Crossing the Border

Legal isn't hard... is it?

“Look, Fuck’em right?  If they want to apply for asylum they can do it from across the border.  If they want to be a citizen, they need to apply like everybody else.  It’s not hard or difficult or anything.  Right?”

It was probably stupid to say that in a Texas border town bar, but it’s how I thought and it’s what I believed.  How was I supposed to know that an ancient magical Mayan priestess would overhear me and help me understand the plight of central American immigrants trying to reach the American dream.  When I woke up I was in this beautiful young woman’s body.  I’m not sure if this woman now existed in my body or this was created just for me, but I knew that it was real and that I had to get into America… and that I had to do it my way and not just run the border. 

A little snooping around my pathetic apartment in San Salvador made me realize that my family had drug cartel ties… and that my life was in danger.  Without further searching I gathered up what I could and ran.  I took my sad broken car as far north as it could take me.  I took a bus as far as my money could buy me.  I hitched a ride as far as my thumb and good looks would get me until I finally got to Mexico City.  With the knowledge that I’d easily qualify for asylum I found the U.S. Embassy and filled out all the paper work to apply for asylum. 

It turns out that you can only seek asylum from within the borders of the United States.  Instead I have to apply as a refugee, and that would take about 2 years.  I started the paperwork but knew in the pit of my stomach that I wasn’t safe from the cartel.  I was in a Catch-22… stay and do this all nice and legal and risk my life or cross the border and risk being stuck in this body forever. 

The saving grace turned out to be Edwardo.  Edwardo worked in the Embassy and took a shining to me.  While helping me through the piles and piles and piles of paperwork he even comforted me as I broke down crying.  He admitted that the system was rough and only getting harsher and even with my legitimate problems, might not allow me in.  He took me out and explained all my options to get across the border.  I admit that I glazed over at the complexity of the entire system and only focused on the bottom line… the fastest practically guaranteed way in was to apply for citizenship as the spouse of a citizen. 

Taking my hand in his and looking deep in my eyes Edwardo admitted that he was a U.S. citizen and was willing to help me out.  He only asked for one thing; that I live truly as his bride through the entire process and when I’m finally granted citizenship, I consider staying his wife. 

I could feel my stomach try to fall through the floor.  I knew somehow that making me an attractive young woman would make the process easier, but I had hoped it would be by being more sympathetic and not having to experience being feminine and womanly.  But if living as a woman with a man for a couple years was the price to pay to get my life back, then so be it.  I was as honest with Edwardo as I could be…. I told him I was nervous about being with him as I was a virgin. 

That saved my ‘virginity’ until our wedding one year later.  I wanted us to have a quick engagement, but Edwardo promised that any sign of a false relationship would harm my chances of citizenship.  So six months in an apartment while waiting filing papers at a law firm, then six months living with Edwardo and working as his secretary.  Our wedding was lovely and my nervous smile seemingly made a lovely wedding photograph. 

Edwardo is a gentle but virile lover and our honeymoon in Puerto Vallarta was spent almost entirely in our resort room.  I learned as much about my own body as I did about Edwardo’s.  I learned how he liked to have the underside of his cock locked and teased before cumming into my mouth.  I learned how his tongue on my nipples could give me an orgasm all on its own with enough time.  And Edwardo was more than willing to put that time in!  While I learned that Edwardo was a modern man and wanted me to be a modern woman in every aspect of our life, I also learned that it didn’t extend to our love making.  That in the bedroom or anyplace we had sex, I was to be his slut. 

And while my masculine pride took hit after hit each time I did my womanly duties, I also learned that a part of me loved being his whore.

Six months after our honeymoon, I applied for and was granted a visa.  Two weeks later Edwardo got his transfer to the office of foreign missions Houston regional office.  I was back in Texas.  I was back in the United States.  Edwardo reminded me that we still had to apply for citizenship, but I still couldn’t hide my joy. 

That joy came crashing down a few months later as the process got started and the realization set in as to just how long of a process this would be.  I understood that this was the fastest way to get citizenship, and understood that the long engagement and time spent in Mexico was needed, but I had been a woman for almost two years and was hoping to be a man in another year or two.  But even this ‘expedited’ process was going to take a long time.  A year to get a green card.  At the very least, 3 more years living as Edwardo’s wife with the green card without leaving the country.  Maybe five years.   Only then can I apply for naturalization and the application process can take a couple years. 

All of that is if the paperwork goes through smoothly and considering that I ran from my country in fear of my life, have family ties to a criminal organization, applied for asylum AND refugee status, and married a man I met in the US embassy, the process will probably NOT go smoothly and require further ‘enhanced vetting’ meaning even more time as Edwardo’s wife and bedroom slut. 

I can now see why Edwardo was so confident in his request.  If I live up to my end and life faithfully as his wife for the time required, I’ll be loving my husband for another six to eight years if it goes smoothly and another ten to fifteen years if there are any bumps in the road.  Who wouldn’t want to remain married at that point? 

My chest hitches in a sob as Edwardo steps up behind me, cupping my breasts and whispering soft loving words into my ears, promising that everything will be okay.  But the only words that I hear are my own from a lifetime ago…

“Look, Fuck’em right?  If they want to apply for asylum they can do it from across the border.  If they want to be a citizen, they need to apply like everybody else.  It’s not hard or difficult or anything.  Right?”

source:  fuskator

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Sorry to get a little political especially on Independence Day, but I think it's hard to celebrate 'America' with all this brouhaha going on down at the border.  Crossing the border illegally is one thing, but when the 'fast' alternative can easily take a decade it's pretty easy to see why some people would try the 'illegal' way first.  On top of that, stealing their children is just cruel and I can't stand for my country being cruel.  

We won't ever solve the problem of illegal crossings until we have a faster, easier method of legal entry and legal path to citizenship.  Get that sorted out and the problem of illegal crossings will take care of itself.  I'll step off my soap box now and focus on our heroine's next six to fifteen years as Edwardo's wife and bedroom slut (follow the link to fuskator for images of her BEING that slut!)