Gunpoint

The worst thing I could ever imagine happened last night. Around eleven, armed hooded men crept through our gorgeous new group home. They woke everyone except my foster sister and me, who stayed up late.

Our foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Ortiz, took older teens no couples wanted to adopt. One of us had dependency problems abuse, another had runaway issues, and one had an arrest record. We loved our parents for giving us hope for a good two years until we turned eighteen.

I had trouble sleeping, and so did Maryanne, a foster sister with whom had grown close.

We had insomnia in this spectacular home built for a group foster situation. We moved in last week, and it still had the new house smell from the caulking, sealant, and carpet in our bedrooms. The social workers bragged about our new foster home. The mayor and his staff even toured it. Construction had finished four weeks before our parents closed on it.

Maryanne texted me to meet her.

The boys four bedrooms faced a public area in a semi-circle they called a “bay.” We had a sofa, a chair, and our shower and bath joined the bay, too. So, I stepped into the hall from the boy’s bay to talk to her.

“This new place is amazing, right? The hallway has a balcony overlooking the living room,” I said. Maryanne and I leaned and put our forearms on the balcony rail.

“It’s a mansion compared to our old house. But we’re still us; we brought the same baggage with us, right?” Maryanne said with a laugh. I’m short, so Maryanne and I stood about the same height, with me a little taller. She had long chestnut hair and dark eyes. “At least I have a room to myself, and I can lock it. Chi still steals everything she can put in her purse, and I’m sure Recine still deals molly and coke.”

I looked both ways and over my shoulder to ensure no one wandered the hall. We both wore pajamas, following the rules to cover skin.

I talked low. “That would not surprise me about Recine.” I smiled, and she nodded, and we paused in thought for a moment.

I had dated girls during school over a year ago, the fall of my junior year, but I could never get that chemistry going. Girls liked me, but we couldn’t connect on a level deeper than makeup, hair, dress, and how well we danced together. I kissed two different girls my junior year, but sparks never flew.

Depression had come over me, and my usual bubbly disposition had disappeared. I had become reflective and taciturn during the months leading to the summer. Maryanne worried about me, and we talked for hours into the night. She helped me work out my feelings about being gay and the woman inside me.

“You know what’s strange is that I am more comfortable being a woman than I ever was as a man. I’ve fantasized of making love to a man, but I’ve never even kissed one.”

Maryanne giggled. “You are a girl, Lucas, and you know more about applying makeup and lengthening lashes than I do. Your long, silky, light brown hair is to die for. You’re chiseled brows match your brown eyes, and you have full lips with a rounded cupid’s bow.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“Your full lips are rare on a boy. I’m not calling you a boy, mind you; I respect that you’re transitioning now. But I can see why girls wanted to kiss you before.”

“I get you, and I don’t mind talking to you about being a boy. You knew me back then. And you’re right about the girls. They told me I had soft lips.”

“And now you have a butt that puts them to shame. I wish I had your butt! Mine’s as wide as this hall. You’re beautiful, Lucas, but you need more confidence. Any man would turn his head when you walk past.”

“Thank you. I’ve transitioned enough to change my name, so I’ve decided to call myself Lucy. Is that a dumb choice? I like it. It’s cute.”

“Lucy! It fits you. It’s a great name,” Maryanne said.

“Thanks, and thanks for saying I’m beautiful. I’ve had wonderful results with my hormone replacement therapy. I’m ready to show myself to the world as a woman. I’m lucky to have Mother and Father Ortiz. Months ago, they met with my therapist and we agreed to start feminizing. My doctor said that it disadvantaged me since I went through puberty as a boy. Still, the sooner I could start feminizing, the better. He gave me Aldactone back in April last year after I turned seventeen in February.”

“Aldactone?”

“It’s an androgen blocker, the hormone that makes boys’ voices deep and whiskers on their faces and necks. The blocker paves the way to begin estrogen therapy, which I started this past June.”

“This is January, so you’ve been on estrogen for over six months. I can’t believe you kept it a secret for so long. Who’s paying for this, and are you going to take this all the way and have reassignment surgery?”

“You know that the state pays for our healthcare, and I’m lucky we live in a progressive state. No, I’m keeping my penis right now to answer your second question. I’ve seen pictures of constructed vulvas, and they scared me. The surgeons don’t have it right yet, and besides, surgery is a couple of years from now anyway.”

“Why so long?”

“The doctor and therapist met with Mother, Father, and me. My therapist recommended that I live as a woman for a while before considering surgery. Plus, he said I must continue HRT while I do. He also sent me to a vocal pathologist to help me feminize my speech. I’m glad I’m doing this because my gender dysphoria is improving. I am much more comfortable in my skin than when you and I met.”

“That’s where you go all the time! Why didn’t you tell me when you started the treatments? We don’t keep secrets! Anyway, all this therapy is good news, and welcome to womanhood, Lucy.”

“Thank you, Maryanne, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you about the therapy at first because I worried it wouldn’t affect me, you know, that it wouldn’t take. But it’s working! I don’t grow whiskers anymore, and my body has become softer and curvier, and as you said, I have an amazing butt!” I twisted around and presented Maryanne my ass. She giggled. “I’ve got boobs coming in, too. I’ve always had a little extra body fat, so I’m hoping for well-shaped ones!” I cupped my hands under my breasts and gave them a lift.

“I’m happy for you, Lucy, but body fat? No, Lucy. You are thin as a rail, and I need to take you bra shopping. I’d let you go through my drawer, but my bras are much too big for you.” Maryanne had big boobs.

“I’m skinny?”

Maryanne lifted my arm, smiled, and her fist encircled my wrist. “I wish I had your body! I’m fat.”

“No! You look in the mirror and see your natural breasts and curvy hips. That’s not fat; it’s husband catchers!”

Maryanne laughed. As we stood on the balcony laughing, a commotion came from the rec room underneath us where we couldn’t see. Mother cried out, and Father yelled, “Don’t hurt her!”

“What the heck’s going on?” I asked.

Maryanne ran to the stairs, and I followed. We ran halfway down the stairs in time to see Mother and Father taken to the basement door beside the rec room door. A man in a ski mask and carrying a gun made them do it! That first-floor hallway leads to the kitchen past the basement door.

“Men with guns!” Maryanne said wide-eyed.

Two armed men wearing ski masks came bounding up the stairs and met us. They pointed guns at us, and we stopped at once. The two men pushed us back upstairs, and we went into the boys’ and girls’ bays to roust my siblings.

Two men wearing black ski masks took us downstairs and gathered us in the rec room around the card tables. The masked men checked our pajama pockets for cell phones.

“Good!” a tall, broad-shouldered man said. “We have them all, four girls and three boys. You will remove your sleeping clothes down to your underthings.” He spoke with a foreign accent.

“I will not!” Chi said. A kidnapper stepped to the small Asian girl and, without a word, backhanded her. She cried out and fell to the floor.

“The next one who refuses gets kneecapped!” he said, pointing the gun at our legs. The tall man approached the man who hit Chi and threw a fist into his gut. The man let out an “oof, and bent, holding his middle.

“What did I tell you all about striking the kids?” the tall man asked. He looked around at the men, and they said nothing. “The next man who strikes one of them will get more!”

“I’m not wearing a bra. Let me keep my pajama shirt!” Chi said, looking up from the floor and crying. She sobbed and put her hand on her head.

“You can’t make us go topless. At least let us wear our pajama tops,” Recine said.

One ski-masked man holding a handgun came from the basement door. He told the big man he had tied up our foster mother and father with rope, back-to-back like the boss told him to. I surmised the big blond man was the boss.

He had tied them beside the washers and dryers, gagged them, and left them there. The big blond man approved. “It is my plan that they will untie each other, but not until we get far away. Okay! The girls can wear the pajama tops, but the bottoms come off! We will take the boys out first. Off with the sleeping clothes! Now!”

I stood with the girls, and the boss man stepped to me. “What are you doing, pretty boy?”

“I’m a transgender woman,” I said.

“Fuck that shit. That make-believe shit doesn’t work here. You have a cock, so get over there with the boys where you belong!”

“She has breasts and should wear the pajama top!” Maryanne said. “Can’t you see she’s a girl? Let Lucy stay with us!”

Hearing Maryanne defend me touched my heart. My lip quivered, and my eyes stung with tears. I turned to the big man. “Can I wear my top, please?”

He faced me. “I’ve done my homework, and you are not a girl. Your name is Lucas, and it will stay Lucas, and you will do as I tell you, boy, is that clear?” The big man spoke with an accent that I couldn’t make out. It could have been Eastern European. I nodded, pouting and looking at my shoes. My long hair covered my face, and I strolled to the boys’ group.

The kidnappers watched us while we removed our pajamas. Raul and Greg were seventeen years old, and I would turn eighteen in a month. I wore my cornflower blue bikini panties, and my two brothers sported boxer shorts.

The men laughed at my panties, so did my brothers while we walked to the back door. I tiptoed along and cupped my hands over my budding breasts and puffy areolas. “I want to keep my top!” I said, sniffling.

“Shut up and move!” one man said.

We exited the back door, and the iced paving stones froze our feet. We trotted on tiptoes to the driveway and around a van, and they made us wait. We shivered beside the long white van with the motor idling. But they would not let us inside yet.

They brought my four foster sisters in panties and pajama tops. Chi and Emma were sixteen, and Recine and Maryanne were seventeen. The kidnappers took them to the van but further toward the rear, and they huddled close against the cold.

Each man had their pistols in hand and pointed at us, and the tall boss man pulled off his black ski mask. I couldn’t figure out why he did it. Now I could give the police a description of him.

“This is hilly countryside. No one can see us here in the driveway behind the van.” The big man stood over six feet and had a square jaw and blond hair falling over his ears. He didn’t mind waving his gun to intimidate us.

But his stature and good looks interested me!

Escaping topped my list, though, and I should think about getting horny some other time. I whisper-shouted at the girls’ group. “Maryanne, you all help us think how to escape.”

“No duh, queer-bait,” Recine said. The tall, athletic Black girl stood five-eleven and was a high school senior like me. She played on the women’s basketball team.

But she didn’t like me and didn’t speak to me outside the house. I admired her, though. She came up rough, living homeless for a long time, beating the odds, and going back to school.

Then the kidnappers lined up to the front wearing nice warm parkas while we shivered. They removed their ski masks, too. It struck us as odd, and we glanced at one another. Do they plan to kill us?

“Getting you cold is part of our plan. You will not want to run naked in this freezing weather, and you would not get far before hypothermia!” the big blond boss said. He laughed and vapor puffed out his mouth. “Now, stay quiet until I say to load you!” I became certain his accent was Eastern European.

“Why is he doing this?” I asked out loud, still cupping my breasts. “Why did they show us their faces?”

Maryanne nodded toward the boss. “Look out, sweetie; he’s coming for you.”

I didn’t have time to turn around. The boss man snatched my arm, taking me from the boy’s group. I tried to glare at him to show him I wasn’t afraid, but I shook all over from fear as much as the cold and diverted my eyes. He got close to my face, smiling, and smelling like whiskey.

“You’re a pretty, girly-faced boy who wears some lipstick and plucks his brows, right? I smell your perfume. Hey men! Look how skinny his arms are! Thin limbs mean you have a long cock. Do you have a long cock, lovely boy?”

“He has little titties, Jaco!” one man said.

“I’m transitioning!” I blurted out as if it would save me.

His men laughed and called me a queer and a faggot. It frustrated me and made me feel like high school, but it was nothing I hadn’t heard before. It shocked me that these men never matured. High school name-calling never bothered me.

“He’s a little powder puff, poof boy, Jaco!” one man said. “He should wear a dress!” another man shouted. He didn’t know I had many dresses in my closet.

The big square-jawed boss man gripped my chin and turned my face up to his. With his free hand, he motioned to his man. The man trotted to him. “Let’s see how long his cock is!” the boss, Jaco, said. They called him Jaco.

My siblings stared at me.

The man who trotted over wiggled my panties to my ankles. The boss turned me around to face my foster brothers and sisters, and he laughed. They got a good look at my naked body.

“Pretty boy has a long cock, and he’s slick and soft as a porpoise! And he still has his foreskin!” His men laughed.

The big blond man unzipped his pants, dug inside, and pulled out his long, uncut cock. His lengthy cock fell past his crotch seam, and golden pubic hairs stuck out the zipper.

He motioned, and his men came and forced me down by my shoulders, and I squatted with my panties around my ankles. Now I understood what he wanted. A man had never even kissed me, and now he wanted fellatio from me. I didn’t know how!

“Open up those sexy, puffy lips, pretty boy!”

“No! Don’t make me do this here.” Tears filled my eyes. “Not where they can see!”

He put the pistol’s barrel to my forehead, and I looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. He’s stunning! I swallowed hard. He pushed the muzzle into my brow and said, “Right here, right now, queer boy. Put those soft pink lips around my cock!”

I nodded. “I’ll do it.”

The girls huddled beside the van, and they all gawked at me. Except for Maryanne, who stared at the ground, and her long, deep brown hair covered her face. She knew me better than any, my secrets, and my struggles. She knew how I had suffered to let out the woman in me and how I blossomed this past year. She also knew I had never kissed a man.

Recine said, shouting, “Suck his dick already! We’re freezing!” My brothers laughed.

The boss’s hand motion caught my eye, and I couldn’t look away while he stroked his cock. He worked to get it hard, and the sight thrilled me. “Now you! Stroke it for me, as I did,” he said.

With my shaking cold right hand, I wrapped my fist around it, and I gasped! I had his soft, semi-erect cock in my hand, and I stroked it to make him harder. A rush came over me, and it tingled to my toes. My cock grew hard, and I held it between my legs so the group couldn’t see.

I continued masturbating his cock, it grew more rigid, and the tip nudged in and out of his foreskin. “It’s sticking. Lube it with your mouth,” the boss said. He put my long hair behind my ears on both sides so he could watch.

I stuck out my tongue, making it flat. My brothers by the van giggled, and I concentrated on my task and ignored them. I slid his foreskin down and put his glans on my tongue, and closed my lips around the soft head. I stared at his pubic hair and smelled his musk, and my head swam.

Eager now, I remembered I had searched the internet and watched how they did it. So, I opened wide, covered my bottom teeth with my flat tongue, and curled my upper lip over my incisors. When his cock filled my mouth with my tongue under it, my sense of self became validated. Pleasing this man made me feel more like a woman than ever, and I had crossed a line never to return! I pushed my mouth down his stiff shaft, gorging my mouth with his cock, all the way to my throat. I got so hot I almost fainted.

My God! I’m sucking his cock! I came up his shaft with my hand following my mouth; then I went down again. I worked my wet lips over his cock’s head real slow with my tongue underneath, and Jaco moaned. I looked up into his smiling eyes, and my heart skipped a beat.

I took a deep breath. I took Jaco’s cock in my mouth again, and I moaned, “Mmmm.” I came up and went for the downstroke again, pushing my mouth further down his shaft.

His rock-hard cock met my throat and stopped. I gagged, and I came up and off his head slow like before, followed by my right hand over his wet shaft. I took a breath and went down faster this time, and his hard cock popped my throat open on accident! Everyone heard it. How could they not?

He moaned and said, “I got your throat’s cherry.”

I pushed his hard thick cock down my throat until my nose touched his pubic bone inside his trousers. I gagged and had to slide off, stringing saliva, caught my breath, then went again. Each time I deep-throated him and held it there, his cock spasmed and came close to shooting his load. I worked his cock with vigor, and every time I took it down my throat, it got easier to hold back my gag reflex.

“You have a perfect mouth for my cock!” he said.

I got so hot that I needed to jerk off, so I put my left knee on the cold concrete and began stroking myself with my left hand. At this point, I didn’t care who watched.

He saw me masturbate, then put his hand on my head. He pushed his cock down my throat, holding it there, and he convulsed. Then his cock spasmed once, and his warm sperm spurted, spasming three, four, and a fifth time.

He came in my throat!

His semen filled up my throat and my mouth so fast I had to swallow, gulping down his juices. I couldn’t keep up. I coughed and snorted cum out my nose, but I didn’t stop drinking.

Holding my cock with my left hand, I pointed it straight down between my legs. My legs jerked, and I squeezed my eyes shut and orgasmed while I swallowed Jaco’s cum. Nothing I had ever dreamed could be this hot!

I shot four hard spasms, spurting cum onto the icy cement near my panties at my ankles. Jaco’s pulsating cock eased back with minor convulsions in my mouth, and my cock had small tremors, too. His cum trickled down my chin.

His men uttered words of disgust, but I melted in heaven, swallowing every drop! I dissolved into total bliss! I backed off, and cum strung from both my lips to his cock. I smiled up at him. My entire body thumped along with my heartbeat, and semen drooped from my mouth onto my bare chest.

I swiped the Jaco’s cum from around my lips, putting it in my mouth, licking it off my fingers, and swallowing it all. I put his cock back in my mouth, slurped the cum off, and drank it.

Groans came from his men and my siblings. “Hey,” he said to his men. “Bring me the paper towels from the van’s center compartment. Hurry!”

The girls looked down and away, making my cheeks burn red with embarrassment. My foster brothers had their backs turned to me. Raul hit the van’s side with his fist.

My big handsome man petted me and ran his fingers through my long hair. He gave me a paper towel, and I wiped my chest and mouth and dropped the towel on the driveway. “You’ve got lovely lips and a sweet mouth, queer boy. You and I will have more fun, no?” His men laughed.

I nodded my head and said, “Yes, we will have more fun. You can take me how you want. But right now, my brothers and sisters are freezing.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear, my pretty Lucas, and I am cold, too.” He motioned to his men. “We will load up now.”

The girls had huddled and bunched close. A kidnapper had gone inside the van, and the other men held guns on the girls. The side van doors slid open, the men hurried the girls in, and the boys hustled into the van behind the girls. I was the last to get in and seated.

“You could have waited to get his nut off when we got indoors somewhere,” Maryanne said. “I’m fucking freezing!” She moved over and let me sit by her.

“Sorry, the boss man made me,” I said. She cuddled in close to me.

“It didn’t look like he made you from where I stood,” Recine said. The others agreed. “You went all cock-drunk. And you stink like cum!” She inched away from me, and so did the others, except Maryanne.

“Do you remember the gun at my head?” I asked. I said that, but it was sort of a lie. I didn’t want to give him head at first, but I would never have stopped once it started.

My brother, Raul, said, “You’ve turned into a girl!”

“What’s wrong with girls? Over half the world’s population are women. Give us a little respect.”

“After what I saw out there, how can you ask for respect? You licked cum off your fingers. You’ve shaved your entire body!”

“I don’t have to explain my body to you, and girls give fellatio! You still kiss us.”

Raul frowned and thought about it. “I kiss girls, not boys dressed up as girls.”

I locked eyes with him. “I’m a woman, not a cross-dresser.” I placed my cold hands between my thighs and squeezed my shoulders. The van rocked again. I found if I lowered my head, my hair concealed my breasts.

“Do your homework before you make accusations,” Maryanne said.

“Turn up the fucking heat!” Recine said, yelling to the front. “And I’ve dealt with all the cum, blowjobs, and transgender shit I care to for one night!”

“I hope they don’t want the rest of us to start giving fellatio,” Maryanne said.

“They know better than try to stick a dick in my mouth,” Recine said, and they laughed. But she looked straight at me when she said it. Her comment stunned me. Did she come out as a lesbian to me? Jaco forced sex on me, but I was more than eager after we started. Did I want it that bad deep down? What does it say about me?

Jaco and two others climbed inside the van, and everyone stopped talking. Two men crawled in the back cargo area with us and duct-taped our wrists and ankles. They didn’t hood us, as we couldn’t see outside anyway.

The men got in the seats in the front. One kidnapper surveyed us one last time, gave the go-ahead, and we drove away from the house. No one said anything else about what I did back there, and I was grateful. Jaco had promised me more fun. Deep inside, while I rode with my head hung and hair hiding my face and chest, I did long for more, lots more!