One of the junkyards specialized in Cadillac cars, and the two men at the place seemed happy to let Jacob know if some particularly interesting part arrived. In the run-up to the holidays, Jacob had been there almost every weekend and is on good terms with Mack and Big Bubba, who ran it.
They’d often include Jacob in a round of beers and would sit around on battered old couches in the portacabin that was both their office and a storeroom, talking cars, and sport. Jacob enjoyed the camaraderie of these older men who shared his love for cars. Even though Big Bubba is old enough to be his dad and Mack in his early thirties and already bald, Jacob realized they quite liked him hanging around. Now and then, the teen caught them casting sneaky glances, checking out his butt or groin. It amused and flattered Jacob that these ‘older males’ should secretly have the hots for him.
You see, Jacob is openly gay, and his personality is quite feminine. Even though he can talk and work on cars with the best of the macho cis males, he dresses in bright clothes and wears a light smattering of makeup. At first, many of the junk dismissed the faggot freak, but Jacob’s knowledge of cars won them over. Then his warm personality shone through, and now he’s welcomed as any regular to these yards. None of the grease monkey’s bat an eyelid now if they see young Jacob walking around in a bright floral shirt or a bright purple suit.
The walls of the portacabin at Big Bubba’s and Mack’s yard seem covered in posters and pages of pinups from various men’s magazines. Naked women are everywhere, yet here they are, and Jacob gets the feeling these two older men are again checking him out.
Jacob noticing their attention, often laughingly asks, “Are you guys in the closet or something? I think all these naked women are just a smokescreen, you know.”
They’d laugh. Mack would say something like, “We ain’t no queer pillow biter, Jacob. That you can be sure of.”
One day, Big Bubba rang to say that a part Jacob had ordered had come in. Smiling to himself, Jacob said, “I can’t make it right now, but do you mind if I send my sister Justine? Now you treat her nice…”
“Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll put on some fresh coffee for her and give her some homemade chocolate chip cookies,” Big Bubba said with sarcasm.
“You better…” Jacob warns and ends the call.
‘Now it’s time to have some fun with these dirty old guys,’ he thought. ‘I’ve seen how they check me out. Now I wanna see if they’re the same with a woman.’
What they didn’t know about Jacob was, he’s an avowed crossdresser. He often goes out on the town with his gay friends dressed as a girl, and given his skinny body and feminine features, Jacob passes for one easily. Of course, he’s never gone to a junkyard dressed as a girl before because the men who work at or frequent those places are usually the transphobic ‘MAGA’ types. The most ‘red MAGA caps’ he’s counted on one trip to a wrecking yard was fifteen. A sure sign that intolerance is alive and well in America.
Jacob changes into a black mini skirt with knee-high black boots and a red vest top with a stuffed bra giving the appearance of c-cups. He dons a black long-haired wig, applies makeup, perfume, and jewelry, then examines his look in the full-length mirror. ‘I’ll give those two dirty old men something to think about,’ he thought, imagining them trying to ogle ‘Justine’ without being too obvious.
Parking the car outside the junkyard, Jacob picks his way around the muddier bits to the portacabin. Big Bubba is on his own, and to Jacob’s surprise gives a low whistle of appreciation when Justine steps into the cabin.
“Damn, girl, we don’t get women dressed like you coming here too often,” Big Bubba said with a smile and bright eyes.
“Trust me, I would never be caught dead in a dirty place like this out of choice,” Jacob said in a female voice screwing his nose at the decades-old grime everywhere. “My brother sent me to get some part or something.”
The big black man nods. “Oh, you must be Jacob’s sister,” he said, standing. “I can see the family resemblance now. People around here call me ‘Big Bubba,’ you’re Justine, right?”
Jacob nods, he must stop himself from laughing. The old man holds out his hand, and Jacob shook it limply.
“I just made some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Sure, why not.”
Clearing the car and girlie mags from a couch, Jacob sits in a ladylike manner. The couch is very low, and it occurs to him the slightest parting of his knees would offer Big Bubba a good view of his red G-string panties. Jacob has his knees firmly pressed when Big Bubba emerges from the kitchen area behind the office with a tray holding mugs of coffee and the homemade chocolate chip cookies. Padding behind the big black man comes a huge dog.
Seeing a shiver run through Jacob’s body, Big Bubba passed a mug of coffee and said, “Take no notice of the dog, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s a good barker, but if someone broke into the place, he’d probably lick them to death.”
Jacob had been here many times, and he’s never seen the dog before, so it surprised the young man. “What sort of dog is that?” he asks, not seeing any recognizable breed.
“He’s a cross between a Great Dane, a Labrador, and a German shepherd, I think. Either way, he looked big and fierce when I bought him, but as they say, looks can be deceptive.”
Timidly, Jacob reaches out to stroke the dog as it had wandered over to him. The brown dog indulgently allows him to ruffle behind its ears and seems to like the attention. Then without warning, it begins pushing its nose between his knees. Unbalanced in the low chair with a hot mug of coffee in one hand, the cross-dressed male finds himself suddenly lying back on the couch with the dog’s huge nose in his crotch. He tries to push the massive head away with a free hand.
Jacob knew then he should’ve worn tights, but it’s summer. In the time it takes Big Bubba to come around the counter and pull the dog away from Jacob, the gussets of his panties are moist with the dog’s saliva.
“Get outta here, you damn pest,” Big Bubba shouts as he banishes the dog to the kitchen and shuts the door so that it won’t come out again. “Sorry about that, Justine.”
Jacob stands to dry the insides of his legs with some tissue paper from a toilet roll sitting on the counter while Big Bubba watches.
“That dog is more trouble than it’s worth…”
“Why would it do that?” Jacob asks.
The big black man laughs. “You’re a woman, aren’t you?” Feeling he’s busted, Jacob grimaces. However, Bubba continues, saying, “He can smell you, and thinks it’s an invitation to a bit of fun.”
Jacob gasps, his hand flying to his lips. “A dog wouldn’t have sex with a woman, would it?”
“That dog would,” Bubba said with a lascivious grin, “and he’d give her a good time too. I’ve seen the boner he’s got sometimes, it’s huge. He’d put most men to shame, that’s for sure.”
“Well, maybe I should just get that car part Jacob wants and go,” Jacob said coldly. “I have things to do.”
‘Yeah, like changing my panties for a start, the dirty dog,’ Jacob thought.
This is an excerpt from the short story called The Junkyard Dog, buy it to read every nasty word.