Lady in the House

by Michele Nylons

Part VI

 

From Part V

Harry leant over me and kissed me full on the lips.

"That was worth every penny; you are one hot nurse," he laughed.

Harry grabbed a handful of my clean white skirt and wiped his cock on it. The silvery gleam of semen and KY jelly stained the fabric; there was also a faint trace of blood.

Harry hitched up his pants and made for the door, tightening his belt; he looked back at the dishevelled, raped, nurse sitting legs akimbo on the bed, a look of shock on her face and her tunic stained with semen and blood,

"Yep, you are one fucking hot nurse alright; maybe next time you can play Nun!"

I heard his laughter fading as he walked down the passageway past the other cells to what I presumed to be the waiting room. The waiting room where undoubtedly there were more customers waiting. I closed my eyes as the tears ran slowly down my cheeks.

 

Part VI

I reached across and pressed the orange button to switch on the amber light indicating to Mabel that I was not yet ready for another visitor. I noticed the blue light was lit, indicating that I had another 'customer', or as Carmel would say "a punter" waiting.

I looked across and saw Carmel kissing the huge Negro who had previously been fiercely sodomising her. He pushed a handful of notes down her bra, spanked her playfully on the arse, and strolled out the cell. I quickly hid my face so that we would not make eye contact; I did not want him for a customer; not from what I saw of him when he was violently fucking Carmel.

I walked up to the cell bars and whispered to Carmel across the passageway, I could hear grunts and sighs as the other 'working girls' serviced their clients in the other four cells,

"Carmel, Carmel!"

"Hi Michele, see what Leon gave me?" She smiled pulling out a handful of notes from her bra;

"He is always a big tipper; and he has a big tip down there too!" she laughed at her own pun.

I had no time for this; I had important questions to ask. Carmel ignited the obligatory menthol cigarette.

"What do I do now; I pressed the orange button but the blue light is still on. Do I make the punter wait until I'm cleaned up or what?"

"Oh my God; Carmel, I want this to stop. I have just been sodomised so hard my back passage is bleeding!"

I started to sob again.

"Cut that shit out Michele; you need to harden-up girl or you won't survive!"

"Talk to Mabel on the intercom, sometimes the punters don't care too much how you look, especially if they just want a 'quickie'."

Again I was amazed at how quickly these perverts had degraded me down to their level. I was thinking of these crossdressed prison prostitutes as 'girls' and the men who raped me for money as 'punters'; plus I even understood what she meant by a 'quickie', it wasn't rocket science after all!"

I pressed the talk button,

"Mabel I'm not cleaned and dressed yet," I whispered in my best imitation of a feminine voice.

I hoped she would have some sympathy for me now that I was capitulating in this perverted parody of forced feminisation and prostitution.

"Don't bovver Michele; he's on his way. He just wants a quickie and this is a freebie so you better make it quick; time is money!"

What the fuck did she mean: 'Freebie'? I was about to find out.

The unmistakable navy blue uniform of a prison guard came into view. He was a fat man with a florid complexion, he was sweating heavily with the exertion of carrying around such a large gut.

I had sat back down on the bed and evened out my white nurse's uniform skirt, the semen and bloodstains were not too visible, but I knew they were there. My white pantyhose had laddered down one leg from the hole that my last customer had ripped in the gusset.

I did not recognise the fat guard but I knew he must be in charge of one of the other wings as he wore Sargent's stipes on his sleeve. He came straight into the cell, sweating and puffing, and without saying a word unzipped his fly.

I looked up in stunned amazement as he walked up to the bed, reached out a hand around the back of my head, and with his other hand, pushed his semi tumescent, uncircumcised penis into my mouth.

I started to gag immediately because the taste was so foul. It tasted of stale urine, and a cheesy taste that could only be the built up detritus of bodily secretions that had coagulated and fermented under his foreskin. It was the most disgusting taste I had ever tasted and my gagging increased.

The guard pulled his cock out of my mouth, pushed my head back and tilted it up to look at him; his fat face was snarling and vicious. He slapped me once across the face. He didn't say anything; he just wagged his finger in my face. The slap wasn't even that hard, it was just the surprise and his continued silence that stunned me.

He took his semi-hard cock into his hand again and pushed it against my lips. I knew enough by now to realise that my only salvation was to make him come as quickly as possible. I opened my mouth and pushed out my tongue. I deliberately licked at the lipstick on my lips to try and mask the fetid taste of the guard's penis. I then started to lick all around his knob that was half exposed out of the wrinkled foreskin.

I bought up my hand with the intention of masturbating the guard while I slobbered on his glans with my tongue and lips so he would ejaculate over my body rather than in my mouth. The guard would have nothing of it and slapped my hand away; he again grabbed my head and forced his cock between my lips and into my mouth.

He was still silent except for his heavy breathing and grunting. The smell of stale sweat wafted from his filthy body. He bought his other hand up now and cradled my head between both hands, the dirty fingers enmeshed in my hair behind my ears. Then he raped my mouth. There is no other way to describe it.

His penis became engorged and hard, the glans were now fully exposed as his foreskin pulled back from the bulbous knob. The foul taste of his cock was now so rancid I thought I might gag again so I did the best thing I could under the circumstances and worked up as much saliva as I could to wash his knob clean with my tongue. I worked up more spit and continued to slaver his cock with my tongue; this had the effect of cleaning his cock and cleaning out my mouth as I swallowed the foul mess that had coagulated under his foreskin.

These actions also obviously increased the guard's pleasure as he now increased his tempo, thrusting his erect member in and out of my mouth. He pulled his cockhead out as far as my lips and then rammed it home as far as it would go. Luckily his cock was not very big and I had no problems accommodating him, it was just so hard to breathe with it jack-hammering in and out of my mouth.

On the in-stroke he pulled my head forward to that my nose was buried in his fat gut overhanging his loins. He forced my head onto his penis so hard that my teeth rattled on the metal zipper of his fly. He was sweating so much that I could feel drops of his disgusting perspiration dripping off his jowls and on to my head.

He continued to grunt like a pig as he fucked my face; his now rock hard cock with its spongy head tasted salty as precum started to leak from the eye of his glans. He pushed it in and out faster and harder, pulling it out nearly all the way then slamming it home so that my face was buried in his crotch.

Then he pushed my face into his crotch as hard as he could and held it there. I couldn't breath! I felt my gag reflex returning as I struggled to get oxygen into my mouth or nose. I reached out and tried to push myself back from him but his vice-like grip was too strong; he pushed my face harder into his crotch.

I couldn't help it, I stated to gag, my mouth convulsing and my tongue flailing around in my mouth. At the same time my fists were drumming against his thighs as I tried to push myself away. That was when he stated laugh! He also said the only word he ever spoke,

"Good!"

He held my face hard against him and as I started to blackout I felt his penis convulse in my mouth. Stream after stream of creamy, salty, hot semen shot into the back of my mouth. As the guard's cock continued to eject its foul jets of spunk he continued to laugh. He was laughing as he orgasmed.

At last he released the tight grip on my head and allowed me to take a breath through my nose. As soon as I did he pushed my face back into his crotch. As my mouth filled up with his sickly seed I had no choice but to swallow. If I didn't I would choke. His ejaculation seemed to go on forever and try as I might I could not swallow all his come. It welled up in the back of my throat as his cock continued to throb and convulse. I coughed and felt his slimy emissions force its way up the back of my throat and then run out of my nostrils. I felt disgusted.

Then the guard pushed me away. I fell on the bed gagging, sobbing and coughing; trying to breathe. He reached down and grabbed my hair and pulled my face up again so I was looking at him from level with his waist. His face was bright red, florid and sweaty. His jowls dripped sweat down his shirt. Without a word he rubbed his now deflating penis all over my face mixing his semen with my tears and my makeup. Then he put his cock inside his pants, zipped up and walked away. I had never felt so humiliated in my life.

 

I lay on the bed sobbing. I looked up through the tears, makeup and semen in my eyes and noticed that the blue light on the intercom was mercifully extinguished. I reached out slapped the switch to turn on the orange busy light. The intercom suddenly crackled and I heard Mabel, the crossdressed old con who was our 'madam'.

"Take half an hour hun, it's gone quiet for now and it's getting late; get cleaned up and give me a call."

I half groaned into the intercom,

"Sure."

I wanted to just lay on the cot and cry myself to sleep but I knew that Carmel was right, I had to harden up if I was to survive. I had to find out as much as I could about this sick operation so that I could tell someone in authority so they would get me out of this nightmare.

I stood and stripped off my stained nurse's uniform, slid out of my high heels and pulled down the tattered pantyhose. I threw the hose in the bin, stripped off my remaining underwear and placed it with the uniform in the washing basket that was tucked away in the corner. I noticed the little ridiculous nurses cap on the floor and picked that up on the way. I pulled off my wig and put on the satin robe. All of these movements caused me significant pain. My head ached from the slapping I had received, my back passage felt like someone had put a red hot poker up there, and I was now immensely tired. I had no watch but guessed it was after 3:00am.

I padded out of my cell with my makeup case in hand and made my way down the dim passageway. I deliberately tried not to look in the other darkened cells but in the subdued red lighting I could see Carmel was kneeling on her cell floor and fellating a con who was sitting on her bed. His head was propped back on a mountain of fluffy pillows, his eyes closed as he enjoyed her ministrations.

As I passed the end cell on the right I heard muffled yelps and couldn't help but peek. I saw a fat crossdressed 'working girl' dressed in a French maid's outfit, baby-doll blonde wig and heavy makeup; a skinny little con was riding her doggy style on the bed. He had her black satin maid's skirt rucked up over her back and her black satin panties hung from one fat, black-stockinged ankle as he humped her and smacked her plump white ass as he did. She yelped every time he smacked her, but she seemed to be smiling and pushing back to meet his thrusts. If my life weren't so tragic I would have found the sight immensely funny I suppose.

I continued on to the shower-block and let the scalding hot water wash away my makeup, tears, and the semen from two different men. I was so close to crying again but held back. I heard the shower next door suddenly splash into life.

"Hello?" I asked with a trembling voice.

"Hi hun," I heard the response as a male falsetto.

"I'm Charlotte. No Charlotte the Harlot jokes please!" she laughed.

"Welcome to E Block Michele," came the voice over the shower cubicle.

"You know who I am then?" I asked.

"Oh of course hun, it's always the talk of the nick when a new girl starts working for Eddie."

I turned off the water and towelled myself dry thinking about what Charlotte had said: 'talk of the nick'?

Charlotte emerged from the shower with a huge silk bathrobe wrapped around her generous proportions. She was the French maid I had seen on my way out of the cellblock. She made her way over to the line of stainless steel mirrors and began to apply makeup to her plump but pretty face.

"What do you mean by 'talk of the nick'?" I asked taking a seat beside her and applying foundation to my face.

"Well Carmel should have told you everything; didn't she?"

I went on to explain to Charlotte what Carmel had told me and also what I had figured out for myself. I made no mention of my plan to escape this hellhole; Charlotte like Carmel seemed to accept the situation and even seemed to like what was happening to her.

"Well you seem to have it figured out pretty well hun. Eddie owns us girls, Steve is the muscle, Mabel is the Madame; and up until yesterday darling, you used to be the accountant and secretary."

"I suppose you still are Eddie's secretary," she said sarcastically.

"Lots of us girls started out working for Eddie in other roles; as runners, dealers, or small time worker bees. Eddie seems to have the knack of knowing which cons will look like sexy women when they're crossdressed; feminised if you will."

"Some of the prospects are so obvious because they are 'femme' when they arrive in the nick; some convert to homosexuality as part of prison life and Eddie feminises them as willing subjects, and some like you are forced into it."

"To be honest I think Eddie likes it better when he has to force them," she smiled, smoothing on a second coat of bright red lipstick.

"How many of us are there? Crossdressed prostitutes I mean?" I asked incredulous.

"Oh not that many; about a dozen or so at any one time, but only six of us work in the workrooms."

"Some take up full time with cons who can afford to pay Eddie enough to keep them; some are just let go when Eddie has made enough from them or they break down and are sent to the psycho ward."

"Take Carmel for instance, she still works for Eddie even though she has a prison 'husband', she does it because she likes the money, she likes the gifts from Eddie, but mostly she likes the life."

"Then there is Mabel who did this for so long that she got too old to work the cells so she's Eddie's hostess, Madame, whatever; but will still give a con great time if doesn't mind mutton instead of lamb if you know what I mean?" Charlotte winked and concentrated on applying another thick coat of mascara.

"But what about the Warden? I know lots of the guards are corrupt from my time here already, but how the fuck does Eddie get to run a stable of crossdressed prostitutes out of a prison wing? I know it's this is a small disused block, but fuck me its prison property!!!!"

"Oh my god Michele for some one who is so smart you are so dumb!"

"Who the fuck do you think is Eddie's partner? It's the Governor you fucking idiot!"

I let that settle in. So it was going to be no use going to the prison authorities with my complaints; I would just have to figure a way to use my money and outside influence to go higher up the chain of authority to rescue me.

I looked at myself in the mirror; it amazed me how quickly I had got the hang of applying makeup. I had on thick coat of foundation and powder, rouged cheeks, heavily lined and mascaraed eyes, mauve over pink eye shadow, and my dark ruby red lips. I sure knew how to look like a slut after only one night!

Charlotte's makeup was even heavier than mine, and her plump bright red lips and chubby face, gave her a slutty girly look. She picked up her makeup case and stood to leave,

"Did Carmel tell you not to leave anything in here? Those other bitches will steal your knickers while you're still wearing them if they can get away with it!" she laughed.

I fell into step beside her,

"But what did you mean by me being 'talk of the nick'" I asked again.

"Oh whenever a new girl starts the punters are always interested. Eddie can charge them more because you are new, undamaged goods, but of course he has throw the senior guards a few 'freebies' to keep them on side."

"He will probably limit the amount of punters you see for the first few nights, but after that you will be the most popular girl at the ball!" she laughed.

"You like this don't you; this life?" I asked trying to keep the disgust out my voice.

"Oh Michele, I didn't like it at first, but now I love it! I work all night and sleep all day and Eddie gives me anything I want!"

"I hated it so much when I first started that I though if I got fat none of the punters would want me. I was already a bit plump so I put on another 10 kilos; guess what? Some of the punters just love us larger girls!" she giggled.

"After six months of hating myself I started to realise I liked it. I bet you have already had a few twinges in the clitty whilst those naughty men have had their way with you?" she chuckled.

"See ya," she whispered as we came adjacent to her workroom cell and slipped though the door.

I though to myself: 'How can she know? Twinges! Twinges!! I have had an orgasm for god's sake!!!' My god I hope I never get to like this wretched existence like the other wretched girls!

I entered my cell and sat on the bed. It appeared none of the other girls had punters either for now as they were either adjusting their makeup in their wardrobe mirrors or changing into robes to go to the shower and bath block. Through the bars I saw Carmel lounging on her large work cot surrounded by her mountain of satin pillows; she had the obligatory menthol cigarette and was reading a fashion magazine by the dim red light of her lamp.

To my disappointment it looked like this night's training had paid off; I knew exactly what to do next! I had been brainwashed to some extent. Without further thought I selected a brunette shoulder length wig and adjusted it in place. I opened the drawer and took out a set of matching white satin full cut panties, bra, and garter belt. I put the bra in place and tucked the breastforms into the cups. I selected a pair of diaphanous skin toned stockings that were embellished by black seams and black, reinforced heel and toes. I slipped into the garter belt, sat on the bed and slid the exquisite cool nylons onto my legs, fastening them to the garter clips. I smoothed each stocking out along my legs and adjusted the seams so they lay in the centre of the back of my legs.

I sat there stroking my legs, feeling the luxury of the expensive nylons sending little electric waves of pleasure though my body. I don't know how long I had been caressing my nyloned legs when I snapped out of the reverie.

"I will not surrender to this perversion!" I told myself.

I slipped the sleek white nylon panties up my legs and stood to adjust them in place, the little electric shocks from the swish of the nylon on nylon as they slid up my legs caused my penis to spasm involuntarily. I concentrated and pushed my wrinkled penis into the snug silken gusset of the full cut panties.

I walked to the robe and selected a white leather miniskirt and peach satin blouse. The satin of the blouse on my bare skin was again cool and luxurious; I had trouble with the buttons because they were on the wrong side. I sat on the bed again and put on the strappy white high-heeled open toe sandals that I had selected. The reinforced heels and toes of my nylons made a sexy display. I stood up and stepped into the white leather mini and hitched it up, tucking the blouse into the waistband and zipping the skirt at the side.

I went to my jewellery box and selected a small plain gold bracelet, which I fastened around my ankle. It glowed in the dim light, set off by the contrast of my silky flesh toned stockings, reinforced nylon stocking heels and the white leather ankle straps of my high heels.

I selected a simple gold chain for my neck and plain gold drop earrings. I slipped two gold and emerald rings onto my fingers. I noted my ruby red fingernail nail polish was chipped, but in this light who cared. I wondered how much, if any, of this jewellery was real.

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I saw a mature, sexy woman with brunette shoulder-length hair, wearing heavy makeup and a lovely peach satin blouse. Her jewellery was exquisite, the emerald rings on her finger contrasting with her red polished fingernails, the simple gold neck chain resting where the hint of her breasts began to rise in the satin blouse.

Her tight white leather skirt stretched across her tiny little pot belly and clung to her well formed thighs, the hem resting against her sheer nyloned thighs, displaying just a hint of dark nylon stocking tops. Following her well-formed legs down, they are encased in gossamer thin, flesh toned, nylon stockings with sexy black back-seams. The black reinforced heels and toes of her stockings peeked through the high-heeled sandals, a glimpse of red nail-polished toes just visible through the nylon. The strappy white high heel sandals pushed her feet up at the heels so that her toned calves glittered in their nylon casing, the gold anklet smoulders in the red light.

I reach out and apply a coat of powder to my lower neck and decolletage where it disappears into the satin blouse. The final touch. I look gorgeous, sophisticated but highly desirable. I look eminently fuckable!!!

I turn around and Carmel and Charlotte are in the corridor leaning on the bars of my cell and looking in; cigarette smoke drifts past Carmel's heavily made-up face and creates a halo around the jet-black hair she is wearing teased high on her head and descending past her shoulders. Her heavy Goth makeup, red lips and pale skin make her look like the caricature of a vampire in the movies. This image is reinforced by the skin-tight, black satin sleeveless dress that clings to her body and descends to her ankles. The dress is split up to the waist and one leg encased in sheer black nylon is on display to up to her thigh.

'Sheer to the waist pantyhose,' I thought to myself, then: 'Stop thinking like that; you are not a woman!'

Carmel's outfit is completed with black, satin, opera length gloves, patent leather spiked high heels and a profuseness of silver jewellery. She has a huge silver cross around her neck, long silver ear drops and silver bangles on both wrists.

Charlotte has gone punk and even though she is a big girl she carries it off somehow. The heavy makeup she applied in the shower block has been enhanced even further with more black eyeliner surrounding both of her bright blue eyes. She has extended the dark pink blush from her cheeks to the corner of her eyes and added a powder blue blush to it as a contrast. Her bright red full lips have been glossed and she has added glitter to the abundant multi-coloured eyeshadow that extends from her eyelids up to her eyebrows. Her plump pretty face is framed in a shocking, frizzy, bottle blonde wig that has pink and blue streaks running though it.

She wears a black sequined top that is slashed and torn, her red lacy bra visible in some places through the tears. Written across the front of the ripped garment in silver sequins are the words: "Fuck Slut". She is wearing a red Lycra mini that barely covers her crotch; the waistband bulges around her big belly. She is wearing ripped black fishnet stockings attached to red garters that match her bra. The fishnet stockings stop halfway up her fat thighs and I can see she is wearing shiny taupe dance tights underneath as a foundation garment; the heavy lycra shimmering in the dim red light. Her feet are clad in the tallest high-heeled pumps that I have ever seen; the heels have to be ten inches high. Charlotte has finished the outfit with outrageous jewellery. She has four gold studs in each earlobe, so many gold chains around her neck that I can't count them, and as many bangles on both wrists. Ornate safety pins decorate her torn blouse and micro mini. A gold chain runs from one earring to a gold stud in her nose.

"You look gorgeous Michele," Carmel whispers through the bars.

I wondered if she had read my mind when I was standing in front of the mirror admiring myself.

"Well, I have to say you girls are looking something special. Special fetish requests from the punters?" I enquired.

"Well no Michele; there are no more punters tonight; we're closed for business." Carmel responded lighting yet another menthol cigarette and blowing a cloud of blue smoke towards me.

"Thank fuck for that," I breathed with a sigh of relief.

"Now I can get out of these stupid fucking women's clothes and get back to my own cell!" I said, relived that the evening had come to an end.

Carmel and Charlotte stepped into my workroom cell, silently closed the door, and leaned back menacingly against the bars,

"Oh no Michele, you don't understand! We've finished with punters tonight, but WE haven't finished with you!!!"

 

To be continued……………………………………………….

  

  

  

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