Chapter 30

Sprawled out on the ground, Calvin’s mouth was covered in dust thanks to being thrown to the sand covered ground. He could taste the dry earth and it tasted like dry earth and defeat. Calvin was wearing an old-timey black-and-white striped prison jumpsuit that clung to his slim waist and D cup breasts in a very form fitting manner. His hands shackled tightly before him. A massive, rusted chain-link gate loomed above, slamming shut. Beyond the barbed wire, bold signs were posted along the barricade, the words entirely in Spanish. He couldn’t read a single letter, but the message was universally clear: he had been tossed over the border, locked out of his own country.

Calvin’s eyes snapped open.

An aching full bladder and light coming in from the single window in the apartment told him it was morning; the odd nightmare was already partially forgotten as he rolled over, finding himself a bit claustrophobic with how he was forced into a sliver of the already small bed and against the wall thanks to the large from of Sidney the man stood over six feet tall so it was no surprise he took up most of the bed. He was trapped against the wall in the tiny bed, pinned in by the massive, snoring frame. Taking a shallow breath his light blue spaghetti-strap nightgown rippled over his body as he shifted and reached out and shoved Sidney’s broad shoulder.

The large man didn't even flinch from the light assault. He merely shifted his weight toward the center of the mattress, mumbling groggily into the flat pillow, "I'm getting shuteye, sarge."

Gritting his teeth, Calvin realized he was going to have to climb. He carefully pulled himself up, swinging a leg over Sidney’s thick torso to straddle him. But the moment he shifted his weight to move across the bed, pain shot through his knees. The raw skin from his agonizing time kneeling on the cold concrete of the interrogation room caused him to buckle from the pressure. His legs gave out. Calvin collapsed forward, his breasts crashing directly into Sidney's chest.

The sudden impact jolted Sidney awake. Pure instinct took over, and his large hands clamped down hard on either side of Calvin’s hips.

Feeling the larger man's hands firmly gripping his body sent a shockwave of panic straight into Calvin's nervous system. It was a visceral, terrifying echo of Doug steering his face. Instead of thrashing about, Calvin froze like a deer in headlights, his breath catching in his throat, him paralyzed by the trauma.

Beneath him, Sidney’s groggy, half-asleep mind didn't register everything. His sleepy senses only felt the smooth hairless thighs straddling him and the soft, heavy weight of breasts pressing firmly into his chest. A surge of morning lust to go song with his morning woodwashed over the fort two year old man. He looked up, his vision blurry in the dim morning light, taking in the genuinely pretty features of the dark-haired Latina pressing into him. His thumbs reflexively stroked the soft curve of the girl's waist, pulling the body a fraction closer as he murmured into the quiet room, "Moriah..."

A spike of jealousy pierced right through Calvin’s paralyzing panic. ‘This man… My employee is feeling me up while fantasizing about my girlfriend!’ The audacity of it snapped Calvin back into the moment. "It's me, you son of a bitch!" he hissed, his breathy voice laced with venom.

Blinking, Sidney’s vision came into focus. The person on top of him, her honey skin with her perfect makeup. Her eyeliner, her lashes and lips along with her scowl. ‘She’s pretty,’ his only partially awake mind thought before her words sank into his brain and the sensual illusion shattered. Sidney let out a choked sound of revulsion. Sickened by his own fleeting attraction to the man he loathed, Sidney practically launched his boss off his chest. His thick arms shoved the feminized man to the side with unthinking force. The twin bed was far too small to absorb the momentum. Calvin went straight over the edge, tumbling off the bed and the floor below.

The less than graceful fall to the floor was a short one, but Calvin did land on his already sore knees causing him to yelp in pain.

The physical pain wasn’t to the pain of being described as agony or blinding. Though it came on the tail end of the trauma from the night before and Cal was half sure he felt Sid having a hard on. “Ow…Ow, ow, ow, OW!” He cried out, real or imagined, white spots danced across Calvin’s vision as he gasped, curling inward to clutch at his legs. But the sudden impact to his body, combined with the fullness of his bladder and the lingering terror of the last few seconds, was simply too much for his battered nervous system to hold back.

Calvin felt the sudden, warm release of urine spread through his panties. He frantically clenched his muscle, his bladder didn’t empty but some pee had escaped. A dark wet spot grew across the crotch of the satin nightgown, easily visible against the pale fabric.

Clenching his teeth, Calvin fell to the side so he could just lay on the cold hardwood floor and curl in the fetal position. ‘HIS DICK! I felt his cock through his underwear and he was hard!’ Calvin mentally screamed. His knees throbbed and his heart hammered after the feeling of what Sidney was packing brought the events of the night before back to the front of Calvin’s mind. What pride Calvin had left burned like acid from hearing Moriah's name on Sidney's lips.

On the bed, Sidney had scrambled up to a sitting position with his back almost to the same wall Cal was stuck next to for the short time they got to sleep. "Jesus Christ, Bennent! What the fuck are you doing?!" he started to bellow, wiping a hand aggressively across his own chest. Feeling a girl’s chest pressed up against him was a good way to wake up or it would have been in a normal situation.

Still brushing his hand over his chest, like he could wipe away the phantom feeling of his gilt boss, he looked over at the person curled into a ball on the ground, their knees red and their body trembling along with spreading stain on her nightgown, his angry tirade died in his throat.

“Yeah?” He called out to the person on the floor as if he was responding to something they said. “Waking up with you straddling me wasn't exactly the best thing for me either but you don't see me wetting myself.” Sidney said mocking the arrogant man below him, but like his anger it didn’t last as he heard Calvin start to cry. They looked and sounded so small, that paired with the fact they looked like an attractive woman the primal part of Sidney felt both guilty and a need to help, to fix things.

Shifting on the bed, Sidney rubbed the back of his neck, deeply uncomfortable. He was looking at his boss, a man he knew well and yet all he could see was a trembling, upset girl. Grunting, the big man threw the sheet aside and stood up in his boxers.

"Alright, enough," Sidney muttered, his voice gruff but stripped of its earlier mocking tone. He leaned down, hooking his hands under Calvin's arms and legs. With a single heave, Sidney hauled the feminized man off the floor and set him on his feet.

Gasped, Calvin’s feet dangling for a split second before they hit the ground. A momentary, intrusive thought forced its way through his panic, ‘Just how fucking strong is he?’ Sidney had picked him up and put him down like he was nothing more than a misbehaving toddler or a lightweight doll. The realization of his utter physical helplessness shattered whatever fragile composure Calvin had left.

"Don't touch me!" Calvin shrieked. Pulling his arm back, he swung his hand in a wide arc, aiming a vicious slap directly at Sidney's jaw.

He missed completely.

The momentum of the wild swing threw Calvin off balance, forcing him to stagger just to stay upright. He froze, his right hand suspended in the air. Slowly, his left hand came up to grip his own wrist, lowering his arm as he stared down at his lilac-painted nails in bewilderment. ‘Did I just try to slap him?’ He thought, the horror of his own feminine reaction. ‘Why didn't I throw a punch? What the fuck is wrong with me?’ The truth was Calvin had a decent chance of hurting himself if he threw a punch with his lack of proficiency and that was before he had long nails that would stab into his palm just forming a fist.

Pulling his face back slightly from the swing, not that he needed to, the ex-boxer didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, his jaw locked, staring down at the trembling, confused girl clutching her own wrist. His brief flash of guilt hardened back into annoyance. "Fine," Sidney growled, his voice dropping into low warning. "But if you want to act like a brat, you might end up getting a spanking if you keep it up."

Hearing the threat, Calvin’s head snapped up. An ember of Calvin David Bennent’s arrogant spine refused to be completely extinguished. Letting go of his wrist, Calvin squared his narrow shoulders, forcing a harsh, venomous glare through his tear-streaked lashes. "You wouldn't dare."

The lizard part of Sidney’s mind had allowed him to sympathize with the feminine creature on the ground, but Cal then had to open his mouth and ruin it. Turning his head slightly in their direction the larger man met Clara’s angry but pretty gaze. “You wanna try me?” He said in a low, calm voice.

Throwing up his hands, Cal went into his bathroom slamming the thin door closed before pulling up his satan nightgown, then pulling his panties down to knee level before sitting to pee and relieve himself. “That son of a bitch… that Cabrón!” Calvin said in a harsh whisper, while he didn't think of himself as afraid of the man, after the threat he was not exactly willing to press him any further.

Grumbling to himself, Sidney started getting dressed. “They are stupid enough to get arrested, I get them out and they act like I’m to blame. They had to sit in a holding cell for a few hours.. Big deal.’ He thought, finishing getting his pants on and his shirt. Before he buttoned it he checked his phone reading over an email.

After reading it he leaned against the wall outside the bathroom and rapped on the door with two knuckles.

“Leave me alone!” Sidney heard his feminized boss yell in their feminine voice. Not snapping he knocked again wondering what was taking so long just to pee. “Hey… got some good news. Clara, you do not need to show up for court tomorrow. Mahews worked something out. So tomorrow on Monday you won't have to worry about that…”

“Yay for me…” Cal said in a less than excited voice before wiping and flushing the toilet.

Shaking his head, Sidney wondered if the ass had ever been thankful for anything in his life. Leaning his face closer to the door he called back out to the ungrateful man. “Yah, Yay for you is right. Not that you want to hear the how and whys but Ahuva Bahyeet is sponsoring you for a work visa. You actually do your part and this can be over you know? What was it you said? Oh that's right, that you could do this in a week.”

At that moment the bathroom door swung open. If it opened out, Sid would have been hit in the face instead he got to see Clara, one hand partially raised, their fingers flexing before falling to their side.

Shoulders slumped, Cal to a partial step forward one of the spaghetti straps of his gown falling off his shoulder. “I’m trying… honestly… This thing is a fiasco, a rabbit hole that gets deeper and darker.” He said fixing the strap. “You mind turning around or something so I can get changed. Today is Sunday and Clara has work.”

Scoffing, Sidney looked them up and down, not so much as checking them out but in confusion. “Your first week here you were sitting next to me in just panties your breasts swinging about. No modesty at all and now you want me to turn around?”

Gritting his teeth feeling like everything in his life is a struggle, he felt like he could just cry. Calvin was exhausted after everything. “Sid…” Cal looked the bigger man in the eye but only held it for a second before looking to the ground. “Please… could you just do wha… Just please.”

Not arguing, Sidney moved to the tiny kitchen area looking out the window as he buttoned his shirt. “Yeah, if you need I can give you a lift, but no barging into my office today. I won’t be there, Sundays are never a work day for me.” He was full of shit after having worked many Sundays in the past despite him being supposed to have every weekend off.

Behind Sidney’s broad back, Calvin reached down and grabbed the hem of the soiled nightgown, disgusted with himself he pulled it up and over his head. The cool satin glided effortlessly across his smooth, hairless skin, the sensation sparking a brief, unwanted flutter of enjoyment before he quickly pushed it down. He peeled off the wet panties, grumbling quietly as the movement undid the tuck he had just managed to re-secure after using the restroom.

Rummaging through his drawer, he bypassed the more restrictive shapewear and settled on a pair of cheeky panties with a color matching satin demi bra. As he hooked the bra around his ribs and settled his breasts into the cups, he scowled at the lack of coverage. The fabric barely contained him, pushing his cleavage up aggressively, but he had to admit the material was practically luxurious, undeniably soothing against his tender, sensitive skin. Taking a deep breath, he reached down and painstakingly guided his anatomy back up into his body, pulling the panties tight so he could at least be semi secure. Bouncing his head to the side, he briefly acknowledged that it at least wasn’t as uncomfortable as it once was.

The next thing Calvin pulled out was the deep blue wrap dress. It reminded him of his old robe though this was much lighter and thinner. He stared at the garment as he held it up, realizing with a faint sigh that he had already worn it twice this week. Unbidden, a thought floated to the front of his mind. ‘I really need a bigger wardrobe. I hardly have any options.’

The moment the thought fully registered, Calvin’s eyes went wide. He dropped the dress, like it was a poisonous animal.

He stared down at it, his chest heaving, his breasts rising and falling in his demi bra, he was thoroughly horrified by his own thoughts. ‘Where the fuck did that come from? I don't want more women's clothes!’ He stood unmoving for a second before his natural untrusting nature creeped in. His paranoia took control, practically rinsing his mind with it. He mentally kicked himself hard. ‘That exact reaction…Staring at my dress… the dress like it was a venomous snake, recoiling in disgust is exactly the kind of slip-up that would out me. If I acted like a man forced into a dress, someone was going to figure out I am exactly that.

Swallowing his pride, Calvin forced his hands to stop shaking, bent down, and picked the dress back up off the floor.

"I believe in manicures," Calvin started, saying the words out loud to force his brain into submission, pitching his voice into Clara's soft, breathy alto. "I believe in overdressing. I believe in pink..."

At the sound of the feminine, chanting whisper, Sidney shifted. Forgetting his promise to give his girly boss privacy, Sidney turned around, his eyebrow raised in confusion. The words died in Calvin's throat as he caught Sidney looking.

Sidney didn't turn back around. He just stood there by the small kitchen table, leaning against the counter, his eyes fixed on the man standing before him in nothing but a bra and panties. Calvin froze, clutching the blue wrap dress against his exposed stomach, hyper-aware of his own nearly naked, feminine body under the lingering gaze of his head of security.

“Could you not?” Cal asked, causing Sidney to shake his head in disbelief. “Really? The other week you sat next to me in only panties, your tits hanging out while you ate the burger I brought you.

Flinching at the comment and memory, Cal put his arms through the sleeves of the dress and wrapped it around himself and tied it as he spoke. “That was different.” He snapped, though it sounded more like a girl upset and shrieking.

Some hours later Calvin was stepping out of one of his hotel's elevators, now wearing his more sensible three inch heels and his work uniform, pushing a cleaning cart when he heard a yell that was way too loud for the cleaning staff to be making in order to not disturb the guests. Turning toward the sound he was just in time to get a full embrace from Ana.

"¡Dios mío, Clara! ¿Estás bien? ¿Qué pasó anoche? ¿Cómo saliste libre? ¿Qué diablos haces aquí trabajando?" Ana’s voice was a frantic, high-pitched blur of rapid-fire Spanish as she squeezed the life out of him.

Staggered back half a step in his three-inch work pumps, Calvin struggled to keep his balance against the weight of the fiery Latina. Her arms were locked around his neck in a death grip, pulling him flush against her. Normally, the sensation of a gorgeous woman’s chest pressing and rubbing so intimately against his own would have been front-page news for Calvin’s libido. His lizard brain for reasons unknown to him didn’t even register it.

Prying himself out of her embrace, Calvin held his manicured hands up in surrender, shaking his head until his long dark hair and large hoop earrings swung about. "Slow down, slow down," he pleaded, his voice strained. He dug into the meager vocabulary she had been forcing on him over the past two weeks, managing a clumsy, heavily accented defense. "Tú sabes... solo hablo un poco de español." Him telling her how she knows he only speaks a little Spanish.

Ana let out an exasperated laugh, her dark eyes shining with unshed tears. She stepped back but kept her hands gripped tightly on Clara’s shoulders, giving them a firm shake. Before raising one hand in his face, holding up one finger. "Dios mío… Oh my god.” She then held up a second fringer. “Estás bien. Are you okay?” Then she held up a third finger. Qué pasó anoche. What happened last night.”

Already surrendering, Cal waved his hands frantically to get her to stop. “A lesson now? Really!?” It was his turn to give an exasperated laugh. ‘I’m okay, tired and before you ask or..” he paused trying to parse through everything she said. “Maybe you already did, but I can’t afford to miss work.” The meager bank account Clara had in their name was one thing but he needed to solve this embezzling issue so this could end before he had to have a conversation about immigration with his lawyer, who would ask uncomfortable questions if he recognized him looking the way he did.

Calvin’s stomach lurched at the memory of exactly how he had secured his freedom, the phantom taste from the interrogation room coating the back of his tongue all over again. He swallowed hard, forcing the corners of his plump lips up into a reassuring, vacant smile.

"It was... a massive mix-up," Calvin lied, channeling every ounce of corporate PR spin he possessed to keep his voice steady. "They scanned my prints and ran my ID. Then Sid… Mr. Larson came to get me, but otherwise, they tossed me out on the curb at four in the morning without an apology and some paperwork. The hotel is working on sponsoring me though so, no problems.”

Putting her hand down Anna gave her friend a disapproving look, the kind a mother might give one of her children for doing something they disagreed with. "And you came to work? Are you crazy? You should be in bed! You should be calling a lawyer!"

“Mmm…” Ana made the sound tilting her head and finalling moving out of their personal space. “I guess the lawyer is taken care of, at least this place has something to offer.”

"I need the money," Calvin said, rehashing what he already explained the irony of the statement tasting like battery acid. He turned away slightly, gripping the plastic handle. "And... Mrs. Long bumped me up. I'm in the offices starting tomorrow."

Ana’s eyes widened, the worry momentarily chased away. “The offices? ¡Qué bueno, flaquita!” She clapped her hands together twice, While she had a cheerful smile on her face the clapping felt almost mocking to Calvin, but that is when we saw that smile break as her eyes narrowed with cynical suspicion. “Wait. More work, higher expectations, access to the executive suites… did she give you a raise to go with it?”

Blinking, Ana saw her friend flutter her lashes in confusion. In his desperate bid to gain access, the actual compensation for his undercover labor hadn't crossed his mind. Earning an extra dollar an hour or less was utterly meaningless to him, but with how little he had it could mean being able to afford a taxi instead of the bus or being able to afford a pair of pants... He slowly shook his head, his long dark hair swaying with the motion.

“Figures,” Ana scoffed, rolling her eyes. “They expect us… in this case, you to do the heavy lifting, but they’ll be happy to keep you at your starting pay rate and still call it growth… bleh.” She said, ending the sentence sticking out her tongue and almost putting her finger in her mouth to mimic throwing up as if the thought of the situation made her sick.

An unfamiliar curiosity came to Calvin. He was usually the one setting the margins, keeping payroll as tight as legally permissible and balancing it with morale. “I know it is against the rules,” Calvin said softly, breathy and hesitant, “but how much do you actually earn?”

The more experienced maid let out a short, dismissive laugh, waving her hand in the air. “First of all, that rule is bullshit. It’s a scare tactic. The Department of Labor makes it very clear that no company can forbid employees from discussing their pay, no matter what Mr. Bennent's little handbook says.” She stated her hourly wage freely,a number that made Calvin wince internally, realizing exactly how thin the margins of survival were for his staff. Sure she made more than him right now and he already knew the ball park pay for each of his staff members. The ones that spent personal time alone with him, he threw a little more in their direction but Ana had never been one of them.

Tapping her index finger against her chin, Ana eyed Clara’s exhausted, pale face. “You know, if you really need the money and maybe you would want to earn some extra on the side?” She stopped, immediately shaking her head and waving the idea away. “No, no. Never mind. It’s for tonight, and you absolutely need to rest. You look like you’re going to fall over.”

Feeling as if he could fall asleep by just leaning on the wall Cal refused to admit weakness after all he went through. “I’m fine,” Calvin pushed forward, his mind flashing to the dismal balance in Clara’s bank account and the desperate need for a distraction to keep his thoughts away from the holding cell. “Seriously, Ana. How do you get by? I need the cash.”

Hesitated, Ana bit her lip before relenting. “Okay. Sometimes I do private catering and cleaning gigs. It’s for people connected to the hotel, but it’s off the books. Off-site. Tonight… It pays four hundred dollars cash for just a few hours of work. Mmmm two hundred each if you came.” She gave them a stern, assessing look. “But it’s exhausting, Clara. High-end dinner parties. They expect perfection. You have to be completely invisible, anticipate their needs, and be on your absolute best behavior. Laugh at jokes directed your way, but not initiating any conversation and no resting or so much as leaning or they get uppity.” She said with another scoff.

A weak smile touched Calvin’s plump lips. He slowly began to nod, the motion picking up pace as a spark of his old confidence flared. ‘A high-society dinner party?’ he thought. ‘That is my bread and butter!’ He had hosted dozens of them. He knew exactly how the wealthy expected to be served, when courses should be cleared, and wine pairings he could suggest.

“Otherwise,” Calvin began to ask, his voice steadying, “will you have to do it on your own?”

Ana gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Sí. But it’s no big deal. I’ve done it plenty of times before and it means more money for me.

Hearing her, a memory surfaced. Early last year, back when he and Moriah were still living together in the house, they had hosted a dinner party for Moriah’s parents. Moriah had brought in extra help off the books. Calvin remembered Ana, along with a sexy girl from South America whose name he couldn't recall, silently clearing plates and serving champagne while he held court at the head of the table.

He had completely ignored them back then, treating them as part of the furniture. Now, he was about to willingly agree to be one of them. ‘How far have I fallen?’ He asked himself, refusing to delve into the numerous ways he had lowered his station in life. ‘I will soon rise again like a phoenix and be wealthy enough that I will never have to worry about money ever again!’