Danny sat at the bar of the Holiday Inn nursing his fourth double scotch, espousing to the man beside him the reasons why his company was the best designer and distributor of accounting software in the world.

Danny was a large man in his forties and was running to fat. He was dressed in a travel-weary navy-blue business suit, a crumpled white shirt now open at the neck, and a ratty tie. He was attending a convention for accounting software distributors at the hotel, and he mistakenly believed that the well-dressed black man to whom he was imparting his knowledge of software design and distribution was attending the same convention and that he gave a shit about what Danny had to say.

Danny was also complaining about his travelling companion and business associate Mike, who he said, spent most of his free time locked in his hotel room whenever they were on the road together.

"Unsocialable asshole!" Danny ranted on, "he hardly ever comes to the bar with me after we have finished for the day; he just heads for his hotel room and locks himself away for the night."

"Well screw him pal! Work hard and play hard I say!" Danny said through a cloud of boozy fumes.

Mike had his own reasons why he didn't like to socialise with Danny when they were on the road together. One reason was that in Mike's opinion, Danny was only a few drinks away from becoming a full blown alcoholic. The second reason was a closely kept secret.

Whilst Danny was in the bar getting drunk and boring to death the well dressed black man sitting beside him with stories of accounting software sales and criticising his travelling companion; Mike was sliding a pair of expensive sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose up his carefully shaved legs. Yes; Mike had a very good reason he didn't want to be anywhere else except inside his hotel room tonight. Mike was a closet crossdresser!

Mike; or Michele in his femme alter ego; liked to dress as a woman. She occasionally met with other crossdressers but this didn't happen very often, and Michele considered herself a virgin, as except for a little nervous foreplay with other crossdressers, she had not yet had a sexual experience whilst dressed as a woman.

When on the road Mike kept a travel bag hidden inside his suitcase. The small travel bag contained a skirt, blouse, high heels, lingerie, cosmetics, jewellery and a wig. Mike had become adept at packing the minimal requirements to transform into Michele inside the small soft travel bag and hiding it discretely inside his larger suitcase.

He sometimes had nightmares where one the 'Travel Nazis' who provided airport security screening inspected his suitcase and opened the travel bag and held up his female requisites for everyone in the airport to see whilst demanding to know why Mike had ladies clothing secreted in his suitcase.

Of course this had never happened, and it was highly unlikely to happen, but a little paranoia is common amongst most closet crossdressers.

So whilst Danny engaged the well-built black stranger in inane barroom prattle, Mike concentrated on transforming into Michele. She had already applied heavy makeup and fitted her favourite brunette bob wig. She smoothed out her nylons, carefully pushing her penis under her crotch so the gusset of the pantyhose would hold it there.

Michele stepped into a pair of red boy-leg satin panties and then pulled on a matching bra. Unable to bring her breastforms with her on the road, she stuffed the cups with balled up pantyhose; a poor substitute but adequate for the task. Next she slid a cream coloured nylon half-slip up her legs, exhilarating in the sensuous feel of the slip against her hosed legs, and adjusted it so that the hem rested about six inches above her knees.

She didn't really need to wear the slip as a foundation garment but she loved the feel of the slip against her hosiery and panties.

Michele buttoned up a teal coloured satin blouse, cursing under her breath because even after all this time dressing as a woman she still had difficulty with the buttons because they were on the opposite side to a man's shirt. She stepped into a navy-blue A-line skirt; closed the zip and adjusted the waist. She smoothed out the skirt so that the hem sat just below the hem of her half-slip. The skirt had a kick pleat in the rear and her slip would show but as she was spending the night alone that didn't really matter.

She slid her feet into a pair of black leather four-inch high-heeled pumps and opened up the small cosmetics bag and took out the small bottle of Poison; her favourite perfume. She sprayed herself liberally with the scent and giggled as she sprayed a couple of squirts under her skirt. There would be no one to appreciate it of course; but Michele liked to dress as feminine as she could.

She adjusted her makeup; applying another coat of plum-red lipstick. If she was at home she would use her favourite 'Estee Lauder Pure Color' two-coat long-lasting lipstick; but on the road, regular lipstick sufficed and was a hell of a lot easier to remove. She clipped on gold earrings and a matching necklace, bracelets, and rings on three fingers of each hand. Then she reached down and fastened a gold ankle-bracelet around her nylon-sheathed ankle.

Although Michele was dressing purely for her own pleasure, she liked to look as femme as possible and paid attention to detail. Of course at home she would wear a garter belt and stockings instead of pantyhose and paint two coats of nailpolish on her toe and fingernails, but on the road, with the ever-present chance of being disturbed, she made sacrifices so that she could quickly wash off her makeup and get out of her clothes if she had to. She was also limited by how much space she had in the travel bag.

Occasionally Michele had met up with other crossdressers whilst she was travelling; usually at their house or at a different hotel than the one she was staying in with Danny; but these occasions were very rare and mostly she just dressed, surfed the net for transgender websites and sometimes fired up her webcam for some online fun. The evening usually ended with her masturbating whilst fantasising about being with another crossdresser or; very rarely, she might jack off on the webcam at the request of another crossdresser.

Michele eyed the small bottle of nailpolish lying unused in the cosmetics bag with regret and then she reached in and grabbed it.

"Fuck it! I'm going to do my nails." She said to herself as she sat down on the bed and poured herself a gin and tonic from the minibar and prepared to paint her nails.

Michele rarely painted her nails when she was on the road as it was very risky if she had to leave the hotel room in hurry. Washing off her makeup and shucking out of her femme clothing could be done in a few minutes but removing nailpolish took time. She didn't have room for nailpolish remover in her small bag so she would have to clean off the nail polish with vodka from the minibar which could take quite some time to do properly.

Also Danny insisted they book adjoining hotel rooms and it was not unknown for him to return to his room late at night drunk and hammer on Mike's door insisting that Mike join him for a drink. A few times Mike, fully dressed as Michele, had had to shout some made up excuse through the closed door as to why he couldn't join Danny for a drink.

Michele sat on the bed and carefully painted her fingernails with a single coat of plum-red nailpolish. 'Important that a girl's nailpolish and lipstick match, ' she thought to herself.

Half an hour later she was seated at her laptop computer, her body illuminated by lamplight in the darkened hotel room, chatting online with other crossdressers and transmitting her image via webcam to a Yahoo chatroom whilst also surfing transgender websites.

She didn't realise that events were about to unfold that would change her life forever.

At the same time that Michele made the decision to paint her nails, the well-built, well-dressed, black man decided he was going to rob Danny.

The black man's name was Ronnie and he was carefully dressed in the business suite so as to look like any other businessman at the hotel bar; but he was in fact an accomplished thief and robber. His accomplice, Jermain, waited outside in the car. Ronnie's modus operandi was to befriend a gullible businessman at a hotel bar, drug him, and then pretend to help the businessman to his room, where he and Jermain robbed the unconscious victim of everything worth stealing.

Ronnie looked around the bar, and certain that no one was watching, he emptied a small vial of powder into Danny's drink. The strong sedative instantly dissolved and within a few minutes of Danny returning from the toilet and gulping down his drink he was unsteady on his feet and feeling incredibly sleepy.

"Let me help you pal," Ronnie said, sliding a strong arm around the fat drunk and guiding from the noisy bar to the elevators in the foyer.

"What room are you in?" Ronnie asked Danny, and when Danny answered Ronnie flicked open his cell and called Jermain.

"We're on! Room two one four; see ya'" Ronnie said into his cell and snapped it shut and put it away.

Danny was now at the pint where he could hardly stand because of the combined effects of the booze and drugs and Ronnie struggled to hold him upright in the elevator while he rummaged through Danny's pockets until he located his hotel room key.

When the elevator door opened Ronnie struggled with Danny to room 214, he opened the door and then pushed Danny onto his bed where he immediately began to snore. Ronnie adjusted Danny's position on the bed to make sure he could breathe and then stole his wallet and cash from his pockets and took the expensive gold wristwatch off his wrist. There was a knock at the door and Ronnie went to the peep-hole, and seeing Jermain standing outside the hotel room, he opened the door and let him in.

Within fifteen minutes Ronnie and Jermain had bundled up everything of value that Danny had with him in the hotel room and had stuffed it all into Danny's expensive luggage, they were about to check that the coast was clear so they could leave the room when Danny began to recover.

Being a large man, Danny's tolerance for drugs and alcohol was a lot greater than Ronnie had estimated and now he was regaining consciousness. He sat up groggily on the bed, saw his room had been ransacked and his luggage packed and figured out what was happening.

"What now?" Jermain asked Ronnie.

"Fuck it! We gag him; tie him up and fuck off," Ronnie snarled.

Jermain pulled a small pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Danny as he sat up on the bed.

"Don't fucking move man or I'll shoot you full of holes!" Jermain barked at Danny.

"Help!! Mike; for fuck sake help me!!!!!" Danny screamed at the internal door adjoining his and Mike's rooms.

On the other side of the door Michele heard Danny's muffled cries and assumed that he was drunk and looking for Mike to join him for more booze. Michele walked over to the door carefully on her high heels and yelled through the door.

"Go to sleep Danny; I'm not interested in getting you any drunker!"

She then went over to her the minibar to pour herself another gin and tonic, cursing at Danny under her breath.

Jermain stuck his pistol in Danny's face.

"One more word mother-fucker and I'll blow your brains out!" he said.

Danny stopped yelling and sat morosely on the edge of the bed groggy with the effects of the booze and drugs.

Meanwhile Ronnie was thinking to himself that maybe he could turn the situation around to their advantage. Danny obviously had a travelling companion in the other room. Maybe they could get 'two for one'! By entering the other hotel room via the adjoining room door they would not have to draw any undue attention to themselves by going out into the corridor.

Ronnie walked over to where Jermain was guarding Danny.

"Who's in the other room?" he asked menacingly.

"It's Mike; you know, the guy I was telling you about. My business associate," Danny answered, his eyes locked on the pistol only inches from his face.

"Aw come on guys; you cleaned me out and I won't tell the police what happened; I'll say that someone broke into my hotel room while I slept and robbed me. I can claim all this shit back on my insurance but leave Mike alone man," Danny begged.

"Fuck that! Get over to the door and start knocking fat boy!" Ronnie ordered as Jermain waived the pistol indicating for Danny to get off the bed and get over to the door.

"It won't do any fucking good man; Mike won't open the door. He'll think I'm drunk and looking for a drinking partner," Danny whined.

"Just knock on the fucking door and tell your buddy that two guys have a gun in your face and will shoot you unless he opens the door. You tell him that if he doesn't open the door right now that we'll shoot you and then kick the fucking door down anyway!" Ronnie growled.

Danny wobbled over to the door and did as he was told.

Mike stood at the door adjoining rooms 214 and 216 in absolute terror and shock. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He didn't want to open the door under any circumstances. The fact that he was about to robbed was inconsequential to the fact that he would be found dressed as a woman. But if he didn't open the door his friend could be killed and the robbers might kick the door down anyway.

"You got fifteen seconds to open the fucking door or your partner gets his brains blown out!" Ronnie hissed through the door impatiently.

Michele made a split decision and flicked the catch on the locked door and then rushed across the darkened room and stood flush against the wall quivering in fear.

Depressing scenes of humiliation flashed through Mike's head. The robbers, and even Danny, laughing when they found him dressed as a woman; the stares and sniggers of work colleagues back at the office; the secretaries knowing smiles and muffled giggles when he walked past. And then eventually the boss would call him in and fire him; saying: "Sorry Mike but we just can't employ a salesman who wear's skirts and makeup," and then breaking down into uncontrollable laughter.

The door opened and Danny entered the room with Jermain close behind him using him as a shield; the gun pressed into his back. Ronnie entered behind them and they stood just inside Mike's room looking around in the gloom.

They saw a mature, heavily made-up woman wearing a short skirt and high heels standing against the far fall; the scent of her perfume permeated the room.

"No wonder the fucker didn't want to let us in; he's got a fucking hooker up here!" Ronnie said.

"Where's Mike?" Danny asked incredulously, thinking that he knew now why Mike would never come out of room; because liked call girls!

The woman just stood there, dumbfounded.

"Where's Mike hiding; you cunt? You better tell us or Jermain here will put a cap in fat-boy here and then empty the rest into you!" Ronnie threatened.

Michele started to sob, her voice husky.

"I'm Mike," she whispered.

"I'm Mike but I'm also Michele," she mumbled.

"Jesus fucking Christ Jermain; she's a fucking trannie!" Ronnie exclaimed.

The three men stared incredulously at the sexy mature woman who was trying desperately to press herself into the wall. Ronnie kicked the door closed and locked it.

"Get your arse over here bitch!" he ordered.

Michele cautiously walked over to the middle of the room. Ronnie reached out and snapped on the ceiling lights so that he could get a good look at her. There was no doubt that the men were looking a transvestite and not a real woman; but she still looked hot!

Their eyes roamed brazenly over her face and body. Her pretty hazel eyes, heavily made-up with lashings of eyeliner, mascara and eyeshadow; her cheeks rouged and lips painted plum-red. Her mature but attractive face framed by the brunette bob. Her body, slim by male standards, was large but generously proportioned for a woman, she filled out her skirt and blouse nicely. Michele's insistence on attention to detail emphasised her feminine sensuality: the nailpolish, the jewellery, the way the hem of her skirt caressed her thighs. The men glared wantonly at her silken hosed legs; their eyes roamed from her firm thighs to her high heeled feet. The smell of her perfume wafted across the room.

"Fuck Mike I can't believe it's you under that makeup; you look ... well ... sexy!" Danny blurted out.

"Fuck yeah!" both Ronnie and Jermain said at the same time in agreement.

Ronnie felt himself becoming aroused as he blatantly ogled Michele, his eyes devouring her body. Jermain was also becoming stimulated, an obvious bulge growing in the front of his jeans.

Michele was slowly becoming aware of the men's interest in her. On some visceral level she was thankful that the men had not burst out laughing and ridiculed her for being a crossdresser and was even flattered that they found her attractive but on a conscious level she was deeply disturbed.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking Jermain?" Ronnie said smiling sinisterly.

"Fuck yeah," Jermain replied, "I've never fucked a trannie before but this bitch is hot."

Michele felt her herself becoming feint; she was now absolutely terrified by the bizarre situation developing right here in her hotel room.

Jermain poked Danny in the back with his pistol and led him over to a chair and sat him down. He used Danny's and Ronnie's neckties to tie his wrists to the arms of the chair and stuffed a pair of Mike's socks in his mouth to gag him. Danny was very confused; the cocktail of drugs and alcohol was wearing off but was still having an effect on him; and seeing Mike dressed as a woman was just absolutely astonishing. He sat there in silence, breathing around the gag, gob-smacked at what was happening as Jermain sat down beside him covering him with the gun.

Michele wasn't stupid; she knew that she had no chance of fighting off these men, they were armed and they were dangerous criminals. She was a software salesman dressed as a woman. She had no chance! She made up her mind then and there to capitulate and hopefully get this horrible nightmare over and done with.

"Get over here bitch!" Ronnie ordered and Michele capitulated.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he said, tracing a finger slowly down her body, starting at her painted red lips and stopping at the hem of her skirt.

"I know that underneath that makeup and sexy clothes you ain't a real woman but damn you look hot! So this is how it's going to work."

"You're going to take good care of me and Jermain; you're going to do whatever we want without complaint and then if you've been a good girl we're going to leave you and fatso over there still breathing." Ronnie finished.

Michele realised that these men were obviously violent criminals used to getting exactly what they wanted; quite prepared to take it by force if necessary.

"Ok," she whispered.

"You bet your sweet sexy arse ok!" Ronnie said.

"Now get your arse here and get to work bitch; I we ain't got all night."

Michele felt trepidation as she was pulled into Ronnie's arms and he kissed her full on the lips, sliding his tongue into his mouth, encircling her in his arms. Michele forced herself to relax as he sucked on her tongue, pulling her body hard against his but she was filled with dread as she felt his cock begin to swell against her body. Ronnie took Michele's hand in his and moved it between their bodies down into his crotch and grunted into her mouth.

"Touch it bitch; you know you want to."

Michele reached out and tentatively stroked Ronnie's tumescent member through his suit pants. It felt big and hard and although she was sure it was her imagination, it appeared to radiate heat through the thin material of his trousers. Ronnie's cock tented the front of his trousers and he gave out a little moan as Michele cautiously fondled him, her ruby-red fingernails scratched at the thin trouser material as she slowly and excruciatingly traced the outline of his cock.

"Take it out bitch," Ronnie panted into her mouth and then crushed her lips with his.

He was pushing his groin against Michele's body, trapping her hand between them, as she stroked the bulge in his pants. His tongue wriggled in her mouth; the taste of her lipstick and scent of her perfume further arousing him. He pulled his groin back from Michele's body and took her hand off his tented trousers and guided her fingers to his zipper.

Michele gulped and swallowed saliva; gasping around the tongue invading her mouth; she resolved herself. She had done a little heavy petting, 'girl on girl', with other crossdressers on vary rare occasions but she had never had the desire to have a sexual encounter with man. On some sub-primal level she was again surprised and flattered that she could get a man so fiercely aroused; but on a conscious level she was revolted at what she knew have would have to do next.

Ronnie impatiently tugged at her hand until she capitulated and slowly started to unzip his fly. The chafing sound of Ronnie's zipper opening sounded ominous in the hotel room; silent except for Ronnie's groans of pleasure and Michele's ragged breathing.

"Hot damn man this bitch is hot; I gotta get me some of that!" Jermain exclaimed.

Michele's fingers hesitantly explored the opening in Ronnie's flies and soon found sleek, hard flesh. She controlled her revulsion and wrapped her fingers around Ronnie's long thick cock and felt him shudder against her. She began to stroke him inside his pants, in the futile hope that he would climax before he made her do anything more degrading.

Ronnie broke their kiss and took Michele by the shoulders and eased her body away from his a little.

"Take it out; I want to see you take it out," he whimpered, his lust evident.

Michele's painted fingernails plucked at Ronnie's belt and a single, mascara-stained, tear ran down her cheek.