Lady In The House Ch. 08
Keywords: The, 08, House, Ch., Lady, In,
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"You!!!" Eddie screamed through the bars, then laughed.
"Well done girls, quite a show, I really enjoyed that; and so did Michele obviously," he said snickering and pointing at the tent in the front of my skirt caused by the bulge of my slowly diminishing erection.
"Ok fun's over; now get the fuck out of here while Mabel cleans the joint up for tomorrow night, I expect you will be a lot busier tomorrow Michele, once the word gets around that my newest girl is available to all customers."
"I expect you'll be very busy indeed," Eddie's laughter faded as he disappeared down the corridor between the cells.
I cringed at the thought of another night in this caged prison brothel, forced to service some of the roughest men I had ever met. At the same time I was feeling confused as to how quickly I had acquired female mannerisms; how I had become aroused by wearing the lingerie, makeup, wigs, and heels that Eddie forced me to wear. I was also amazed at how, after only a brief introduction, I was developing the skills of the feminine art in applying makeup.
I was more disturbed however, by how I had responded to the sexual attentions of some of the punters and the ministrations of my crossdressed sisters. I could not deny that, despite the fact that during this torrid night I had been repeatedly orally and anally raped, I had experienced two of the most intense orgasms of my life this evening. I decided that I was just too dog-tired to think about it; I needed to sleep. I was even too tired to be angry with Charlotte and Carmel, who although they had obviously enjoyed the sexual encounter we had just experienced together, had obviously been put up to it by Eddie so that he could enjoy the 'all girl' show.
The two vixens in question, (who had just introduced me to my first transvestite lesbian experience), slunk out of my workroom cell. They both glanced back and blew me a kiss.
"Nightie-night sweetie," they giggled in chorus, the sound of their laughter and the clattering of their high heels diminishing as they moved on down the corridor.
Mabel came in and dumped my prison fatigues on the bed and pointed to the door with the words,
"Out! Shower. Get changed!"
I got the message and slipped out of my feminine attire and deposited it in the laundry bin in the corner of the cell. My heels and breast-forms went inside the large wardrobe. I removed my wig and put it on a vacant wig-stand then took the towel Mabel proffered, cinched it around my waist, and headed once again down the passageway between the cells carrying my fatigues to the shower block.
The overhead lights suddenly clattered on revealing the workroom cells on either side of the passageway. Through the open bars I stared at the oversized double beds, rumpled satin sheets, large armoires and dressers with makeup mirrors, totally incongruous in this disused prison wing. The workroom cells were like islands of perfumed femininity amid a sea of stink created by caged men.
Mabel poked her head out of my cell and barked orders to a couple of prisoners who I recognised as weaker individuals who had 'no muscle' and therefore had shitty jobs working in the prison laundry. They were stripping the beds and dumping sheets and pillowcases into large wheeled washing carts. They were also emptying the laundry bins from each cell into individual oversized prison laundry bags; I noticed the laundry bags were each labelled with the cell numbers and the feminine names of the 'working girl' that used each cell. As I passed one of the laundry hands I saw him bring a pair of soiled panties to his face and rub the bulge in the front of his denim jeans. I scurried past disgusted.
The laundry was a big money maker for the prison. It catered for the needs of the prisoners, the guards, and also took in work from nearby hotels and a hospital. Eddie controlled the prison laundry, as he did just about everything in Chelmsford prison. Obviously also had the laundry workers working overnight to wash and dry the bedclothes and clothing that belonged to his 'working girls'. To make his prison prostitution operation work he must also have the laundry dry cleaning service clean the 'girls' skirts, blouses, jackets and other items of clothing.
The cleaning of feminine clothing had to be being done overnight as I had made many trips to the prison laundry during the day whilst working as Eddies accountant and I had never seen any items of female attire in there. I knew Eddie made a considerable amount of money from the laundry; and of course, he was paying off someone high in the prison authority so that he could run the laundry business. As his accountant I knew he would also be charging the 'girls' for the laundry service; Eddie made money off everything, he gave nothing away.
When I got to the shower block I ran the water as hot as I could get it and soaked myself for half an hour in the shower trying to wash away the shame and humiliation of the last few hours. I scrubbed my face repeatedly to remove the caked on makeup. The blush, lipstick and eye shadow came off easily but I had to scrub at my face continually with the washcloth until it came away bearing no traces of foundation or mascara. I poured nail polish remover onto a cloth and cleaned the red nail polish from my fingernails.
I moved to the mirror and was glad to see that I looked like a man again; but then I noticed that some mascara was still clumped here and there on my eyelashes and little clots of eyeliner were smudged in the corners of my eyes. I picked up a bottle of moisturising cleanser from the shelf under the sink and removed the last traces of 'Michele' from my body.
I winced as I pulled on my denim prison uniform fatigues and felt the scratch of stiff cotton on my body instead of the luxurious feel of satin, silk and nylon. 'Stop it!' I told myself as I found myself wishing I could exchange the scratchy denim and cotton work-wear for the soft feel of feminine garments; 'this is how you are supposed to be dressed Mike; as a man!'
I made my way back to my accommodation cellblock without further incident. I was amazed to find my cell unlocked and unguarded. Fucking Eddie ran the whole prison I was sure if it! I let myself into the relative privacy of my own cell. With only a peephole in the door for the guard to look through instead of the open bars of the workroom cells in E Block it was as private as one could get in prison. As my head hit the pillow my mind was spinning with what had happened to me, how drastically my life had changed in one day. The last thing I noticed through teary eyes before I fell into a deep sleep was the clock on the wall ticking over to 2:30am.
I awoke the next morning and looked straight at the clock; it was 9:30am. Eddie must have arranged it with the guard on my wing to let me sleep in. I was tired and sore from the events of the previous evening and the early hours of this morning, I just couldn't believe what had happened to me. I seemed normal enough (or as normal as one could be when you are a guest in Chelmsford prison); just Mike. Mike brushing his teeth, Mike combing his hair, Mike changing into clean fatigues. Mike drinking coffee alone in the deserted cafeteria. There was no sign of Michele or her feminine ways; Christ I wished it were all just a bad dream!
I looked down at my hands holding the coffee cup and noticed that there were little crescents of red nail polish under the cuticles of some of my fingernails. "Fuck!!!" I exclaimed. Then I heard the voice I feared most; Eddie had snuck up on me and whispered in my ear,
"Come on Secretary you've got a lot of work to do. Just because I've found you some after-hours employment, doesn't mean you can neglect your day job," he snickered.
I followed him and took up my usual post working on Eddie's books as I had done every day for the last few months. I couldn't bear to bring up with him the events of last night or even look him in the eye. What I did do though was to pay particular attention to those parts of Eddie's business that had now come to directly effect me. Because Mabel ran the books relating to the prostitution ring, I had never really paid them too much attention before, except to check the bottom line for profit against loss; today I paid them special attention.
A note for those of you who haven't read Part I of this story; you probably need to read it now to understand how Eddie's prison business works and how Mike/Michele ended up becoming Eddie's accountant and 'secretary'.
It was all there, the amount each punter paid Mabel for a 'session' with each 'girl' (there were various codes that I didn't really understand but as some sessions cost more than others, I could only deduce those punters wanted 'special services' and paid accordingly). Here was listed the earnings made by each of Eddie's transvestite hookers against the costs involved in running his secret prison brothel. Payments were listed to Mabel, the guards (although a lot of the guards seemed to take their payment in 'trade'), and the inmate 'minders' Eddie employed (I shuddered as I though about how 'Iron-bar Steve', his most vicious minder, had used me).
The costs of female attire, lingerie, cosmetics, perfumes, wigs, shoes and other accessories were carefully recorded against each girl's name and deducted from her earnings. It appeared that despite these costs, and even after Eddie had taken the larger part of the profit for himself, the girls still made a substantial amount of money. By prison terms they were rich; in fact they probably made more money than your average streetwalker did on the outside.
Then I looked up the ledger entries Mabel had made against me, 'Michele'; I was astounded at how much money Eddie had made from me last night, even though only a couple of my 'tricks' were paying customers. Then I looked in the debit column at how much money I owed Eddie; I was flabbergasted. I owed him thousands of dollars for the clothing and accessories he had purchased for me!
"What the fuck Eddie?" I turned around and shook the ledger book at him.
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Keywords: The, 08, House, Ch., Lady, In,