Famous Donkey Girl of Tijuana
© 2000 - All Rights Reserved. Any use of this work without the author's
written permission is strictly forbidden.
red velvet curtain opened, and I stepped onto the stage, nearly
blinded by the bright white glow of the spot light. In the darkened
room, I could'nt make out any faces in the crowd gathered to watch
the act I was about to perform. The music started, a traditional
mariachi record played on an old turntable. The same record had
been used for so long that at times it was hard to hear the music
over the clicks and static. I moved to the soft beat. I had never
stripped to mariachi music before, only loud pop music with a
driving beat, and it was difficult to find the rhythm. Gyrating
my hips I formed what I hoped were sensuous movements.
off my traditional Mexican blouse, feeling the eyes of the crowd
on my breasts as they threatened to bounce out of my bra while
I danced. My long, brightly colored skirt came off next, followed
by my bra and panties. Shaking my hips I danced naked around the
stage trying to give the audience a good show. The music stopped
and I nervously eyed my co-star being led onto the stage.
seem very enthusiastic, stubbornly refusing to join me on stage.
A man tried to push him from behind, but my partner obstinately
refused to move forward. I shared his reluctance to perform; I
wasn't his regular partner. If he didn't want to perform with
me, I would have been more than happy to walk off the stage and
cancel the show. I didn't want to be doing this anyway.
name was Reynaldo. His regular partner Dolores had died in some
kind of freak accident involving an exploding beer bottle and
a condom. It felt strange taking her place at the same moment
her funeral was being held, but as el jefe said, the
show must go on. As the new girl and somebody who didn't treat
Dolores and Reynaldo as freaks, I was chosen by el jefe
to take Dolores' place. I had a choice, to perform her act until
a replacement could be found, be fired and go home to work in
corn fields for five dollars a day, or work in a sleazy cantina
, selling my body for twenty dollars a day. I was earning
much more money dancing than I could anyplace else, so I agreed,
as much as it repulsed me.
still couldn't be persuaded to join me on stage, and el jefe
motioned for me to do something -- anything -- to keep the
crowd happy. I sat on the floor and spread my legs, letting the
crowd see my bare pussy. El jefe frantically motioned
me to do more, so I brushed my fingers along my labia, arched
my back and pushed one finger into my slit. I heard the crowd
murmur ominously; somebody from the back whistled angrily and
yelled, "This isn't what we're here for!"
back at my partner, five men were now pushing and pulling him
onto the stage. Reluctantly, he stood in the middle of the stage
and I danced coquettishly toward him. I stood in front of him,
placed my hands on the floor and pushed my pussy inches from his
face. I could feel his hot breath on me. I stood and waited for
somebody to push the wooden bench into place.
over the bench, resting my abdomen on it as I waited for my partner
to push his cock into me. The bench wasn't very big, so I needed
to support my upper body with my hands on the floor. This would
allow the crowd to watch my breasts sway when Reynaldo mounted
knew what he was supposed to do, but he stubbornly refused to
perform. Reynaldo was supposed to mount and slide his huge cock
into me, but he obstinately remained firmly planted on the floor.
The men tried to move him on top of me, but he pushed himself
back down again and stared angrily at them. I closed my eyes and
whispered a prayer, thankful that the act was failing.
waved frantically at me, wanting me to do something to calm
the restless crowd. I stood and danced around my partner, brushing
my hands on his furry coat and pressing my pussy inches from his
face. As I did, his warm tongue suddenly lashed out and pressed
against my labia. I gasped, more in surprise than pleasure, and
returned to the bench and bent over.
was somewhat interested in me, but as I glanced back at him, he
stubbornly turned his head away and stared into the crowd, his
hot breath filled with saliva. I wiggled my butt provocatively
but he didn't even give me a second glance, rejecting me completely
by turning and staring into the crowd.
see it, but I heard a beer bottle crash onto the stage, shattering
someplace behind me. " Ay caramba! " I yelled as I ran
to the relative safety behind the curtains. El jefe angrily
yelled at me, blaming me for the angry crowd. As his voice boomed
across the room, I heard a shower of beer bottles and shot glasses
crash onto the stage. When el jefe realized that his
star was alone on stage and getting pelted by beer bottles, he
forgot about me and tried to gather his troops to make a mad dash
to save poor Reynaldo.
else, I wasn't about to go back on stage, and I watched helplessly
as poor Reynaldo stared vacantly into the audience, oblivious
to the beer bottles bouncing of his back and crashing next to
him. El jefe pulled the needle off of the record and grabbed the
microphone. "Tonight's show has been canceled. We are sorry
for any inconveniences. Have a good night."
of glass crashed onto the stage and Reynaldo as the angry crowd
demanded their money back. I knew there was a better chance of
Dolores returning from the grave than el jefe refunding
any money. Nobody wanted to go on stage and save Reynaldo. He
refused to move, valiantly daring the crowd to pelt him with more
bottles, taunting them with his mere presence.
calm down or I will call the police." El jefe's
words only increased their fury, and I watched in horror as a
bar stool crashed onto the stage, landing a few feet away from
The bar stool
seemed to bring Reynaldo to life. He kicked his hind feet in the
air and let out a loud cry, "hee-haw!" Reynaldo ran
into the audience, his feet kicking at anybody near him and his
teeth biting at whatever flesh was within range. The once brave
but now terrified crowd moved away from him and out the door.
A few men didn't move fast enough and felt Reynaldo's hooves on
their bodies or his teeth in their skin.
was now nearly empty. Reynaldo searched out the final members
of the audience and chased them out the front door. Satisfied
that the bar was now empty, Reynaldo sauntered back onto the stage
and looked at me with sad eyes. I hesitantly stepped toward him,
and his ears seemed to perk up a little. I wasn't sure if it was
safe to approach, but I felt sorry for the poor donkey and took
another step toward him. As I reached him, I saw blood above his
eye. I reached my hand out; when he didn't react, I softly petted
him on the head. He pushed closer to my naked flesh and put his
head between my arm and the soft skin of my breast, a sad sound
coming from his throat.
Hijo de tu pinche madre! Burro estupido! " el jefe
yelled. " Idiota mujer, " he yelled at
me menacingly as he stepped toward us. I covered my head with
my hands, fearing the infamous wrath of el jefe , but
as he raised his hands to strike, Reynaldo kicked him in the stomach,
sending el jefe flying off the stage.
he likes you, Lupe," one of the bartenders said with a loud
laugh. "Do you think he understands about Dolores?"
At the mention
of Dolores' name, Reynaldo's ears perked up and he looked expectantly
around the room. When he didn't find her, he rubbed his head against
my bare breast and looked hopefully into my eyes.
we have a new donkey girl," el jefe said as he looked
at us from a safe distance and rubbed his stomach. "The second
show better work, or else you'll be turning tricks back home in
Michoacan and Reynaldo will be served to our customers inside
tortillas and covered in salsa for dinner next week."
El jefe marched into his office saying that his ribs were
broken, two sympathetic top-heavy dancers at his side.
to Reynaldo and told him, "See what kind of mess you have
gotten me into?" Reynaldo turned, put his hooves onto the
bench and turned to me with an expectant look in his eyes.
believe it, but Reynaldo's head actually bobbed up and down, answering
my question with a nod. I looked under his body and looked at
his massive cock. I petted Reynaldo on the head and whispered
into his ear, "Not now, we need to do a show later. Then
you will get what you want."
hopped off the table and muzzled against me, his head brushing
against my breast. I grabbed his leash and led him backstage,
hoping that he wouldn't stubbornly refuse to move. As I pulled
on him, he followed me backstage and obediently entered his stall.
I petted him, and he pressed his head against my naked breast.
him with a blanket and told him, "Thanks to you, it looks
like I'm the new donkey girl." I could have sworn that he
smiled. Given the choice of going back home and working in the
fields or in the cantina, being the new donkey girl wouldn't be
so bad. I would earn more money and I wouldn't have to work in
the hot sun or sell my body to the smelly, drunk, macho men in
the cantinas .
show of the night was a complete success. Reynaldo did everything
he was supposed to do and I did everything I was supposed to do.
Over time, I added to Dolores' act. One night, when Reynaldo seemed
depressed about something, on impulse I took him into my mouth.
The crowd loved it and Reynaldo seemed to like it too. The boss
was so happy with us that he increased the admission price and
gave me a raise. He even added two more carrots to Reynaldo's
That is how
I became the famous Donkey Girl of Tijuana. It isn't a bad job.
My days are free, the money is great and I only have to do one
show a night, two on Saturdays. Reynaldo is like a big playful
puppy and enjoys my company. The other night I had my first real
on stage orgasm. It was unexpected and a nice surprise; the crowd
loved watching me moan in ecstasy and the amount of money in the
hat passed through the crowd tripled.
bad thing about being the famous donkey girl of Tijuana is that
men don't take me seriously. They don't understand that it is
only an act, that I'm not acting out some sort of perverted fantasy
on stage. The more I think about it, the more convinced I'm that
men have a complex about going to bed with me. Not because I let
a donkey fuck me, although that may be a part of it, but they
probably think they could never satisfy me - that I'm used to
the huge size of Reynaldo. Hopefully, someday I will find a man
to make me happy, one who understands me and realizes that size
I hope he is as big as Reynaldo.
Notes on Donkey
are some examples of the typical E-mails I've received for my
story, "The Famous Donkey Girl of Tijuana."
This is by far your worst story. It was a waste of your time to
write it, let a lone a waste of my time to read it. Bestiality
is something that is not erotic and really squicks me big time.
I don't know why you wrote this, but it's not up to the top quality
erotica that I've come to expect from you."
to do better next time. Another example:
I loved your story, 'Donkey Girl of Tijuana.' It's probably your
best story. Sure, it's not sexy and it didn't get me hard, but
it made me laugh."
I don't know if it's my best story, but that's my opinion. A third
Cute story. It made me laugh."
are representative examples of the E-mail I've gotten for the
story. Of the three, the closest to the response I was trying
to evoke is the last. I was trying to write a "cute"
story that made the reader giggle, or at least smile. The second
example is more than I expected but much appreciated.
I think I'm right but you never know, the people that sent E-mails
saying how bad the story was were the people looking for a piece
of erotica, a sexy story. The story was not meant to be sexy,
adult fiction - yes, erotica - no.
came to my mind when I heard an urban legend (at least I hope
it's an urban legend) of a sex show in Tijuana featuring a donkey
and a woman. After I picked myself off the floor and quit laughing,
the whole idea is so ridiculous that even as I think about it
now, I giggle, I thought about what would make a woman actually
do a donkey <giggle> and the entire story popped into mind.
I was trying to be cute, but I guess I forgot that I'm only supposed
to write sex stories.
point is, if you hated the story, I'm sorry. If you "got"
the story and giggled (or at least smiled) a little, thanks. If
the story squicked you, I'm sorry, but the actual donkey sex <giggle>
takes place "off screen" and is used only as a set up
for the last line of the story which is supposed to make you laugh.
I tried to make the story as "squick-free" as I could.
liked the story and found it sexy, then...
I'm sorry, I just...
obnoxious laughter> Donkey sex?
down> I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that the
idea of a woman and a donkey... <loud snort>
I didn't mean to laugh. I have to get going now. I'll talk to
almost forgot, somebody asked me if I have ever seen a donkey...
well, they asked me if I had ever seen a donkey... penis.
yes I did (oh be quiet, it was sort of just hanging there). When
I was little (remember I lived in rural Mexico) my father owned
a donkey. As the oldest child in our family, I was in charge of
it, and I used to have to ride it whenever I took food and water
out to my father and brothers in the field (yes, they picked corn
for two dollars a day). I hated that stupid donkey. It would never
go in the direction I wanted it to, that is when it decided to
move with me on top of it. Most of the time it stubbornly stood
in place, until I got off of it and dragged it out to the field
with me. Whenever it did move, it moved as slowly as it could,
occasionally kicking, trying to knock me off.
As I look
back, it must have been hilarious watching me with the donkey.
A twelve year old girl dragging a donkey with a water jug on the
donkey's back and a basket full of food in the girl's arms. Why
did I drag the donkey instead of just walking? Because my father
told me that he bought the donkey so I wouldn't have to walk to
the fields, and that if I didn't bring the donkey with me, I would
be in big trouble. So I had to drag the dumb donkey out to the
fields then drag it back to the house. Of course, since the donkey
hated me as much as I hated him, whenever we got to the corn fields,
the donkey would trot to where my father was and stop obediently
in front of him. When it was time to go back to the house, the
stupid donkey would walk until we were out of my father's sight,
where I would have to pull him back to the house.
away from the point of this little note, but I really hated that
stupid little donkey. One of the best days of my life was the
day my father sold that stupid donkey and bought a bicycle...
Sorry, back to the point.
I've devised this little chart for the people that have read my
story; their reactions (based on the E-mails I've gotten since
I put the story on the website) and my replies.
Loved the story.
Thanks! I'm glad I
was able to write the story well enough that you "got"
The story was cute;
it made me laugh.
Thanks, that's the
effect I was going for.
The story was OK;
Well, what did you
The story sucked big
time. It's your absolute worst story.
I'm sorry. I'll try
to write better stories in the future.
Your story sucked,
and worst of all, it had donkey sex in it!
sorry. I didn't intend for the story to be erotic.
Wow, you should write
more bestiality stories.
Ummm... no. <giggle>
Can you send me a
nude picture of yourself?
Ummm... no. Well,
if you send me a picture of yourself, nude and in public, then I'll
think about it.