Chapter 12

A few minutes later I was still in a daze, trying to rationalise to myself what had just happened. I was operating on automatic pilot, rifling through the drawers of my closet looking for a pair of nylons to replace the semen stained pair I was wearing when I heard the door to my cell rattle open and looked up to see the privacy curtain snatched open. Carmel stormed into my cell, her high-heels clattering on the cold tiled floor, a look of intense consternation on her face.

"What the fuck have you done Michele?" she screamed into my face.

"That little dweeb Brendan is whining to Steve about how you ripped him off; didn't give him his money's worth and such. I hope you ain't fucking around here girl because you're playing with more than just your own wellbeing!" she went on.

I was still trying to come to grips with what was happening to me. How quickly I had been re-born as Michele, the transvestite prostitute and how quickly I had managed to revive those long suppressed seductive skills that had made men lust after me. I was thinking about the years of therapy that I had undertaken the last time I had gotten out Chelmsford. During my therapy I had worked through the years of continued threats of violence and blackmail which had caused me to adopt the persona of Michele, the transvestite whore. I was feeling perplexed, remorseful and angry all at the same time.

"Fuck him Carmel!" I shouted at her.

"He came here to get sexual gratification; and that's what he got! He doesn't give a fuck about me and I don't give a fuck about him! It's all about fulfilling their sick fantasises."

"These freaks are locked up here in cages, and their only way of getting relief, other than wanking themselves stupid, is to pay ridiculous prices to have sex with transvestites and pretend to themselves that we are women."

"Well fuck them! I'm being forced to do what I have to do to protect my family from that sick fuck Steve; as long as the punters get off and leave me alone I will use very trick in the book to keep them from degrading me further!" I finished ranting and turned back to the drawer, rummaging around to get another pair of stockings.

I was in a hurry to remove the pair I was wearing. The smell of sex fluids and the feel of Brendan's slimy semen as it cooled on my stockings was starting to make me feel sick.

Then I heard a roar from down the corridor and the loud deliberate stomp of heavy prison boots approaching my cell. The curtain was flung aside and 'Iron Bar' Steve stormed into my cell.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing you crazy cunt!" he shouted and spun me around to face him.

His face was red and angry and he grabbed me by the shoulders started to shake me, his spittle flying as he yelled into my face.

"You fucking around with the punters? You some smart cunt who rips off my customers? You willing to gamble with the lives of your sister and your niece because you don't want a dick in you?"

"You're a fucking transvestite whore, and the last time you were in Chelmsford you sucked and fucked your way through five years of hard time. You can tell everyone your bullshit story about how the shrinks have convinced you that you only did what you did to survive; but I know the truth Michele. You seem to forget that I've had you. I've fucked you!"

"Sure you pretend that you didn't like it, but you always ended up liking what was happening to you. How the fuck could you live as the wife of a con for all those years if you didn't like it?" he finished.

"I just did what I had to, to survive. I had to get away from you and Eddie! I had to!" I screamed back at him.

"Well you know what? I don't fucking care either way! You're my whore; you work for me, and you do what I say!" Steve continued to yell into my face.

"I know that you know how to please the punters 'cause I've seen you do it, and that's exactly what you are going to do!" he paused and then went on.

"I'm going to call Danny and have him pay a little call on your sister. Nothing too violent; just a little indecent assault is all. It's just my way of proving to you that I'm not fucking around here. But first, I have to punish you in a way so that the others can see that I mean business. No hard feelings," he finished with a wicked grin.

I was shocked and felt my knees start to give way.

"You're supposed to keep these fucking whores in line," he snapped at Carmel.

"Now get all of those fucking bitches lined up outside this cell so they can see what happens when they don't do what I pay them for. If you can't take charge of these bitches I will!"

"Get them all here! Pull back those fucking curtains so they can see, you fucking useless cow!" he screamed.

I started to swoon with shock as I realised the consequences of my actions. An unspeakable horror would now be inflicted on my sister. I felt myself start to collapse and Steve grabbed hold of me and pulled me over to the bed. He sat down hard and threw me over his knees like a lifeless puppet, my head hanging inches off the ground.

I slowly turned my head and through my blurred vision I could see half a dozen pairs of legs in high heels and stockings. I twisted my head further and saw the heavily made-up eyes of Steve's stable of transvestite prostitutes watching me through the bars. Some of the whores had their customers with them; they had drifted along with the prostitutes when they had been ordered from their workrooms to witness my punishment.

I recognised Charlotte, one of the whores who I worked with here in E Block the last time I was inside Chelmsford. She was a little older and a little fatter but obviously still enjoyed her work. She was dressed in a red satin micro-mini and a gold tank top that stretched around her rolls of fat. Her shiny black high heels had to be six inches high and were complemented by black seamed, fully-fashioned stockings. A teased out blonde wig topped her heavily made up face and she smacked gum between her bright red lipsticked lips as her current customer stood beside her; dressed only in his jeans, he was rubbing his muscled body against her. His turgid penis was poking out of his jeans and Charlotte was absent-mindedly masturbating him with a satin-gloved hand as she stared at me intensely.

Steve yelled out at the assembled whores, "You see this bitch lying here across my lap. She ripped off a customer; she didn't give him what he paid for!"

"My customers always come first," he laughed at his own pun, "and when my girls don't treat their customers right, I won't treat them right!" he finished and with lightening speed he flicked up my skirt and slapped his open hand down on my pantied buttocks.

The sound of the slap echoed through E Block and a scalding pain erupted on my bottom as I screamed in shock. I heard the other girls gasp and as I looked through my tear filled eyes I could see that they were wincing while Steve started to paddle my arse.

The pain of the spanking was tolerable but as Steve continued to rain down a steady stream of slaps on my arse cheeks, the flimsy material of my panties did nothing to soften the sting of the blows. I wriggled and scissor-kicked my legs as I tried to break free, but it was no use, Steve kept me pinned on his lap with his free hand.

"See this you bitches," he screamed at the congregation of whores and punters who were staring in fascination at what was happing to me, "This is what happens when you fuck with 'Iron Bar' Steve!"

Steve's spanking continued and my rear throbbed as the pain settled into a stinging burn in my buttocks. I had stopped squirming and was lying like a rag doll in Steve's lap, sobbing with pain and mortification. I turned my head again and looked up at the small crowd watching my humiliation. Brendan was watching me intently and he actually looked a little sympathetic to my plight. Some of the girls winced in sympathy each time Steve's hand smacked my arse; but some of the girls and most of the punters eyes wore the gaze of predators watching a struggling prey.

Prison predators, by their nature, take pleasure in the degradation, humiliation and pain of other inmates. When that other inmate is an attractive, heavily made-up, transvestite as she lying across the lap of her captor, with her skirt rucked up around her waist and her stockinged legs and high-heeled feet kicking and struggling, then it is indeed a pleasing sight.

The punter standing next to Charlotte was staring intently at me; and each time Steve's hand smacked down on my panty-clad arse he thrust his hips forward to intensify the pleasure his cock was receiving from Charlotte's preoccupied stroking.

Suddenly he writhed and groaned and streams of hot semen shot out from his throbbing member. The sticky ropes spattered all over Charlotte's black velvet glove, the semen glistened in the overhead lights of the corridor. A few globs of creamy white spunk splattered on her red satin mini and ran down her legs, staining her black nylons and pooled on the toe of her high-heel.

Charlotte howled and pushed him away, the punter laughed at her plight as he stuffed his still turgid penis back inside his jeans.

"You fucking arsehole; you just come all over my favourite skirt and sheers," she chided, but she obviously not seriously concerned.

"You heard Steve! The customer's always right; you wait until I get you back in your cell you fat cow, I've got plenty more where that came from," he teased and Carmel reached up and kissed him passionately.

Steve had grown tired of paddling my arse and the disturbance outside the bars of my cell was the excuse he needed to stop punishing me.

"Ok you whores; you've seen what Michele got for not looking after her customer right, so you better make sure you all do, unless you want some of the same," he yelled at the transvestite hookers.

"Now fuck off back to your work rooms and start earning some fucking money!" he finished, and the small crowd slowly disbursed.

Charlotte turned on her heels to leave and her punter stuck his hand under her skirt and nuzzled at her neck; she chuckled as he muffled an obscenity in her ear.

I saw all this through tear-streaked eyes, the pain in my buttocks burning and throbbing but slowly starting to subside. I was more humiliated than physically hurt. I remained bent over Steve's lap with my skirt rucked up, the toes of my high heels just touching the floor.