Chapter 9

I lay there stunned, how had I miscalculated my effect on the Warden? The one man who could guarantee a transfer from this shit-hole; fuck!!!!

The cravings of male sexual hunger within the confines of the four walls of Chelmsford Prison did not stop just because there were visiting days with the guards bribed to look the other way (or wantonly stare) whilst prisoners wives or girlfriends masturbated and fellated their partners in the visitors room. On completion of these visits the prisoners were seldom fully satisfied when they stuffed their sticky, deflating penises back into their grubby prison fatigues; they had the same appetites as men everywhere and wanted sex daily if they could get it.

In this rough world of imprisoned men where the inmates had only the slight chance of sex during visiting hours, I knew that when I was forced to dressed as a woman, I was enticing to these sexually deprived animals. The prisoners had only the fumbling wanks and sloppy fellatio provided by their wives and girlfriends as they dipped their hands and heads below the Formica topped tables during visiting hours.

The lack of normal heterosexual relations available to the inmates was the catalyst that allowed Eddie to make a fortune running his prison brothel with his string of transvestite prostitute inmates. Men starved of female companionship took their pleasure where they could; and there were also undoubtedly some prisoners and guards who preferred sex with transvestites regardless of the availability of women.

I was the latest addition to Eddie's stable, and although being forced to crossdress and prostitute myself was repulsive to me, I knew from recent events that I was irresistible to the inmates and guards who found their pleasure this way. So why had the Warden been so contemptible to me after treating me so nicely at first? I had obviously overplayed my hand when I tried to make my proposal for a transfer out of Chelmsford. Stupid me! I decided that I had better come up with another solution to get out of this disgusting place. Perhaps blackmail might work where my charms had failed?

"Well Michele, you really managed to piss the Governor off somehow! Come on you naughty girl, lets get you back to your cell so you can get cleaned up and rested; you still have to work tonight," Steve said, lifting me to my feet.

He leant down and picked up my skirt and shoe from where the Warden had thrown them on the floor.

"Here sweetheart, put these on," he offered the items to me smiling.

I slid the patent leather black high-heeled sandal over my stockinged foot, my painted toenails visible through the torn reinforced toes of my pantyhose. The silver anklet around my left ankle was still there, sparkling as the light reflected off it. I slid the navy blue skirt up my legs and wiggled my pantied arse into it and tried to smooth it down my thighs. I leaned against Steve to steady myself whilst I dressed and I heard him gasp as he wantonly ogled me. The split in the side seam of the skirt exposed my sheer hosed legs right up to the top of my thigh, and I exposed a glimpse of white satin panty as I adjusted my translucent white nylon slip under my skirt. I felt Steve's hard muscled bicep as my painted fingernails dug into his arm and remembered how dangerous this could be.

"Christ you look good Michele. With that torn skirt, laddered stockings and messed-up makeup you look like a stray waif who needs rescuing."

"And fucking," I heard him whisper to himself.

"Come on, we better get a move on," Steve pushed me through the door onto the stairwell landing.

He pushed me against the wall and pressed his full weight against me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

"Shhh! I think I hear someone on the stairs below us!"

"We'll have to wait here and be quiet until the coast is clear," he whispered in my ear.

Steve pressed tighter against me, my back was pushed hard against the cold concrete wall. Steve was breathing into my ear his breath quickening.

"I can't hear anything," I whispered.

"Shhh! If you can't shut up I'll have to shut you up!" he whispered hoarsely and pressed his lips against mine.

I felt the groan in the back of his throat and heat from his body. He kept his lips locked on mine and then I felt him slowly start to rub himself against me, his member thickening in his jeans and pushing against my lower body. Steve's hands came up and pressed my arms tight against my body in a vice-like grip as he continued to kiss me and move against my body.

"Keep quiet; we can't afford to be found here outside the Governor's office; Eddie would kill me," he whispered hoarsely between kisses.

I tried to open my mouth to protest and he slid his tongue into my mouth and passionately tongue kissed me. I was resigned to my fate. What could I do? I was still shocked from the ravaging I had received from the Warden. Steve released one hand and slid his arm between our bodies, still kissing me and flattening me against the hard wall. He fumbled around; I knew what he was doing, and then I heard the rasp as he opened his zipper.

His hard penis leapt free from its denim prison and I felt the hard hot texture of it as it came to rest against the material of my skirt. Steve groaned again and repositioned his hands. His body now pushed me harder against wall; his right hand pushed on the back of my neck pulling my face and lips hard against his; his left hand slid up my right thigh, his callused fingers whispering against the nylon of my hose.

It was deathly quiet on the stairwell. All I could hear was Steve's heavy breathing, the occasional groan in the back of his throat, the whispery murmur of his fingers stroking my pantyhose and the rustle of my skirt rubbing against my body as he pushed his cock against me and gyrated his hips. There was no sound of voices or footfalls.

I managed to briefly break the lock of his lips on mine and pleaded,

"There's no one coming Steve; quick let's get back to my cell while the coast is clear!"

"Shut the fuck up bitch!" he hissed, "There is one person coming soon and that's me!" he confirmed his intention to take me in this cold bleak stairwell.

I squeezed my arms up between us and pushed against his shoulders in an attempt to fight him off. Steve just pulled my face back to his and carried on kissing me, thrusting his tongue over my lipstick-smeared lips and deep into my mouth. His hand on my thigh seized the hem of my skirt and wrenched it up; as he did so he adjusted his stance so that his hard hot penis pressed between my nylon encased thighs.

Steve groaned again and began to rub his engorged member in the crevice created by pantyhosed thighs. I locked my thighs together in a vain attempt to stop him. Steve now repositioned his hands and bought them both down to my buttocks, taking one buttock in each of his big strong hands, squeezing them through the material of my skirt. The hem at the front of my skirt remained ridden up so that his cock was nestled in the 'Y' shaped silken valley created by my hosed thighs and white satin panties. Steve now began to push his steel hard member in and out of this silken trap, his cock pressing further between my legs with each thrust. He was 'dry humping me' the dirty bastard!

I beat my fists against his hard muscled shoulders trying to discourage him, but it was useless. Steve now lifted my buttocks upwards and as he did so my body slid up the wall and my feet lifted off the floor; Christ he was strong! My high heels left the ground and as Steve continued to lift me up against the wall he pushed his body weight against me, forcibly opening my legs. As hard as I tried to press my legs closed, the force of his body and his strong arms proved no match for by feeble efforts as my fists drummed against his chest and shoulders.

Steve suddenly heaved me up and at the same time repositioned his grip under the tops of my thighs as he pushed me back against the wall with his bodyweight. My feet were now completely off the ground and my thighs spread further, unencumbered by my torn skirt. Steve pressed his groin into me and I felt his turgid penis throbbing against the satin gusset of my panties. He adjusted his position slightly and I felt his member begin to slide under the gusset of my panties and push against the sheer nylon crotch of my pantyhose.

Steve was panting with excitement and exertion; his hot breath was in my mouth and then on my cheeks as he kissed me hotly on my lips and face. He moaned,

"Michele; please ... I'll be gentle honey ... God you're so lovely!"

What could I do? Resistance was futile and would probably only cause me pain.

I moved my hands from his chest and wrapped them around his neck and slid my nyloned calves around his waist. Had anyone come up or down the stairwell they would have been greeted with the following sight:

A large muscular man embracing a petite businesswoman, bracing her up off the floor and against the cold brick wall, her arms locked in embrace around his bull neck whilst her legs were locked around his waist to help support her weight. Her painted toenails peeking through patent leather black high-heeled sandals, her sleek legs sheathed in laddered, diaphanous sheer black nylons, with dark reinforced cuban heels and toes, the seams of the nylons running up the backs of her legs.

She wore a navy blue suit. The skirt was ripped up one side and was snug at the waist and tight around her hips and bottom. A glimpse of translucent white nylon full slip was visible where her skirt was torn and where the front of her skirt had ridden up as she clutched herself to the muscular inmate who held her captive. A flimsy white nylon blouse peeked through her navy blue suit blazer designed to match her skirt.

An observer would then notice her pretty feminine face. She wore pinkish hued eye shadow, blended with light aqua to just under her eyebrows. Lashings of black eyeliner and mascara had been applied to her lids and lashes and had smudged around her eyes and had run down her cheeks from the tears she had recently shed. Her plum coloured lipstick was smeared around her lips from the frenzied kisses that had been forced upon her. Her hair was a black bob wig, and a pair of silver and diamond encrusted sapphire drop earrings hung from her ears, a matching pendant around her neck.

She looked defeated and submissive as the powerful thug supported her, pushing her against the wall as he thrust against her grunting and panting whilst he defiled her.

Steve was kissing me hard, his tongue assaulting my mouth. His rampant member slid back and forth, snug between the nylon of my pantyhosed crotch and the satin gusset of my panties. He picked up the pace and pushed his cock harder into the crevice between my buttocks. He settled into a steady rhythm as he dry fucked me, his pelvis thrusting back and forth as he pleasured himself. I just hung on and offered no resistance, allowing him to gratify his primal urges; I just wanted it over with. I responded to his kisses and pushed my arse against him to increase his pleasure and hasten his climax.

Suddenly Steve slammed me against the wall and thrust forward and upwards with all his strength. I felt the glans of his member push firmly against the nylon of my hose and then felt the thin gauzy material stretch and finally give. His rock hard penis nestled in the bud of my sphincter and began to shoot hot spurts of semen. The warm slick liquid lubricated my puckered bud and his member slid deep inside me, pulsing and spewing streams of his seed into my back passage. Steve's tongue pulsated in my mouth and I responded as I felt an uncontrollable wave of please wash over me.

The head of Steve's penis was pushing hard against my prostate, his vibrating rampant flesh shooting hot jets of come inside me causing me to orgasm spontaneously. I suddenly emptied my seed into my silky pantyhose and satin panties that encased my sex organs. Steve's crotch pushed the filmy material against my scrotum, increasing the sensations as they shot through my body, amplified by feel of the sheer nylon hose on my legs and the silky full slip and blouse on my torso.

Steve thrust me hard against the wall as he emptied himself inside me; I groaned and forced myself against him. Steve shuddered and moaned, torrents of semen spewed from his member and dribbled out of me, pooling in my panties.

As our orgasms subsided Steve eased me slowly to the ground and as he did so his cock slid from inside me unleashing a further torrent of come into my undergarments. I tottered on my high heels and held on to him, the last of our kisses becoming softer and tender until I was standing there on shaking legs, my back against the wall for support. Steve adjusted himself and zipped up. He leaned forward and pressed a light butterfly kiss on my cheek.

"Come on honey lets get you back to your cell before Eddie comes looking for us," he whispered, and nuzzled my neck briefly.

As Steve led me dazed and confused up the stairwell and back to my cell I began to realise what had just happened. Again I felt repulsed by my uncontrollable sexual responses. I loathed myself for capitulating and even worse for taking pleasure in the sick, twisted sex life into which I had been enslaved.

Steve dropped me off at my cell and made me strip. He took away my female attire and led me to the showers. He stood guard while I washed off my makeup and showered in the empty cellblock ablutions, the other cellblock inmates were at work but he was taking no chances that anyone might decide to have some fun with one Eddie's 'girls' out of business hours. I have to say I felt better knowing that Steve was there to watch my back whilst I was in there alone. Steve didn't say much to me at all after I had taken off my female clothing and washed off my makeup; it was as though he had no time for Mike, he just lusted after 'Michele'.

I spent the last part of the day alone in my cell contemplating how I was going to get out of the mess I was in. I watched the clock, dreading the passing of time as the minutes advanced into hours. 'Iron Bar' Steve finally knocked on my cell door and entered,

"Time for work; let's go," he said.

Steve led me back to E Block, the deserted wing that Eddie had set up as his brothel. He handed me over to Mabel who told me to strip. She inspected me all over as I just stood there meekly letting her prod, poke and stroke me.

"You need a good shaving girl," she clucked, and led me down to E block's shower rooms.

She had me sit on a stool and shaved the light stubble from my face and then proceeded to remove any remaining hair from my arms, legs and chest. She then rubbed moisturiser all over my body and dressed me in a light blue satin kimono.

"Come on love, you can get ready for work in your workroom," she muttered leading me out into the corridor to my workroom cell.

'Ready for Work! Workroom! Who the fuck was she kidding, ' I thought to myself. 'What she really meant was go and make yourself into a woman so the sick bastards in this hellhole can violate you!'

As I passed down the corridor two of the cells had low red lamplight emitting from the flimsy curtains which had been pulled across the bars at the front of the cells. I heard muffled grunts and groans, and as I passed the first cell I heard the slapping sound of flesh against flesh. I could just make out the silhouette of what appeared to be a woman bending over a chair as a large man stood behind her pounding himself against her buttocks.

I could just make out that her panties were pooled around her ankles above ridiculously tall high-heels. As the large man plunged forward into her she shuddered and tottered on her heels, she held on to the back of the chair and the legs of the chair made a scraping noise each time she was pushed forward slightly with each thrust. The man appeared to be fully clothed and grunted like a pig with each lunge of his body; he held on to her tight at the waist. The woman, actually a crossdressed whore, gasped as each thrust rammed his groin against her buttocks with a loud slap.

I couldn't see anything in the second cell; I could just hear the slurping sounds associated with a well-trained fellatrix at work and the murmurs of a man being satisfied.

"Just Carmel and Charlotte servicing a couple of guards before we open for business," Mabel said as we passed by on the way to my workroom cell.

"Eddie gives the guards a freebie and they keep watch for him and keep out the rabble. Business is business in Chelmsford prison honey; we all have to pay our way," she sniggered.

She led me to the cell door and I noticed that heavy curtains had been rigged on a rod above the cell bars that opened on to the corridor. They were pulled back at the moment but they did not bode well for me this evening I guessed. Mabel pushed me through the door and walked over to the armoire. She rummaged around and pulled out what appeared to be a schoolgirl's uniform.

"You've got a 'special' first up love; get dressed, Eddie's bringing a friend in half an hour."

"He wants to play 'Naughty Schoolgirl.'"

Mabel rummaged around in the drawers and selected lingerie that she threw onto the oversize cot. She looked at the assortment of wigs and selected a blonde, shoulder length wig.

"Shame we haven't got time to make up some pigtail braids on that wig, but he's not really that fussed on authenticity if you know what I mean; it's more of a costume dress-up thing with him," she shrugged.

"Well come on love, get a fucking move on!" she ordered and pottered out of the cell to go about her duties.

"Fucking old tranny fag-hag!" I hissed to the empty cell after she had left.

I knew the routine well enough by now and resigned myself to getting dressed; failing to comply with Eddie's orders would only result in a beating.

I sorted through the lingerie on my cot and laid it out so I could dress with a minimum of fuss. First I slipped a red satin garter belt around my waist and clipped it together at my belly button. I twisted it around so it faced the right way, smoothed out the satin panel at the front and straightened out the three red garter straps connected to each side of the belt.

Next I slipped into the nearly nude sheer nylon stockings Mabel had selected. I pulled each one up my freshly shaven legs and attached my suspender belt to the reinforced lace panels at the top of each stocking with the three garter straps. As I smoothed out the wrinkles in the delicate nylon along my legs little sparks of sensuality ran through me. I shrugged the sensation off and continued to dress.