Chapter 13

Getting off the bus, Cal’s glossy white rounded toe stiletto’s clicked on the pavement. He was much more proficient in them than any man should but with wearing his work heels all day his feet were not happy. So he gripped the bus’s rail tightly as he stepped down. Looking over his shoulder as his new co-worker. Ana, as she went by but he knew from her employee file her full first name was Ana Maria not that he had access to that file now. The girl was a fire cracker. It really had been for the best that he hadn't slept with her, but that didn’t change his attraction for her. Seeing the attractive woman on her knees scrubbing or swaying, shaking her ass to some music that she really shouldn't have been listening to while on the job. It also hadn’t stopped his mind from picturing her in the expensive French maid costume that he sadly had hanging up the crappy apartments closet.

Holding his hand up to wave goodbye, the dress wearing man hesitated before just waving his fingers in the air with his palm up much like he had seen Moriah do countless times before turning to walk the half block back to the apartment he had been **** to inhabit while he played detective as the undercover boss. It was not his first day looking like this, makeup on his face wearing a dress, his smooth shaven legs exposed coming out from the garment, his feet at an angle in the pumps it wasn't even his first time walking in public he had done this same walk in the morning to ride the filthy public transport, but the streets were more populated now. ‘Get it to gether, you are Calvin David Bennent, a successful man a college degree, one of the two owners of a resort that is doing well enough for Mega Corp, fucking Mega Corp. One of the largest companies on the planet wants to buy it. I just worked an entire day without a problem. Just walk and get out of sight!’ He thought mentally exaggerating things like the day really hadn’t been a problem.

Entering the building Calvin made his way to his shitty apartment, letting the brown fake leather purse slip down from the crop of his elbow feeling a small spike of revulsion at the mental image of how he must look holding it, only partially aware of how he walked, swaying his hips like he had drilled into him to walk “correctly”. It was just outside the white door to the relative safety of the apartment when someone stopped him.

“Miss Bent, Miss Bent!” Aarif said, picking up his pace to catch up with the pretty little thing that shook her ass as she walked past him in the hall, pretending she hadn't seen him as she moved in a way to get his attention.”First night in new home, good, yes? I knew you would like! Perhaps I come in and help you unpack and get comfortable, I help, yes? We live in the same building, we be friends.

“Friends?” ”Calvin squeaked looking at the mostly bald overweight middle eastern man.

Putting his hand on the girl's arm, her bicep, Aarif gave it a light squeeze, he thought of it as an affectionate touch. “Oh, yes, it makes my heart sing to hear you agree. Is your day going well? For me, seeing you, my new friend, makes the day better.”

‘The fuck!?’ Cal thought feeling incredibly uncomfortable by the touch. He didn;t even have the apartment key in hand to get inside quickly and this man was practically blocking his path anywhere else with how close he was standing. He clutched the handle of the purse in both hands tightly for a moment looking down past the mounds on his chest the tits that shouldn't be there if it wasn’t for that luxury spa’s little temporary enhancement. His gaze lingering there for a moment, longer than he intended before looking down to the purse in his hands seeing his body in the figure hugging navy blue wrap knit dress. The thing looked good on him, better than it should, the corset underneath helping create a false feminine figure. Pulling the purse up he started to rummage in it fir his escape.

“Yeah, day was,,. And the weather.. I was at work, but need to get dinner.” Cal’s practiced feminine voice bounced around never finishing any of the small talk sentences he started. He didn't intend to be rude, even if he wanted to tell the fatty to fuck off.

“Dinner, Yes, Maybe you come to my place. Apartment A-1 I cook for you, or maybe beautiful women cook for me?” Aarif said, showing a little bit of his teeth with his smile thinking about where things could go.

“Cook? I don’t cook.” It was a lie, Calvin knew how to cook, he just hardly did it. Preferring to just order what he wanted or taking Moriah out to some place worth his time to gaze at her beauty and show the world she was with him.

“Is okay, shame, but okay. Aarif is good chef, worked in grandfathers restaurant when first in America. I could teach, yes? Then you be good cook, make better wife, and make lucky man happy.” The taller man said, reaching forward touching the cloth wrap belt of the dress that tied it closed, him seeing it swing as Clara dug in her purse, her eyes down cast in what he imagined was embarrassment.

“I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!” The words came out louder and more forceful than Cal would have liked, not that he really thought about what he said before it came out. More than once today someone said or insinuated that Sydney and him were a couple and he had heard the phrase as a rejection more than once, not that it always stopped him.

Aarif's expression shifted his face growing red from a blush and his anger. “You flirt, you tease me and then you say this. Miss Bent we talk again, when you realize what you want. I still think you make good wife, you know I have green card. Could help you have too.”

That was when Calvin felt the man’s arms, the strength of them as their bodies pressed against one another his arms pinned at his side’s one hand holding the purse the other in it his salvation not yet in hand. The embrace didn;t last or linger but any touch from the apartments sweaty superintendent was one Calvin didn’t want.

When the overweight man was gone Calvin found the key right away like it was just waiting for the encounter to be over before wanting to be found. Inside the room, the door closed, Calvin pressed his back to it, letting out a long breath, not that he could take deep breaths with the tight corset. “A green card… fuck you.” Cal said letting the purse fall to the floor beside the door. Slipping his feet free from his heels, he only took two steps before he glared at the hardwood floor of the dingy place with disgust. If Bethany ever let his maids get away with leaving a room’s floor looking like this he would have ripped her a new one and fired the incompetent workers. He could feel the filth on his bare feet and it made his skin crawl. ‘How did I not notice this yesterday? Or did I and…’ His thoughts trailed off as his mind flashed with the events of his life right now and its insanity.

Picking up the heels in one hand he darted over to the tiny bathroom, practically hopping on his sore feet to touch the floor as little as possible. Ignoring the mirror for the moment he turned on the facet half expecting dirty water to spill out. Then wet the cloth he guessed Moriah had left for him, adding some soap before sitting on the closed toilet seat. The linoleum floor here wasn;t really better than outside the bathroom and it was making his skin crawl. Wiping, washing his feet felt good, but it didn’t solve the problem he was facing. “Okay... Sid should be coming over after work, fucker shold be hear already he should have been waiting outsude the door. That creep would have at least been kept away… probably.” He said remembering the hug the man gave him right in the apartment when he…when Clara signed the lease and that was in front of Sydney. “Get some dinner and then do a little cleaning till the dick gets here.”

Slipping his feet into the heels, his painted toes disappearing into the feminine footwear. Cal sighed, stepping out of the small bathroom. I was like someone crammed a shower into a half bathroom. When he had temporarily lived at his hotel during his divorce the suite had been so much more spacious than this hell hole of an apartment. He tried imaging the layout but even in his head it was hard to get the dimensions correct for the small 550 soiree feet apartment.

Shaking his head, Cal felt the long dark hair, much longer and darker than his natural hair tickle the back of his neck. Grimacing, he walked over to the fridge, the high heels click clacking on the hardwood floor. Inside he found it still just as bare as before but with only drinking water and eating the half a sandwich offered to him he was starving. “Sydney better get here quick. I need my wallet with my actual debit and credit cards. He said opening the freezer and pulling out one of the frozen lean cuisines that had been left for him. Frustrated, he found a cooking sheet to put it on and started to warm up the cheap oven. “Now I just need to wait… How long?” he asked himself looking at the back of the packaging, telling his eyes at step one to remove the packaging. He wanted the promised angus burger not this… sad meal.

Sitting at the small kitchen table he found himself crossing his leg at the knee looking back down to the filthy floor. “Fine!” He half yelled rummaging through the few storage spaces the apartment had to find cleaning supplies. He wasn’t afraid of hard work but he had earned the right to move past manual labor and here he was considering scrubbing a floor after doing something similar all day. “No just no if I have to live here I’m not doing it in squalor but I’m pretending to be a maid not going to be one.

Getting up he minced over to the purse he left where it fell when it fell from his grasp by the front door. Inside he pulled out the new phone with its prepaid minutes. Looking at the contacts he frowned, remembering he didn't have Moriah’s number. He had Ahuva Bahyeet Front Desk, Ahuva Bahyeet Sick Line, Beautiful You Salon, Rim Beauty Salon, City Bus Service Line, State Department (Work Visa), Dr. Highland (OBGYN), Mr. Larson.

Just seeing Sid’s contact name listed by his last name with Mr in front of it like he owed him any real respect only made him angry. He needed things. Access to his money, his wife’s... Ex-wife, current girlfriend’s number He wanted her to send an employee here to get this shit hole truly clean but staring down at the screen seeing his red painted long nails he could imagine what she would say. “Clara, you are already there. We don;t send our cleaning staff out for personal errands.” It was bullshit they had paid their staff under the counter numerous times for work. Fixing a pipe at the house, fixing an electrical socket, serving and cleaning up for dinner parties.

Growling he called the ass that should already be here but there was no answer. Calling again was the same the third time instead of ringing it went right to voicemail. “The arrogant fuck!” Calvin complained sitting back down bouncing his heeled foot as he waived impatiently for the oven to heat up. The early evening moved on, he ate but didn’t enjoy his dinner and eventually out of sheer boredom slipped his hands into the yellow rubber cleaning gloves, but not before trying and failing to get ahold of the head of his security one last time.

He wasn’t even half way done with the floor when he threw the scrub brush down, having enough of this. The evening grew later as he ended up laying on his bed looking at his… Clara’s phone screen, checking to see if his cappuccino machine he ordered had shipped or the rug. Trying to will himself to remember Moriah’s phone number.The long day of real work not just looking at a computer screen had him more tired physically then he could remember being. Going to the bathroom he untied the wrap dress, tossing it in the corner between the small standing shower and the wall and grimaced at his appearance in the mirror. There he saw Clara the supposed Latina with her honeyed skin tone the semi permanent makeup still in place, her hair a bit unkept, wearing a purple bra her tits right there in his face, The corset keeping her waist in so her lack of wide hips were less prevalent the lacy panties.

Sliding his hands down his sides feeling the garment compressing him, Cal tried to get it off himself once more. Frustrated he shook his head the girl in the mirror’s hairspilled about and the movement of his body caused her titbits to jiggle. It was a nice sight but not a comfortable feeling. Both physically feeling his inflated chest move and mentally knowing that it is him. Struggling briefly he removed the bra. The freedom from the straps felt divine, but the lack of support was an oddity. He had been mostly wearing a bra non stop since they did this to him. Pulling down his panties he stood taking a piss only to grumble reminding himself how that kind of behavior without considering things could get him caught.

Calvin could just imagine the local news story. “Local hotel owner crossdressing at his own hotel pretending to be a maid.” Bad as things were, it seemed like it would be a knife to the chest killing his reputation and the hotels.Wiping himself he went to leave the bathroom only to stop at the mirror one last time examining himself, His left hand went up to cup his breast him watching himself in the mirror rather than down at himself Then his right hand came up to do the same he stood there watching the girl in the mirror move her breasts slowly her long red nails exploring her tit, her nipples. “Yeah, you like that?”Cal **** his voice to deepen to be closer to he natural registry before responding in Clara;s voice. “Yes sir, I like that, Mmmm… It feels good.”

He continued to touch his chest feeling his cock respond. It wasn’t like he had never jerked off before, but this was different, him semi pretending he was touching Clara not himself. Mental visions of Clara and Ana walking around in the uniforms he picked out for the cleaning staff. His right hand moving down to his hardening shaft as he focused in on Clara’s lips watching them move into an O gasping in pleasure before purring his name.

That was when his mind went to his French maid costume that he had here, picturing Clara wearing it for him, his hard on only growing firmer in his grasp as he pumped. Before Calvin came to a climax though he stopped pumping, things just feeling so odd, wrong. His ribcage hurt from the corset, his feet in the heels and he was losing it mentally with his imagination and exhaustion. Unlike the night before he didn’t expect to have any trouble falling asleep. “This is so fucked up, what's wrong with me?”