Lady In The House Ch. 08

I stepped into the patent leather black high-heeled sandals, my painted toenails visible through the reinforced toes of my stockings, the pretty cuban heels accented by the ankle straps of the shoes. I bent down and fastened a silver anklet around my left ankle; the chain sparkling as the light reflected off it accentuating the miniature rhinestones on my sleek hosed calves.

I stood up and unzipped the suit-bag. Inside was a navy blue suit and sheer white nylon blouse. I slipped into the blouse, the cool feel of the nylon sleeves sliding up my arms, the light material whispering against the full slip as I buttoned the garment. I stepped into the skirt; it was snug at the waist and tight around my hips and bottom, the hem coming to just above my knees. I pulled on the wide lapelled jacket and my transformation was complete.

I looked in the mirror stepping back so I could see as much of my reflection as possible. I was no longer Mike, the weak willed accountant; I was Michele, a power dressed executive; a 'fem fatale' in a business suit. I sprayed liberal amounts of perfume on my neck, behind my ears and then as Carmel had showed me, under my skirt.

I was about to sit down when my cell door slammed open. 'Iron Bar' Steve stood there in the company of one of the guards.

"Oh fuck me Steve she's fucking gorgeous; I'd love to shag her bent over the bunk dressed just like that!" the dimwitted guard exclaimed.

"Fuck off stupid, you couldn't afford a fucking hand job off her, she's out of your league," Steve responded.

'How chivalrous,' I thought to myself, 'A brain-dead thug defending the honour of a crossdressed inmate prostitute to a corrupt prison guard!' I couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation.

"Oh you won't be smiling for long honey," laughed Steve, "Eddie's special friend doesn't like jokes from fag inmates one little bit."

"Who are you calling a fag Stevie? You couldn't get enough of me last night could you?" I clipped sarcastically.

Steve raised his hand but I stood defiantly in the doorway of the cell. I knew that Steve dare not touch me at the moment as I was all prettied up for some special punter. It was good to actually feel a slight empowerment for once. I sashayed though the cell door deliberately taunting Steve but I paid the price as I passed him; he reached out and squeezed my pantied buttocks through my skirt.

"Don't touch the merchandise Steve," I taunted again, turning my pretty face to his and pouting at him.

"Oh don't worry Michele, I'm just here to escort you to your special date, but you will be well used merchandise when you return," he laughed.

I looked around the cellblock and noticed it was empty. All of the prisoners were at work of course, but I couldn't see any guards either, other than the dimwit who had unlocked my cell and was now making his way back to the guard's office at the end of the block.

"Oh don't worry honey, you're getting the red carpet treatment, no one is going to see where your going except for a select few in the know," Steve said, tapping the side of nose..

Steve led me through a series of doors and deserted corridors. I never saw another soul; the doors opened electronically when Steve swiped a keycard though each of the card reading devices fitted next to the door-locks. 'Who the fuck is Eddie's special friend?' I thought, 'He must have some clout to be able have a crossdressed prisoner led halfway through the jail without anyone seeing it happening.' 'And who the fuck gives prisoners like this maniac escorting me the keys to the jail; this was just fucking insane!'

We finally arrived at a set of fire stairs, the door to which Steve opened with a swipe of his card. He led me up three flights of stairs, me tottering on the high-heels I was still unaccustomed to wearing. He opened the door at the top of the last flight and held me back as he scanned the corridor for a few seconds.

"Ok, quickly now," he said grabbing my wrist and pulling me into the corridor behind him.

"This is his private entrance; I'll pick you up from here in hour. Behave ok!" Steve whispered in my ear, kissed me gently on the earlobe, and pushed me through an unlocked wood paneled door and slammed it shut behind me.

I half fell through the door and as I glanced up I could just make out the name embossed on the door; in faded gold leaf lettering it said WARDEN.

Warden Stone was a large man and as I fell though the door he caught me in his strong arms.

"You must be Michele," he smiled, gazing directly into my eyes.

"Here take a seat," he insisted leading me to a large leather divan set against one wall of the large office.

I was mesmerised; I knew that things were obviously way out of the ordinary in this fucked up jail. What with Eddie running every legal and illegal activity he could, including a lucrative brothel staffed by crossdressed feminised prisoners, corrupt guards and inmates running around with the keys to the doors; it was just farcical. The lunatics were literally running the asylum. But this! The Governor admitting a crossdressed prostitute, delivered by a messenger from the hardest criminal in the jail, into his private office; this was beyond comprehension!

But then again; in some fucked up way it made sense. How could Eddie possibly get away with what he did in here without the blessing of the Governor. In fact it made even more sense as I quickly caught on to the enormity of the situation; this was where Eddie's largest payments went to; the Warden, they were obviously partners. The Warden ran the jail but Eddie ran everything inside the jail and the Governor got his cut; including the fringe benefit of access to Eddie's working girls whenever he wanted. How else could all this be explained?

At the same instant another lightning bolt struck me; I was now with most powerful man in Chelmsford prison, if anyone could get me a transfer out of here it was him! I decided right then and there that I was going to be very nice to the Governor; no matter how disgusting his needs were, I was going to tend to every one of them willingly. After all, this could be my only shot at getting out of this nightmare. 'So Mr Stone,' I thought to myself 'You're about to have the wickedest hour you ever spent with one of Eddie's whores!' I mustered my resolve and made my move.

"Why thank you Warden Stone," I offered him by biggest smile and sat down, crossing my legs in a ladylike fashion so that the hem of my skirt rode up to mid thigh.

I noticed his eyes open wide and heard a sharp intake of breath as he heard the soft rasp of my nylons rubbing together and stared at my thighs encased in their gauzy nylon sheaths.

"Stanley please," he smiled back.

"And you are Michele I'm told," he went on.

"Well Michele let me paint a picture for you; I'm sure you are not naïve and understand why you are here. But there is no need for this to be unpleasant for you; I assure you that I can behave like a gentleman, and this scant hour we have together can be a welcome break for you from the filth and depravity you experience very day in my prison."

"So Michele, shall we spend a nice relaxing hour together?" he asked expectantly.

"Why Warden, I mean Stanley; if you are the gentlemen you already appear to be I'm sure I can behave like the lady you want me to be. Perhaps we can even accommodate each other in other ways if you would like to discuss a proposal I have for you?" I responded maintaining my painted smile.

Warden Stone's face clouded over at my proposal; I had gone too far too early; I went into damage control.

"But of course that's for later, please sit with me," I patted the leather couch next to me and batted my lashes like a good little coquette.

Stanley smiled again and managed to drag his gaze away from my legs to my eyes.

"Lovely, but please, allow me to get you a drink; scotch?"

"Please," I smiled back and he turned to an expensive looking oak cabinet to pour the drinks.

'I might as well make the most of this,' I though to myself as I glanced around the Warden's impressive office. As one would expect it held all the trappings of power; a large desk, chunky furniture, the wall adorned with certificates, trophies and pictures of the Warden with other powerful men. On his desk I noticed a picture of the Warden and his family. His wife appeared mousy and his daughter was a skinny teenager with dank hair; they were smiling painfully for a picture obviously posed to project family harmony. I wondered what his mousy wife would think if she knew that Stanley's peccadilloes ran to intimate encounters with crossdressed prison inmates?

Stanley returned to the large sofa, stopping off to turn out the overhead lights and check that the door to his outer office was locked and the shades lowered. He set the drinks down on side table and adjusted the one remaining lamp to a diffused glow. 'Very cosy,' I thought to myself; 'I bet his receptionist is on an errand for an hour or so.' I wondered how often he did this?

The Warden handed me my drink and indicated the vacant place beside me on the sofa,

"May I Michele?" he asked smiling.

"Of course Stanley," I smiled, again patting the seat beside me.

Stanley sat down heavily beside me and the cushion gave way under his weight so that I leant in towards him slightly, the golden liquid and my red fingernails glimmered in the diffused lamplight as I raised my glass to him.

"Cheers," I whispered and drank heavily from my glass.

"Cheers," he responded, downing the spirit in one huge gulp.

Stanley had to be over a hundred and thirty kilos and close to two meters tall; well proportioned but large; I noticed the beginnings of a paunch hanging over his belt as his suit jacket opened. 'Ok this is it,' I decided; 'lets get this façade over with!'

I reached out and took his empty glass from him and placed it on the side table beside mine, a crescent of lipstick decorated the rim of my glass.

I turned to face the Warden and reached out to him, gently taking his head in my hands, I pulled his face towards mine seductively opening my lips slightly. Stanley groaned and pressed his lips lightly against mine. He kissed me softly, with his mouth closed; then he reached out and put his strong arms around me and eased me against him as he smothered my face with feather soft kisses. He kissed me all over my face; my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, and placed little butterfly kisses on my lightly closed eyelids.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered in my ear, gently nuzzling my earlobe.

My hands were now on his powerful shoulders and we embraced each other for a few minutes; softly kissing each other, I felt the heat slowly growing in him as he became aroused.

I felt his hand slide down my body and come to rest on my knee; he softly massaged my leg, slowly working his hand higher, lightly stroking the inside of my stockinged thigh. His breath was becoming heavy now but he made no attempt to force himself on me; his mouth remained closed as he tenderly rained down soft kisses on my mouth and face.

I reached out with one hand and placed it on his thigh feeling the hard muscle through the material of his trousers; the back of my hand brushed briefly against his tumescent member; he gasped.

"Oh Michele; you naughty girl!" he whispered, his hand sliding under my skirt came into contact with my slip.

The Warden wrapped his hand in the silken material and began to slowly glide the slip up and down my thigh. The feeling of the delicate fabric rubbing on my pantyhose was exquisite; my member began to awaken in the silken gusset of my hose; my tight white panties holding it in place as it slowly thickened and elongated.

I moved my hand across the bulge growing in the Warden's trousers and found the zipper on his fly. He removed his hand from under my skirt and gently moved my hand away.

"No Michele, I want to taste all of your sweet treasures before we consummate our little interlude," he said and took hold of my upper arms in a tight grip.

'Quite the wordsmith,' I though to myself; 'I wonder what sweet treasures he intends to enjoy?'

Stanley kissed me fully on the lips, pressing his torso hard against me, slowly sliding his tongue into my mouth; I tasted my own lipstick on his tongue as he gently explored my mouth. Then he pulled his face away from mine and eased me back against the padded armrest of the divan. I guessed that now he would want more than just kisses and caresses and as he adjusted his position on the sofa I made to remove my suit jacket.

"Oh please no Michele; I want you dressed just as you are. I love a woman who can pull off the whole power-dress performance thing and still look feminine and sexy."

"Do you like the lingerie? I had Eddie acquire it for you just for this occasion; and those nylons, God, I could eat you up in those. In fact I think I just might," he chuckled.

I relaxed back against the padded armrest and Stanley bent down and lifted my legs so that I was lying lengthways on the divan. I was lying with my back supported by the padded armrest and my legs across Stanley's lap.

"That's better," he smiled and began to stroke my legs with his hands.

"Oh that feels so sensuous, and I just love those little rhinestones sprinkled on your stockings," he said.

He bent his head and raised one of my legs to his mouth and commenced planting sweet little kisses all up and down my calf. He moved his lips slowly up and down my lower limb and then licked the back seam of my stocking all the way down to my high-heeled sandal. He kissed my feet, and pushed his tongue into the darker reinforced extremity of my hose and sucked on my painted toes through my open toe sandals. I must say it felt quite erotic.

Stanley used his free hand to stroke my other leg sliding his fingers far up under my skirt, stroking up and down my leg slowly and sensuously.

"Mmmmm let me see," he groaned and lifted his face from my feet.

He opened my legs slightly and raised my skirt up around my waist. He gazed upon me lying there with my stockinged legs in his lap with the hem of my slip coming halfway down my thighs, the pure white nylon slip in contrast with the dark hosiery.

"Lovely," he said, and began to kiss me up and down my legs again.

This time he buried his head under my slip and continued up my legs right to the top of my thighs. He kissed the front panel of my satin panties whilst stroking my legs. After a minute or so of placing soft kisses on my panties and thighs he made his way back down my legs and began to suck on my nylon sheathed toes again. His hands were now sliding the soft material of my slip up and down my thighs creating wonderful sensations through my body. My member was stiffening further and was becoming uncomfortable being held in place under my crotch by my pantyhose and tight panties.

Stanley was now licking my shiny black patent leather sandals, holding both my feet in place by the spikes of my heels. As he worshipped my feet and gazed up my legs, his eyes glazed over with lust; then he started sucking on the spiky high-heels, taking them into his mouth and lovingly caressing them with his tongue; first one then the other; as if fellating my heels.

He was panting and groaning as he worshipped my legs and feet. Then he moved one hand down to his fly and pulled on the zipper. His hand disappeared inside and rummaged around eventually freeing his erection; it protruded stiffly from his trousers, red, angry and engorged.

Stanley lifted my feet and re-positioned them one on either side of his hard cock and slowly started to fuck my feet. I realised what he was doing and assisted him. I slowly started to masturbate him with my feet, slowly lifting them up and down, letting my soft stocking foot caress the head of his penis and then the patent leather of my shoes.

Stanley threw his head back against the cushioned divan and let me foot fuck him. He renewed his carnal attack on my legs as I wanked him with my feet. I trapped his member my feet and stroked hard. He moaned and writhed in ecstasy.

Then he looked at me again and gently moved my feet out of his crotch. He stood up and re-positioned himself on the divan so that he was kneeling between my spread legs. With trepidation I thought, 'Here he goes; he's going to fuck me.' But he didn't. Stanley closed my legs and lifted my feet up to his mouth and began to worship them with his lips and tongue again. I was lying down full length on the divan now with just my head pillowed on the armrest, my skirt and slip rucked up around my waist with my legs lifted up whilst Stanley took oral pleasure on my feet and calves. Now I knew what 'sweet treasures' the Warden wanted to taste; he was a foot fetish. 'Well at least I might leave here without having to gratify him in some other disgusting way,' I thought to myself.

Stanley was now in a frenzy, lapping and sucking at my shoes, toes, and feet; he was panting, his face red and sweating. Stanley actually looked quite pathetic dressed in his full suit with just his stiff penis poking out his trousers as he paid homage to my peds. He stopped briefly and quickly fumbled at his waist, undoing his belt and pushing his pants down around his thighs. Then he gripped my ankles, lowered my legs and pushed my feet together. He pulled my feet between his legs so that his cock lay in the silken valley created by my calves. Then he started to fuck my legs.

He rubbed against me faster and faster and I could feel the friction of his hard cock against my nylons. Stanley groaned and whimpered. His gaze alternated between my face and my pantied crotch as he pushed his cock against me harder and faster.

I decided that I would assist him with his fantasy and placed two slender, red-nailed fingers on the gusset of my pure white satin panties and began to stroke. Stanley reacted immediately.

"Oh yes Michele! You naughty, naughty girl!"

"You are such a pretty girl, but such a naughty girl," he chanted.

"Oh Michele, you naughty nyloned princess I'm going to come; I'm going to come all over your pretty toes and feet; would you like that?" he begged.

"Yes Stanley please; please come all over me!" I role-played for him as he approached his climax.

He shifted his grip to my ankles again and pulled my feet up to his quivering member. I knew exactly what he wanted and began to masturbate him hard and fast between my feet; pushing back and forth with my legs so that my high-heels and stockinged feet ran up and down the length of his shaft. At the same time I furiously rubbed the front of my panties; a parody of a woman pleasuring herself.

"Come for me Stanley; come on honey, come for Michele baby," I cooed.

Stanley's face screwed up and went bright red as a shattering orgasm washed over him. Ropes of creamy semen jetted from his penis splashing up my legs. Spatters of his spend formed sticky white pools on my calves and feet; they glistened in stark contrast on my black stockings. My diaphanous black hose became darker still in the places where Stanley's semen soaked into the nylon.

A silvery thread of Stanley's ejaculate hung down from the heel of one my shoes forming a sticky necklace between my foot and his deflating penis.

"Oh Michele, that was wonderful," Stanley gasped and collapsed on top of me.

His weight nearly knocked the breath out of me as he started to cover me my face with soft kisses again. I pushed lightly against him until he took the hint and rolled off me so we were lying side by side. Stanley pulled me close against him, one arm over my body caressing my buttocks, slowly stroking the sheer nylon slip against my panties. His kisses grew harder and his tongue now invaded my mouth; I could hardly breath. I managed to pull my face away from his.

"I'm glad you liked that Stanley; was that how you wanted to take me?" I whispered in his ear.