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The Transformation of Josecito Perez by T. Edward Hutchinson
It was careless. It was careless of Senior Perez to allow his son to come home for the holidays from his prep school in the United States. His daughters had pleaded with him to allow it. Josecito begged. His wife hectored him, she missed the boy so much, so much. Still, he was the man of the house, he should not have given in. Afterwards the sisters cried every day, the mother had screaming fits, they blamed him for the youth's disappearance. They were right, it was his fault.
They were so happy when he got off the plane, so handsome, an elegant sixteen year old boy, a swimmer, the best backstroker on his school team. For the first two days the youngster didn't stray from home. But of course he had to visit his friends in the city, how could he not. His father warned him about the curfew put in place by the right wing government that had come into power in the last election. Josecito wasn't much concerned about it. Curfews had never been enforced in the tourist areas where the hotels, casinos and fancy restaurants were and that was where he and his friends spent their time. And it didn't apply to cabs traveling back and forth from there and the wealthy enclaves where they all lived.
It was careless. It was careless of Josecito to leave the dance bar so late and by himself to go to an area of housing projects in the nearby barrio to score some coke in order to surprise and empress his friends. It shouldn't have taken so long to find a connection, but it did. He was unlucky. He made a buy and was picked up by the police on his way back to the disco.
The two policemen brought the kid to the processing room of the station. The desk sergeant took one look at the well dressed youth and knew that the captain would want to handle this matter himself. Perhaps the lad shouldn't even be logged in. After speaking with the captain by phone; he sent the arresting officers back out to continue their patrol and had another officer bring the teenager to the captain's office.
"Out after curfew." the captain stated.
"Would you please notify my father that I am here, sir?"
"And who is your father son?"
"Bernardo Perez, sir."
"That sounds familiar, is he at the University?"
"Yes sir. He's the chairman of the Political Science Department."
"I think I've heard of him. We will contact him in due course."
"I'd like him to know where I am right away, sir. So he won't worry."
"That's thoughtful of you son. But right now I need you to empty your pockets on the desk."
As the youngster complied, the man asked for his name. "Jose," he answered.
"They call you Josecito, Yes?"
"Yes."
When it looked as though Jose had finished the captain ordered, "Take off your shirt, pants and shoes and place them on the desk." Jose hesitated. "Don't make us wait," he threatened.
While Jose was doing this the captain spread out the items on the desk. He looked through the youth's wallet, extracting and examining his prep school ID. He picked up the youth's shirt and found the packet of cocaine in the pocket.
"I told you to empty your pockets," the man barked.
"I didn't think of my shirt pocket," Jose explained.
"You didn't think to hand over the drugs? Did you think you could get away with that? That we wouldn't check? Were you planning to sell this stuff to your friends?
"No sir, nothing like that."
"Now we have to check everything. Off with your underwear and socks. On the desk with the rest of your things.
The captain spoke next to the officer who had brought Jose into the office. "Conduct an intimate search." The policeman put on latex gloves and opened the boy's mouth, looked in and then ran a finger between teeth and gums. "Put your elbows on the desk," the captain ordered. The officer felt the kid's armpits, the creases in the crotch, under the testicles, spread the buttocks and inserted the finger that was wet from the youth's saliva into the anus. "Nothing found," the policeman reported.
"Handcuff him and put him in one of the cells at the end," the captain ordered.
"What about my clothes?" Jose appealed, his voice now shaky from shock and fright.
"Evidence. We still have to check all the hems for contraband."
The policeman fastened the handcuffs behind Jose's back, put his hand on the naked youth's arm and led him out a door and into the passage between the holding cells. For a few seconds it was quiet. Then one of the men in the first cell on the left spotted the naked boy and hollered to the guard, "In here, put him in here!"
All the men in the eight cells rushed to the front of their cages. Many of those on the left reached out through the bars in an effort to grab some part of the teenager. A cacophony of lewd remarks and pleas for their cell to receive the prize resonated though the building. The officer walked Jose to the end of the room where there were two small holding rooms for single prisoners. He pushed the youth into the one on the right, took off the handcuffs and left the boy there.
The lock clicked. The room contained a toilet, a sink, a cement platform bed with a plastic covered foam pad, and a blanket. Jose wrapped himself in the blanket and lay down. He felt like crying, but resisted the urge. A man does not cry under any circumstances, he told himself, which only made it worse. But at least he didn't sob, that much he could prevent.
In his office the captain made a phone call. Jose's father was known to be an enemy of the government. Not a revolutionary, merely a social democrat, but he was sure his superiors would want to be told what had fallen into his lap. The person he called, called another and so on until it reached the level where a decision could be taken. Perhaps the youngster's father could be controlled if he thought the government had his son. The professor might be persuaded to lend support to the crackdown on terrorism while preserving his bona fides in his own party.
A half hour later the captain received a call. He should keep the youth under wraps for a while, probably a couple of weeks. After that some other disposition might be made.
The captain changed out of his uniform and into the sort of business suit appropriate to his position in society.
When the captain entered the room, Jose sat up clutching the blanket around himself. "Well, I'm going to give you a choice Josecito. You know how the men in the holding cells want you. I could have you taken to the nearest one. Then when those guys were finished with you, you could be taken to another cell, and another after that. Or you could stay in this room with me. You understand? Which do you prefer?"
"To stay here."
"That's the smart choice. But is that how you should address a captain of police? And not even say 'please?' Try that again and don't you ever forget the alternative."
"I prefer to stay here with you, sir. Please."
"In that case you'd better give me that blanket."
Jose looked at the captain with dismay and alarm.
"Don't play stupid with me boy. I won't stand for it."
Reluctantly the teenager unwrapped himself and handed the blanket to the man.
"Get up on the bed, on your knees, facing me." ... "Come closer," he beckoned the lad with a gesture. Then the captain made a sudden reach for the boy's crotch. Instinctively the youngster bent away from the hand bringing his face forward in the process. The captain instantly slapped Jose's face, but only hard enough to make an impression. "You never, ever, pull away from me," he angrily insisted.
The teenager realized his mistake and fearing the consequences quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Sir. Please. I wasn't expecting it."
"All right, I'll forgive you this time. You're not used to this and need time to learn. When I reach for you, you need to do the opposite, you push yourself toward me instead of away. We'll practice it a few times, slowly, so you can get used to what you should do."
The captain slowly extended his hand a second time and Jose forced himself to move his crotch forward and hold still while the man handled his genitals. "Good boy, that's better. One more time. You should be smiling when we do this, look happy. That may take a while for you to learn. I can be patient with you, but only for a while and only as long as you're trying."
After repeating the action, the man had the youngster move forward on his knees until they were face to face. "Chin up, open your mouth." The captain lowered his lips to the boy's and kissed him. "Put your arms around my neck and kiss me like you mean it." ... "All right, good boy."
The man ran his hand down the teenager's back and leaning forward fondled the kid's buttocks. He removed a small tube of lubricant from his pocket. Separating himself from the youth he commanded, "Hold out your hand, palm up, fingers together." He squeezed out a dollop onto the Jose's fingers." Put that on your hole and work some of it in. Stick your finger right in there. ... Two fingers and twist them. ... OK wipe your hand on the blanket then turn around and get on your hands and knees."
The captain got up on the bed behind the youth, lowered his pants and vigorously fucked him to climax. He raised himself and the boy up and masturbated the kid, spurting on the blanket. The man then used the blanket to clean his dick.
Jose did not sleep well that night. The light was on. He kept thinking about his father appearing with a lawyer. The room smelt of semen and slightly of offal. There was no window. A guard brought him an egg and cheese breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee. He got a couple of hours sleep after eating, then woke with nothing to do except wonder why his father hadn't shown up yet. He had to know that his son had not come home last night, he had to be looking for him, having someone call all his known friends, then the hospitals and the police.
A guard brought him a cheeseburger, fries and a cola. He paced the room, the dirty blanket doubled around his waist. He tried the handle on the door. A foolish thing to do, he thought. Where would he go if it opened? He tried to sleep, napped fitfully. A guard brought him a fish filet sandwich, coleslaw and a cola.
The captain came in dressed in his suit. You do not cringe when I come in or make any face other than a happy one, he admonished the youth.
"Hygiene comes first," he mandated. He carried in a small folding table, a computer, a clean blanket, a towel, washcloth, soap, toothbrush and a small tube of paste. "Throw the used blanket in the corner nearest the door." He ordered the youngster to brush his teeth, then he took the used bush and toothpaste and put them in his pocket. "You won't be getting a shower today, so wash yourself as thoroughly as you can using the sink and the washcloth. Don't worry about wetting the floor, you can't hurt the cement and tomorrow morning someone with come in clean the room. The guard will move you to an identical room across from this one while that is being done.
While Jose was cleaning himself up the man put the folded fresh blanket at the head of the bed, set the folding table at the side of the bed and put the computer on top of it. He directed the teenager to come and sit on the bed next to him, facing the blank screen. "Your father has been notified that you are being held by a person associated with the conservative party. He has not been told where you are or who is holding you. We are considering providing him with assurances that you are in good health. For that purpose we have made a short video."
The captain turned on the laptop, and inserted a disk. A view of the room sprang to life. There was Jose saying, "I prefer to stay here with you, sir. Please." From there on the sound was muted. It showed the youngster making himself naked by removing a blanket and giving it to a man whose face was obscured by a fuzzy blob. The boy got onto the bed on his knees, apparently at his own volition. He walked on his knees closer to the man. When the man reached for the youth the boy moved his body forward as though placing his genitals in the man's hand. The youth moved closer to the man and opened his mouth wanting to be kissed, so it appeared. The man stroked the kid's body. Jose and the captain watched as the boy in the video lubricated his anus. There was a close up of the teenagers fingers stretching the sphincter. The man's penis could be clearly seen as it was slowly pushed into the youth's bottom. The fucking scene was cut short and slowed down. The man pulled the youngster upright and began to masturbate him. An excellent split screen part followed. The left half continued as it had while the right half was split again top and bottom. The top quarter of the screen was a close up of the boy's face as he achieved his orgasm. The bottom quarter focused on the kid's dick at the moment of ejaculation. The screen blacked out except for a quote in large white letters, "I prefer to stay here with you, sir. Please."
"That's a really fine editing job don't you think. It's done by a guy who owes me a favor or two. Anyway, what do you think? Should we send this to your father so he can see that you are OK?"
Jose was in a near state of shock, but jarred out of it by the question. "God, no. Please, please don't do that."
"We also thought we might send copies to the kids on your school swimming team, your roommate and your friends here. We could put a title on it something like, 'What I did on my Vacation,' and make it look like you sent it to them. I'm pretty sure they would play it and I'm positive they would be much too fascinated to even consider turning if off before the end."
"No, no. Please don't do that. Oh my God. Please don't. I'll do anything you want. Just don't do that. Please, sir," Jose implored, clutching the man's arm as he spoke.
"OK, Josecito, that's a good deal. But understand, I will hold you to it. Are you sure about your commitment to me?"
"Yes,"
"Well, say to me what it is."
"I will do whatever you want me to, sir."
"I will tell you in general terms what it is that I want. As long as I am convinced that you are trying your best, I will not send the video to anyone. You're a smart kid, you can learn. I want you to become a gay boy who is in love with your man, me. Pretending won't be good enough. You must try to become what I want you to be."
"You might think that is impossible, but you would be wrong. You like movies of course. Some actors train themselves in what is called method acting. They don't just try to portray the character, they do everything they can to become that character, twenty four hours a day. They live the way the character lives, do the things the character does, train themselves to think the way the character does, feel and express the emotions that belong to the character. Then when the camera is recording, they only have to be themselves."
"Are you sure you are willing to try to do this for me, become a gay boy who is in love with me?"
"Yes, sir. I have to try."
"Very well, crawl up onto my lap and show me how much you love me."
The youngster proceeded to plaster the man's face with kisses and hug him as tightly as he could.
"You need to look happier about it," the captain complained.
That unlocked something within the teenager and shaking like a leaf, he burst into tears. The man gently hugged the youth. "I know, I know," he said. "Its all right, Josecito. Everything is going to be all right. You need time to adjust that's all." He petted the lad everywhere he could reach, intimately as well. "Let yourself calm down now. You are my boy and I love you."
After Jose had recovered his equilibrium and the captain had stimulated him to arousal he ordered the youngster to kneel on the floor. The man stood before the youth and lowered his own pants and underwear. "Use your mouth to make love to my dick, Josecito." It was an amateur job, but the man liked it that way. The kid will learn eventually, he thought to himself, enjoying the prospect of watching the youngster develop his skill.
When the captain was sufficiently stimulated, he pulled his penis out of the boy's mouth and finished by hand, ejaculating onto the youngster's chest. "Collect my cum with your finger and put in your mouth," he required. "Get it all and look happy to be doing it, be happy doing it." Jose was so occupied with trying to look happy that he gave no thought to the likelihood that the hidden cameras would be operating, that the scene might be spliced into the video.
The man allowed the youth to clean himself up. Then he collected the towel and face cloth, tossed them onto the dirty blanket by the door, opened it and kicked the used items into the hallway.
"Tomorrow afternoon a lady will visit you and show you how to apply makeup. Now don't go thinking I'm going to turn you into a girl, I wouldn't want that. It will be a very light enhancement that you will be doing to make yourself more attractive. You want to make yourself as attractive as possible for me don't you?"
"Yes, sir. Of course."
Jose, having not slept long or well since being taken to the police station, had a good night's rest. A guard brought him an egg and cheese breakfast sandwich, a cup of coffee and moved him to the room across the passage. There was a two day old newspaper on the bed.
Then the youth paced and sat and paced some more. He didn't usually read newspapers other than to glance at the headlines, but with nothing else to do he picked it up. It was better than fruitless pondering on the mess he was in.
A guard brought him a cheeseburger, fries and a cola. He paced the room. The expected lady finally showed up. "Name's Lucy," she said extending her hand to be shaken, a firm grip. She brought an ivory colored case with her and a plastic bag. From the bag she extracted a pair of bright red silk pajamas. "Put these on." Jose turned his back as the flung the blanket on the bed. "There's no reason to be bashful with me, young man, I've seen everything there is to see." Nevertheless, the youth continued facing away until he had gotten himself into the garments.
The woman tossed a pair of red sandals on the floor. "Shoes," she needlessly informed the youngster. Then she opened the case on the bed. "We'll have to kneel down. Hector should have provided me with a table and chair."
"Who's Hector?" the boy asked.
"The captain, of course."
Just then the door opened and a guard rolled a in gurney and immediately departed. "Well, that's a little better. At least we can stand." Lucy placed the open case on the makeshift table. "You see there is a little mirror built into the cover. Come over here and stand in front of the mirror."
The woman stood behind the teenager and showed him how to apply mascara, eye liner and a smidgen of light blue eyeshadow. Then she applied clear lip gloss. "That's about all he wants you to use right now, maybe you and he will get more adventurous later. I hope so. Anyway you take it all off with cold cream and cotton balls before sleep."
"This is your cologne, it is not perfume," she assured him. Tipping the fancy bottle to the tip of her finger, the woman then touched the youth in the hollows behind his ears and the one at the throat. She wet here finger tip again and pulling down the boy's pants dampened the spot just under the coccyx bone in back and then in the front where the creases begin on either side of his crotch.
She held up a tube, "This is CC cream. You put it on your face after your shower in the morning. It's moisturizer and bronzer, you'll look fabulous."
"There's no shower here," the youth corrected.
"You will be able to take a shower very soon, I'm sure. Well, that's it for now. The case is yours to take with you." And with that she pressed a button on some sort of device that she had in her purse. A couple of minutes later a guard escorted her out of the room.
What did she mean, 'take the case with you?' Where would he take it to? Hector? The guy that claimed he loves him? Jose shook his head hoping that the pieces inside would fall into some sort of order that would make sense.
Less than a half hour later the captain came in. The youngster rose from where he had been sitting on the bed and tried to look welcoming. "You look gorgeous," the man exclaimed. He held out his hands, "Give me your hands." The boy did so and the man held his arms apart. "You look wonderful, good enough to eat. But that's for later, we need to get moving." He led the youth to the side of the gurney, put his hands in the lad's arm pits and hefted him up to sit on it. "Lie down. I'm going to cover you with the blanket. We have to go past the holding cells and I don't want any of the prisoners to see you. ... They will think we're taking out a dead body. It's good for them to think we sometimes kill people here. Kind of a bonus from our trip."
He covered the youth up, placing the cosmetics case between his feet. The man rolled the gurney out of the door, through the passage and out of the holding area, through another passage to a door at the back of the building. There he uncovered Jose and helped him down. He punched the buttons of a keypad and swung the door open to where a late model, unmarked police car waited. He opened the passenger door for the youth. "Hop in," he said.
"Where are you taking me?" the kid asked as soon as they started moving.
"Home ... my home ... our home. So we can begin a normal life together."
The boy burst into peals of laughter. "Normal?" he sputtered.
Hector punched the teenager lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah. Anyway you look happy now, Josecito."