Before you read this story:
There is a lot of use of some very derogatory words in this piece. The main character, played by me, the writer, is called a faggot, a queer, a queerbo, a queer boy, a fairy, and a poofter, as well as a host of other names. In the context of this story, I believe these are what the character would have been called.
I do not condone the use of these labels and would angrily correct anyone I heard using them.
There is a lot of violence in this piece. The main character is repeatedly raped and beaten.
If any of the above is abhorrent to you, do not read any further.
All characters are over 18 years of age.
JohnMurray4173.
Prison Bitch
Okay. So I fucked up.
As they say, "Do the crime, do the time." So I am.
I'm not sure I deserved this, though.
It started the day I found a suitcase of money underneath the train seat as I journeyed home from work. I didn't know it was full of money. I just tried the latches to check to see if there were any I.D. documents in it to identify the owner.
The case was packed to the brim with large denomination notes.
Yes, I know. I should have handed the case to the nearest police station. But I was tempted, you know?
This wasn't the crime that had me sent away, though. It was what happened after.
You see, the case belonged to one of the local crime gangs.
I don't know how they found who took the case. If I had to guess, they either bribed or coerced someone in the security room to show them the train carriage's CCTV footage.
Someone was sent to 'encourage' me to hand over the case.
Now, I'm a pretty big guy. I stand 6ft. 4 in. (193 cm) and weigh a well-muscled 276 lb (125 kg). I've competed in Muay Thai tournaments professionally with some success.
I was able to 'persuade' this guy to leave me alone.
The gang sent four guys with knives, and guns, to retrieve their property.
All this did was convince me that if I could make them leave me alone, the money would be mine. It's not like they were going to call the cops, were they?
I dealt with these four guys and sent a message back. "Leave me alone, or I will come after you!"
Didn't work. Of course, it didn't. There was almost a quarter of a million dollars in that case. The gang was never going to give that up.
Besides, they couldn't have some 'civilian' stealing from them, now could they? What kind of message does that send?
Hey, I said I'm big and strong. I never said I was smart!
The gang sent a group to get me and retrieve their property. During this kerfuffle, I killed a man. I didn't mean to, but bad things happen when there are knives and guns.
They got their case back.
With my other... ummm... 'minor indiscretions', I faced the three-strike policy and got the mandatory 18 years.
I've done prison time before. It's not pleasant, but you keep your head down, keep to yourself, and mind your own business.
You become the proverbial three monkeys all in one. You hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.
I got through the first three years without a problem. There were a couple of minor confrontations with members of the gang who were inside with me. But, as I had stayed shtum on what the ruckus had been about, and because I had swiftly handled any attempted retaliation, plus they had the case, the gang, mostly, left me alone.
Everything was going fine until the fateful day arrived. I was sitting on my cell bed. I don't like heights, so I was happy to take the lower bed.
As I read my book, the cell door opened, and Sampson, one of the prison guards, came in. He was holding a computer tablet.
"Out!" The guard demanded of Jimmy, my cellmate.
My cellmate found somewhere else to be.
"Look what I found," he crowed.
"Your wife on all fours with a cock in every hole?" I ventured.
I really didn't like Sampson. He was a smug, pudgy bastard who mercilessly bullied the weaker prisoners but cowered around the strong ones. I was a strong one.
"That smart mouth of yours is going to get you an 'accidental stair fall' one day, Michael", Sampson snarled at me.
It's always Michael. Not Mike, nor Mikey, nor Mick. Always Michael. Got it? Don't forget.
"Maybe, Kid Sampson (a reference to a Catch-22 character that was a small weak kid). But not today, and not by you!" I sneered back.
Sampson placed the tablet in front of me. My blood ran cold. Somehow he had found one of my Biaustralia profiles.
I have a very deeply hidden secret. I like to crossdress. It's harmless fun. I like the pantomime of it.
When I 'dress', I go the whole hog. I completely shave down from head to toe. Wig on, make up. Stay-up stockings, 7 in. heels. Corset and control briefs. The briefs hide the 'bulge'.
Somehow, Sampson had found my MarieGoodTG profile along with the many pictures on it.
I tried to bluster my way out of it. "Who's that, Sampson? Your new girlfriend? Bit of a minger, isn't she?"
"It's definitely you," Sampson said. "You know how I can tell? These two moles right here."
He pointed to the two small moles on the right side of my nose and the two in the picture.
"Wait till I show this to the other guards and the rest of the inmates. What will they think when they find big, tough Michael is a fairy? A nancy boy? A knob gobbler?"
"I guess I'll have to belt a few of them to settle them back down, won't I?" I bluffed.
"You didn't refute being called a knob gobbler, Michael," Sampson pointed out. "Does big tough Michael like to suck cock?"
When I'm all dressed up, I instantly become a submissive cock sucking, anal loving whore. What's the point of getting yourself all dolled up and as feminine as possible if you're not going to play the female part?
Sampson studied the photo intently. "You know, Marie? You make quite an attractive woman. I'd probably quite enjoy getting a blow job from you."
"In your dreams and my nightmares, porky!" I blustered.
Sampson turned to look at me, then folded his arms across his chest. "I will come and get you around 11.00 pm tonight. I'll have everything you'll need to transform yourself to this," he tapped the tablet's screen. "Once you've made yourself all pretty, you can give me head and, maybe, I won't show this to everyone."
I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I know how these things work. He was going to ask for more and more to keep my alter identity a secret until I became his owned bitch, but what choice did I have?
Once those pictures made it into prison distribution, I would be everybody's bitch.
Desperately trying to think of a way out, I tried, "Why don't I just belt you and take the tablet off you?"
"Do you think your profile can only be accessed from this device then, Michael? Are you really that stupid? No, go for it! Take a swing at me. I know at least 15 other officers that would love an excuse to beat your arse!"
There are always a few prison guards who like to take physical liberties with the prisoners. I had to 'explain' to a few of them they shouldn't try that with me.
"I'll see you at 11.00, Marie," Sampson sniggered as he wandered out.