Lady In The House - Part XV free porn video

Lady in the House - Chapter XV By Michele Nylons After the warden left my cell my mind was racing. Why were they bringing my sister here to visit? How was I going to remove my makeup and nailpolish? What was I going to do about my semen-stained clothing? I heard the keys rattle in the lock of my cell door and Steve strolled in. "Well Michele it look's like you are starting to behave. The warden seemed happy with his little visit," he smiled mischievously at me. "Now we need to get you cleaned and dressed for Angie's visit so let's go." He opened his palm and gestured at my cell door. "What? Go out into the main prison? Dressed like this?" I cried. "Oh stop it you silly cunt; don't you think that every guy in the joint knows that you're one of my girls? Do you think any of them would dare touch my property without my permission?" he said. "Besides, except for those guys with loss of privileges, everyone else is at work or in the exercise yard so no one is going to see you anyway!" he finished. Steve got me to scoop up the makeup and accessories and put them in the tote bag that he bought to my cell this morning and then gripped my wrist and half dragged me out the cell. I clattered along on my high-heels behind him like a dog being dragged on a leash. As I exited the cell the prison guard who was holding open my cell door whistled at me. "Fuck off mate; you can't afford her. Come down to E Block tonight and I'll toss you something you can afford," Steve scowled. We passed row after row of empty cells. Down this end of F block the less privileged prisoners shared open-barred cells and I was starting to feel a little better knowing that the block was clear of prisoners and I wouldn't be seen dressed as a woman. I was being too optimistic as it turned out. I heard a hiss from a darkened cell. "Steve! Steve! Whatcha got there mate?" Steve stopped and went over towards a darkened cell. "Fuck me, if it ain't Bobby McTavish? What the fuck you doing in there Bob, why ain't you out in the yard with the boys?" he asked. "Ah I fucked up at work the other day and punched some slimy fucking guard. They kicked me out of my private cell and threw me in this barred shithole and took away all my privileges. Lucky I didn't get solitary!" he griped. "Too bad man; it sucks to be you," Steve said sympathetically to the con behind the darkened cell bars. "Fuck she looks good Steve, how come you got her out here in general population during the day? They renovating E Block or something?" Bobby laughed. "Special job for a special client," Steve winked, "I'd let you have some but we're kind of in a rush." "Oh come on man; I'm fucking locked in here for the next three weeks; at least let me have a bit of a feel?" Bobby pleaded. These thugs were talking about me as if I was just a piece of Steve's property; to be used, given away or traded as he saw fit! The reality is; it was true! "Look Bobby; I am in hurry but I'll tell you what I'll do. You can have her against the bars for ten minutes while I cockatoo for you; then we're gone whether you've come or not ok?" Steve said. I couldn't believe what they were proposing. This ugly muscled thug could do what he liked to me through the bars of his cell whilst Steve kept a lookout! "Thanks Steve, I won't be long mate, I haven't had bit for ages," Bobby laughed and waved at me to approach the bars of his cell. Steve growled in my ear: "Ok girl, you know what to do. We ain't got all day so get him off quick!" and pushed me over to the barred cell. I set my resolve and pressed myself against the bars looking into the gloom of the cell. Bobby was a big man with hard muscles and strong wide shoulders. He was shirt-less and his heavily tattooed torso gleamed in the dark. He came up close to the bars of the cell and dropped his shorts. I reached out through the bars to take hold of his phallus and he knocked my hand away. "Oh no sugar; you touch my dick and I'll come in thirty seconds. I want my ten minutes worth," he smiled. He reached out through the bars and put one hand on my waist and the other behind my head and pulled me up against the bars. He bought his face to mine and kissed me. I kissed him back and our tongues entwined. His long hard cock was sticking through the bars and rubbing against my already stained pencil-skirt. I reached down and lifted the hem of my skirt so that his cock was enfolded in my satin slip and closed my stockinged legs on his penis. Bobby's cock was now locked between my legs, enshrouded in my slip and nylon stockings. He groaned in my mouth and kissed me harder as I slowly rocked back and forth on my high-heels, masturbating him with my sheer nyloned legs. This was easy! This con had been without sex for so long that he was putty in my hands; or in this case legs. Bobby slid his hand down my waist and onto my buttocks and held my groin hard against the barred cell as he rocked back and forth in time with me, sliding his hard hot member between by thighs. He kissed me passionately his tongue exploring my mouth between groans of pleasure. Suddenly he pulled my body hard up against the bars and shuddered and grunted and I felt a hot stream of viscous liquid saturate my stocking tops. Bobby bucked and humped at my legs as he grunted and groaned until he was sated. When he had finished climaxing, he took a handful of my black satin slip and wiped his slowly deflating cock on it. His spend left silver trails on the black satin. He sighed and pushed me away from the bars. "Fucking not bad Steve, when I get off loss of privileges I'm coming down to E block to get better acquainted with this one," Bobby said. "What's your name honey?" he asked. "Michele," I replied demurely pulling down the hem and straightening my skirt. "Well Bobby is going to spend some time with you as soon as he can honey," he looked over at Steve. "Thanks mate; see you later hey?" "No worries Bobby, hang in there pal," Steve replied and grabbed my wrist again. "Come on Michele; get a fucking wriggle on, we got a schedule to keep if you want to look nice for Angie," he grinned and carried on dragging me down the lower corridor of F block. I felt Bobby's semen cooling and trickling down my stockings. But more troubling for me was that I could feel my semi-erect penis pushing uncomfortably at the front panel of my nylon panties. What was I becoming? Was I was reverting back to the Michele Nylons; prison whore? Eventually we came to the door that led out of F block to E block. E block looked dilapidated and unused in the pale mid-morning light; fenced in, the ?No Entry - Condemned' sign over the gate gave the place a felling of foreboding. "We're getting the old tunnel between F and E blocks opened up again Michele so as the punters won't have such a hard time getting to the brothel," Steve said as he pulled me across the deserted forecourt the block. "Sort of like I had your old tunnel opened up," he laughed viciously. "But seriously; now that the work gangs have completed renovating the workrooms, bathroom and reception, we can start doing some real business. The Governor insists on complete secrecy so we needed to get the old tunnel that Eddie built reopened," he explained. I knew Steve's plan now. Not only was he going to reopen his old boss, Eddie McManus' brothel, but he and the Warden would have any outsider think that E block was just a condemned rotting hulk, whilst inside parts of it had been renovated and converted to a brothel for the inmates and guards. "This is the last time you'll come to E block through the front door Michele; but don't worry you'll be spending lots of time here," he sniggered and slammed the main door to block shut behind us. E Block was still as dark, cold, damp and deadly quiet as it was when I came here a couple of days ago. Eddie led me past the old disused cafeteria where the rusty tools, forgotten by time, still lay in a pile. We continued down to the part of the block that constituted the brothel. Steve opened a dirty, grime encrusted door and I was amazed at the sight that greeted me. Steve and his guys had been busy! The door opened into a carpeted elegantly furnished exquisitely wallpapered reception room. The room was finished in colours of cerise and gold and was the antithesis of the rest of the block. A receptionist's desk was positioned adjacent to the entry; and to one side of the desk a gold trimmed door was let into the wall; a door that I knew led to the workrooms. Carmel was sitting at the desk going over some paperwork. She was wearing a bone suit, the hem of the skirt just above her knees, a cerulean silk blouse, taupe hosiery and white high-heeled pumps. She was heavily madeup and wore a blonde wig, styled high on her head. Gold jewellery glittered in her ears, at her throat and on her fingers. The Madame of the house was in attendance. "Carmel! Get Michele cleaned and dressed ready for the visit. Have her ready by three o'clock!" Steve ordered and left the room. Carmel and I both glanced at the ornate wall-clock; it read 1:37pm. "Come on Michele, we don't have much time and Steve has left me with strict instructions on how you are to be prepared," Carmel said and took my wrist and led me over to the gold trimmed door. Again I was being spoken about as if I was piece of property, which I guess I had now resigned myself to be true. I was Steve's transvestite whore; to be used, traded and abused as he saw fit. The only thing I could do was to minimise any pain to my sister and myself. "Ok Carmel; let's go and get ready then," I said snatching my hand free and walking through the door to the passageway that led down the centre of the workrooms. The boys had been busy in here too and the smell of fresh paint still hung in the air. Twelve cells had had the walls of the adjacent cell knocked out so that there were now six barred workrooms; three cells on each side of the room facing each other. Each cell had been freshly painted in colours of deep red, gold and black. The oversize cots had been replaced with queen-size beds made up with satin sheets, comforters and piled high with pillows to match the d?cor. Each workroom had a large wardrobe and dressing table fitted against one wall. Large well-lighted cosmetics mirrors were fitted over the dressing tables and well-padded elegant stools were provided to sit comfortably at the dressing tables. The floors were carpeted to match the d?cor and the lighting was subtle and discrete. Each room also had a small sink and vanity. There would be no doubt to any first time visitor what these rooms were to be used for. The cell walls of the workrooms opened on to the corridor that ran down the centre of the room, the bars on the cells were painted flat black; and maroon coloured heavy silk curtains were pulled back from the barred walls, ready to be closed when privacy was required. The curtains provided privacy, but the muffled sounds of copulation would still resonate through the workrooms. It was designed that way of course; everything here was designed so that the punters could forget their cold hard vicious prison lives and emerge themselves in a fantasy world of debauchery. The irony was that fa?ade of the workrooms was as false as the fa?ade of the girls that worked in them. The girls were men! Transvestite prostitutes; some of them who worked for the money even liked what they did and others like me were blackmailed and bullied into servitude. "Steve's been spending some money Carmel," I said, "How many girls has he got on the books now?" During my last stretch in Chelmsford Prison I had been Eddie McManus's accountant and bookkeeper so I knew the background to Steve's empire which he had inherited when Eddie passed on. The new Governor had given Steve the approval to reopen the brothel, which had done a roaring trade when Eddie ran Chelmsford. Steve was obviously determined to make the most of his investment. "We've got eight including you Michele and Steve's got his eye on a new kid in B Block who he thinks might be a poofter so hopefully the kid won't take to much persuading," Carmel replied. "Remember chubby old Charlotte? She's back inside again and she was one of the first girls we recruited. She's still chubby and we're all getting older hun; but she still pulls the punters." "Old Mabel who used to clean up and look after the wardrobes and cosmetics has passed on; but I've got an old noncer who likes to crossdress. She'd be no good as a working girl but she's taken on Mabel's old job and she does a few freebies in her cell on the block." "Steve tolerates it because he pays her fuck all," she laughed. "Yep, Steve has put a lot of money into renovating this place over the last couple of days. He got all the gear bought two days ago and the work gangs worked non-stop to get it finished." "Now he's looking for a return on his investment and the tunnel between E and F block will be reopened tonight so we're going to be busy," she finished. We reached the other end of the passageway and Carmel opened the door. The bathroom had been renovated too. The place gleamed with new white tiles, sinks and showers. A row of toilets ran along one wall, and ten lockers with ten large laundry hampers beside them ran along the other wall. Each locker and hamper had a nameplate on it. Mine was third along, next to Charlotte's. "You know the deal honey. Steve fronts your clothes, lingerie, shoes, cosmetics and so forth and when you've paid for the initial issue, you get to order what you like on the tick and then you pay that off." Carmel explained. "Regardless, Steve takes half of what you make up front. You never see the money. I handle all the cash and records and give them to Steve's accountant." "I know how the scam works Carmel. I used to be the accountant!" I spat at her. "Well honey; you're just a working girl now like the rest of us. Steve don't need any more accountants," she replied sarcastically. "Sorry Carmel, I shouldn't take it out on you," I apologised. "It's just that I'm so nervous about having to face my sister this afternoon. I know Steve's forcing me to see her while I'm dressed is his way enforcing my services but he must realise that I'm broken by now?" I started to cry. "Look honey; that bastard told me what he had Danny do to your sister. He's a fucking evil cunt but while we're here in fucking Chelmsford he owns us. Just get the visit over with and get on with your life," she said. "I know it sounds trite; but we just have to make the most of it." She finished. "At least I have my own locker and clothes hamper; that's an improvement on the last time I worked here," I smiled wanly. I went over to locker, kicked off my heels and shrugged myself out of my semen stained clothing and put my wig on a wig-stand beside my locker. I wrapped a bath-towel around my naked body. I looked in the mirror amused at the makeup-smeared man who stared back at me. "Joan will take care of your clothes and shoes and brush out your wig and then return them back to your workroom. Your prison fatigues are hanging in the locker for later," Carmel said as she sat on a bench and lit a cigarette. I walked over and took a drag off Carmel's cigarette, smiling again at my painted fingernails. "Joan?" I asked. "She's the noncer that I've got doing Mabel's old job. I call her the room attendant and she seems to like the title," Carmel replied an amused look on her face. "Come on Michele; we ain't got long," Carmel appealed to me, "you know the drill girl, so get on with it!" I used one of the toilet stalls and evacuated my bowels. It was bad enough knowing that I was going to be repeatedly taken anally, without suffering the embarrassment of being dirty down there when it happened. I brushed my teeth and used mouthwash. I shaved closely again and took a long hot shower; scrubbing at my face to remove the makeup. Each of the shower stalls was fitted with an enema kit and a large container of lubricant fitted with a disposable applicator. I used the enema kit and when I was thoroughly clean down there I generously lubricated myself internally. I smiled grimly to myself as I thought back to the notion I had in the reception room about minimising pain to myself. I dried off and went over to my locker and put on the satin robe and slippers that had been provided for me. "I feel silly. A mature naked man wearing a woman's robe and slippers walking around with polished fingernails," I said to Carmel. "Well we know how to fix that don't we sugar; lets go and get you madeup and dressed," she smiled and patted me on the bum. "You getting cheeky with me?" I laughed. "I remember when me and Charlotte got more than a little cheeky with you honey last time you were here; I'm still up for the odd transbian interlude if you're lucky," she smiled back at me and winked seductively. "Now get a fucking move on!" she smacked my arse and led me back into the workrooms. "Here we are honey; you know how Steve likes your makeup and he want's you in the brunette bob and the charcoal grey suit there," she pointed to a ladies business suit hanging up on the outside the robe. "Shoes are next to bed and I laid out your lingerie. Steve was very particular about what you are to wear so please don't fuck about," she whined. "Well whatever Steve wants; Steve gets," I said sarcastically. "You know that girl," Carmel said and wandered out of my workroom, her high-heels clacking on the newly tiled passageway floor. I sat in front of the makeup mirror, my cosmetics were neatly arranged on the dressing table. There was quite an assortment and most of them were brand new; still in their wrappers, but I recognised the cosmetics that Steve had bought to my cell that I had used this morning. Someone had put them back in my workroom. Just as well as I now had to pay for all of my own cosmetics. A pair of breastforms was arranged on a tray along with the medical adhesive tape to affix them. I carefully affixed them in place. It had been a long time since I had done this so I took my time smoking a cigarette as I did it. I butted out my cigarette and touched up my fingernail polish and decided I had time to do my toenails as well. I applied a heavy layer of foundation on my face and set it with face powder. I rouged my cheeks and applied plenty of black eyeliner and heavy mascara. I carefully applied the same aqua and pink eyeshadow that I had used this morning and applied the same Raging Ruby Max Factor, Lasting Colour Lipstick. I gave my face a fine dusting of finishing powder, being careful to keep it off my mascara. I selected the brown bob from the assortment of wigs sitting on their stands inside my wardrobe. There was also a small selection of skirts, blouses suits and costumes hanging up in the wardrobe as well as four pairs of high heels. I knew that the drawers would be packed with lingerie. I didn't have time to look at everything in the wardrobe; and more importantly I knew how I was going to have to pay for it all. I brushed the brunette bob, admiring the subtle gold streaks that had been dyed into it. I set the wig on my head and adjusted it. The fringe came to my brows and the mane sat lightly on my shoulders. I walked over to the bed and looked at the lingerie that Carmel had laid out for me. I stepped into a white lace suspender belt fitted with three garter straps for each leg. I then squeezed into a matching white lace brassiere. I sat down on the bed, noting how soft and comfortable it felt and slipped a pair of taupe nylon stockings up my legs and adjusted the back-seams so they were straight, and fixed the darker welts of the nylons to my suspender straps. My red painted toenails were visible through the sandal-toe-reinforced stockings. I pulled a pair of white satin full-cut panties up my legs and smoothed them around my buttocks and over the suspender belt and then stepped into a very small white satin half-slip. My penis was becoming erect because of the scintillating feel of satin and nylon on my body. I reached down and adjusted it and concentrated on finishing getting dressed. I took the charcoal grey suit from the robe and laid it out on the bed. I stepped into the skirt; it had a pleated front and side vent. It looked both professional and sexy, but as the hem only just covered my stocking- tops it couldn't really pass as a business suit. I buttoned myself into a white, long-sleeved, blouse and tucked it into the waistband of my skirt and closed the zipper on the side. I adjusted the waistband of my skirt and pulled the hem down over the hem of my slip. The skirt was tight and the hem sat high up on my thighs. I picked up the black high-heeled sandals, sat back down on the bed and stepped into them, fastening the ankle straps. Standing up I went back to the dressing table and opened the drawers until I found a small collection of jewellery. The jewellery that I had worn this morning was part of the collection and would accessorise my outfit perfectly. I slipped the gold anklet on my right ankle and adjusting it so it fell below the strap and buckle of my high-heeled sandal. I clipped on the gold drop earrings and put the gold ladies watch and gold bangles on my wrists and the gold chain necklace around my neck. Finally I gave my face another dusting of finishing powder and put another coat of lipstick on my lips. I sprayed my favourite perfume ?Poison' on my decolletage and another modest spray under my skirt, a trick Carmel had taught me all those years ago in this very place. I picked up the suit jacket off the bed and put it on and walked back to the mirror to make any final adjustments. Once again Steve had dressed me so that I looked like a businesswoman or high-class secretary who had the dress sense of a trollop. My skirt was too short and tight and the side vent showed bare thigh so the outfit was actually a parody of business suit. Sophisticated but slutty; if that was possible. I was again reminded how much I was dressed to look like my sister Angie, this time even the brunette bob matched her hairstyle. I looked at my watch: 2:52pm. I heard the clatter of heels on the tiles again and Carmel reappeared with Steve trailing along. "Perfect!" they both said at once, Carmel smiling and Steve with his familiar evil grin. "Ok Michele we're going over to the conjugal visits section of the visiting unit," Steve said. "We need the privacy of a conjugal room; even I can't get away with parading you openly around the rest of the prison dressed like that," he said. The conjugal visit section was provided for inmates who had conjugal rights; usually those who had committed lesser crimes or were coming to the end of their sentences and were being rehabilitated. It was located inside the visiting unit adjacent to G block; the minimum security section where I had been housed until recently. "How are you going to get me to the conjugal section?" I asked, worried about being dragged around Chelmsford Prison dressed as a woman. "Well honey; you're going to love this; the Warden is going to escort you!" Steve laughed. I was stunned! How were they going to pull this off? But that's exactly what happened. Steve took me to the entrance to E Block where the Governor was waiting. He escorted me to the conjugal section of the visiting unit. The Governor remained closed mouth during most of the journey only speaking to explain to me that the cover story was that I was a member of the Prisons Board conducting a routine inspection. He made sure that we took a circuitous route that kept us out of the eyes of most of the prison so that we were really only visible from a distance. From a reasonable distance it would look like the Warden was escorting a businesswoman with poor dress sense around the prison. When we arrived at the visiting unit I was handed off to a prison officer who was obviously in on the scam as he was to lead me into a private room in the conjugal section. "Enjoy your visit," the Warden offered cynically as he handed me over. The conjugal section was actually just a freestanding prefabricated demountable divided into four rooms. The guard led me to one of the four private rooms assigned for conjugal visits. The rooms were austere but fitted out for their intended purpose with a table, two chairs and a double bed. A small shower and toilet unit was also provided in each of the rooms. Although private and unable to be monitored by the prison authorities by law, the prison joke was that if you stood outside and listened hard enough you could hear the prisoners humping their wives. It was rumoured that the guards kept score on which of the inmate's wives gave the best performances. I sat on the hard seat at the cheap Formica table, adjusting my skirt trying to reveal as little as possible with little success. Now I was shivering with shame and regret knowing that soon my sister was going to see me dressed this way and having to explain to her that I was responsible for the vicious attack that she had suffered in the hands of Steve's henchman Danny. When the door opened I jumped and to my surprise Steve stepped into the room. I looked at him startled. "Oh yes Michele I'm going to be here for the visit. I want to make sure you tell Angie everything. I also want to give you both a final warning," he said, sitting down across the table from me. Then the door opened again and again I jumped. This time Angie stepped into room and I was absolutely gob-smacked! Not only was she dressed identically to me; she was in the company of Danny! He closed and locked the door and led Angie over to the bed where she sat with a stunned look on her face. She looked like she was in a trance. Danny sat on the bed opposite Angie and suddenly the room felt very crowded. "Let me begin proceedings," Steve said. "I've had Danny escort Angie here today after making her an offer she couldn't refuse, so to speak." "She was provided with her outfit today courtesy of me, and we've had special arrangements made with the prison authorities to get her in here with Davey as her chaperone." "Angie here has had the situation explained to her in some detail," he continued. "She knows what you're dealing with Mike, and she knows what will happen to her should you not comply with the terms that I have placed upon your future existence here in Chelmsford Prison." "She got a taste of that from Danny the other day and she also knows that should she attempt to go to the authorities or try to run away that she, or even worse her daughter, will receive more of the same. She also knows that you will also be made to suffer further," he summarised the situation. "Now Angie, you can see the position that Mike here is in. A picture paints a thousand words; and there is nothing better than seeing the living proof is there?" he finished. "I can't believe that's my brother Mike sitting there," she said, "he looks more like my sister than my brother!" "Well perhaps to avoid confusion we will just refer to Mike as Michele from now on. Is that ok with you Michele?" he asked defiantly. I nodded my head compliantly. "Ok Michele; this is your chance to tell Angie all about your life in Chelmsford. Tell her about your first prison term here, what happened to you and how you survived; and then tell her about the recent stretch," Steve ordered. And I did. I looked into my sister's heavily madeup eyes with my own and told her the whole sordid tale. I explained to her about how during my first term in Chelmsford I became the accountant and confidant of Eddie McManus who had me transformed into Michele, a transvestite prostitute who was forced to service other inmates and prison officials and kick up my earnings to Eddie. I told her of how an inmate named had Davey ?rescued' me from Eddie's clutches and how he kept me as his willing concubine for the remainder of my prison term. I explained that living in servitude as the transvestite ?wife' of a prison inmate to escape constant violation by prison thugs was my path of least resistance and pain. I also admitted that by then I had been brainwashed into accepting my life as a transvestite and was a willing participant and even enjoyed my role as a woman. Then I explained that for the ten years following my release I saw a psychiatrist who convinced me that I suffered ?Stockholm Syndrome' and that I had taken the only course of action open to me at the time. My psychiatrist and I worked together trying to mend the effects of the abuse, both physical and mental, that I had undergone during my prison term. We agreed that I had succumbed to the world of transvestism as a means of survival whilst I was in prison. He convinced me that I was in fact a heterosexual male forced to do what I did only because I had no choice. I then went on to explain to her what had happened to me during this period of incarceration after I was transferred to F Block. I also explained honestly that although I was revolted by what I am now being forced to do, I know that it is the only way for me to survive the rest of my sentence. I also admitted that recently I was getting sexual gratification from dressing as Michele; that I was becoming the same person who had previously succumbed to a life of enforced transvestism in Chelmsford Prison. Angie listened to the whole story without interruption. Occasionally I would see a look of surprise or sympathy on her face; but she remained silent until I finished my story. "So you see Angie, Michele here has agreed to work for me in my little enterprise and Danny here will be keeping tabs on you every now and again on the outside to make sure that you keep your end of the bargain," Steve said. "Ok, I know what I have to do to keep us both safe. Although until I saw Mike, err Michele here today I hardly thought the story Danny had told me was possible," Angie said incredulously. "Oh its possible Angie; and just to prove to you how possible it is, as a final demonstration, Michele is going to provide Danny here with his conjugal rights!" he sniggered. I was dumbfounded and shocked. "No Steve please! Please spare me the humiliation!" I begged. "Well sugar you both agreed to the deal, and Danny needs to get a conjugal visit; otherwise he would be here in the prison under false circumstances," Steve joked evilly. "It's either you or Angie, Michele. You decide!" he demanded. I looked into the shocked face of my sister and knew what I had to do. I stood up and kicked back my chair. "Well come on honey," I flicked a long red painted fingernail at Danny beckoning him to me. Angie looked astounded and stood up herself and yelled, " Mike don't do it; please don't do it!" "Shut up and sit down Angie," I commanded, "let me do my job!" Angie sat down on the bed staring incredulously at me. Danny stood and walked over to me and I took in him my arms and kissed him. I drove my tongue into his mouth and lifted my leg and wrapped it around him, rubbing my nyloned calf against his thigh. Danny's hand stroked my thigh, high up where the reinforced welt of my stocking gave way to bare skin. "Oh my god!" Angie gasped, "I can't believe you're doing this!" I ignored her and concentrated on kissing Danny deeply and passionately. I felt him harden in his trousers and he pressed his erection against my body and pulled me closer returning my kisses. "See Angie; Michele knows what she's doing; she's a natural," Steve whispered. "I just find it hard to believe that is my brother kissing the arsehole that raped me," Angie said. "I hate to say it, but dressed like that, Michele looks so much like me, that it's almost like watching me kiss him." "I can let you do that if you wish," Steve smirked at Angie and she pulled a face at him and turned back to watch me. I slid my hand down to Danny's flies and I unzipped him and slipped my fingers inside. His cock was hard and warm to my touch and I slid my fingers along the sleek shaft and felt it begin to throb, and Danny groaned. Danny pulled his face away from me and gently pushed down on my shoulders. I knew what he wanted and I slowly dropped to my knees, kissing his neck and chest on the way down. When I was on my knees before him I opened his belt buckle and pulled down his jeans until they puddled around his feet. Danny's cock stuck up proudly above the waistband of his jockey shorts, the shaft was thick and veiny, the glans swollen and purple. "Oh my," Angie gasped. I pulled down Danny's jockey shorts and slowly stroked his thickening erection; his glans disappeared and reappeared between my fingers as I caressed it, my painted fingernails contrasting with the smooth pale skin of his shaft. "Oh my," Angie gasped again, and this time, there was no doubt by her throaty groan, that she was becoming aroused. I bought Danny's phallus to my lips and kissed his swollen purple glans, my lipsticked lips sucking up the little beads of clear pre-seminal fluid that formed on the eye of his member. "Well I never!" Angie groaned. "I bet you have!" Steve laughed and I heard the unmistakable sound of a fly being unzipped. I looked sideways and saw that Steve was standing in front of Angie with his erect penis wobbling in front of her face. I opened my mouth and took Danny's glans inside my hot wet mouth and licked at the swollen flesh. I gripped his thighs and slowly started rocking back and forth on my knees and heels as I fellated him. "Oh Michele; you are naughty!" Angie said, and absent-mindedly reached out and took Steve's hard penis in her hand. I licked at the bulbous flesh of Danny's cock, slaving at it with my tongue whilst my lips slid up and down his shaft. With a free hand I stroked his testicular sac and with the other hand I stroked the shank of his penis as it slid in and out of my lipsticked lips. I heard Danny whimper in pleasure as he thrust his groin forward and back in rhythm with my ministrations. "Oh my Michele; that is so very naughty," Angie whimpered and I looked over to see that her eyes were locked on me; watching intently as I provided Danny with oral pleasure. Her manicured, nailpolished fingers stroked Steve's cock with a slow sensual cadence whilst her other hand disappeared under her skirt and inside her knickers. My naughty sister was obviously not shy in committing herself to lechery when it suited her. "My god Michele; if you tell anyone about this I'll die," she said. The irony of her statement was not lost on all present. Here was a woman masturbating the man who forced her brother to become a transvestite prostitute and was currently fellating the man who had recently ravished his sister! The situation was only made more absurd because these acts were taking place inside Her Majesty's Prison Chelmsford! Steve, Danny and Angie all giggled at her outburst. "Never mind about that; Michele is hardly likely to tell anyone anything about herself. You just concentrate on what you have in your hand," Steve replied. Angie stroked Steve's throbbing penis with long slow strokes and concentrated on pleasuring herself with the same ardour. I continued to suck and slaver Danny's engorged phallus and stroke his scrotal sac. My own member was hard inside my panties; the feel of the sleek satin gusset against my cock sensuous and arousing. I decided to enjoy the sensation of my silken lingerie whilst I fellated the sleek hard member, but not to bring myself to orgasm. I knew I could easily achieve climax with a minimum of stimulation, but I was happy just to enjoy the sexual tension created by the current circumstances. It was obvious that both men were now close to coming; they were both groaning and panting and gyrating their hips in time with the women who were pleasuring them. I could see that Angie was also close; she had hiked up her skirt and I could see her fingers were busy inside her knickers. Danny put his hands on my head and pushed my face into his groin and I knew what was about to happen. I put my hands on his buttocks and pulled his groin hard against my face and swallowed as much of his cock that I could fit into my mouth and sucked at the base of it and slavered my tongue over the glans encouraging him to climax. He bucked against my face and my mouth suddenly filled with hot musky semen. His cock convulsed and more of his seed flooded my mouth as I swallowed stream after stream of ejaculate. I couldn't swallow fast enough and rivulets of warm spend seeped from my lips and dripped down my chin. I felt a gob of the sticky spunk drop on to my leg and soak into my stocking. My own cock throbbed in my panties begging for release. "Oh yeah suck it baby; swallow that come. Yeah suck me dry you dirty slut!" Danny moaned as he came. "Oh Michele you are a dirty slut; how could you? How could you?" Angie cried, but her entreaty was obviously a cry of passion as she reached her own climax. Her orgasm was intensified by the spectacle of the lovely transvestite fellating a man to climax right there in front of her. As Angie orgasmed she drummed her fingers against her mound inside her panties and at the same time she massaged Steve's member harder and harder, squeezing and caressing the organ in time with her own climatic convulsions. Steve groaned, "Oh yeah baby; milk that cock; wank that man-meat you bitch!" and the first stream of ejaculate shot out of his throbbing member spraying a thick rope of white semen across Angie's blouse and jacket. To my surprise Angie turned her face away from me and engulfed Steve's ejaculating member with her mouth and sucked on the tumescent organ until she drained it dry. She swallowed and gagged but didn't allow a drop of Steve's issue to escape her mouth while she stroked and fondled her own sex until both of them were sated. I gently eased Danny's slowly deflating penis from my mouth and Angie did the same with Steve's. Angie adjusted her panties and straitened her skirt; she was blushing and looking very abashed. Danny patted me on the head and jibed. "Good girl Michele. Steve you've got a keeper here mate," he said and then surprised me by helping me to my feet and gently kissing me on the cheek. "Good girl Angie," Steve said, mimicking Danny by patting her on the head and then helping her to her feet and kissing her cheek. "Now ladies, I can tell you are both embarrassed and probably more than a little surprised by what has just happened here and the way that you have just behaved." "But let's just keep this between all of us here. You both know the situation; what has just happened does nothing to change your respective predicaments. It's still business as usual," Steve went on. "Now I'm going to get you both out of here. Unfortunately there is no more time left for you two to visit but I promise you both that next visitors day I will organise a longer visit," he finished. I looked sheepishly at Angie and she looked back at me the same way. We were both really glad that we wouldn't have to talk about what had just happened until we had had time to think about the implications. "Bye Angie," I said and kissed her on the cheek. "Bye Michele," Angie said and kissed me back. Steve opened the door and passed me off to a prison guard, who escorted me over to E Block, again we maintained the ruse that I was visiting government official inspecting the gaol. It was only later that day when I though about what had happened that I realised that Angie had called me Michele and not Mike when we said goodbye. To be continued.............