The Road Trip free porn video

The Road Trip Belladonna "Eighteen hours," George Mallon said to himself with a smile while he stared at the map he had created on his phone. The mere idea of spending eighteen, uninterrupted hours en femme as he made his way back home made his manhood stiffen. It had taken months of planning, as well as mustering up the courage to go through with it, but George had put himself in the position to spend the longest continuous amount of time out his home en femme in his life. While George had spent several Halloween's en femme, he had never ventured out of his home cross-dressed at any other time of the year. Most of the reason for that was centered on his fear of how he would be received. In recent years, though, that fear was dissipating as he became more skilled at making himself over. During his last Halloween night out, no one he did not know even mentioned anything to him about being a possible cross-dresser. At that moment, George knew that he had passed himself off as a woman with several people, but he was still uncomfortable with the idea of walking around in public en femme. The trip would give him the chance to spend time en femme in public, but mostly with the safety of being behind the wheel of a moving car. He smiled, knowing that no one would get a clear enough look at him to figure anything out. The trip did involve some interaction with people. George realized he was going to have to check out of his hotel en femme, pickup some fast food en femme and, likely, have to hit a ladies' room rest stop bathroom at some point. Still, George felt comfortable that he could avoid the peak periods and keep his interactions en femme to a minimum, while simultaneously limiting them to places where he would be safest. George figured that it would be a far more enjoyable trip than the plane ride he had taken into the city. That trip was as familiar as it was boring to him. He had spent years traveling the globe in a suit. It was something he had to do as he grew his business, and he knew that he had to keep doing it to keep his business viable for the foreseeable future. The many hours he spent stuck in his office, planes and meetings in suits paid his bills, but he only felt able to relax when he cast off his oxfords and black socks and put on the pumps and black tights that he wished he could wear each morning when he stepped out the door of his home. Many times, George caught himself daydreaming about being one of his female subordinates. He had a good relationship with all of the girls and sometimes wondered if they ever picked up on his jealousy of them. It was not a question he was ever comfortable enough to ask though. The realization that he was going to be dressed similar to them for a longer period of time than they typically wore their work clothes during the day excited George while he gazed out his hotel window and saw the abutting parking garage where his rental car was parked. George paid a high premium so that he could pick the car up in the city and drop it off at the closest facility to his home, but George felt that getting to spend so many hours en femme would be worth every penny. George put down his phone and pulled himself away from the window to get ready for the trip. George walked into the bathroom and filled the sink with water before he gave himself a close shave. Although George's light colored hair and fare complexion rarely showed his stubble for several days, George wanted to take no chances with it. Once George finished shaving, he stepped out of the bathroom. George walked towards the designer luggage bag he had sent to the hotel. George unzipped the bag and smiled at the feminine contents he had been waiting to put on since the bag arrived. George had put it off, however, as he wanted to build up his own excitement about it as his anticipation grew. George could not help but smile as he stripped before he placed on his gaff. The familiar snugness was greeted with the same discomfort it usually brought. The thrill of the smooth front that George received from it, however, made any attendant discomfort seem worthwhile to George. George then sat down upon the bed and rolled down a pair of patterned, black, sheer control top tights. George smiled at the intricate fleur- de-lis and netting patterns that covered the legs of the tights as he slipped his feet into them and slowly unrolled them up his leg. Even though it was warm out, George wanted to have his legs encased in silky hosiery. George loved the way that tights and pantyhose made his legs look, and greatly preferred the image his legs cut in them rather than when they did when they were bare. Once he finished pulling his fashion tights up his legs, George wiggled his toes in the tights and ran his fingertips along the silky fabric encasing his legs. A smile came across his face as he glanced at the pattern on his tights and said to himself, "I'm a lot more like a sinner than a saint in these." George pulled his fingers of his right hand away from his legs as he bent over to pull his gel padded, black wonderbra out of his luggage. George put his arms through the straps before he hooked the front closure over his chest and stuffed the cups with his breast forms. George grinned at the feminine silhouette his body showed in the mirror next to the hotel room door. The grin stayed on George's face as he reached for his nude body briefer to give his false curves extra support and help keep his manhood firmly hidden behind another layer of nylon and spandex. After putting on the body briefer, George went back into his luggage and retrieved his white top from the bag. George slipped the top on over his head before he took out his beige colored, metallic knit skirt. George put his legs into the knee length skirt and pulled it up to his waist before he hurried back into the bathroom. The tiled floor felt cool beneath his thin, patterned tights as he began to brush out his long, sandy blonde hair. Hairstyling was the most arduous part of his feminization to George. The process took over an hour as George brushed out his hair straight so that it would fall to the side and frame his face to help hide the edges of his masculine hairline. After over a hundred strokes, George turned his attention to his face. While his fair skin, small nose and high cheekbones gave him a natural effeminacy to his face, George knew that it would take a little makeup to complete the feminization process. George slowly added dark red lipstick, rouge, eyeliner and mascara to his face, careful to make sure he did it perfectly. Each cosmetic seemed to enhance his appearance until the reflection he always wanted to greet him throughout the day smiled back at him. As he admired his appearance, George reached for his makeup bag and took hold of his perfume. George gave himself a small spray of it. The scent of it filled George's nostrils before he tucked his makeup bag into his pocketbook. George skipped a little as he exited the bathroom and made his way back towards his luggage. George zipped up his pocketbook before he put it down and took hold of his pair of black pumps from the bag. George stepped into each shoe and made sure his foot was securely in it before he took out his jewelry. George then zipped up the luggage bag before he placed on his gold, mesh chain bracelet and a gold ring that was decorated with several small diamonds. George walked towards the mirror by the door while he put his gold necklace with a diamond encrusted heart pendant on and carefully hooked it behind his neck. George straightened it out over his neck as he took another chance to admire his feminized appearance. Once George finished, he double checked his hotel room to make sure that he had not accidentally left anything behind. Satisfied that he had everything, George wheeled his two bags of luggage out his hotel room door and made his way to the elevator. George passed by a man in the hallway. The man gave George a smile but did not say a word to him before George reached the elevator. As George stepped into the elevator, he saw two women talking to one another. Neither gave him much attention as the elevator continued its descent, picking up more passengers on the way. George was nervous being in close quarters with so many strangers, but not a single one of them seemed to think that anything was strange about George. A smile came across George's face as the elevator opened to the lobby and everyone got off. George knew that he had passed himself off as a woman without issue with people only inches away from him. George walked towards the hotel's front desk clerk with a grin and told her that he would be checking out. The woman took George's keycard with a smile of her own as she asked if he enjoyed his stay. George nodded and said that he had before the woman asked "How will you be paying?" George's face lost all expression as he realized that he had not gone to the ATM to get enough cash to pay the hotel. 'Shit!' George thought, struggling to keep his composure. "With my credit card," George finally replied as his stomach sank and the smile left the desk clerk's face. George unzipped his purse and reached into it to dig out his credit card. Once he found it, George handed it to the desk clerk. The woman gave George a peculiar look as she looked at the name on the card. "George, that's not really a unisex name." "I wasn't that lucky. It's a family name," George replied, truthfully. The woman nodded before she asked, "I hate to ask, but do you have any identification with you. We've had some problems with stolen credit cards." George nodded sullenly as he reached for his wallet, removed the license and handed it to the desk clerk. The woman's eyes widened as she stared at the picture and looked up at George. She instantly realized that George was the person in the picture based on his facial features. She suppressed the urge to laugh as she said, "You're a lot prettier in person, George." George blushed as he said, "Thank you," before the woman proceed to process his payment. Once George signed the receipt he hurried towards the door, away from the only person in the facility that George knew was aware that he was a cross-dresser. George's heels clicked on the marble floor beneath him as he hurried away from the desk clerk. George's ears focused on that sound that aroused him since he knew that he was its source until he reached the doorway. The doorman gave him a smile as he opened the door for George and said, "Have a nice day, Miss." George thanked the man before he went towards the valet. The valet took George's ticket and rushed into the parking garage. George stared around the street as he stood waiting for the car to arrive. George looked to see if anyone was giving him a second look, but no one seemed to notice him to his relief. The valet returned with the car. George reached into his pocketbook and took out two dollars to tip the man. The valet smiled and said, "Thanks, Ma'am." George smiled, not feeling like correcting the young man to refer to a woman as Miss and not Ma'am. George put his two luggage bags in the trunk before he got into the car and pulled away from the curb. George smiled as he drove down the street fully en femme for the first time on a day other than Halloween. While he had driven many times in heels and pantyhose, he had never worn anything that could be seen with ease by those passing by his vehicle outside of the Halloween season. George pulled off onto a side street. He made his way down the street looking for an open spot before he parallel parked his car. After getting out, George popped open his trunk and removed the plain black luggage bag he had brought with him. George had carried the black bag containing his male clothing onto the plane, but he had sent a designer bag containing his female clothes to his hotel by Federal Express. Now, George was doing the exact opposite, driving with a bag containing only the one feminine change of clothes George was bringing with him in case of an emergency. George smiled as he entered the Federal Express Ship Center, knowing that he would not have the crutch of having his male clothing to fall back on if he got unnerved by anything during the ride. George filled out the packing slip and packaged the bag before he went up to the register. The clerk behind the counter did not seem to notice anything strange about George as he paid for the cost to ship the bag back to his house. George thanked the clerk before he walked away from the counter with a smile on his face. With the package delivered to be sent on its way back home, George returned to his car. He got behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb while he started down the side streets that lead to the interstate highway as he began his 18 hour drive home. As George drove, he occasionally reminded himself not to speed as he did not want to have to explain his situation to any police officers. George tried to keep his mind off such negative thoughts though by putting on the radio to listen to the pop songs that he knew that many girls in his office liked. George had long enjoyed the disposal pop music too, even though it frequently brought mocking looks from men in other cars listening to classic rock, metal or rap music that George was far less fond of listening to than other men were. While the open rode stared him in the face, George lost himself in the music, singing along to it and dancing with his upper body, while managing to keep the car from veering too much into the abutting lanes. George felt feminine as he embraced the girly girl songs on the radio while he drove, occasionally rubbing his tights covered legs against each other, as well as his arms and hands. Two hours into the drive, George sang alone to the Katy Perry song on the radio as he continued to drive down the highway. The constant beeping sounds he heard in the song struck him as odd as the song played on. "Is this a remix?" George asked himself before he saw the red warning light on the car shinning bright. "Oh, Shit!" George said before he pulled the car over to the right lane. The car started to lose acceleration despite his attempts to push the gas pedal down. "What the fuck?" George asked himself as he veered off the road and came to a stop. George stepped out of the car and popped open the hood to see if he could identify the problem. Not being familiar with cars, he stared blankly at the engine for a few moments before he closed the hood feeling like a helpless damsel. George stepped back into the car and pushed the ignition button but it would not start. George reached for his cell phone to call the rental company and saw no bars. He kept pressing buttons, but he kept receiving no service. "Where am I? French Polynesia?" George replied cursing his luck. 'Jesus Christ, what a place to get stuck', George thought as he saw cars and trucks whipping past his vehicle, shaking it somewhat. George tried his phone again, but received no service once more. "No! No! No! This can't be happening," George moaned before he pushed his forehead into the steering wheel, inadvertently causing the horn to sound. The sound of the blaring horn made George pull his head off the steering wheel as his heart started to race. George mumbled to himself as he shifted the car into drive. He stepped out the car and felt his uneven heels beneath his feet. The sensation beneath him made George roll his eyes before he groused aloud, "Couldn't pack a pair of flats, George, could you? Great planning!" George sighed as he looked at the back of his car. He pressed his back against it and began pushing it down the shoulder. "This must make a sight," George said shaking his head as the vehicle began to move behind him. After a few minutes, a tow truck driver spotted him and pulled his vehicle over to the side. "Hey, do you need any help there, lady," the man asked with a smile. "How much for a tow into the nearest town? I can't get any reception out here." "Yes, it's a dead spot at the moment, but they're working on getting a tower up, but there are some neighbors fighting it." "How much for the tow?" George asked again. George nodded in response to the man's answer. It was almost the entire amount of cash he had on hand, but not wanting to show the man the male name of his credit and debit cards, George knew that he would have to part with it to keep on his journey. George agreed to the amount and the tow truck driver began to maneuver his vehicle around George's rental car. George shook his head as he watched the car being hooked up to the tow truck. "Just my luck," George groused before the tow truck driver told him to get into the vehicle. George thanked the man for letting him ride with him as he struggled to enter the elevated truck cabin in his heels. The man smiled at George's difficulties and said, "This truck wasn't made for classy looking ladies." "I can imagine," George replied as he pulled himself into the vehicle. He pulled his door closed before the truck driver said, "We're going to a repair shop, right?" "I don't know." "What do you mean? That car is too new to just junk it." "It's a rental car." "Oh." "I need to contact the rental company to get me a replacement and figure out how they want to handle the lemon they stuck me with." "Hopefully they'll make some lemonade with it," the man cracked as he pulled them back onto the highway. "I just hope it won't take that long for them to get me a new car." "Where are you off to?" George told him his destination. The truck driver looked at George cross-eyed for a minute before he said, "That's a hell of a drive for just one lady all by herself." "I've done it before." "In heels?" "What's that supposed to mean?" George asked, feeling vulnerable. "I've never seen any girl drive a car in heels for that length of time," the man responded, putting George at ease. "How many have you seen drive in heels?" "Well, I've seen a few get out of cars. I'd, personally, never let a woman drive me nowhere." George smiled and said, "Too much of a gentleman to let a woman drive?" "Yes, let's go with that," the truck driver answered with a smile. "Thanks for stopping by the way," George replied. "It's my job. Plus, it's always nice to do it for a pretty girl." "You're too nice." "No, I'm not. You're a looker." George grinned and said, 'I wonder what you would think if you saw me without makeup.' "Plus you made my day." "How so?" "I got a nice chuckle out you?" "Why's that?" "I can't remember ever seeing a dainty lady like you pushing a car in such pretty shoes. That's why you've got to bring a man with you. Then, it's his problem and you're behind the wheel." "I thought I was making quite a sight," George admitted before wondering, 'How dainty am I really?' "I was just stunned that some gentleman didn't stop to help you ," the man then said. "People aren't like that these days." "Too true. The young men probably looked at you and maybe tweeted a picture to their buddies for a laugh or thought it was more important to play Call of Duty than to, maybe, pickup a date with a pretty lady. Priorities, am I right?" "You're also assuming they know how to work on cars." The man laughed before he admitted, "Yes, many of the guys this day are nothing more than glorified chicks with dicks." George blushed as he wondered again if the truck driver was onto him, but he gave no signs that he was. Still, the words stuck with George as he knew that he was like the men that the driver was targeting with his comments before he responded, "I think that you're being a little harsh." "Maybe, but it would be just a real little. My boys are useless as tits on a bull when it comes to a man's work." "What do they do?" "One does computers, one's getting his doctorate in some sort of chemistry and the other's just a bum." "Well, the computer guy and grad student, they seem like they're doing something with themselves." "Oh, they're not dumb. Still, you ask them for a socket wrench and they look at you like a monkey and then hand you a hammer!" "They're not handy?" "Not a one of them. Not even the bum!" "What does the bum do?" "He sponges off his girlfriend and smokes pot all day. Also not a stupid kid, just lazy and utterly useless." George did not want to reply to the man's response as he pulled off the highway. They made their way down to a repair shop that was affiliated with the tow truck driver's employer. George paid the man his fee before he explained the situation to the repair shop. They nodded as George stepped into his stalled out vehicle to make a call to the rental company. George explained the situation before the rental car told him that they could get him a replacement car tomorrow. "What if I get the car you gave me fixed today? You have to fix it anyway?" "We have crews for that," the rental company representative replied. "I can't wait until tomorrow." "Well, you can wait for the replacement car or you can find another means of transportation" the representative replied. "But I'm at a repair shop now. If we leave the car here, they'll impound it!" "Sir, we've already got a lock on car with our GPS. We'll call over to the station and make an arrangement with them for letting us park there overnight." "This is fucking ridiculous. Just let them fix the car!" "Sir, if it was up to me, I would, but there are procedures that come from upstairs." "Can I speak to upstairs then?" "Upstairs is a figure of speech, they're really down in Florida, and they don't take calls from customers." "Who's going to be a repeat customer after being treated like this?" "Sir, I don't not like the tone of your voice." "I don't like the fucking answer you're giving me!" "Sir, we're making more than reasonable accommodations for you." "Reasonable accommodations? What the fuck am I going to do until tomorrow? Sleep in the fucking car in front of the repair shop?" "Sir, we will put you up in a hotel." "What hotel?" "Well, there's only one in a fifty mile radius and it's a few blocks from where you are now." "Where?" George shook his head as he took down the address to input it into his phone's mapping application. "This is total bullshit!" George said to himself as he hung up the phone. He then tossed the phone into his pocketbook before he began banging the back of his head against the seat rest. "Fucking car," George shouted as he punched the dashboard. "Son of a bitch," George then yelped while he rubbed his hand and nearly doubled over in pain. George's hand stung as he felt a slight relief that he did not appear to have broken it, knowing that a trip to the emergency room would require some real explanations to the attending staff. George writhed for a few moments until he collected himself as he got out of the car. George went into the repair shop to tell them what the rental car company told him. They noted that the company had called them and made arrangements for the car. George nodded before he asked if they were familiar with the hotel the company had directed him to. They gave him a blank look before one man said, "I know that place. It's a dump." "A dump?" "Yes, well it's the only game in town so they can pretty much do what they want." "Who the hell would come here?" "Families and friends of people mostly. Sometimes, their families or friends don't have a place for them, so they stay at the lodge. And other times, guys bring their hookers up there..." "Oh, God!" George murmured. The man's boss smacked his subordinate behind his head and said, "You don't tell a girl she's staying at a hooker motel, unless she's a hooker." "Sorry! God, man," the worker said as he rubbed the back of his head. "How far away is it?" George interjected. "It's about a half mile walk." George nodded before he thanked the men and decided to walk towards the motel. He took his bag out of the trunk and wheeled it down the side walk with his pocketbook hanging off his other shoulder. George stepped around puddles that had formed at the bottom of the driveways to the various homes and businesses along the road. George smiled as he saw the sign for the motel come into his view. "Thank God," George said to himself as he could not wait to get out of his heels for a few moments. As he stared up at the motel's wall sign, a car whipped by on the road. The sound sent a chill up his spine before he felt the sullied water slapping against his legs, hands and face. The feeling sent George reeling before he caught himself before he lost his balance in his heels. He pursed his lips and stomped his right foot before he looked down and saw the muddy water spots on his light colored skirt, white top and his patterned tights. George took a few deep breaths before he was splashed again. Less muddy water was splashed upon him than before as he moved further away from the road. George shuddered as he shook his head at his soiled clothes before he moved quickly towards the motel with his head down. The sight of the muddy water splatter partially obscuring some the fleur-de-lis of his tights made George's head shake as he muttered, "They sure don't look regal now. I feel more like a damn peasant." As George's anger subsided, he got a good look at the 1950's exterior of the motel that had not been painted in years. George shook his head at the building as he continued towards it, thinking, 'What a crap hole. Did they put me up in the Bates Motel?' George pushed his way through lobby door and was greeted by the motel desk clerk behind the counter. He then repeated to the women what the rental company had told him. "Oh, yes, we did get a reservation called in by them," the women replied before she pulled up the reservation. She came to a stop before she said, "Oh, this can't be. This reservation is in the name of a Mr. George Mallon." George looked around the empty lobby before he said, "That's me." "Miss, you're not a Mr. George Mallon." "Yes, I am," George replied. "A miss can't be a mister" the desk clerk rejoined. "Yes, I can," George replied dropping into a baritone. The desk clerk gave him a blank look with an agape mouth before she shook her head. The look of disgust that followed was not unexpected by George as she replied, "We've had your type around here before." George gave her a blank look in response before she continued, "Try not to leave your vibrator for our staff to clean up. It's disgusting." The clerk's words left George mortified as he took the keys from her hand. He walked out of the lobby and towards his motel room in silence. George pushed his key into the lock of the door and made his way inside. As he entered the room, George looked over the carpeting and the walls that had clearly not been painted in many years with a frown. "Just what I needed," George mumbled to himself as he wheeled his bag towards the foot of his bed and left it there. George looked at the television and reached for the remote that was bolted to the end table between the two full size beds. 'I didn't know that any place still did this', George thought as he clicked the television on. The picture was slightly blurry as he squinted his eyes to try to focus the moving images. George shook his head, knowing that the picture on the screen would give him a headache in no time. George shut the television off and figured that an early dinner and an early trip to bed would be the best course of action for his health. He went into the bathroom and freshened up his makeup before he decided to search the town for a place to eat. George grabbed his pocketbook and headed out of his hotel room. As George made his way to the sidewalk along the street, he caught sight of a diner a block north of the motel. "That'll do," George muttered to himself as he began to walk towards the diner. George watched the ground below, careful not to catch his heels in the crevasses of the concrete beneath his feet. George moved towards the door of the building and greeted the man behind the counter before the man came over to seat George at a table. George thanked the man as he took the menu and sat down. After ordering, George watched the television in the diner that was playing a local news feed. George listened to the reports and daydreamed about being back at his house and lounging around it in his lingerie. The waitress's delivery of his food stirred George from his fanciful thoughts before he began to eat his meal. As George ate his meal, he overheard the diner owner noting how he could not find a girl to cover the shift that night because of a flu outbreak. "Call it the flu all you like, we all know its salmonella," George heard a customer note from his booth. "Shut up, Sal," the owner retorted. George smiled as he thought about what the owner had noted. George had worked as a waiter during his college years to help pay his way through school. Most of the girls he worked with had to wear white shirts and black pants that were similar to what he wore, so he was never jealous of them while they worked. There were girls that he had seen at other restaurants and diners though that he could only daydream about being. The idea of working a table in a skirt made George's member stir while he finished his meal before he found the nerve to say something to the owner. "Sir, I couldn't help overhearing you," George said as he finished chewing and stood up. "What's that, Miss?" The owner replied. "I heard that you're down a girl." "I'm down more than a girl. I'm down three girls. I only got two to work the night shift." "When does that shift start?" "About an hour." "And it ends?" "About 1 or 2 in the morning." George smiled as he said, "I have some experience in this field." "How much?" "About four years of it." "So you're a waitress?" "I was a waitress." "Was? How long ago?" George admitted the truth prompting the owner to exclaim, "That's ten years ago, Miss" "Has asking for orders and carrying trays really changed all that much in ten years?" George retorted. "You got me there, Missy. Desperate times do call for desperate measures, so you're hired if you want the job for the night. It's minimum wage plus tips." "What's the dress code?" "Black." "Black?" "My girls were black. Black tops, black pants, black sneakers." "Oh." "Is that a problem?" "I don't have any of those things." "What kind of girl doesn't have that kind of stuff?" "I'm a bit of a girly girl," George replied, struggling not to laugh. The owner nodded at George's skirted outfit and said, "Do you have a black dress and a clean pair of black tights," as he looked at the mud stains on George's hosiery. George nodded before the owner said, "We could make this work. You've just got to put on a pair of flats." "Is there a store around here?" "For shoes?" "Yes." "There's a Wal-Mart about twenty miles east, but the only thing closer is the secondhand store right across the street." "That sounds like the right place for me," George replied with a smile. "A believer in the thrift store Chic idea?" "Why not?" "In my day, the only people that shopped at a second hand store had to shop a second hand store?" "Trying to guilt me?" "A little, but can you be back here in an hour?" "Sure. Let me just pay my bill," George replied as he dug through his purse and left a tip on the table before he paid for his meal at the register. "See you in an hour," George said as he stepped out the door and headed across the street. George then hurried across the street and made his way into the store. The clerk behind the counter smiled and asked, "What can I do you for, Miss?" "I was looking to see if you had any shoes in stock." "We got plenty. They're on the racks in the back of the store by the clothes." "Thanks," George replied with a wave as he made his way towards the back of the store. George looked over the used shoes. There were a few shoes in his size and he found the pair of black flats that he knew he could work in all night. George carried them to the register to have them rung up. George felt bad about buying shoes from the store, as his mother's chiding that he was taking away clothes and shoes from people who needed them during his Clash inspired adolescence entered his mind. The clerk did not give George any disagreeable look as he punched in the amount of the shoes into the cash register. George reached into his pocketbook and pulled out his cash before he paid the clerk. Once the clerk gave him his receipt and change, George headed out the door. After he exited the shop, George hurried back to his hotel room. George unlocked the door and pushed the door open. He looked at the clock and decided to hurry up as he stripped out of clothes and redressed in the black, elbow length sleeved, above the knee, A-line dress he packed as well as a clean pair of black tights. Once he finished dressing, George headed into the bathroom to touch up his makeup and tie up his hair into a ballerina bun to keep it from getting in the way at work. George made sure to keep the strands of his hairs at the front his head running across his hairline even as he tied them back into the bun. George grinned at the bun behind his head, as its unmistakable girlishness made him revel in the illusion of his femininity. With some effort, George tore himself away from the mirror and took hold of his new shoes. George put his feet into them and felt comfortable in his new used shoes before he took hold of his purse. George nodded as he checked himself one last time in the mirror near the front door of the hotel room before he reached for the door knob. After locking up his hotel room, George made the short walk back to the diner. He entered through the front door and waved at the owner. The owner motioned for George to come over to him. George listened as the man explained what was expected of him before he told George to grab an apron from the kitchen. George nodded before he walked into the kitchen and looked at the busy kitchen staff. He looked for the aprons for a bit before he asked one employee where it was. The man gave George a blank look, not understanding enough English to understand George's request before his supervisor told George where they were kept. George thanked the man and grabbed the black waist apron. George tied it around his waist before he saw a stack of order pads and pens. George took one of each and put them into the pockets of his waist apron. After admiring the way the waist apron strings made his dress hug his hips even closer, George stepped out of the kitchen and started back towards the owner. The owner defined George's sector for the night to him. George nodded as he noted which tables he would be responsible for before the first patrons arrived. Once the first patrons were seated in his sector, George made his way over to them and greeted the couple. The couple gave him a smile and politely greeted him before he asked if they wanted anything to drink. The couple gave George their drink order before he asked if they were ready to order. They advised that they needed a few minutes before George excused himself to get their drinks. Once he finished pouring their sodas, George carried them back to the table and placed them upon it. The couple then put in their order. George jotted it down before he turned and placed the order in the kitchen. Shortly thereafter, another two groups of people were seated in his sector. George brought out the complimentary coleslaw and pickles and two plates and headed to the first table to give them to the couple. George then straightened up his apron before he made his way over to the new tables and took their orders and made his way to and from behind the service counter where the drinks were located. As George stepped behind the counter again to get drinks for another table, he saw the two other waitresses working that night behind the counter. George wanted to approach them and see how they treated him as a near equal. George was used to women reporting to him at his business, and he was excited about the prospect of not being the boss for once. "Hi, girls," George said with a wave before he introduced himself. The two women greeted George warmly and thanked him for pitching in that night. George was immediately taken by Parker, who was younger than he was and strikingly pretty. George intently watched the movements of her lithe body as she talked and worked behind the counter with a smile. The older waitress, Sally, noticed it, but did not see anything unusual about George's fixation on Parker. Sally had seen it before, and even caught herself marveling at Parker from time to time, often with a hint of jealously that she had not been as beautiful during her youth. Sally shook her head as George asked Parker, "So what's a girl got to do to get a good tip around here?" Parker grinned as she replied, "You stick out your ass and practically invite the guys to slap it." "Don't listen to her. Parker can get away with saying that kind of stuff because everyone around here knows she's got a biker boyfriend who will kick their ass if they even say anything crass to her," Sally added. "You always say that," Parker rejoined. "Because it's true, honey. You think you're the first pretty young thing to come in here, flirt with the guys and have her boyfriend on speed dial just in case things get out of hand? I've seen it with a thousand other girls, honey. You ain't no different," Sally retorted. "How long have you been doing this?" George inquired as he turned towards Sally. "Fifty years. I started when I was 16, and I'll keep at it until they replace me with a damn machine or I die," Sally answered. "That won't happen," George replied with a laugh. "They're already starting, putting those little computer pads down so you can punch in your own order," Sally retorted. "Here?" George asked. "No, at Applebee's. We're going to be next. It's just a matter of time before we're all replaced by machines." "What is she talking about?" George asked Parker. "She's talking about tablets." "They're using tablets at restaurants? Well, I guess you can't stop progress." "You can, if you destroy the machines," Sally rejoined. George laughed as he replied, "You can't be a Luddite." "Everyone says that until it's your job they're after, then, suddenly, you're the Luddite." "What's a Luddite? Is that like a Sodomite?" Parker inquired. George and Sally each gave Parker a blank stare before they laughed and Sally answered, "No, those are queers, honey. You know those girly boys who prance around in frilly little things and acting like queens." George struggled not to blush at the statement before he added, "Luddites are against progress." "Yes, progress. That's a word I hear a lot," Sally retorted as she poured a cup of coffee. "My boyfriend says it's becoming a post employment society," Parker replied. "He doesn't happen to have a truck driver for a father, does he?" George inquired. "How did you guess?" "Dumb luck." "Really?" "No, I think I ran into him earlier today." "Don't let that old bastard poison you on my Jake. He's a good guy, really," Parker said. "I'll take your word for it," George replied before he fetched the drinks for the table. He brought them over before the first orders of food were ready for delivery. George took the two meals in his hands and carried them over to the couple. The couple thanked George before they had him freshen up their drinks. Shortly after George did so, George heard the bell ring and saw that his next order was ready to be brought out. George set up the larger order on a serving tray. It had been a while since he used one, and George was afraid that he would be out of practice as he carried it through the room. George made the sign of the cross on his body before he picked up the serving tray. The sound of the items moving a little on the tray unnerved him, but George grew more confident as he made his way back to his sector. George placed the tray down on another table and handed out the food to the patrons at the table. After asking if they needed anything else, George put away the tray and went over to another table that had just finished being setup. George took their drink orders before he went back to retrieve them. George struggled to keep a grip on each of the drinks as he brought them back to the table, but he managed to avoid dropping them. George then took their orders before he placed it in the kitchen. As George entered the kitchen, he paused for a second to make a little more small talk with Sally before he carried out another tray of meals for a table. George felt more secure carrying the tray as his one time familiarity with it returned to him. After George handed out the meals, he bumped into Parker as he went to get refills for one of his table's drinks. Parker grinned and asked how he was enjoying himself. George shrugged and said he had no complaints, struggling to conceal his giddiness at being around so many people en femme with no seemingly be cognizant to that fact. George went back to working his tables and took little breaks throughout the night when he could, sneaking an opportunity to talk with Sally or Parker whenever the opportunity arose to break up the monotony of the job. George was not surprised to find that the girls talked much differently to one another than the men and women he once worked with as a waiter did. The situation excited George and the cash tips he made seemed like as an added bonus for him. Parker and Sally could not understand why he was smiling throughout his shift and, finally, asked him towards the end of the night. Before George could answer, the diner owner interjected, "Instead of asking why she's smiling, why don't you two get to smiling yourselves." The girls sent a joking barb back at their boss that he laughed at before George said, "Sometimes you're just happy where you are." The girls shook their heads with smiles as they got back to work. George went back to his sector and continued waiting on the tables. As his shift ended and the diner closed, George helped the staff cleanup the establishment before he said goodbye to everyone. The owner thanked him again as he gave him the money for his shift. "I kept you off the books, honey," the man said with a wink. 'I didn't think you'd put me on the books for a day', George thought as he thanked the man for the below minimum wage pay he had been handed. George smiled as he compared the amount of money in his hands to his typical days pay. Even with the tips included, he typically made more in an hour than he did for his entire shift. 'This takes me back', George thought. George turned his attention away from his money to saying goodbye to the people he met. While he found it easy to do so for the most part, saying goodbye to Parker was significantly harder. He was attracted to Parker, but he knew that he was not her type, especially since she did not even know that he was a man. 'I another lifetime', George bemoaned before he went back to his motel room. George unlocked the door and locked it behind him before he stripped and took a shower. "I really hope this place doesn't have hidden cameras everywhere," George muttered to himself as he dried himself off and climbed into the lumpy bed. The bed felt uncomfortable beneath George as he tossed and turned for over an hour before his overall weariness let him fall asleep. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The sound of garbage trucks in the motel parking lot stirred George the next morning. He rolled towards the side of his bed and saw the time on the alarm clock and knew that it was time to get up. George groaned as he rolled out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. The familiar unmade up face that greeted him, struck George as repellently masculine without any trace of makeup, despite his lack of stubble. George stepped into the shower and washed himself for a few minutes before he dried himself off and decided to get dressed. He put on his falsies and underwear, as well as the dress and tights he had worn during his shift the night before he walked back into the bathroom. After drying and styling his hair, George went through his well practiced routine of putting on his makeup and jewelry. With each cosmetic applied to his face and each piece of jewelry added his ensemble, George felt more confident in his appearance and surer that he would pass himself off as a woman, just as he had the day before. George called up the car company and asked if his car was being delivered. The company gave him the estimated time based on the GPS in the car that was being driven to him and George thanked them. George then packed up his bag and put on his heels before he headed out of the motel room. George went into the lobby and saw a different person behind the desk. George gave them the key to his motel room before he checked out to wait for the car to be dropped off for him. George saw a rental car coming and smiled as it came to a stop. The man looked around before he went to get back into the car. "Who are you looking for?" George asked, as he stomach sank, realizing that the man was looking for George Mallon and not someone who could pass himself of as a Donna. The man smiled as he replied, "I'm dropping off a replacement car for a guy." "Who?" "Hold on," the man said before he looked at his cell phone, "George Mallon." "I can take the keys," George replied. The man laughed as he said, "No, Miss. I've got to give them to George. He has to sign for it." "What if I said I could?" The man gave George a curious look before his eyes examined George's facial features that struck him as unisexual and ambiguous. George's feet were also larger than most women his height. The man broke the silence between them as he said, "Really?" "Yes," George replied, squirming a little. "Can I see some ID?" George nodded as he pulled his license out of his pocketbook. The man noticed that the man in the picture had the same facial features as the person standing before him in tights and a dress. He handed George the keys and said, "Enjoy, Georgie." George saw the man rolling his eyes as he turned away and got a form for George to sign. George signed it before the man asked where the first rental car was. George directed him down the block before the man started to make the walk. "Well, I'll be in a lot of tall tales at his office," George muttered to himself as he reached for the driver's side door to the car. After getting behind the wheel of the car, George remembered that Parker had told him that she was working the morning shift at the diner. George daydreamed about bringing her back home with her. She was the kind of girl that his father would be proud of him dating or marrying, even though he knew what a disappointment he would be if his father saw him at that moment. George drove to the diner and pulled into the parking lot. George stopped himself from exiting the car after he parked it. 'Can I really go through with this?' George asked himself, unsure if he could workup the nerve to tell Parker the truth and try to steal her away from her boyfriend en femme. The more he thought about it, the more unlikely and foolish it seemed as he began to have an internal conversation with himself about what would happen if he tried to do it. 'Girls love a knight in shinning armor coming to rescues the damsel.' 'Yes, but not when the knight looks a damsel and the only thing shinning is his patent leather pumps', another voice in George's head countered. 'I can save her from that loser.' 'Who said she wanted to be "saved"? Did you ever think she might be happy to feel needed, even if it's by a bum? Everyone wants to feel important to someone.' 'I can do this.' 'You can bring yourself to do it, but what's it going to get you? What do you think she'll say, George? Oh, I know you told me that you're Donna, but I'll forgive that deception because you happen to think I'm pretty. Oh, and lets forget that I'm a heterosexual girl dating a biker, but I just happen to think a guy in a pretty dress is just fine.' George wiped a tear from his eye as he realized the foolishness of his thoughts. He knew that Parker was not the one for him as he pulled out of the parking lot. George drove down the road that led back to the highway. George pulled onto the service road before getting onto the onramp and merging into traffic. Trying to put Parker out of his mind, George turned up the music on the radio and decided to speedup to makeup for lost time. George kept it mostly straight and steady, but occasionally saw the need to speedup and cut people off that he felt were not driving fast enough. George was making great time as the fifth hour of his drive drew on before he saw the flashing lights behind. George waited for them to pass him, but he soon realized that the cop was solely trained on him. "Oh, shit!" George exclaimed. George shook his head and remembered why he had cautioned himself against aggressive driving the day before. George changed lanes and pulled over. The cop came to a stop behind him. George watched with knots in his stomach as the cop slowly moved to his vehicle, trying to get a good look at George and the contents of his car. The cop came over to George's window as George pushed the button to roll it down as he looked at the officer. "Ma'am, do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The cop inquired. "No, sir," George answered. "You were doing 90 in a 55!" The cop replied with a stern voice that unnerved George. "90? Really? Oh, my! I was just trying to keep up with traffic." "Miss, you cut off three people while I was following you before I turned on my lights." "Oh," George replied as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh, indeed," the cop retorted before he asked for George's license and registration. George's hand trembled as he opened his pocketbook and removed his license and handed it to the cop before he reached for the glove compartment to take out the rental car's paperwork. "Miss, this is a man's license. Did you and your husband mix up each other's licenses?" The cop inquired. "No," George admitted while squirming. "Then, where's your license?" "You have it right there." "You can't be telling me that your name is George Mallon." "But it is," George replied before noting, "Look at my bone structure." The cop stared at the picture and then at George. His eyes widened before he did it again and exclaimed, "Jesus H. Christ! I get all the sickos! Sir, please get out of the car." "What was that?" George asked. "Sir, please get out of the car!" "Why?" "You're under arrest for reckless driving." "Oh, God," George said, trembling as he got to his feet. The cop turned him around and cuffed George's hands behind his back before he was brought to the squad car and read his Miranda rights. George shook as he was pushed into the backseat. George's mind raced as the cop made arrangements to have George's rental car impounded. Once backup arrived to retrieve the car, the officer pulled away from the shoulder and began driving George to the precinct. George cursed himself as the squad car maneuvered through the streets to the precinct. 'Why couldn't I have just taken it slow like I planned?' George wondered, struggling to keep from crying. George was brought inside the precinct and booked before he was told that he could go before a judge that afternoon. That made George feel a little relieved, but he worried about how long it would take to resolve his legal issues. George was put into a holding cell alone. George was thankful for the courtesy from the police, but the more he thought about it, the more he figured they were probably worried that some other detainee would harm him in police custody, possibly subjecting them to a lawsuit or internal police discipline. The hours he spent waiting to leave the cell moved by at a snail's pace for George. He felt that he was going to die of embarrassment over being arrested en femme. He knew that the cops were getting jokes in at his expense and prayed the local papers did not think it was worthy enough of a mention. "Christ, what if the story goes viral? The girls at work will never let me live it down," George muttered to himself as he crossed his arms and rocked back and forth in his cell. George absent mindedly rubbed his hands against his tights covered legs as he rocked back and forth, but he did not feel any excitement from the sensations as his mind was distracted. The fear of embarrassment was secondary to George's fear of what type of sentence he might receive for his crime. George kept trying to reassure himself and hoped that he would get away relatively unscathed. After waiting alone for a few hours in a holding cell, George cell was opened. Two officers walked in and handcuffed him again before he was led out of the cell. George struggled to keep from falling over as his legs felt weak beneath him as he took nervous steps in his heels. George was lead out of the precinct and taken towards a prison bus. The sight of the barred windows scared George while he walked up to it. It was unlike any other bus he had ever seen in person as he boarded it. The derisive looks and jeers he received from the men being transported with him as he got on it did not make matters any more palatable for him. "Leave the bitch alone with us for a few minutes," one man shouted out. George shivered as the other men's violence tinged and sexually charged statements made him feel more afraid than he could ever remember feeling as tears started to come down his cheeks. It was only the presence of the steely eyed, apathetic looking guards that helped him calm down a little, as he knew that he would likely not be raped in their presence. During the short ride to the court house, George's tights covered knees banged together as he tried to keep the men's continued jeers out of his mind. After the bus came to a stop, George was relieved when they were let out and brought inside. George felt sickened by the prospect of further humiliations as he was brought into the court house. His status as a non violent, first time offender, however, gave him a little more freedom than most of the men he had been transported with before he was brought in to meet with the Assistant District Attorney. They read him his charges before they offered him a deal as a first time offender. The prospect of no jail time was enough to induce him to waive his right to an attorney and sign the agreement to plead guilty in exchange for a large fine and points on his license. After formalizing the agreement, George waited to go before the judge and plead guilty. When his name was called, George walked up to give his plea. The judge read the charges against George with a smile before she turned to the Assistant District Attorney who advised the judge of the deal they had agreed to. The judge nodded her head as she replied, "And you think this is a fair punishment for this lovely young man?" The judge's comment made George start to worry. He started to shake, which the judge recognized immediately. The Assistant District Attorney replied that it was since it was George's first offense. The judge nodded before she said, "And he's never been picked up for anything? No other speeding offenses, no prostitution?" George's jaw dropped as he came to believe that the judge thought that he was a transvestite hooker merely because he was a cross-dresser. The Assistant District Attorney shook her head, struggling not to laugh. The judge nodded as she turned to George and said with a laugh, "Mr. Mallon. I must thank you for dressing up for your hearing today. Most young men come in here are not as presentable as you. I don't think I'll ever have to tell you to pull up your panties." "Thanks, your honor," George replied blushing. "Those are lovely pumps too. I really should get a pair like them. I mean if they make your legs look like that, imagine what they would like on someone who was supposed to wear them." George squirmed in response, which was the judge's intended effect while the Assistant District Attorney grinned at the judge. The court then accepted the plea and George was sent to pay the fine. He found an ATM machine to make the payment before he was allowed to reclaim his belongings. As George took his purse and luggage back, he asked about his rental car. The staff advised him that the rental company had reclaimed it after being advised that it was impounded. George hung his head, knowing that it was pointless to call the rental company for another car. George thanked the women behind the counter as he reached into his pocketbook and grabbed his cell phone. He used a search function to find a bus stop and headed there on foot after changing into his flats to give his aching feet a rest. As George reached the bus stop, he sat down upon the metal bench and breathed a sigh of relief. His mind wandered to kill the boredom as he waited over a half an hour for the bus to pull up in front of the curb. George wondered what the cops must have been saying once he was put into the cell. A smile came across his face as thought about what the judge had said to him. 'I probably made her year. She's finally got something out of the box to bring up with her family and friends', George thought with a laugh. Once the bus came, George wasted no time in getting to his feet and hurrying aboard. He paid his fare and moved towards an open seat on the bus that was crowded from the evening rush-hour crowd. The bus struck George as more than a little dirty, but he knew that it was a substantial upgrade from the bus he had ridden on earlier that afternoon. The few homeless people around him disturbed George, especially as some of them mumbled and sang to themselves. The occasional flirtations from some of the men on the bus did little to put George at ease either. Still, it was a marked improvement from the violence tinged, sexually suggestive comments he received from the men who knew that he was really man in drag. After the bus reached a bus terminal, George exited the local bus and went inside the pre-World War 2 era building. The building was decorated with ornate architecture, but it was dilapidated from years of substandard cleaning and maintenance. George admired the overall design of the building as he made his through it to the ticket window. George searched the boards for the best destination before he purchased a ticket for the bus that would bring him closest to his home. Although his destination point was almost hundred miles from his home, he knew that the train station at the end of bus's itinerary had trains that ran to a station a mere five miles from his home. After paying for his bus fare, George needed to relieve himself. He walked towards the women's bathroom with a sense of trepidation. George pushed the door open and checked to see if any women could be seen. Relieved to see that the bathroom was empty, George wheeled his luggage into the bathroom and headed for a stall. The substandard cleanliness of the facility turned his stomach, since George knew that he had to sit on the toilet seat to maintain appearances if any woman walked into the bathroom while he was in the stall. George furrowed his brow as he unrolled the toilet paper dispenser to create a toilet seat cover. Despite the layers of toilet paper on the seat, George was still apprehensive about the cleanliness as he rested his rear and thighs upon it. George felt dirty as he finished, stood back up, retucked his member and pulled his tights and panties to his waist. George then tossed the toilet paper into the toilet and flushed it before he wheeled his luggage over to the sink. He washed his hands and touched up his makeup before he made sure that everything on his body was still hanging on straight. Once George finished in the bathroom, he went into the lobby to await the overnight bus. He broke up his wait by heading over to a small kiosk to buy some snacks to tide him over before he got to the rail station. George started to eat the snacks as he watched the sole television in the terminal as it played a local news station. He tried to keep his attention on the news reports as he struggled not to fall asleep in the terminal while other riders, staff and vagrants passed him by. As the arrival of George's bus was announced over the public address system, George struggled to find the energy to get to his feet. George let out a sigh as he stood up before he stretched his back from side to side. Once George finished stretching, he collected his belongings and made his way to the bus. George showed the driver his ticket before he took a seat. The stresses of the day caught up with George as he rested in his seat on the bus. He fought against it, but he soon surrendered to his urge to rest his eyes and fall asleep. George awoke several hours later as the bus came to a stop and people around him began to scurry to get off at the train station. George stretched as he stood up and yawned. The tenor of his yawn struck a few people in earshot as strange, but none of them was interested enough to investigate it further so early in the morning. The realization made George blush before he looked out the window. George was surprised to see that the sun had already risen as he collected his purse and luggage and made his way off the bus. George made his way to the ticket window line in the train station and stood on it. Once he was called forward, George told the women behind the window where he wanted to go. She gave him the fare amount before George reached into his pocketbook. Not immediately grabbing it, George opened his bag's zipper all the way and stared inside it with a slacked jaw. He shook his head as he realized that his wallet was missing. "You've got to be shitting me!" George exclaimed. "What is it, Ma'am?" The clerk behind the window asked, surprised by the change in George's tone of voice. "My wallet's been stolen," George replied with a tremor in his voice, but careful to speak in a higher tone than he had exclaimed in seconds earlier. "Are you sure?" "Yes, I'm sure!" "Are you sure, you didn't lose it?" "I had it when I got on the bus, and, now I don't!" "Who could have stolen it on the bus?" "Anyone! I nodded off for a bit." "Oh, so you didn't see anything? I can get in touch with the cops for you, but..." "Don't bother," George replied waving her off as he did not want to deal with the police again after what he had been through the day before. He stepped off the line and moved towards the train station exit. George looked at his jewelry and his luggage and thought he could get a few bucks for them. He looked at a cab driver who was waiting to get a passenger and asked, "Hey, sir, do you know if there are any pawn shops around here?" "You looking for cheap money, baby? I've got a job for you right here," the cabbie replied as he motioned with his hand. George's stomach churned as he prayed it would not come to that before he responded, "Thanks anyway." A man overheard the cabby's sta