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My Weekend as a Cleaner Belladonna [Author's Note: This is my second partially autobiographical story. The names and some events have been changed to protect the innocent.] I have to admit that I was not sold on the idea when Derek pitched it to me. I was trusting of my friend though, and he was open minded enough to ask. Derek has been my best friend since childhood. We've shared everything over the years and nothing has ever come between us, not even when he came out. I was the first person he confided in. I was not all that surprised by it though. Derek's relationships with girls always seemed somewhat forced. He was trying to be someone he was not, and I was hardly alone in assuming that he was secretly gay. Our relationship, however, was the sort were you don't care what the other really gets off on. As long as it was adult humans, I was okay with it, as I took care to remind Derek a few times in private before he finally came out. Derek's coming out of the closet was freeing for him. I could see the relief in his face as he said the words to me that frightened him most, "I'm gay." "I know," I replied before I gave him a bro-hug. I loved him like a brother and made sure that he knew that we were as strong as ever. He was still nervous when he told me. He feared what his sister would say or what his parents would say or do when they got wind of it. His fears ended up being partially unfounded. His immediate family accepted it, even though some in his extended family were less than understanding. Derek was in near tears as I hugged him before he said with half a laugh, "I'm happy you can be friends with such a degenerate." "What makes you a degenerate?" I asked. "Being a homo," he sniffed. "That's it? You should try being me for a day," I cracked. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. I hesitated before I spoke the words that had been in my heart for years, "I'm a sissy." He laughed and said, "You're little prissy for a dude, but that doesn't make you gay." "Who said I was gay?" I replied. "Well, if you're a sissy..." "No. Sissies aren't all gay. Some are, but most gay guys are just guys, like straight guys are guys." "So, what make's you a sissy?" he asked, confused by my reasoning. "What makes me a degenerate?" I replied. "Which is?" I blushed as I answered, "I like to wear girls stuff from time to time." "You wear girls clothing...sometimes?" He asked before starting to laugh. "I would prefer it to be all the time, but, you know, life sucks," I admitted with a shrug of my shoulders. Derek continued to laugh as he said, "Are you fucking with me? You're just trying to make me feel better." "Oh, I wish," I replied. Derek shook his head as he responded, "So, you're a tranny?" "Sort of." "Okay, what's the difference?" "A tranny just likes to dress up like a girl and be treated like a girl. I like to be a girl who's under someone's thumb." "What?" Derek replied, breaking out laughing. "You feel better about yourself now?" I asked. He continued to laugh before he nodded. "You see, you thought that you had problems," I retorted. After that exchange, our very close relationship grew even closer. I stood by him by every insult he took from some of his so-called friends. I divorced myself from them too. If they couldn't accept him, I wasn't going to concern by myself with them. God only knows what those assholes would say if they knew what was in my squishy, sissy heart. Fortunately, most of our friends didn't disown Derek. Some adjusted to it slower than others did, but we built up a nice clique of friends over the years that we share to this day. Still, they all know about Derek, but Derek's the only one who knows about me. There was a time when Derek did not quite believe me. It took me over a year before I got the courage to let him see me in drag for the first time. He was really amused by it more than anything. He said that he was surprised that I looked as good as I did, which I, graciously if I might say so myself, willingly took as a compliment. Once Derek finally accepted that I was a cross-dresser, he came to understand some of my fantasies about being a maid or a secretary or, just about, any role on the lower end of stereotypically female professions. Mind you, I've never told him about my dirtiest fantasies, but the physically down and dirty ones, the man knows too well! Despite my predilections for feminine drudgery, I work a somewhat high paying job and am highly educated. Derek is a little less educated, but he makes even more than I do. Like most people our age, we have both come to realize that my step higher degree doesn't really mean a thing. Derek was laughing as he pitched me the idea the second time, "Come on, Jewel, you know you want to." There was no question that I wanted to do it. I loved the idea of stepping in and doing it, but the reality of actually showing up somewhere as a pre-opp transsexual maid was a completely different story. I had never even ventured out into the world en femme other than on Halloween. "It's way too dangerous," I replied. "Who's going to know?" I shook my head, knowing that the likelihood that anyone I knew would see me working, or even walking into, a gay bar en femme would be miniscule. The only openly gay people I knew where Derek, another friend, and some of their friends and ex-boyfriends. "Come on, replacing a Mexican is right up your alley, Shorty," Derek cracked. I laughed a little as I thought about stepping into a cleaner's shoes. She was going to be gone for the weekend to attend a wedding. She did two shifts a day at the bar. One in the morning and one in the afternoon on the weekend. It was just one of many stops for her, and I asked, "Why can't the bartenders clean up?" Derek explained why his friend who co-owned the bar did not trust his bartenders to pickup the modest slack. I knew that some bartenders did not have the follow through to do it. Still, some bar owners expect them to and deal with the substandard results. I'm sure that's why these owners decided to bring in an outside cleaner. "I don't know about this," I replied. "Jewel, it's time for an American to steal a job from a Mexican," Derek joked. "It's just crazy," I responded. Derek's tone grew more serious as he replied, "I spoke to the owner. He really wants to bring someone in for the weekend and when I told him about you..." "Woo...woo...what did you say?" I asked while my stomach sank. "I told him that you were a pre-op, who was trying to scrape up any extra money to help speed up her transition." "And he believed you?" "He doesn't know you from a hole in the wall. Why wouldn't he?" Derek asked with a justifiably incredulous tone. "You shouldn't have lied for me." "If not you, then who I'm going to do it for?" Derek replied with a slight laugh. "Thanks, man, but there's a lot to consider." "Like what?" "Like what's my cover?" "Your cover? What are you an undercover dick?" "No...." "You've always been pretty open about being a dick," Derek said before punctuating his sentence with a laugh. "You know, I heard that gay people were supposed to be nice?" I retorted. "We are nice, just in a catty sort of way," Derek replied with a warm tone. "So catty," I replied. "It doesn't matter though." "Why's that?" "I told them all about you." "About me?" "Well, about the girl they're going to meet." "So, what am I a beggar, stripper, hooker..." "Nothing like that. I said that you had a real job, but you just started transitioning and were let go." "Really playing up the sob story, huh?" "Why not?" "Nicely done," I replied. "I take deceiving my acquaintances very seriously, Jules." I thought about it again and realized that the risk of exposure was microscopic. The kinds of people I moved around with in my professional life did not go to gay neighbors, let alone gay bars. Derek had gone to some trouble to lie to his friend for me to help let me live out a fantasy. It would be wrong of me to rebuff such a gesture I reasoned, thinking far more with my libido than my brain. "Okay, I'll do it." "You will?" Derek replied with a clear mix of excitement, amusement and astonishment. "I will," I replied before we turned our conversation to another area. As we talked, I jotted the dates that I was going to work there. We made some arrangements so that I could stay at Derek's apartment, which was around the corner from the bar. I thought that it was going to be a nice little weekend getaway from my normal, ho-hum life. I grew more excited by the day as the weekend finally approached on the calendar. I knew that not only was I going to have a chance to live out a fantasy, it was going to be chance to experience being an openly cross-dressed man for the first time since college. My college experiences were all in private. I never ventured out, but a mix of foolishness and carelessness led me to exposing my secret to my roommate. Unlike Derek, he was less than understanding about my situation. He only told a few girls about it. While I never heard about it from anyone else, my college life was completely different after that moment. The sole group of girls who knew, other than the two other girlfriends he pranced me around in front of for their amusement, adopted me as their token "gay friend." I didn't fight the label. It was pointless to anyway at that point. Their minds were made up. I accepted that I was gay to them, because, to me, it was no big deal. My "closeted" gayness also helped keep their mouths shut about my cross-dressing, so I went along with it. It was a difficult time for me as I pretended to be gay around them even when they cajoled me into signing up for an adult ballet class at school with them. After that, I was gay to a whole lot of people. That was the easy part. The hard part was trying to keep from getting a boner in my dancer's belt, men's leotard and tights when I was helping, or simply, watching the girls stretch in those outfits. One girl friend noticed once, but she teased me and tried to set me up with the other boy in the room who she swore that I had a thing for. Fortunately, he did not have a thing for me. I think he knew that I wasn't really gay since he seemed somewhat amused by my situation. He never made me explain myself though. I still wonder if he knew that what I really wanted more than anything was to be one of the girls. The boners didn't last long though. Not long before I started ballet classes, I was put on anti-depressants to deal with the stress of the lie I was living. The drugs had the ever so lovely side effect of making me impotent. As you might imagine, spending the remainder of my college years as a prancing, ballet dancing, impotent sissy did wonders for my self-esteem. It was not until a few years after I graduated college that I threw the pills away and accepted who I was and lived openly. I decided if I wanted to be swishy, I would, and screw anyone who said anything about it. I went to Derek's apartment after work on Friday. I parked in a neighborhood-parking garage and made my way over his apartment on foot with my bags. I called up to him before he let me in and brought me up to his apartment. After I put my bags down, I grabbed his spare set of keys for the weekend and took him out to dinner and a movie to thank him for landing me the job. He tried to pay for some of the things, but I said I owed him for all he was doing for me. "Doing to you. What I'm doing to you," he corrected my explanation with a smirk. After we finished up at the movies, we each took a shower. We ended the night with me heading to the daybed in his living room while he went to his bedroom. The next morning, I ate a breakfast of cold cereal, since it was the only thing that Derek had in the apartment that constituted breakfast food other than a solitary pop tart that I left for him. After I finished eating, I stripped out of my clothes and placed my gaff on. I then placed on my bra and stuffed it with the B-cup sized forms that I affixed to my shaved chest with glue. Pulling my hands away from my chest, I reached for my black, polyester dress. I stepped into the fly front dress and brought it up my body before I secured the detachable white pleated collar that let everyone who noticed me know my position. I had worn the dress many times before in private, but this time I was going public with it. I wondered what people would think as my hands found their way into the dress's, side-seam pockets. I took a few deep breaths before I straightened the dress out over my body. Feeling a little more modest in Derek's living room, I decided then to put on my black tights. I rolled them down and pulled them up my legs. Once I finished, I put on a pair of black, ballet flats with a decorative ribbon bow that was little more than glorified shoelaces. The shoes were cheap and had nothing else to them at all. They seemed girly enough to me, but not too over the top for my line of work. After I put on the shoes, I made my way to the bathroom. I smiled at how I looked from the neck down before I pulled my long hair back into a mid high ponytail and did my makeup. I was well practiced at putting it on, which I did in less than half an hour. After I finished applying my makeup, I walked out of the bathroom with my purse in hand. I moved towards the front door, pausing only to place on my woman's black overcoat. As I was about to step out of the apartment, I heard Derek stumbling out of his bedroom. He grinned as he looked at me across the apartment while he shook the sleep out of his eyes. Derek laughed as he approached me and said, "That's some get up, Shorty." "I'm not going for style points," I retorted while I crossed one tights covered leg in front of the other and smiled down at them. "Well, mission accomplished," Derek replied with a laugh before he said, "Be careful out there." "I will," I replied, my voice conveying how nervous I was to be stepping outside dressed as I was. Derek gave me a reassuring look as he replied, "Don't worry too much. This is a totally gay area. It's as safe for a sissy like you as any you'll find." I nodded in response before I stepped out of his apartment and closed the door behind me. I made my way down the steps of the apartment building, feeling a little at ease based on Derek's words. I really doubted that anyone would angrily confront me about being transgendered in this neighborhood. Still, I was in uncharted territory for myself as I exited the apartment building and started down the sidewalk. I looked around while I began to make the three block walk. I saw mostly indifferent looks from the strangers I passed by. They did not seem to care that I was there at all. I was somewhat surprised by it, but I was also more than relieved. I saw two cute girls laughing as they walked down the street. They glanced at me and laughed amongst themselves. I felt a little weak based on that. Under other circumstances, I'd probably be hitting on those girls. They just seemed, however, to be strolling through the area to laugh at its inhabitants like gawking patrons at some early 20th Century Freak Show. I'm sure that's all I was to them. Still, they were a distinct minority. The feeling of passive tolerance by the other strangers was the most liberating sensation I had felt since I had accepted myself. I felt unchained as I walked around in broad daylight in makeup tights, a dress and girls' flats. I took no grief for it. I even saw a few real trans-girls on the street. They too roamed these streets without issue. I was elated about the place I had found. I would have moved there if it wasn't for the fact that it was inconvenient to my job and would have given more credence to the rumors I choose to never confirm nor deny. I came to a stop at the bar's doors. I tried to open them, but found they were locked. My knock brought no response, so I moved down the sidewalk and saw an alleyway. I noticed a side door and approached it as my shoes pressed against the damp, dark pavement that was covered with litter. I hunched over as I knocked on the door, while trying to keep an eye out for any mentally ill vagrants that might be living in the alleyway. The door drew open and I was greeted by a well-dressed, clearly gay, middle-aged man. He smiled at me and said, "You must be Tina." "Yes, Sir," I replied as I gently shook his hand before he let me inside. I was relieved to be in the safety of the inside of the bar as the door to the dank alleyway was closed behind me. The man led me into a backroom and introduced himself as Adam before he told me that Derek highly recommended me. I thanked Adam for giving me the opportunity before he replied, "If you do a good job, we may consider bringing you on again when Lizette has take off." I nodded, trying to convey that I was thankful for what the man assumed was a nice opportunity given the story that Derek had sold him. I struggled not to laugh knowing that I made more in an hour at my real job than I was going to make working for the man for two days. With our introductions out of the way, Adam showed me where the cleaning supplies were kept. I looked over the well-used mop and bucket and cringed for a second before I thanked Adam. He left me to my work as I took off my jacket and hung it up before I slipped my hands into a pair of pink rubber gloves that probably belonged to Lizette. They felt hard around my fingers as I struggled to clench them into fists before I walked into the bar room with a broom and a dustpan. I worked my way across the floor, picking the discarded bottle caps, loose papers and general filth that had accumulated since the night before. It was not a large place, so it didn't take long to sweep. I put it all in the dustpan and dumped the filth into a garbage can before I wiped down the bar. Once I finished with that, I retrieved a duster from the backroom. I tended to the bottles behind the bar first, giving them a good dusting, as it appeared that they had not been cleaned in a few weeks. The owner grinned as he walked into the bar room and noticed what I was doing. "Even Lizette forgets to do that," he said. "I could tell," I replied. "Keep up the good work," Adam said before he stepped out of the bar. I beamed at the compliment. My manhood swelled and pressed against the back of my tights as I continued to dust the bottles, feeling like a good, dutiful cleaner. After finishing my dusting, I went into the backroom and took hold of the mop and bucket. I filled the bucket before I reentered the bar room. I dragged my mop across the entire floor from one side to the other as I tidied up the room. My back tensed up as I kept leaning down to push the mop into the floor. I grimaced as I stood up to rest at points, but I kept pushing myself to continue, not wanting to let Adam down. I knew that if I did so, it might embarrass Derek, and I didn't want do that, all things considered. As the pain started to reach my hips, I laughed to myself and thought what my coworkers must be doing at that moment. They were probably each spending their day relaxing and hanging out with friends or their families. I wondered what they would think about me spending my weekend mopping up a bar room floor in a polyester dress and Wal-Mart ballet flats. I shook my head at the thought with a laugh before I walked into the kitchen and began to mop up the floor in there. By the time, I got into the kitchen, I heard Adam reentering the bar. He walked into the kitchen and came to a stop as he looked at me. "Yes, Sir?" I inquired in response to his inquisitive look. "Tina, did you wipe down the stove and the countertops before you started to mop in here?" I paused and glanced down at the crumbs on the countertop by Adam's hand and shook my head, realizing my mistake. Adam shook his head at me and said, "I know it's your first day, and it may seem like nothing to you, but I like things done a certain way." I nodded at his stern, but fatherly tone before he continued, "If you wipe it down after you clean, you're wiping dirt onto a clean floor. Understand?" "Yes, Sir," I replied. I was confused by nervousness in my tone. I guess I was not used to being taken to task or talked down to like that. I had fantasized about it before, but it was something I was not used to experiencing. I put down my mop and went to clean the countertops while Adam nodded at me and went into his small office. As I wiped the countertops in response to Adam's chiding, my manhood surged once I realized that I was being treated as the simple cleaner that I was trying to portray myself as. The fear felt real to me, and I did a diligent job cleaning the countertop and appliances before I swept and mopped the kitchen floor again. Once I finished in the kitchen, I turned my attention to the last two rooms I had to clean, the men's room and the lady's room. I went into the lady's room first. The room was immaculate. It had seen some use, but the owner seemed to know that the girls that came in here expected a first rate bathroom. It was not hard to clean the two-stall bathroom. I cleaned the bowls and wiped everything down before I mopped the floor and headed to the men's room with my cleaning supplies in hand. As I opened the door, the room seemed mostly clean. I started by wiping down the vanity and cleaning the mirror over the sink. I then moved towards the urinals and changed the cakes before I made my way into the single stall. I paused as I glanced at the white crust on the walls on the stall as I scoured the toilet. It took a few seconds for it to dawn on me what I was looking at. Once I realized what it was, I was repulsed. I knew that two guys had been getting it on the bathroom, or at least it was oral sex. 'They couldn't get that shit in the toilet', I thought, shaking my head as I finished cleaning it and flushed it. I stared at the wall as the toilet refilled. I knew I had to clean it, even though I really did not want to touch it. My perceived position, however, left me with no choice. It was my disgusting job, but I had to do it. I took hold of a sponge and began to press it against the wall. I was thankful that the secretions came off with a little elbow grease before I thoroughly washed out the sponge and tossed it in the garbage. I was sickened as I washed my gloves as much as I could too. No matter how clean they looked, they still seemed soiled to me though. I dried my gloves with paper towels before I went about finishing my shift by mopping the bathroom floor. After I dumped the dirty water from the bucket into the toilet and cleaned the toilet once more, I collected the garbage and stepped out of the bar to throw it into a dumpster in the alley. The smells from the inside of the dumpster were intense before I hurriedly closed the lid. I let the lid bang shut before I let myself back in and put new bags in the garbage cans. Once I finished washing my hands, I collected my coat and put it on. I then went to say goodbye to Adam. Adam stood up and shook my hand as he walked me out. He told that I had done a real nice job while he paid me in cash. I beamed at his praise, thankful for it before I said goodbye and headed out of the door. As I got a few blocks away from the bar, I noticed a small grocery store. The place would barely pass for a convenience store where I lived, but the place was packed with shoppers. I stepped inside and looked around. I caught a few people giving me strange looks, but they let me be. I walked around and picked out a few things to bring back to Derek's apartment before I went up to the cashier. The Korean man behind the counter gave me a blank look. I suppose I was nothing he had not seen before, but that did not mean he had to like me. I was fine enough with that since he kept any audible disapproval to himself while I paid him with the great equalizer of green cash for his overpriced groceries and headed back out to the street. I went back to the apartment building with a smile on my face. I took out the spare keys that Derek leant me for the weekend before I walked up the steps to his apartment and let myself in. "Jewel," I heard Derek call out for confirmation as I entered his apartment. "Yes," I answered while I turned and locked the door behind me. Derek strolled out of his bedroom and grinned while he walked over to me and asked, "So, how was cleaning up somebody else's mess?" "Fun," I admitted with a sheepish smile. Derek laughed as he shook his head before he replied in a mock serious tone, "Look. I can handle you getting a sexual thrill out of the pantyhose and the whole tranny thing, but if you take some sort of pleasure from scrubbing and scouring, well, I'm sorry, my friend, but you are a prevent!" I blushed and laughed in response while I threw my hands up and said, "Guilty, Darling." Derek grinned as he replied, "Well, you're still dressed for the part..." "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked as I put my hands on my dress- covered waist. "Well, if I'm being such a good friend and getting you a job and putting a roof over your head for the weekend, I think you should at least pay me back a little." "So, you want to put me to work?" "I'll put you to work or you can put out, and since we both know the latter isn't an option...," Derek replied as he held his hands out to the side. I rolled my eyes at him and asked, "Are you serious?" "Totally," Derek deadpanned before he opened a closet door to show me his cleaning supplies. "Let me put away the groceries first," I replied. "Those are groceries?" Derek inquired. "What did you think they were?" "I thought you couldn't resist a little shopping? You're more into chick things than some chicks I know." I ignored his attempts to tweak me with the truth as I said, "I think we could have a little more than cereal tomorrow morning." "If you want to cook, I'm a very willing eater," Derek responded with a grin. "I bet you are," I replied before I put away the groceries. Once I finished putting away the groceries, I went back over to where Derek kept his cleaning supplies. I put on a pair of blue, latex gloves and took hold of his oven cleaner. I walked into the kitchen and wiped down the oven before I cleaned the outside of the refrigerator. After I wiped down the countertops, I swept up the narrow kitchen floor before I gave a quick once over of the linoleum with Derek's Swiffer. After I was done cleaning the kitchen, I grabbed Derek's duster and began to clean his table and end tables. Derek laughed at me as he saw me holding out the duster and cleaning up his apartment. As I cleaned the coffee table in front of the couch he was sitting on, Derek looked at me and said, almost accusingly, "You really enjoy this shit?" "Do you really enjoy sex with men?" "I think mine's more normal," Derek replied with a grin before I went and retrieved his vacuum. I vacuumed the rugs of his living room and bedroom. Once I finished, I put the vacuum away and turned my attention to his bathroom. I wiped down the vanity and sink first before I cleaned his bathtub and shower walls. As I focused on scrubbing the toilet, Derek stepped into the bathroom. I looked up at his beaming face and inquired, "Can I help you?" "So, is this what it's like to have a wife?" Derek mused with a laugh. I shook my head in response before I retorted, "No. No. Straight guys wish their girls still put in this kind of effort." "And which category are you in?" Derek asked inquisitively. I blushed as I replied, "I'm a guy." "Who just happens to want to be a woman?" "I don't want to be a woman, I just would have preferred to be born as one," I countered. "Well, if I was a straight guy, you'd be the girl for me," Derek responded with a smirk. "If you had a pussy, you'd be the girl for me," I retorted, making Derek laugh a little. Derek then shook his head as he rejoined, "How would I end up being the one with the pussy?" "Who here has given a blow job raise their hand...Oh, don't be shy," I countered. "I might be gay, but I don't go around in skirts and stockings. Now, that's outright girlish." "Again, I'm the one that never sucked a dick here, so...just saying..." "Still, look at us, I'm clearly the guy." "Just because you're taller..." "And I'm way stronger too, Shorty." I blushed at the latter fact. Derek had always been bigger and stronger than me since we were kids. When we were in high school, we were the closest to even we ever were. Since that time, however, Derek continued to hit the gym, while I've never seriously touched a weight since I graduated college. My job requires mental work, brawn is of no consequence. My job also affords me the opportunity to focus on a cardio only workout plan that I've been sticking for years. Since graduating college, I've dropped down to a 130 -135 pound range, however, maintaining that range requires more than just exercise. I am teased by some coworkers that I eat like a girl with plenty of salads, yogurt, oatmeal and other healthy things. My coworkers, however, assume that I'm simply a health nut, just like a couple of other guys in the office. Once a year, late at night, when there are few people in the gym I go to, I do a bench press just to see what I can lift. I haven't been able to lift my high school totals in years. I have fantasies of becoming only as strong as the average girl my size, but due to a number of physiological differences between the sexes, I know that it will stay a fantasy. Still, while I can lift more than a girl my size, and even a bit bigger, I'm way below average for a man in general. Derek is the only person in my life to have approached me about what he's seen as my physical weakening. I've been out an open about it with him. He knows that feeling weak turns me on and he sometimes likes to play it up, knowing full well that I can't do anything to stop him. My silence in response to Derek's statement brought about a playful, patronizing tone from him as he bent down and cupped my chin as he replied, "I think we both know who everyone would call the man here if they saw us, Cinderella" His one hand held my head straight before he said, "Just nod." I nodded with the assistance of his hand as my manhood swelled in my tights. Derek then crossed his arms as he stared down at me with a satisfied smile, clearing enjoying how flustered he was making me. Teasing me about my kinks was one of his favorite things to do, and I certainly made myself any easy target. I blushed at him as I said, "Can you please let me finish up in here?" "Sure. Are you going to wash up when you're done?" "I was planning on it. Why?" "I was thinking we could hit the town tonight." "Another dinner and a movie?" I replied. "No. I was thinking about a bar." "A bar?" "One of the gay bars." "Woo....," I replied. "Oh, don't get so uncomfortable. You work for one for Christ's sake!" Derek responded, taking evident pleasure in reminding me of that fact. "What if a guy hits on me?" "Stay in skirts. That'll keep those nasty fags away," Derek teased. "A little self-hatred?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "No. Taking back the word." "Do you wear it with pride?" "Only when confronted with it," Derek answered before he asked, "So, are you in?" "I'll be there with bells on," I responded, not wanting to let my friend down. "That's my hag," Derek replied with an abbreviated laugh before he left me to shower. I washed up and shaved myself with my ladies razor before I dressed in the one presentable outfit I had brought with me in case Derek insisted on me stepping out en femme in a regular outfit. I decided to go with a pleated, knee length a-line skirt. I stepped into it and felt the textured patterning as I pulled up the exposed back zipper. I paired the skirt with a white, long sleeved blouse, black, sheer pantyhose and dark silver sandals. After I finished dressing, I redid my hair and makeup before I stepped out to greet Derek. Derek laughed as he looked me over. He was always amused whenever he saw me en femme. It was almost as if he could not believe that his friend would possibly go around acting like a girl. He shook his head as he asked, "Bitch, do you wear anything understated?" "If you've got it flaunt, darling," I replied with a faux British accent. Derek showered quickly before he came out and asked if I was ready to get going. I was bit surprised by his question since I was obliviously waiting for him. I uncrossed my legs, stood up and grabbed my purse before I retorted with the obvious, "I was waiting for you!" "That's good because gay guys don't wait around for girls." "Is that so?" "Fringe benefit to being a cock sucker," Derek said with a smug look before he led us out of the apartment. He locked the door behind us. I then came to a stop and I cringed at the sight of the steps before me. "What's wrong?" "Walking down steps in heels sucks!" "Fringe benefit to being a man," Derek replied with a laugh as he moved towards them. I walked gingerly behind him before I took hold of the rail and began my slow descent. Derek turned and looked at me before he stopped and said, "Oh, for God's sake." "What?" "I never thought I'd be doing this with you, but take my arm." "Why?" "Balance and support, Queeny." I hesitated to take Derek's arm, but it was pointless to resist it. As I took his arm, I joked, "You're such a gentleman." "Anything for my favorite sissy friend." Despite our jokes, Derek's arm helped me get down the stairs faster, which was to both of our benefits. We hit the landing and stepped out of the building and made our way to another one of the, seemingly, fifty or so gay bars in the immediate area. The dark streets let us walk around in relative anonymity. No one bothered with us while the cold wind blew up my skirt. On the way to the bar, we stopped into a hot dog storefront and each bought a dog. We ate in the moderate warmth of the establishment on our feet since the place offered no seating as part of the chain's business model. Once we finished, we started back on the sidewalk towards the bar. I was freezing by the time we finally reached the place. We walked in and the bouncer carded us both immediately. Derek walked in without a problem. It took the bouncer almost a minute to examine my male picture and compare it my blushing made-up face before he let me inside. He smiled as he let me in; I'm sure realizing just what I was. Looking around the bar, it was clear, however, that I was not the first cross-dresser to ever enter the bar. We made our way up to the bar before Derek ordered himself a beer and ordered me a Pink Passion. I gaped at him as the bartender walked away, "Why didn't you get me a beer or a whisky?" "I thought a sissy would want the girliest drink I could think of?" I playfully slapped his arm before he said, "That's my girl." He hugged me close for a second as we laughed before we got our drinks and headed towards an open table. We sat on the stools and started making small talk as we looked around the bar. After we finished our first round, I got the second, grabbing a beer each for the two of us. By the time I brought it back to Derek, he was being engaged by another guy. The guy smiled as he shook my hand while I dropped off the drink with Derek. He introduced himself before he went back to chatting up my friend. Derek seemed somewhat interested in the man, but he was playing it cool. I decided to give them a little space, so I stood up, over Derek's objections, and stepped away from them. Seconds after doing so, I bumped into two trans-women. The two smiled as they looked me over and gushed about my dark silver, heeled sandals. I complimented their outfits too. Derek watched me the whole time, grinning more than I could ever remember him doing as he watched his self-described, straight male friend exchanging fashion compliments with t-girls like it was the most normal thing in the world. He almost spit up when I said gushed about the pretty floral embroidering of one of the girls' dresses. A few straight girls were in the bar with their gay friends too. They were the loudest people in the place as they danced on the floor. The t-girls dragged me out there, and I spent a good twenty minutes dancing with them before one said to the other that they needed to hit the little girls' room. I stood still before I found that I was being dragged along with them. I had never gone to the bathroom with anyone before. It was a strange experience heading to the bathroom together. It was like I was being initiated into some secret club. We each went before we freshened up our makeup and made small talk about our beauty regimens while we did so. I was intrigued by the girls and they seemed interested in me too. They wondered why I had not come around before. I explained that I was in town visiting a friend and lived a somewhat regular male life. The t-girls nodded, somewhat surprised by my admission. One noted that she had been married with children before she came out to herself. I was sympathetic to her, but I had no desire to transition, even if these girls were of the opinion that I was denying it to myself. After we walked back into the bar area, I headed over to Derek as his would be suitor walked towards the bar. I smiled as I snuck up next to him. "He doesn't think you're with me," I noted with a laugh while I whispered in his ear. "With good reason," he retorted as he turned to me. "What's that?" I asked? "Gay guys don't date sissies," Derek replied with a smirk. I gave him a faux glare that made his smirk turn into a smile before I leaned forward and threw my arms around his neck and planted a big kiss on his cheek. I squealed in the most lisping tone I could muster, "Baby, you're the bestest." I grinned as I let Derek go and saw the mortified grimace on his face as he wiped my lipstick off his cheek. "You just got to stir the shit, don't you," Derek asked, blushing a little. "Hey...when in Rome." Derek shook his head while he inquired, "Do you want to get going?" "What about your little friend?" "I'll see him again. Assuming you didn't scare him off!" "Are you two dating?" I asked. "No," Derek replied before he said, "At least not yet anyway." Derek got up and said goodbye to the man before we headed back to his apartment. As we made our way down the sidewalk, two young guys were making fun of us after they got a good look at my face. I ignored them as did Derek. One of them then made a sexual suggestive, homophobic remark that was clearly directed at me. Derek reached for my hand and clutched it and said, "Don't worry. I've kicked bigger guys asses than those two." I smiled at Derek. He always had a protective instinct with his friends. We had been in fights with others before and Derek always jumped in when I was in one. He was a tough guy when he was young. I think that's why some of our friends really had a hard time believing he was gay. My smile receded as I grew more anxious, realizing that I was using my friend as my protector. I was ashamed by it. I knew that I couldn't take those two guys in a fight, but Derek probably could. I could help Derek in a fight, but I was not going to be the reason we'd win. I was weak compared to all of them and it turned me on that Derek was protecting me. Once the guys were out of sight, Derek let go of my hand as we continued the rest of the way to his home. He opened the door and let me in before I slipped out of my heels and ascended the steps, not caring that my nylons were being soiled by pressing against the cold, hard and partially cracked steps beneath them. After we stepped into Derek's apartment, we said goodnight to each other. Derek went to his room before I took stepped out of my skirt and pulled off my blouse. I then put on my long sleeved, white sleep shirt that was decorated with black stars before I climbed into the bed I had made up before leaving with Derek that evening. I stared up at the ceiling and wondered aloud, "Why can't I be gay?" "Maybe I'm a straight girl," I muttered as I turned on my side and thought about my fantasies of being with men while I rubbed my pantyhose covered legs together. I could never muster the slightest attraction to men when I thought about them generally or with me wearing men's clothing. The minute I thought of myself as a girl in them, it seemed to change something in my mind. It was all just fantasies though. I was always attracted to girls no matter what I wore. I never had a problem in bed with anyone of them either, even when I guiltily found myself wishing I was them instead. I thought about discussing it with Derek, but I decided I was not ready to discuss that. I hoped that he could understand why I could want to be some guy's girl, but I was doubtful. He barely understood heterosexual relationships, the way I struggled to understand homosexual desires at times. The next morning, I got up and made us breakfast. Derek got up earlier than he did the day before and looked surprised when he saw me cooking. "Do you want a plate?" I asked. "Absolutely" Derek replied. Derek shook his head as he smiled while he ate his breakfast. As I sat down next to him, Derek turned to me and asked with a resigned laugh, "Damn, can't you just be gay, dude." I laughed as I stared him in the eye before he continued with a smirk, "Look, being gay isn't a choice Jewel, but couldn't you at least try. Come on, you might come to like it." "No attraction to men," I countered before adding, "makes it kind of hard to get hard." "You can't tell me that you don't think about taking it, at least as a woman..." "Are we really going down this route?" I asked Derek, not wanting to admit that the last part of his assertion was hitting way too close to home. Derek shook his head with a smile as he went back to eating his breakfast before he said, "But if you ever decide to be gay, I could use a cook." "I wish I could be gay," I replied as my left hand brushed against my pantyhose covered leg while I straightened the hem of my sleep shirt. "Ah, yet another crazy statement from Jewel! That's how I know you're really a girl at heart!" "No. My life would be so much easier if I was just gay." "Do you know what we go through?" "Do you know what I go through? So many people treat me like I'm gay because of how I act, but I'm only attracted to girls. I've run into people when I'm out on dates, and they look their heads about to explode when they find out that she's not just my friend. If I was gay, I could be the girl I want to be with no problem." "No. You couldn't...," Derek lectured. "Oh, please. I'd be a total drag queen if I could get away with it." "Most gay guys aren't drag queens, Jules," Derek responded, clearly peeved by remark. "It's more acceptable to be a gay drag queen than a straight one." "Where the hell do you get these ideas?" Derek retorted. "Perception." "Definitely a straight man's perception." "Gay people think that more people are looking down on them than they really are." "Those are self-aggrieved lesbians," Derek rejoined. "Still, there's more acceptance than ever before." "But it's not even close to universal." "Like there's universal acceptance of cross-dressers?" I countered. "Not in this lifetime or any other, girlfriend," Derek noted with a smirk. "But the gays just tease me about it. The straight guys want to get all violent." "That's because they're a bunch of dickheads." "I'm just saying; I wish I were gay." Derek shook his head as he retorted, "You're a real fruitcake, Jewel. You know that, right?" "I wish," I rejoined prompting Derek and I to share a laugh. I blushed as I realized that it was the most intimate conversation I had ever shared with anyone else about my cross-dressing and true nature. While I had let Derek in on it before, I had never let him that far in before. We finished eating before I dressed for work again. I walked out of the apartment dressed in my uniform again. I made my way back to the bar and was let in by Adam before I got to work. As I got started, I pulled out the sponges I had bought at the grocery store the day before to replace the contaminated one that I had thrown out. I then went about the same routine I had done the day before. I remembered to make sure to clean the countertops and bar before I cleaned the floor, but everything went the same as it did the day before until I went to the men's bathroom. I was relieved that there was no mess for me to clean up there again before I finished with my work for the day. After I threw the garbage away and replaced the garbage bags, I went to Adam's office. I knocked upon the door and waited for him to address me. Adam smiled as he told me what a good job I did. He said he'd even like to give me the job full time if he could, but he considered Lizette to be like family to him. I nodded, not believing him at all or caring since I could not take the job on full time anyway. I thanked the man again for the opportunity before he said that he would call me the next time she went on vacation. I hesitated for a second before he added, "I always need some extra help for a few of the holidays. I could get you some work washing dishes here a few days a year." "Thank you, Sir," I replied, not really wanting anything to do with what he was offering. Still, he asked again for my number. After some thought, I was fine with giving him my number since my voice message is nothing more than an automated recording repeating my number to discourage those that don't know for sure from leaving a message. Once I finished giving him the number, I made my way out of the bar. I walked towards the front door and grinned as I thought about my weekend. The smile on my face left as I started out of the bar and down the sidewalk that led back to Derek's apartment. I did not want the weekend to end, but I knew that it had to. There was nothing left for me to do but change back into boy mode and head back home. To say that that realization was a let down would be an understatement. I let myself back into Derek's apartment after making my way up the stairs. Derek greeted me shortly after I entered. We talked a little bit before I went into his bathroom and showered. I got dressed in the clothes I arrived in before I used my makeup remover in Derek's bathroom. Once I finished, I put my girl's stuff away in my bag and stepped out of the bathroom. Derek caught sight of me and grinned and said, "Oh, there's Jules. Where have you been all weekend?" "Oh, you know, just out being fabulous," I answered. "I think you look better like this." "I'm a dowdy girl," I admitted. "You're a freak, that's what you are my friend," Derek responded with a laugh. "Can't deny that one, you cock sucking fuck." "Can't deny that one," Derek replied as we laughed. "I really want to thank you," I said. "Look, any time you want to come here and clean my apartment and make me breakfast, I have to say I'm willing to let you do it, you know, solely out of friendship," Derek said, feigning sincerity. "Hey, I offered to share an apartment with you." "Five years ago!" "And you said I'd cramp your style." "It's not good for me to bring home dates and let them see some sissy scrubbing the floors," Derek countered. "It wouldn't have been good for me to bring home a girl to meet my gay roommate, but, still, I offered," I replied feigning being magnanimous. "I think we've established that we can't live together," Derek replied with a smile. I nodded in response while I finished packing my bag. I then hugged Derek goodbye before I carried my bag down the stairs. My jeans felt heavy on my legs that were used to the lighter fabrics that had been constraining them for the almost 48 hours prior. I got down to the street and picked up my car at the garage before I put my bag into it. I pulled away from the parking garage and smiled as I thought about my weekend, scrubbing floors on my hands and knees, the feeling of the cool floor beneath my tights. The way I was treated like the lowly woman I seemed to be made me smile. As I got further away from Derek's neighborhood, I began to focus on the deadlines I was facing at my real job. I was running the department now and was more indispensable than ever. I was moving around on the periphery of the eyes of some of the most important and powerful men and women in the region. Still, when I compared it to make weekend, it all seemed like such a downer.