke the kiss. “Papi, his clitty is getting very hard!”
“Excellent!” he cried, helping her up. He picked up her skirt and she deftly caught it. He swatted her ass playfully. “Back to work!”
He dumped out the: sheer white panties, bra, and white pumps. I put them on without prompting. My boner tented the panties as I knelt again.
“I think you will enjoy your future,” he laughed. He reached into his pocket for a satellite phone and dialed. He switched back to Spanish and fired a rapid burst at me: “Your Spanish seems quite exceptional for a gringo. Would you say you are fluent in it?” he asked. “Translate what I just said into English, word for word.”
He grinned wider when I did so. “Perfect. You are even more valuable.” He held up a finger to me and spoke into the phone. “Pablo! Chingon!” he laughed. “How goes it? … Good! So, my old friend, I have a present I think you are going to love. When can you get here?”
He hung up and beckoned me to rise. His strong arm around my waist made me giddy with excitement… and horny for him! I couldn’t understand why I was reacting this way. Not that it mattered any longer.
“Come with me into the house, Jacqueline. Pablo will not be here for a few hours, so you’ll have time for a bath, some breakfast and perhaps a little nap. You may need it.”
"Jackie of the Jungle" is one of several mini-novellas in my newest erotica anthology T-GIRL TALES (books 6-9) that was just released on my Amazon bookshelf. Search Amazon for Crystal Veeyant (http://amazon.com/author/crystal-veeyant) to read more from this book for free and see the numerous other trans erotica books I've published.
I woke to something hard jabbing my back, which turned out to be the muzzle of an AK-47. It was a squad of seven government soldiers, some sort of patrol. There was no love in their eyes for me.
“Up on your knees, gringo,” the oldest of them barked in Spanish, gesturing in case I didn’t understand the language.
I carefully, slowly took my knees, hands raised. “Thank God you are here,” I said in Spanish. “I got lost d—”
He shot into the ground beside me. “Shut your mouth,” he growled.
A heated discussion ensued: was I was with the rebels? They found my press credentials, but I had no actual employer and was clearly too poor to be ransomed. Talk turned to executing me and moving on.
“No-no! You don’t want to do that!” I fairly squealed en español. My voice was nearly a full octave above normal.
The leader lazily bitch-slapped me. “Shut up,” he said. “So you are an American reporter, yes?” he asked in accented English.
“Yes! Yes! I came here to do a very, very nice story about your beautiful country!” I said in Spanish in a voice still high with fear.
“You are a liar. You are with those rebels we fought last night.” He switched to Spanish. “Put the gringo against a tree and shoot him.”
“Un momento por favor, sargento,” came another voice. It was followed by the whinny of a horse.
“Good morning to you, jefe,” said the leader, practically bowing.
One of the young soldiers asked another who this was. He was told it was Don Montoya, the district leader from the jungle to the oilfields.
“I could not help hearing,” Montoya said. “A prisoner?”
“There,” the leader said, pointing at me. “American propagandist.”
Montoya looked at me in surprise. “From the trail it sounded like you had a girl here.” He dismounted for a better look at me.
“He may as well be one,” the leader snorted in disgust. “Not only is he too pretty to be a man, he acts like a little bitch.” He nodded to the soldiers who held me up to the tree. “Shoot him.”
“Do not,” Montoya said. “I have a business proposition, sergeant.”
The two of them stood in quiet conversation. Then they both began laughing. Montoya looked at me and grinned. The sergeant had his men bring me to Montoya, who ordered me in English to strip naked.
“What?” I cried in Spanish. “What do you want me to—”
He slapped me just hard enough to shut me up. “Strip right now and get on your knees,” he ordered in English, pointing in front of him. “If you do not do everything I say, I will let them shoot you.”
Soon I knelt there naked. I watched in shock and fascination and he took out an eight-inch dick. I hadn’t seen a guy’s dick since the locker room in college and even then never inches from my face.
“The life of an American hack like you is worth nothing in this country. However, you might have some value to me if you can be obedient and… uninhibited. Or you can be dead. I do not care. Suck.”
When I did nothing he took my chin. “If you don’t give me a blowjob, I will leave and…” He finished in Spanish. “Vaya con Dios.”
Blushing deeply I took his cock between my lips while the soldiers laughed and made crude comments. The flesh was sweaty and tasted faintly of the smell of pee, but it was clear Sr. Montoya bathed often.
“Oh, that is a nice mouth, Jack Coe,” he said in Spanish. “I am sure you have seen many American pornos. If you want to live, pretend you are one of those hot putas and give me a blowjob worthy of one.”
This generated a fresh round of laughter, whistling and even cruder comments from the men, who had gathered around to watch. What horrified me most was the tingling in my cock. Despite the humiliating circumstances I was getting a boner.
I tried to tune out everything except for this man’s hard cock and my blowjob. I took his dick in as deep as I could, my tongue swirled around the thick, veiny shaft. I felt the counters of his velvety soft, helmet-shaped purplish cockhead with my tongue.
The sweet flavor of precum started to make me a little crazy. Horny, actually.
I whimpered. I couldn’t help that I was suddenly turned on by this macho man’s dick in my mouth—my dick was rock hard too. For some reason I no longer cared about the soldiers. All that mattered was sucking him off and drinking his cum.
“Your instincts about sissies are good, Don Montoya,” said the leader. “This American maricón enjoys it.”
Montoya pulled out of my mouth. I whimpered in frustration. I couldn’t help it. I’d never sucked a dick before but now I wanted to.
The burly district chieftain looked fondly down at me. “I will make a lot of money with you, maricóna. But now one final test.” He spoke to the soldiers. “My countrymen, who here wants his dick sucked?”
I shuddered… with excitement.
We rode into a well-guarded beautiful villa inside stone walls, a ranch-style home befitting Beverly Hills. He untied me and allowed me to lay naked on the lawn so my body would stop aching. I’d been prepared to resume sucking him or worse, however he ignored me. Instead I lay there in the sun and relaxed, oblivious to the guards. I had surrendered to whatever my fate might be.
Don Montoya returned in the casual clothes of a rich man and carrying bottles of beer. To my surprise he handed me one. I greedily guzzled a third of it while he took my press pass out of his pocket and studied it. He looked at me, kindly. For the second time, just for an instant, I wished to suck his dick again.
“So, Jack Coe,” he said in English. “You took a big risk coming to a declared foe of America just to get a story, eh?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” I said. I instinctively stayed in the higher register—it appealed to him. I finished off my beer.
“From now on I am Papi to you. Your Papi has a great many concerns. My country’s oil industry. Supporting certain cartels. But I most love my nightclub near El Tigre. It is popular with oil workers, professionals, officials and those who trade in… provocative wares.” He looked at me. “Including human beings.”
He said, on most nights it was an ordinary bar for ordinary men. After 10:00 p.m. weeknights, female strippers and whores worked the bar and paid a commission for it. He had bungalows in back where the whores could take their johns. Papi also owned an adjacent brothel.
“Sounds like my kind of place,” I said. I was a bit tipsy now.
He laughed in delight. “Your words are truer than you know.” His eyes gleamed. “The real attraction is after midnight on Friday and all Saturday night. That’s when the very special entertainment happens. It is famous but at the same time, very discreet.”
I felt faint. “And somehow this ‘entertainment’ has to do with me?”
He grinned. “Tell me. Was I your first blowjob? And you have never been fucked?” It was a statement.
I blushed and nodded eagerly. I was afraid to speak.
“You will be superb as the star of the show. I am confident of it.”
He explained that even in heavily Catholic countries, there is a huge underground market for the maricónas—sissies—and shemales. Friday and Saturday nights catered to that audience.
“A white sissy or shemale—especially an American—draws big crowds. My former star was very popular, but when a man offered me two hundred thousand American, I could not say no.” He looked at me. “I think that maybe you can be just as sexy as she was.”
He was saying he would turn me into a sissy or a shemale. Why wasn’t that freaking me out? Was it because I had no choice but to comply? I began to think it really was because of something else.
“Would you like some clothes?” he asked solicitously.
“Oh yes, please… Papi,” I said as I knelt next to him on the lawn.
He whistled toward the house. A gorgeous sexpot came running. She had large breasts and a perfect body. She wore only a miniskirt. She handed Papi a paper bag she carried. He called her Jorgelina.
“Would you like to see your possible future, Jacqueline?” he asked. “That is going to be your new name, gringa.”
Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the girl’s skirt down to her feet. She stepped out of it. Nestled in the Latina beauty’s transparent white nylon panties was a seven-inch cock. She smiled at me and winked. Suddenly I could barely breathe, I was so stunned.
“He looks like he needs a doctor, Papi,” she giggled.
“Why don’t you give him mouth-to-mouth,” he suggested.
She knelt, straddling me, with her large, flaccid cock pressing into my belly and gave me an openmouthed kiss. My cock sprang up again.
She broke the kiss. “Papi, his clitty is getting very hard!”
“Excellent!” he cried, helping her up. He picked up her skirt and she deftly caught it. He swatted her ass playfully. “Back to work!”
He dumped out the: sheer white panties, bra, and white pumps. I put them on without prompting. My boner tented the panties as I knelt again.
“I think you will enjoy your future,” he laughed. He reached into his pocket for a satellite phone and dialed. He switched back to Spanish and fired a rapid burst at me: “Your Spanish seems quite exceptional for a gringo. Would you say you are fluent in it?” he asked. “Translate what I just said into English, word for word.”
He grinned wider when I did so. “Perfect. You are even more valuable.” He held up a finger to me and spoke into the phone. “Pablo! Chingon!” he laughed. “How goes it? … Good! So, my old friend, I have a present I think you are going to love. When can you get here?”
He hung up and beckoned me to rise. His strong arm around my waist made me giddy with excitement… and horny for him! I couldn’t understand why I was reacting this way. Not that it mattered any longer.
“Come with me into the house, Jacqueline. Pablo will not be here for a few hours, so you’ll have time for a bath, some breakfast and perhaps a little nap. You may need it.”
"Jackie of the Jungle" is one of several mini-novellas in my newest erotica anthology T-GIRL TALES (books 6-9) that was just released on my Amazon bookshelf. Search Amazon for Crystal Veeyant (http://amazon.com/author/crystal-veeyant) to read more from this book for free and see the numerous other trans erotica books I've published.