And now for something completely different!
Chapter 1
I suppose that was inevitable that I would end up in prison. I had hoped that I could get away to somewhere safe before the brown stuff hit the fan. No, my greed held me back for too long and here I was, in court, with the judge about to read out my sentence.
“Delmore Edward Strauss, you have been found guilty of fraud, theft, trading under a false name and misuse of Government Property, namely two public buildings which you sold to unsuspecting citizens of another country. It may be that the other country might ask for your extradition, once your time with us has been completed, and I, for one, would be happy to see the back of you. I sentence you to ten years jail, with a parole allowable after seven years, should you last so long. Take him away.”
I didn’t have to wonder about that last remark. South African jails are the toughest in the world, often overcrowded by a factor of three and above. They were out of the hands of the authorities, who simply did their best to keep every prisoner in. Most of the prisons were run by various gangs from inside, with any leaders still organising his gang from his cell.
I suppose that I should have expected the worst, seeing that it was a fellow judge who had bought an ‘exquisite holiday home, next to golden sands’ from me. I had a system. I would find about four likely holiday properties which had the owners away, advertise them in an up-market magazine (without the addresses, of course) and sell them at prices so good, the buyers couldn’t believe their luck. With the system, I would visit the house and try the door with a soft key, then go and make one that worked. That way I could take my clients to inspect the property. I took all the deposits, promised settlement in three weeks, and then moved to a different city every six to eight weeks.
The two public buildings had been a gift from the government. I mean to say, if you build a police station that looked like an unmarked office block, you should expect someone to sell it. I even took my customer in for a walk around, telling him that the tenant wanted to keep a lot of the areas locked, for security. The second one was a long shot, a new, and unfinished, building with a nice picture on the fence showing the artists impression of the finished job. That one was sold ‘off the plan’ to an Asian investor.
I had made a lot of money, enough to retire on, but the excitement of the chase was my undoing. I had tried to sell the police station a second time, not realising that they had installed modern face-recognition cameras, my face on file from a description of the first buyer. It took several weeks to bring me to trial, but, once there, the process went like lightning. I had come to court, with my lawyer and a small suitcase, fully expecting to be found guilty.
I was taken from the dock, handcuffed, and led down to the holding cell. No-one bothered me until the door opened and a couple of court attendants came in and gave me a beating. I expect that they were friends of the judge. I was on the floor, feeling worse for wear, when a couple of prison officers came in, gave me a couple of kicks, for luck, and hauled me out of the cell and up to a loading dock where a prison van waited. I was pushed into a small cell, along with my suitcase, and left to wait until they had finished loading.
We went north out of Pretoria, my latest centre of operation. When we arrived at our destination, I had peed myself, unable to do much else with my hands manacled behind me. I wasn’t alone as we were herded into the reception room, via a washing area where we were hosed down with something that smelt like disinfectant. One by one, we were taken into another room, uncuffed and told to strip. Our wet clothes were put into a bag, which was attached to whatever bags we had brought, The guard told us that these will be kept for when we came out. That was a laugh for a start!
We were then issued prison orange, rather fetching, if you ask me. All of us, from the van, were taken to a reasonable sized cell, with just enough bunks for us all. As he locked us in, the guard laughed and told us that we were lucky that we were here first but to expect to fend off new arrivals as they joined us. Before the time for food arrived, there were three times as many in the cell. I had just given up and lay on the floor, rather than fighting for my place. I wasn’t feeling the best from the earlier beating, anyway.
The feeding was survival of the strongest, and I was still fitter than most of those around me, so didn’t take part in the skirmishes. Instead, I listened to the talk, finding out that I was housed in the Matatshe Prison, just north of Pretoria, and, from the consensus of my companions, not a bad place, as prisons go. Two days later, after some of the others had been hauled off, they came for me. It was good to breathe fresher air, as the two buckets in the cell were so rank, it was difficult to breathe.
I was taken to a holding area, where my sack of soiled clothes and my suitcase was put by my side. There was even a latrine area where I, with a guard to watch, was able to take the crap I had held in and was threatening to make me explode. Then three of us were taken out to the loading area and each given a small cell in a prison van. This one, at least, had small, barred, windows so we could see where we were going.
That trip was relentless. The guards swapped the driving, stopped for breaks without worrying about us. When one guy shouted, they waited until we were somewhere away from everywhere, then pulled him out and knocked him around a bit. After travelling the rest of the day, and all through the night, we arrived at an area which I recognised. I had set up an office, here, a long time ago. We were in Tokia, some way north of Cape Town City.
That’s when my heart almost stopped and what little in my stomach threatened to make its way to the outer world. If we were in Tokia, we were on the way to Pollsmoor Prison, the most feared in the country, not because of the guards, but because it was run by the gangs, and they had stopped reporting on how many had been carried from that institution in body bags. No wonder the judge had said “should you last so long”.
My lifespan, in this place, as a white, Afrikaner, short and slim, could be given in weeks, if not days. I allowed myself to look out of the van window and take it all in as if it was my last view of the world. Here, I would be beaten as a daily ritual, raped as a matter of normal activity, starved, and left to die, just another that couldn’t take the life that was normal for most of the inmates. The keys that were set into the heels of the shoes in my case would not be any good for me now. My nest-eggs would go uncollected.
The sun was coming up as we pulled into the main doors of the Medium Prison B. We stopped at another set of doors and the main doors were closed before the ones in front opened. The van then drove around to a set of gates to a wire compound, where we went through another double gate and into the compound. There, we were let out of the van and our baggage was put on a sack truck. The guard told us that they would be waiting for us when our sentence finished, smiling broadly as he said it.
We then went inside a building and ordered to strip. Then we were sent into separate shower cubicles, without doors so that one guard could watch. There, I had the best shower that I had enjoyed for days, with plenty of suds from the industrial strength soap. We were given new, orange, coveralls, and a pair of slipper-like shoes. We were registered on a big ledger and separated, the other two being led away. The guard who filled in the ledger grinned at me and tut-tutted.
“Who’s a lucky boy, eh? Take him to the games room, I believe there’s a trusty there who will show him his future.”
I was led through numerous doors, that were unlocked and then locked behind us. We reached a room where an older guy, dressed in the prison orange, waited for us. The guard just nodded to him and turned around to return back to where we had come from.
“Bit of a surprise, eh?” said the trusty. “This is where we run the place. Follow me.”
I followed him through an unlocked door, out into the daylight and into a fenced area with benches along one edge. He told me to sit on a bench. He stayed standing.
“I hope that you have a strong constitution and a sense of humour, young lad, because you’re going to need it. I’m to leave you here. Through that door over there, you will see two guys who will come and ask you one simple question. If you give the right answer, you get the chance of a lifetime. If you give the wrong answer, your life ends here and now. You’ll recognise the guys, their names are Pluto and Bluto, here in Medium B. They look a bit like Oliver and Hardy on steroids. Whatever happens, I’ll be a long way from here, in the company of guards. Good luck, young fellow. I don’t know why you were chosen, but, looking at you, I think that I might have a good guess.”
He went back inside, and I heard the sound of a bolt pushed home. I sat there for about twenty minutes, savouring the sun on my face and the breeze making my hair blow around my ears. I had been surprised that no-one had taken shears or clippers to it once I was incarcerated. I had my eyes closed when I heard a clang and looked up to see two monsters walking across the yard to come and stand in front of me. I could understand the description, I guessed that Pluto was the short, white, one, while Bluto was a massive native, maybe Zulu. They were both adorned with gang tatts. As they got closer, I realised that the shorter one was still a good six inches taller than me. He spoke as they stopped in front of me.
“Delmore, for some reason our boss has taken a shine to you. He has been following your case in the news. He has told us to ask you if you will give yourself to him for the duration of your sentence. Will you do that?”
There was only one way to go, so I nodded and said “Yes, I will.”
“Good,” growled Bluto, “We’ve already reached our quota of bodies for the week. The guards get upset if we have too many. Come with us.”
I felt like a child, between the two of them, as we went out of the door that they had come through, and into the maze that was the prison. It was a typical prison, set out in squares with yards in the middle. The noise was deafening, and the smell made me want to puke. We went right to the end of the corridor, where the air was much better, and the sound had diminished a bit.
Right at the far end of the row, there was a gang member standing guard over the last three cells. One thing that I had noted, on the way, was that all the cell doors were open, and the prisoners had free reign. My attendants stopped and ushered me on. The guy grinned, showing a mouthful of blackened teeth.
“Come along, Delia, the boss has been waiting for you. Don’t be shy, he doesn’t bite, unless he likes you.”
I walked to the last cell door, as he had indicated, thinking, Delia? I’ve just got here, and I’m already classed as a bitch?
The cell was quite large, obviously originally designed for four prisoners, or more. Sitting at a small desk was a large native, with only a couple of tatts. He was in his fifties, if I took a guess, but still fit. He gestured to a metal chair that was in front of the desk. I sat, and waited, as he looked at me with soulless eyes. I had seen those eyes in the paper. I was looking at Dirk Hender, one of the deadliest gang leaders in the country.
“Delmore,” he said, at last. “I was interested in you when I found out that you had tried to sell a Police Station, not just once, but twice. That marked you as being a man who took chances but was arrogant enough to think you could get away with it. I saw that the police could only stick a couple of charges on you, although I would guess that you had been in the business a lot longer. That shows that you can be careful, staying below the radar.”
I sat there, just listening, as he paused, tapping a pencil on a piece of paper.
“I have a need for a person like you, someone who can oversee my activities and co-ordinate the flow of information that comes into the prison. Can you do that for me?”
“I believe that I can, given a few days to find my feet. This is the first time I’ve been into a place like this, there’s a lot I have to learn.”
“More than you would think. Part of the job is to be my wyfie. You have all the looks that make you perfect, in fact, I think I like you already. However, I don’t class myself as gay, so our fun will have to wait until you look the part. I arranged you to be brought to me from the court. I’m sorry that the judges’ friends knocked you around a bit, it wasn’t something I could say ‘no’ to. You do have to negotiate, sometimes. For the first few weeks, you will stay in the cell next door, I think you will find it comfortable. You will be taken to the library. There, you will be shown how the inmates send and receive messages in books. New books that come in will have messages that the guards have read, but not understood. Old books are sent to a charity that we run, and they also contain messages. You will not be able to understand the messages as you have yet to gain my trust. We do, however, have seven years for you to achieve that.”
He smiled, for the first time.
“Welcome to my world, Delia, my sweet wyfie. If you thought that you were breaking the law before, becoming my right-hand girl will put you into another class altogether. Now, go next door. You’ll meet my current wyfie there. She is called Cloe and has been good to me for the last eight years. She will show you the ropes until she is to be discharged in just over three weeks.”
He looked down at the papers as I rose and left the cell. My mind was in a whirl, me, as right-hand girl to Dirk Hender, in more ways than one. My world had been turned on its head and thoroughly shaken. This was something that I had never contemplated, it was just too bizarre. I had expected to be raped and killed, not to be made love to and put into a sphere of total criminality. I was just a fraudster, not a murderer.
As I left the cell, I noticed that the corridor that ran at right angles, had a grill with a gate, so the access to our end of this row was just the way I came. As my gaze looked beyond the gate, a giant of a native, every part that I could see covered in tatts, gave me a grin. I realised that another gang leader may be that close.
I went to the next cell and walked in. It was a little smaller than the other one, possibly originally build to house three inmates. Waiting for me was a redhead, which was accentuated by her prison orange, altered to become a dress. She smiled and came to me and gave me a hug.
“Welcome to your new home, Delia. While I’m still here I’ll try to turn you into the next, and hopefully last, wyfie to Dirk. You will be the fourth wyfie; the first was Amy, and she was sent here just a month after Dirk got sentenced to twenty-five years without parole. She was let out after her five years. She had trained up the second, Bella, who was here for her five years. She trained me and I’ve been here nearly eight years. If you reach your release date, it will be within a few weeks of Dirk getting out as well.”
I looked around the cell, what little there was to see. Beside the latrine, there was a small metal desk and two metal chairs, a small cupboard, as well as a double bunk along the outside wall, with the upper one just below the barred window slit. I looked back at her and took in the obvious female shape, breasts, hips, narrow waist, bare legs, and arms.
“I know you think it’s crazy, but you don’t have to get to look like me straight away. We just have to get you looking, and acting, feminine enough for Dirk to pretend that you’re a woman who likes to have his dick in her arse. The consequences of not enjoying it are fatal. If you displease him, he will give you to the four soldiers next door, for that night. It is a very long night, I can tell you, from experience, but they do not damage the goods, so they don’t knock you around. You’ve already met Bluto and Pluto, there is one sleeping who is called Spike, and the one out in the corridor is Bull. He and Spike take twelve-hour shifts guarding these three cells. I hope that you have a good memory because there’s a lot to take in.”
“I do have an excellent memory, thank you, Cloe. I wouldn’t have been any good at my profession if I hadn’t. The double bunk, do you often have visitors?”
“No, but I keep it there so I can look out the window and see the glow of the outside world. Just on the other side of the wall is the Steenberg Village, where normal people shop.”
“I remember that from the times I worked in the city, I remember getting things in the Woolworths, there.”
“Right, we’re on the extreme corner of the prison. The part that you were brought through is set aside for the lower-level gang members, there are two other sections, each with their own leaders. There are three gangs here, we’re called the twenty-sixers, and we organise the gambling and smuggling. The twenty-seveners are on the other side of the yard, with their leader just around the corner. They are the enforcers, and you don’t want to upset any of them. The twenty-eights are the general soldiers, in the next block. We get an hour in the yards, each day, but we don’t allow exercise. That time is strictly when we find out what else is going on inside this place, and to make plans with other leaders. It’s also when punishment is given out.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it sewn up.”
“You’d better believe it. The guards allow us a lot of leeway because the alternative can be catastrophic. This place was built to house four and a half thousand, at a pinch. At last count, we were over seven thousand and it doesn’t take much to explode. Most of the guys in here have nothing to lose. They don’t have any chance of a job outside. A lot of them will kill another inmate, on request, just to get an extension of their sentence, so tread lightly.”
“What about you, looking the way you are?”
“That’s easy. Only a leader has the power to arrange these changes, so most of the prison population will steer clear, maybe giving you a whistle or a leer, but never if you have one of our enforcers nearby. There are several, like us, in the place, as well as a lot more wyfies who don’t have the advantage of looking good. They’re the smaller ones who get reamed, whether they like it or not.”
“That’s what I expected my fate to be. I suppose that being a wyfie to one guy is an improvement.”
“It certainly is. Now, we have to get you started. I have a new outfit for you, and you need to get some food into you so that you can start your pills. I saved you a bit of breakfast.”
I was sat on one of the chairs and presented with a bowl that looked like gruel but tasted like bacon. When I had finished it, she gave me two containers of pills.
“One is the testosterone blockers, the other I hormones. Take three of each, twice a day, for a week and we’ll see how you do on them. As the good doctors say, ‘You may have odd feelings and mood swings as they act,’ but don’t worry, you’re unlikely to die. Now, let’s get you looking the part.”
I took off the orange jump suit, then she attacked me with a small electric razor, plugged into a socket next to the desk. She took her time, going over some areas more than once, until I was smooth. She then handed me a pair of female panties and told me to make sure I tucked my dick between my legs when I pulled them up. Then it was a white, cotton, bra, complete with filling, to give me breasts. Finally, I pulled up the new orange dress, buttoning it up to a point where she told me to stop.
“Good thing we all wear these slippers, you don’t have to learn to walk in heels. But you do have to learn to walk as if you’re wearing heels. Short steps, one foot in front of the other, no striding, even if you’re in a hurry. Now, let’s see what we can do with the lashes and hair.”
She then began to pluck my lashes, the brushed my hair out to look a bit less slept in.
“I notice that you have the razor and tweezers, surely these aren’t allowed.”
“The razor is allowed, because we can’t have a blade of any kind, and the guards don’t want anyone growing beards, as it can make it difficult to identify someone. What they haven’t twigged is that the foil of an electric, if split, makes an excellent weapon. The tweezers are kept in a safe place, we always get advance notice of a search.”
She pulled out a tube of lipstick and told me to pucker. When she was happy, she grinned.
“Now, let’s see if you pass muster.”
I wasn’t sure of this, but she took me by the hand and pulled me out into the corridor.
“Hey, Bull, what do you think of our new wyfie?”
Bull looked startled and then broke into that black-toothed grin.
“Hell, Delia, I hope you get into some trouble so I can get a piece one night.”
As he looked me over, I could see his jump suit tenting. I gulped, then thanked him in my nicest voice. At that, Cloe laughed and pulled me back into the cell.
“Dammit girl, here five minutes and you get Bull aroused. I don’t think it’s going to take the full three weeks.”
Back in the cell, she showed me the two drawers set under the lower bunk. I was given the right-hand one, for now. It already contained a couple of cotton nighties, some bra and pant sets and a small box with cosmetics, as well a box of the pill containers. It wasn’t much, I know, but a lot more than I had arrived with. There was a bit of polished tin on the desk, and she got me to try to make myself up, wiping it off if she wasn’t happy. Then, she had me walking back and forth in the cell, until she thought that I could do it properly.
“Right, Delia. This is the first test. We are going to get our enforcers to escort us to the admin block, where we spend the afternoon in the library. We get lunch with the guards there. You’ll get to know them all, by name, before the first year is over. Remember, we don’t rush anything, one is because it gets the authorities jumpy, and the other is that you have seven years to endure. Rushing about isn’t going to make that pass any quicker.”
I hoped that her faith in me wasn’t misplaced as we went next door to find Bluto and Pluto.
Marianne Gregory © 2023
Chapter 2
She picked up a small hessian bag and I followed her to the next cell, aware of Bull gazing at my butt as we went in. The cell was the same size as Cloes’ but with two bunk sets, with one having a guy curled up in it. Bluto and Pluto was sitting at the table, playing cards.
“Hi, there, boys. We’re ready for our walk of shame to the library.”
They looked at us, then more closely at me.
“By my ancestors dicks,” breathed Pluto, “Just a few hours and Delia is going to slay them in the aisles.”
With Pluto in front and Bluto behind, we went back the way I had come in. I was aware, in fact I could almost feel, Bluto’s eyes on my butt as I walked my best copy of Cloe in front of me. There was a bubble of silence as we moved through the prison, until we arrived at the door to the outside. We went across the yard, and Pluto knocked on the door to the games room. It was opened by the trusty I had met this morning. The other two turned around and left us as the trusty barred the door and then turned to face us.
“Well, Cloe, what magic have you done to produce this little beauty. It makes me sad that my nuts got cut off, ten years ago. Come along, I will escort you two lovelies to the library.”
“Thank you, kind Euni, she did scrub up well, and it didn’t take a lot of effort on my part. If I had to take a guess, I would say that she’d done this before, or else is just a natural woman who had been hiding in that male body.”
I just followed them through a couple more doors, from the games room to the gym, and then to one that looked like a small bit of a church, finally to a large room with shelves around the wall, with books on them. When we were alone, I lifted an eyebrow.
“Euni?”
“Short for eunuch,” she giggled. “In here, everyone takes on a name that relates to them. Bull got his because he is built like one, and I’m sure you can deduce why Spike got his, or you will when he gets to spend some quality time with you.”
“Why do I take that with a sense of dread? For your information, I’ve never even contemplated this sort of life before. It’s only because it’s been thrust on me, so to speak.”
“I think that having it thrust on you will be the story of the next seven years. It will take us a week or more to give you all the tips for keeping your looks. Remember, as far as you’re concerned, that will be a matter of life, or death.”
She then got into schoolmistress mode.
“This is what the authorities call the Library. It looks good to visitors, but I can tell you that more than half of the guys here can’t read a word, and the remainder keep clear, so we are never bothered by someone wanting to borrow a book. We get new books, supplied in small batches, each week, by a charitable organisation. We put together a small pile of old books to be returned to them. We, of course, run the charity and it does do good works, outside.”
She opened the hessian bag and pulled out some papers.
“These are to go, so we need to find enough old books. If we can’t find enough, we just rough up a few of the better ones. Today, we need fourteen books, so have a look on the shelves to see what you can find.”
I looked and found enough that looked like they had been here a long time, then she put one message in each book. The books were then put into a box marked ‘Out’ and we moved to another box, marked ‘In’, and emptied it on the only table in the room. There were ten books, and she opened each one to take a message out, putting the collection into her bag. I was instructed to put the new arrivals in the shelves, randomly, as they were only for show.
“Now,” she smiled. “We get lunch.”
She went to another door and looked up to a camera.
“Tony, sweetie, you have two for lunch, today.”
The door clicked and we went through, the door clicking again as it closed. She whispered as we moved down a corridor.
“Whatever happens, you’re Dirks’ new wyfie, and not to be messed with. A bit of flirting goes a long way, though.”
Going through another door, this one automatically opening as we approached, I found that we had entered a large room, with tables and chairs, as well as a canteen counter. It had six or seven guards in it, sitting at tables, some with plates in front of them. She put out a hand to stop me as we entered.
“Guys, I would like to introduce Delia, my replacement as Dirks’ wyfie when I leave this wonderful establishment. She will be here for the next seven years, so you’ll have plenty of time to talk to her. Now, what’s on the menu today?”
It was weird, it was surreal, it was totally unbelievable. We sat and were talked to by the guards, as if we were a couple of girls in a bar. I had a good meal and realised that this was one way to stay fit and healthy for the duration. They all knew why I was here, and the topic of the phantom police station was explored with a lot of laughter. It was odd to be the centre of attention with a bunch of guys and was able to add a few snippets of other sales I had made. It wasn’t as if I was going back to that when I left. I didn’t give enough away to be hauled up on more charges, though.
When we had our meal and needed to go, I followed Cloes’ lead in giving all the guys a kiss on the cheek, then we were back in the corridor.
“I don’t know about you, Cloe, but I’m in need of a pee.”
“There’s one in the library, you don’t want to see the one the guards use, that’s a horror. I look after the one we’re going to use.”
Back in the library, she showed me the one-person toilet, allowing me to go first after being instructed to sit, like a lady.
I sat at the table and waited until she came out.
“Now what?”
“Now, it’s almost time to socialise. As the lead gang, we get to control this room. The other gangs have to go through us to send and receive messages. If something comes in for them, Dirk gets to look at it first and then we pass it on during yard time. The only ones that come in here are all wyfies of the other leaders. There are usually four of them and they do like to use the toilet here. You’ll get to know them before I go. They’re all good girls and, like Dirks’ wyfies, will all stay a girl on the outside.”
We sat for a little while and then the door opened and Euni ushered the four new girls in, closing the door as he left. It was a riot of orange dresses, long hair, and long legs as I was welcomed by the newcomers with hugs and air kisses. I played it to the hilt, as if I had welcomed girlfriends for years. There was a lot of chat and then we got down to business. Notes were passed to Cloe, with requests from the other gangs, a few more messages went into more books to be added to the ‘Out’ box. All four used the toilet, then knocked on the door to get Euni to guide them back to the enclosure. Once they had gone, we tidied up, made sure the toilet was clean and disinfected, the waited for Euni to come for us.
“Delia, you’ve done well, today. You were just right over lunch, properly girly with the other wyfies, and I’m impressed. This all happens three times a week, other days we have to pass the time in the cell, unless we are doing our laundry. Sunday, if you want, there will be a non-denominational priest in the chapel that we came through. We come to that, as he, of course, is one of us. If there’s something important, he’ll ask us to stay back to take communion, the wafer is not to be swallowed.”
I was finding it hard to accept the fact that the prison inmates really did run the inner workings. I suppose that it was well known by the authorities, and was, no doubt, replicated in every prison in the country. When Euni let us out, our pair of protectors were waiting for us. Now, that was a strange thought. First thing, this morning, they were the angels of death if I hadn’t nodded my head. Now, I was thinking of them as my protectors.
Back in our own cell, Cloe opened the small cupboard. Inside, on a shelf, was more boxes of pills. Below was a box which Cloe pulled out and opened so I could look. It was filled with sachets containing an enema.
“These are mandatory, for you, from now on. You will use one after the evening meal, so that you’re clean inside for Dirk. If you want, you can use another when you get back here. You will certainly want to do that if you’ve spent a night with the other guys.”
Next to this was another box, which I discovered was stocked with tampons and sanitary pads.
“The tampons will be needed once you get reamed a few times, to stop you leaking. You may need to use a pad if you’ve been with Bull and Bluto. They are the biggest dicks on this side of the yard. I’ve been told that some of the enforcers, next door, are bigger but you will have to have done something drastically wrong to discover that in person. It would also be your final experience. We get these sent in once a week, and I sent out a message, today, to double the order for the next three weeks. Bella, Dirks’ second wyfie, organises that, while Amy is the contact with the rest of the gang, outside.”
“Is that where you’ll be going when you get out?”
“Not straight away. Dirk has promised me a visit to a clinic where I can get the final operation to make me a proper woman. Both of the others have done that, and I expect that you’ll be looking forward to it in seven years. You’ll certainly qualify as having lived as a woman by then, are you sure you’ve never done this, before?”
“Cloe, in my professional life I was a chameleon, taking on a lot of different looks. Selling city houses you have to look like a businessman, selling seaside ones needs a more ‘beach bum’ look. I’ve been so many different personalities, I’ve almost lost count. The closest I got to playing a woman was once, when I was a rather foppish guy in a pink suit, and another time when I was mannish tomboy, in leather jeans, big boots and a very sassy attitude. That one never included skirts or make-up. When you plan to trick people, you have to appear as someone they’re happy to deal with.”
After we had eaten the slops that served as the evening meal, we closed the door and stripped, Cloe showing me how to use the enema. A little later, we took turns on the toilet and the washed our bodies. She had an incredible pair of breasts and a tiny penis. She saw me looking.
“Dirk will organise the tits for you if he thinks you’re worth it. It’s a long procedure to make sure that the right surgeon is available. The hospital wing here is very well equipped. Now, we’ll both dress to please, tonight. I think that Dirk may want to talk to me, in private, about you. You don’t have to worry, there’s nothing bad I can say. I’ll try to not be too enthusiastic, or else he’ll want to try you out before you’re ready for him.”
We both put on the sexiest underwear we had and left a lot of buttons loose when we put the orange dress on. We sat and talked, until a new face popped in the doorway.
“Cloe, sweetheart, you’re on.”
“Thanks, Spike. Come in and meet Delia, who arrived as a beaten man this morning and is now a strong, and proud woman. She’ll be here until Dirk gets out. Come and give her a kiss, and I think she may be ready for testing in a few days.”
Spike was stick-thin, but it was the tent at groin level that must have given him his name. He came in and held me close, so that I felt his rod against my stomach. He then gave me a kiss. I don’t know what I had expected, all this happening so quickly, but it was the gentleness of the kiss that surprised me. If I’d been a girl, it might have made my heartbeat faster.
“Nice.” Was all he said as he went back to his guard post. I just stood there with a feeling of total awareness that this was to be my life for seven years, the plaything of the boss, but the pin-up girl of the under-managers. There must have been a look on my face that gave me away.
“You’ve just realised that you may enjoy it, haven’t you? I’ll see you when I get back.”
With that she walked out of the cell with a sway that would have made me feel randy if I hadn’t been standing there in sexy underwear and a dress. This morning I had arrived, not expecting to live out the day. Tonight, I was in a totally new world of intrigue and sex. Of bulging muscles and rampant dicks. I sat at the table and thought seriously about how I was going to get through the coming years. I made a resolution that I would do everything I could to walk out of this place with my head held high.
Cloe came back after about two hours, and immediately stripped and did a cloth wash, followed by an enema. I was on the top bunk, quietly watching, until she saw that I was awake. As the cell door was wide open, she came close and whispered.
“He was particularly loving, tonight. He asked about you and I told him that the next time he needs servicing you should be ready. That means that you need to be inducted, tonight, if possible.”
She went to the cupboard and pulled out a jar of lube and instructed me to get out of bed, making sure by butt was greased. She then went to the door and whispered to Spike. He came into the cell and up to me, standing there in a cotton nightie with the feeling that I was going to become a woman, right now. He put his hands on my shoulders and then gave me one of those gentle kisses. I couldn’t help but put my hands behind his head and respond. It was lucky that the metal table was bolted to the floor because he lifted me onto the edge and, still kissing me, shucked his coveralls, his dick suddenly making itself known against my butt.
Caught up in the moment, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he penetrated me. The initial pain became a sort of pleasure as he thrust into me, both of us quiet as he pumped faster and faster, until he came, inside me. It was only the fact that we didn’t stop kissing that kept me from crying out. We stayed, entwined, for several minutes as we both came down from the high. He pulled out, his dick slowly deflating, and he pulled his coverall back up.
“When we get out, I want you to be my woman. Whatever Dirk promises, agree to it all but when the time comes, you’re mine to love.”
He then kissed me again as I stood up, and walked out of the cell, letting Cloe back in.
“Are you all right, Spike is a good guy, for a gangster. He may be long, but not too big.”
“Can we just go to bed, Cloe? I really can’t process how I feel at the moment.”
We hugged and she got into the lower bunk, while I climbed, slowly, back into the top one. I didn’t sluice as I wanted to completely savour the feeling that I had another man’s seed in me. I thought of his kiss, in wonderment of how it made me feel. I’d been kissed by guys before, once while I was I the pink suit. The mark had been so happy to get his dream home, he had hugged and kissed me. That was very awkward and exceedingly sloppy. The other times were when I was playing the tomboy. One mark was so certain that some of his ‘special loving’ would bring me back to the fold, he had forced himself on me. Those kisses had been hard and unfeeling.
Today, however, the kisses that Spike had placed, so gently, on my lips, had been almost loving. I couldn’t figure out if I was just being a good actor, or if I really was thinking like a woman. It was all unresolved as I lay there, hearing cries of pain from distant cells, happy that my fears hadn’t come to pass.
Eventually, sleep overtook me, and I woke with a need to pee. I climbed down, as quietly as I could, and sat on the latrine. It was then that I realised that this was only my second day of a seven-year stretch, and that any qualms I may have brought with me, about privacy, were now well and truly out of the window. Nothing I did was without scrutiny unless I was alone in the cell. I sat there, quietly sobbing as the cum dripped from my anus.
“It’s all right, Delia,” came a quiet voice from the lower bunk. “We’ve all been there. It doesn’t get any better, I know, but for us it can’t get much worse. Spike’s a good guy, under that gangster, and I can tell that he has been smitten by you, as Delia. You shouldn’t have any trouble with Dirk, he’s a bit thicker but not as long, and he insists on lube. The other three aren’t bad, although Bull is thicker, by the time you get to find out for yourself, you should be able to take him, with ease.”
“Thanks for that, I just had the thought that there’s another seven years of this.”
“Get rid of those thoughts, now, my girl. That way leads to scratches on the wall and slow madness. There’s plenty that you will have to do, and a lot to think about. The slow days can be classed as holidays. Now, you’d better do another enema, so that you clean yourself out. We don’t want you catching something, although all of our guys stay clear of other inmates and we wyfies do get regular checks for STDs.”
I administered the enema and waited for a while before sitting back on the latrine. Feeling a bit better, I climbed back onto the top bunk to wait for the morning light. I must have dozed because I woke to a prod on my arm.
“Come on, sleepyhead, we’ve just got time to make ourselves presentable before the slops cart comes around, bringing whatever they have decided to call breakfast.”
So, I got down from my bed, pulling the blanket tight, and started my first, full, day here. We checked each other out for stray hairs and washed. Putting on another set of underwear and the orange dress, I started getting thoughts.
“Yesterday, you said something about laundry. How does that work? These dresses aren’t going to be much good after a few more days.”
“Once a week you will be taken back to admin, and then to the laundry room. There are washers and tumble driers there. It’s an all-day thing, all the wyfies take it in turns to wash and dry the clothes. You will be doing this row and another section. The guy’s boxers are the worst, especially the bloody or shitty ones, but you do get to look after your own stuff properly. You get to take your things in a bag, so that you can make sure that they’re not lost. All the guy’s things have a number tag on them, so you just wash and dry them in bulk and leave them in big sacks for the guards to hand out. Oh! You do have another bag with our guy’s stuff, so that they’re looked after. It’s just the sort of a thing that a wyfie does for her menfolk.”
We were sitting at the table when I heard a lot of chatter outside. I looked out and saw some inmates pushing carts. I had vaguely experienced this the evening before, when they had brought the evening meal around, but I wanted to learn all I could, now. There was three carts. One was being filled with the bowls we had last night, the second had fresh bowls, while the third had a big vat of what they laughingly called food.
“There’s a hot shelf under the vat,” said Cloe. “That’s where they keep Dirks’ food. Don’t even look at it, or you’ll be trying to think about ways to get it off him, and that’s a sure way to a body bag.”
We handed in our bowls, got new ones and then our ladle of slop. It looked like gruel and tasted like bacon, just like the one yesterday morning, and, funnily enough, the one last night. We had our own wooden spoons that we washed and kept in the cell. Of course, with no knives or forks allowed, slop was really the only way they could feed us. I found out, as the days rolled on, that the taste did alter. Sometimes it tasted like chicken for days on end and other times you couldn’t pick whether it was lamb, beef, or a mixture of both.
Today, after we had eaten and rinsed our bowls, Cloe continued putting me through my paces in being a woman. I walked, having to stay on my toes, until my ankles hurt. We talked with me trying to sound female. Our topics included other things I needed to know, like what Dirk liked when it was my time to look after him, to how to treat any other leaders, when I met them. This, I discovered, would be my lot during yard times, should Dirk have dealings. She made it clear that, when we were in the yard, I was to stay as close to Dirk as I could, for my own safety. We had missed yard hour, yesterday, by being in the library.
We were deep into a nail-sanding session when the lunch carts came around. After that, we made ourselves presentable for the yard. This would be the first time Dirk would have seen me presenting as his wyfie, and it was to be my first chance to show him that I wouldn’t let him down. We knew it was time when Bluto and Pluto looked in to tell us to get ready.
We stood in the doorway until Dirk came out of his cell. He looked at us both, then smiled. With Pluto in front and Bluto behind, we made our way to an open door to the yard, Cloe on one arm and me on the other. Out in the open air it was an interesting sight. The neighbouring gang leader was there, with two of the girls I had met in the library. There was no talk, unless spoken to, but Dirk introduced me to this hulk of a man, as his new wyfie. Beyond that, there were close conversations that I wasn’t able to hear, even as close as I was. I smiled at the other two girls, and they smiled back. Yesterday I had been told that they were once twin brothers and now looked like sisters.
We stayed as a close-knit group, Pluto and Bluto keeping watch, while Cloe and I played the part of Dirks’ arm-candy. I noticed that this may have been called an exercise yard, nobody did anything that looked even close to exercise. Towards the end of the hour, across the other side of the yard, a bunch of big guys beat another big guy to a pulp. As we went back to our cells, he was left there to be taken away by the guards.
Marianne Gregory © 2023
Chapter 3
I forced myself to be aloof, to block out the sight of casual murder, and to make sure it wasn’t going to happen to me. Back in our part of the prison, Dirk gave Cloe a hug and a kiss, and then turned to me, to hold me close and deliver a kiss as gentle, but more urgent, than the one that Spike had given me last night.
Bull, who had stayed in the cells to keep guard of our little section, then spoke.
“Boss, Marshall came up while you were outside, and told me that Doctor Mark will be here next week, for two days. I hope that I wasn’t being a smart-arse, but I told him that he should schedule Delia for Tuesday.”
“Well done, Bull. I think that I can wait for a little while longer to savour her delights. I do love a bit of tit sucking. Cloe, can you make sure she’s ready for Tuesday morning? No breakfast as Doctor Mark likes to start early.”
Cloe nodded and we left the others to enter our cell.
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
“It does. By Tuesday afternoon you’ll have your own breasts and will be well on the way to satisfying Dirk. When we go to the Library, on Monday, there’ll be a package for you, with some happy pills to take on Tuesday morning, as well as a sachet of evil stuff for you to put in water and drink on Monday night. You won’t get a lot of sleep because you’ll be on the latrine all night. I’ll send a message tomorrow, to get you some soft bras for after the operation.”
“So, who is Doctor Mark?”
“He comes every now and then to look after the girls in the women’s prison. Some of them get money so that they can have an enhancement while still inside. He must do a dozen or more each time he’s here. He owes Dirk a lot of favours, as a mixed he was having a lot of trouble finishing his education under apartheid, and Dirk got him into a college that had a more forgiving system, which they had to keep secret from the government. I believe that they gave classes in an old church, to give gifted coloured’s a chance of a good life.”
The rest of the day passed quietly, with me now having a lot more on my mind. I did ask Cloe if taking a book out of the Library was allowed, as it would help to pass the time once I was on my own. She thought that it would be all right, as long as I kept it out of sight, in the hessian bag, when taking it to the cell, then taking it back.
The following day was Friday, our next Library day. Cloe had been given the papers to go out. I was looking forward to this, time away from the cell and a decent meal wasn’t to be scoffed at. It all happened in a similar fashion to the previous time. The only difference was that while we were having lunch with the guards, a new face appeared and ordered me to follow him. He led me to a small medical room and proceeded to give me a full check-up, making notes as he went. He was very nice and then told me that he would see me on Tuesday, as he would be putting me under. As he walked me back to the canteen, he told me to plan to look after a ‘D’ set when they had finished.
I told Cloe this when we were alone, and she grinned.
“I think Dirk could be in love. None of us had bigger than ‘C’, so he must be planning to keep you around. You may have got under his skin more than you did with Spike. Those babies will ensure your future when you get out, with your looks you’ll be a stunner in the right dress.”
Saturday was our laundry day. Cloe and I had two bags, each. One for our underwear, and the other for our dirty jumpsuit dress. We were then given one big bag with our companions’ washing. When we finally got to the laundry, I was staggered to see the size of the room and the number of machines. We got our own loads going first, and then turned our attention to the huge pile from the rest of our wing.
There was a pair of rubber gloves which I was told to put on, so that I could sort through the piles. All of the bloody, and soiled, items needed to be dropped into a bubbling vat. The rest went into the washers, moving to another when the first was set going. It wasn’t the nicest job I’d ever had, but we kept at it until the earlier washing machines stopped. We transferred the clothes to the driers and then I had to pull the soiled items out of the vat and load the vacant washers. Our own things had been washed and dried, then put into the bags we had brought with us.
With all the machines chugging away, Cloe pressed a button by a door, and we left the laundry, going through doors that opened as we approached, until we were back in the canteen. There, we had a nice meal, a good bit of talking to the guards, and were then sent back to the laundry to finish the job. By the time we had emptied the last of the driers, I was feeling that I had really done a days’ work. I now understood the plight of girls in the women’s prisons who had to do this sort of work every day, usually washing hospital linen. When we were escorted back, we gave the big bag to Bull, and carried our own things into the cell to put away.
The big event on Sunday was the church service. It was very low-key, the only parishioners present being us six head wyfies. There was no communion, but the preacher did talk about doing right, which was probably something he did as a standard sermon, so making the authorities happy. Back in the cell I was happy to find that the slops had changed taste, to something like chicken.
Monday, we were back in the Library. As predicted, there was a bag of things for me to take, with a note on the when and how. The lunch was good, and the guards all commented on how good I would look when they next saw me. Monday night I took the gunk and spent much of the night on the latrine. Tuesday morning, I took the happy pills with a glass of water and was escorted back to the admin to await my fate.
It wasn’t long before a trusty, in orange hospital scrubs, came to take me out of the prison, and across the connecting road to the women’s prison, where we went through a number of doors to end up in a pre-operation room, where I joined six girls, all in differing states of consciousness. With my clothing in a marked bag, and wearing a hospital gown, I was on a bed and given an injection. One by one, the others were taken away, until I was the last. By this time, I didn’t give a damn what they were going to do to me.
The guy I had seen before came in and jabbed something into the back of my hand and I faded into blessed sleep. When I came round, I was on a bed in what looked like an ordinary hospital ward. A nurse gave me a sip of water and told me, in a very stern voice, not to speak until I was told I was able. There were tubes in my arms and a weight on my chest that hadn’t been there before. Both wrists were cuffed to the side-rails and all I could do was to lay there and recover my wits. I spent the time going back over my earlier life, remembering all the little details that I wanted to keep. Finally, happy that I had retained it all, I went off to sleep.
I woke, naturally, on Wednesday morning. Wondering why I didn’t need to pee, and then realised that I may have a catheter in my dick. My head felt better but I could feel the bandages around my chest, and a strange feeling in my throat. The nurse reminded me not to talk as she gave me a sip of water. Later on, she spoon fed me with something that looked like baby food. In the middle of the morning, there was a bustling along the ward as a man, who I thought may be Doctor Mark by his skin colour, looked at each of us, one by one, looking at the charts and giving instructions.
When he got to me, he smiled broadly.
“You’re looking good, Delia. Dirk asked me to give you the works, and I must say that I excelled myself. Don’t speak, I’ll tell you what we did. You now have a very nice set of ‘D’ sized breasts, they match your build and will look wonderful. I also gave you a tracheal shave and I threw in a couple of extras, as a bonus. You’ll see for yourself when you look in a mirror, but I can tell you that you will never need to buy cosmetics until you get let out. As long as you promise to stay still, I’ll ask that you get uncuffed, but any wrong move will have you cuffed again. This part of the prison is outside the wire and walls, so we take good care not to let you escape. Mind you, you won’t get far with the tubes in you.”
With that, he left the ward, no doubt heading for the theatre to continue his work. The nurse came to me and reminded me that I had to stay still, and to stay quiet, then undid the cuffs. Before she left me, she smiled.
“You’re a lucky girl in the making, dear. I’ve never seen a wyfie have as much done as you have. If Doctor Mark had gone any further, we would be sending you back to be with the other women. Just rest, you’ll be here a few more days.”
I nodded as she adjusted something on the drip, then I faded into an induced sleep, again. When I woke up again, it was dark, and a nurse came to give me some water and rearrange me on the bed. More comfortable I slept again, until I was woken by a nurse taking my blood pressure. She made notes and then took my temperature. I already had a pulse monitor clipped to a finger and she made sure everything was correct.
As she left, she put the clipboard on the bed. Once she was well away, I reached for it and looked at the papers. Buried, on the bottom of the pile, was a piece of paperwork that made me smile.
Authorisation and consent form.
I…. Delmore Edward Strauss… (a.k.a. Delia Strauss) …. Hereby authorise all medical procedures requested by …. Dirk Hender…. and absolve the surgeons and staff of the Pollsmoor Prison for any failings of the procedure that may become apparent post-operative.
It was signed D.E. Strauss and that was witnessed by a Miss Bella Olongo, company secretary of the Hender Charitable Foundation.
This was wrong on so many counts, it almost made me laugh out loud, until I remembered I wasn’t to talk. Firstly, the name was the one that I was using in Pretoria when I was arrested. It had good enough paperwork to make the police think that I was that person. The signature was one I was using at the time, and I had suspicions that the one on the form was a copy of the one on the check I had given my lawyer. Bella was, of course, wyfie number two.
What made me think was why they needed me to sign a form that absolved them of any wrongdoing. Surely, enhancement surgery was commonplace now. I didn’t know what part of me he had shaved, and I had not seen the results of the cosmetic additions he had spoken about. Perhaps he had turned me into some kind of monster. No, that couldn’t have been it, the nurses were all smiling and helpful.
The answers came just after the breakfast trays were taken away from the other patients. A tall, beautiful, dark girl, dressed in theatre scrubs came into the ward and straight up to my bed. She picked up the clipboard from where I had tossed it and read it through.
“Delia, I’m sure that you have a lot of questions about your procedure. I’ll have a look at your throat first and then you may be able to ask them.”
She got me to put my head back and unwrapped a bandage from my neck, then pulled away a dressing. She swiped it with a wipe and smiled.
“Excellent, you are a quick healer. Now, don’t force it, but say ‘Aarhh and Ooohh’ for me.
I did as she asked, and it sounded strange. It was almost as if I was now a soprano.
“Wonderful, now I will tell you exactly what went on in the theatre on Tuesday. The first thing we did, once you were stretched out and sleeping, was to have two technicians working on your face with a laser, to remove any hairs and stop any hairs returning. You will never have to shave again. While that was going on, Doctor Mark set up a liposuction around your stomach and lower chest area. These only need tiny incisions to get the suction tube in. We took out around two kilograms of fat, so you now have a smaller waistline than you had before.”
“The face I get, but why the fat bit?” Hell, I sounded like my last girlfriend.
“Right, this is where we get to the exciting part. Doctor Mark has developed a new way of doing breast enhancements. It involves taking fat from obese women and modifying it to not be toxic to another body. It also has extra ingredients, like a plant-based oestrogen supplement. He brought fifteen kilograms of this mix, and your two were mixed in with that before we went to the next phase. None of this is yet authorised by the government so it was good to have a willing, and worthy, person to try it out.”
“So, I’m a guineapig?”
“A very beautiful one, yes. The Femgel mix is then carefully injected into the places it’s needed. We put six and a half kilograms into each breast, and the rest was divided between your buttocks, sorry, I mean that each buttock got half the remainder. When we finished that, there was a while before we were certain that it would stay where we put it, so Doctor Mark tried out a new stain cosmetic treatment that he has devised, and I must say it looks fantastic!”
“What about the voice, I didn’t sound like this the other day?”
“Right, that was a little extra he did before he went home. He is a brilliant surgeon and a pleasure to watch. We don’t normally do that procedure here, but he has developed a keyhole method which he showed us, on you. Your voice now, is your voice for life, and it sounds nice.”
“So, what about the post-operative problems that may occur?”
“Those are straight forward. The Femgel that you have in your breasts and buttocks may migrate to other places, making you look odd. That is easily fixed with liposuction. The other thing that hasn’t shown in tests, is that it may harden with age, in which case it may have to be removed surgically. The cosmetic stain is long lasting but may fade and need to be renewed. The prison will allow you out, to be taken to his surgery, so that you can be checked over, say, about every three months. It’s so wonderful to have someone like you who is happy to let us do this and is going to be in a controlled environment for an extended time. I’m sure that it will look good on your parole interview.”
That said, she gave me a beaming smile and went off to speak to a nurse before heading out of the ward. The nurse came over to my bed.
“Delia, I’ve been told that we can prepare you for normal activity. I’ll be back to take out the drips and the catheter in a moment, then we can get you out of bed for a bit of a walk.”
While I waited for her to come back, I had a bit of a think. This bit with using one of my names made me think back to when I was a toddler. As far as my mother was concerned, I was either ‘Brat’ or ’Bastard’, I had the thought that I may have sometimes been called Jimmy when we were out. She made her money by spending a lot of time on her back. Later in life, when I finally asked if I had a father, she couldn’t decide which of her ten regulars or dozens of ‘walk-ins’ it may have been. When I was twelve, I ran away from home and lived on the edge for a few years.
I had basic schooling and could read and write so was a bit better off than a lot of the street kids. I did odd jobs and skirted with the law until a wonderful co-incidence dropped into my life. I was swabbing out an old warehouse in Merefong, for a few rand a day, when I walked in on a murder. Three gang members had killed another guy, a white one, and were discussing how they were going to dispose of the body. I piped up that I would do it, for a payment. They quickly agreed, put some notes in my hand and left with a small sack. I saw that they had cut off his head with a chainsaw and there was blood all over his shirt, but his pants were still clean. I stripped the body and set to work with the chainsaw, putting the bits into sacks. I then put the sacks on a cart and trundled it two blocks to a piggery, where I fed his bits to the pigs.
Back in the warehouse, I hosed off the crime scene and sprayed disinfectant. That’s when I discovered that it must have been a gang retribution, rather than a robbery. I had his watch, and I found that, in the jeans, I had his wallet and some more money. His identification could have been me, the birthday close to whatever mine may have been. He also had a student card and a letter that was his acceptance in a college, in Jo’burg. His parents will, undoubtedly, see his head and declare him dead, so I put on his pants and boots, dropped his other stuff into the incinerator bin, and went off to find my belongings in an old tree.
By the next day, I had hitched a ride to Jo’burg and found somewhere to put my head down in a cheap place in West Cliff. On the appointed day, I fronted up at the Business School and started some real education. I knew I was good with maths, so I signed on to a computer studies class, learning how to use computers with all of the various software modules. I found that I was also good with my English.
I got myself part-time jobs to pay my fees and eat, and graduated, three years later, with a certificate. I counted myself lucky that no-one had come around to see who it was who was using this identification. I became good enough, on the computer, to manufacture my own identification papers, printing certificates in three other names. I also did other paperwork in each name, borrowing another guys driving licence to produce a false one, his payment being a couple in names that he had given me.
That done, I took a train to Durban, where the previous papers were destroyed, and a new person began looking around for something to do. I was working as a bartender, one night, when two real estate agents were talking. They were discussing how you can describe a place to make it sell quickly. I was close enough to say that I thought that would be easy. One pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of a kraal.
“Describe that, if you can.”
“Well, I would say that it’s a quaint, typical older home, with period features in a lovely country setting where you can wake to the sounds of the birds and step out to see the local wildlife.”
“Wow, I’d even buy that one, myself. Tell me you have more than a bartender qualification and I’ll offer you a job.
“I do have a certificate in Business Studies from the Jo’burg Business School. I can handle all of the current computer packages.”
He slid his card across the bar.
“Come and see me tomorrow to prove it and you can start straight away.”
So, that’s how I got into real estate. I was able to settle in quickly, making up the advertising material and writing copy. After three years there, I decided that I could make more money selling, than helping someone else make the money while paying me a salary. I left and went to Port Elizabeth to start my life of crime. From there it was zigzagging across the county. Cape Town, Bloemfontein, Kimberley, Jo’burg, Pretoria, then back to Durban for a while. I was in the process of going around the other way when I was arrested.
I was a saver, not spending unless I had to, and I ended up with a bank account in every place, all under fictitious names, as well as safe deposit boxes in most places. The two keys that were safely packed away in the prison storage, contained all of my identifications in one box, and all of the other keys, plus some cash, in the other. I realised, now, that the only papers that I could now use were the ones I had created for Holly Martin, the tomboy estate agent. The pictures would have to be changed, though.
When the nurse came back, she proceeded to strip all of the drips, cannulas and recording attachments. Then it was the lovely part, having the catheter removed. After that, she got me to swing my legs off the bed and try to stand. That’s when I found that my centre of balance had shifted, considerably. With some help, I was able to walk to the shower room and she removed the bandages from my chest before I went under. I was amazed at how lifelike my breasts were, and also how sensitive they were under the spray. I was able to wash my hair and she wrapped me in a soft towel when I got out. She then opened a cupboard door that had a full-length mirror inside, so I could, finally, look at my new self.
If my dick had been working, I would have given myself a woodie. The face was that of a goddess. The skin was smooth, and they had removed my eyebrows, replacing them with arches of smoky black stain, that was matched by the stain on my eyelids. I now had a kissable pout, with a dark red pair of lips. The breasts were quite magnificent, and there was only the odd patch on my body to cover the tiny incisions. When I turned sideways, I could see immediately the difference in my butt. With the smaller waist, I was not quite hourglass but damn near close to it.
After I had dried, the nurse handed me a nightie and dressing gown, the led me back to my bed. I had to admit, to myself, that there was no going back, now. I had become the wyfie to shame all wyfies.
Marianne Gregory © 2023
Chapter 4
I was another few days in that ward, moving better and finding my new balance. I ate well and began to feel good about myself. I felt a lot better after a visit by a ward hairdresser. I was now issued with a whole new outfit, plus a bag with two complete spares. The dress wasn’t just one altered from a jump suit. No, it was from the women’s prison and shaped to fit a woman with my attributes.
On Sunday morning, I gave everyone an air kiss, thanked them for their kindness, and was escorted back, across the road, and into the men’s side again. Being church today, I was taken there and left to talk to the preacher until Euni brought Cloe. The reaction, on seeing me, was identical. First, there was the “No, they haven’t sent a woman here, have they?” to the “My God, it’s Delia!” Then the hugs and air kisses. The preacher gave me a note to read, in private, before the other girls arrived. I read it and gave it back to him. Forsooth, I thought, there are dark deeds afoot.
When Cloe arrived, she broke down and cried. I held her and said soothing things until she settled.
“Oh! Delia, what a change. It made me realise that I can become a real woman in a few weeks. Dirk has told me that I’ve an appointment at a clinic in the city. I wish that I had been given the same treatment, my bruises took weeks to totally fade.”
“What has been done to me is mainly experimental. Doctor Mark has developed something using body fat, and I could find myself with rock hard tits, or else they may want to go travelling, giving me huge shoulder blades. I just have to wait and see. I was chosen for this because I’m here and because they had a forged acceptance form, signed off by Bella.”
We were stopped as the other wyfies arrived, with a flurry of long hair and air kisses, and much appraisal of my new look. The service was short and simple, based on the parable of the lost sheep, and the two of us were held back for communion. Once we were able, we took the wafers out and tucked them in our bras. I wondered if it had any link to the note I had read.
When Euni came to take us outside, he nearly fell over when he saw me. Then he started laughing. He was still chuckling when he shut the door behind us a Bluto and Pluto stood in front of us with their chins almost on the ground. I walked up to them.
“Hi, there, boys. If you thought that the old me was fun, just wait until we’re next in the yard. What you see is what I got, so you’d better get used to it.”
I gave each of them a kiss on the cheek and we then went back towards our cells. Instead of silence as we walked by, it was a cacophony of whoops, whistles, and comments, none too ribald as they were afraid that Dirk might be angry, terminating their sentence - prematurely. Cloe and I walked, arm in arm, but, when we arrived near the cells, she let go and walked behind me. Bull was standing there, his mouth hanging open when he caught sight of me.
Dirk even came out of his cell, hearing the sound that followed us along the corridor. He took one long look at me, and I could see the lust in his eyes. As we reached our little homeland, he just said. “Tonight, after the meal.”
We gave Bull the wafers to pass on. In our cell, Cloe took me by the hand and told me that she thought that her final week here would be better than she thought, with me going to take over her place. We sat at the table, and I had to tell her the whole story of my times since I left, on Tuesday morning. The slops tasted something like pork, today. The afternoon went too quickly, for me, preparing for my evening appointment. I stripped off and had a flannel wash, the door being shut for this. I did the enema treatment and sat around until it worked, then was very careful with the lube, making sure it was only where it was supposed to be.
After the evening meal, I wore only the dress, made sure I looked my best, gave Cloe a hug, and opened the door to see Spike standing guard. In his eyes I saw something different to Dirk. He stepped to me and held me close.
“Outside, you’ll be mine, Delia. Never doubt that!”
He then let me go and I went to Dirk’s cell, knocking on the door as I went in. He was sitting on one of his chairs, with a book on the table. Cloe must have brought it to him during the week. It wasn’t a weighty tome, no, it was a large-print children’s story. He saw me looking.
“Yes, Delia, this is one of my secrets. Cloe has been helping me learn to read, and you’ll be taking over. It’s one of the problems of growing up in a township, then doing everything since with verbal threats and orders. You wouldn’t know, coming from a white neighbourhood.”
“You’re a long way out, Dirk. My mother was a prostitute, and I spent my first ten years in a township, before I ran away to be on the street. My learning is something I had to work at, I only had basic schooling before I was a teenager. I read that book in a library, and it helped me move on in life. There are books that we can get in that will help you as you get better at reading.”
“Well, you are a surprise! Now, come and sit here and help me with a few words.”
So, I became his teacher for an hour. He then pushed his chair back.
“That’s enough of that. Now, my sweet Delia, come and sit on my lap.”
I got up and went around the table. If he was expecting me to sit across his lap, he was going to be mistaken. I bent over to give him a kiss, and then straddled him, so that we were face to face. We kissed for a while and I felt him harden, beneath me. I raised myself and felt for the buttons on the jump suit, freeing his cock. As I hadn’t put any panties on, I just lowered myself onto him and he growled as he penetrated my well-lubed anus.
We took it slow and easy. With me facing him, my breasts ready to be touched, there was no way he would think that I was anything else but his woman. He unbuttoned the top of my dress, and my breasts spilled out, ready for his lips to enjoy as I leaned back a bit to give him room. I think that he was enjoying himself, I knew that I wasn’t averse to this easy loving. I squeezed his cock with my muscles as we rocked backwards and forwards, until I could feel that he wanted to take over. I rose a little and he started pumping in and out until he finally came with a spurt, so strong I could feel it inside me. After that he buried his head between my breasts and we stayed like that for a while, with me stroking his head.
My head was full of odd thoughts. Here I was, with the cock of the most feared gangster in town inside me, slowly deflating, after teaching him to read for an hour. Tonight, was certainly not what I had expected. I knew that if any word of this got out, I would be dead within the hour. Not only that, Cloe and the other wyfies were in the same spot. It put a little extra on the note that Bella had sent me. “C sez U OK, Will meet you at check-up”. This man I was sitting on had dark clouds swirling around him that he didn’t know about. I still had seven years of this before I could get clear.
We sat like that, and I could feel his sobs and the dampness of his tears in my cleavage. Finally, he got control of himself and leaned back, looking me straight in the eyes.
“I’m sorry, Delia, for acting like a weakling. You are so good at being a woman, you remind me of one of my wives, outside. She was a mother hen, wrapped in a whore’s body. It’s been a long time since I’ve been loved like that. The other girls have been good and allowed me to have my way with them. It’s been a relief, and much of it has been good, but tonight showed me that there is also compassion in the world that I’ve missed. Now, get up and clean us up, you can go and get a good sleep tonight, you’ve earned it.”
I took a wiper from the table and lifted myself off of him. I wiped him first and then went to his latrine area to use some toilet paper on my butt, then sitting on his latrine to let his semen drain. He had certainly been saving it up. With my dress buttoned, I gave him a kiss and left the cell, Spike giving me a mournful smile as I went back into my cell. Cloe was waiting for me.
“He told you his reading secret?”
I nodded. “That means I join a small band of death row prisoners if it got out.”
“Don’t worry about that. If you keep him happy, we’ll think of something. I’m worried that he will have us killed when he’s free again, just to stop the secret from getting out. While he’s here he can cover his tracks. I think that he’s been so good to his ex-wyfies to keep us quiet. I’m looking forward to having a good talk with the other two, once I’m free, without any guards, enforcers or sneaks trying to listen in.”
I looked up from my post-coital enema and grinned.
“I have to have regular check-ups to make sure my enhancements remain as they were intended. Bella has sent a note that she will catch up when I’m out of here at the surgery. They can’t expect a guard to be by my side while I’m being inspected. If you join her, in scrubs and a mask, the guard won't know who you are.”
“That sounds like a plan. I’m just realising that this time, next week, I’ll be leaving this place. It’s been my home for eight years, more than seven as Cloe. I’ve sent a message to Amy to come and get me, and to bring me some suitable clothes. I can see the grins on the guards faces when they tell me to hand in my jump suit and get into my things that are in storage. I wouldn’t fit into them, now.”
“A question. If Dirk finds it hard to read, how does he get the information in and out if he can’t read the messages, or even write new ones?”
“That’s easy. Bull can read the messages; he was the one who devised the code. It’s a straightforward mix of Zulu and Xhosa, with a rotating letter substitution, changing each week. Unimportant notes are just in Afrikaans. What ones do you know, you’re good in here with your Zulu?”
“I can get by with all three, the township where I grew up was mostly Xhosa, but it was mix of the other two when I was living in Jo’burg. I was wondering which one I should use if I want to send you a message, that’s all. Another question; how long will the other guys be in here for?”
“You know that Dirk gets out at about the same time as you. Bull will be out in another five years, Spike is out in three, while the other two are lifers, you don’t want to know what crimes they committed, they say it took days to clean up the blood, it was so deep they had to soak it up with sawdust.”
I was ready for bed, so we opened up the door again, whispered goodnight to Spike and Cloe went to her bunk. I stayed by the door so that Spike could give me a toe-curling goodnight kiss, then closed the door and got into the upper bunk. I laid there for a while before I could get to sleep, wondering whether my life could get any crazier.
On Monday morning we had our breakfast and made ready for our trip to the library. Thinking about it, I wondered if Dirk knew of our lunches with the guards. Today, I was the one in charge of the hessian bag, which Bull gave me. Then it was back through the block to the outside, with the accompanying comments. You would have thought that they had never seen a woman before.
In the library, we went through the motions of selecting older books for the outgoing messages and emptied the incoming messages from the new books. I gave Cloe the names of some books I thought Dirk could use and she made a list to send out. As she wrote, I was looking at her and saw something different, today.
“What’s wrong, Cloe, you seem down.”
“It’s just that I can’t help thinking about having the sex change surgery. I know that Amy and Bella had theirs done by a guy that Dirk paid, but they’ve both complained, in private notes, that it wasn’t a total job, just cosmetic. Neither can have good sex, and that’s something I would like.”
“While you’ve got that pencil, send Bella a note with these numbers I will give you.”
She wrote down the account number and password number of a bank account I had set up at the Absa Bank in Woodstock. I told her that the account was in the name of Mandel, and she grinned. She coded the message for Bella to collect some cash for her when she gets out.
“That’s for some good clothing for you. There’s enough in there, I think, to buy you a decent wardrobe, as well as pay for a proper operation. This is just one of many accounts I set up when I was working in various cities. I wasn’t a big spender, so it just sort of built up.”
She gave me the hardest hug I had ever received and thanked me. We then went for lunch. This time it was mayhem, the canteen with a lot more guards than before. They all wanted to see me and talk to me, all saying I was even better looking than their wives, girlfriends, and mistresses. I had to laugh, the scuttlebutt in the prison was that Dirk was now so powerful, he had imported a proper woman to look after him. No wonder the comments had been so ribald.
The room went silent, and I looked up from the guard I was talking to, to see a bull of a man, in a good suit. He motioned to me to come with him, and I followed him to the room where I had been checked over. I was wondering if I was now expected to service the authorities but breathed a sigh of relief when he gestured for me to sit down.
“Delmore, my name is Marshall, you may have heard of me. I am in charge of this block. You have been an interesting addition to our little family. I know that you were sent here on the request of Dirk. I don’t know how he saw what a beauty you would turn out to be. I am just going to ask you to make sure that he does not cause any trouble over the next seven years. I’ll be close to retirement age, by then, and I don’t give a damn what happens after that. If you do that, I’ll make sure that your time with us will be as good as I can make it. If we have a riot, and I find out that you could have stopped it, then you’ll be transferred to the women’s prison. I can tell you that after a few days there, you will be wishing you were back here. Those girls can teach Dirk a thing or two about cruelty.”
“I can assure you, sir, that I want to make the seven years go as easily as I can. I expected to be raped and dead within a day or two, and being here, looking like I do, was never something that I had even dreamed about.”
“Right, you just follow the plan, and all will be good. Don’t tell any of the others about this, I’m going to send your friend to another area, today, to see out her last week in comparative comfort. She has been a good companion for Dirk. Someone will be by later today to pick up anything she wants to take with her, we’ll ask her that when we go back into the canteen.”
He then opened the door and I rose, and he followed me as we went back to the canteen, all the doors opening automatically as we approached them. In the canteen he took Cloe aside and spoke to her for a few minutes. When he left, the atmosphere in the canteen lightened, and Cloe came over to me with tears in her eyes.
“Delia, it’s all coming true! He’s sending me to a half-way section where I’ll be wearing normal clothes and being able to have visitors. Can you send out a message to Bella that she can come in and visit during the week? She will be able to bring me something that will be mine to keep. I can’t thank you enough for your generosity. Goodbye for now, darling Delia. All the luck in the world for the next seven years.”
“Before you go, Cloe, I want to thank you for all the help that you have given me since I arrived. I will ask you a favour, though. When you’re outside, can you look around for a good lawyer for me. I think that the sentence I was given was ordered by Dirk. I wonder if a lawyer can get my case looked at with an eye to getting it reduced. If that happened, Dirk can’t do anything if I suddenly get let out, as sudden as you are, now. It will give me something to hope for.”
“Certainly, that’s something that I would love to do. I know that Amy has some contacts in the legal side.”
We hugged again and I was let out to go back to the library. After adding the new message to Bella, in plain Afrikaans, I went through the motions with the other wyfies, cleaned the toilet, put a book into the hessian bag, and waited for Eunie to take me back to the yard. I was now on my own, a shemale in a prison with the block manager looking down to see that I do the right thing. I was now balanced on two knife edges. It was going to be an interesting life!
Back at our corner, I gave Bull the notes and took the bag, with my book, into the cell. I then went back out and knocked on Dirks cell door. When he looked up, I quietly informed him that Cloe had been taken to a holding area prior to her release. He thanked me and said that she had been good to him, over the years.
Tuesday was a free one, and I spent some time reading the book I had brought back with me. It was a self-help one about finding opportunities to set up businesses. It had sat there, on the shelf, calling my name. I didn’t have Cloe to talk to, now, so was going to have to find my own enjoyment. No-one had come to collect any of her things, yesterday. I could understand that. If she had a new world to look forward to, she wouldn’t want her old prison issue undies, and there was nothing else she had that was personal. I spent a little time going through her drawer, and checking the cupboard, to make sure I knew where everything was. With Cloe ordering extra over the last two weeks, I had more than enough enema packs to last for months. The only thing I found was a small book under her mattress. It was one of those women’s tear-jerkers. That was something I transferred to the bag to go back on the shelf. With her things, I now had a good supply of undies, jump suit dresses, and my own women’s issue dresses. I had the shaver, and quietly giggled at the thought of asking Spike to check my back for stray hairs.
After midday slops, it got to yard time. I made sure that I looked my best when Dirk knocked on the door for me to join him. If the rumour mill had it that I was a woman smuggled in, I intended to own that concept. With me on his arm, we went out into the yard. There seemed a lot of guys who wanted to talk to him, today. The twins and I swapped smiles. I was starting to like them, and we had short talks in the Library, nothing too deep with the other two wyfies from the 28’s in the room. One of them whispered to me.
“Go to the grill before slops, we can stand there for a while, our husband won’t bother us. He wants us to be friends, so that he can pass private news to Dirk. Other than here, they cannot be seen talking, that could raise the tensions in the prison.”
I could understand that. With the three gangs, each having sub-gangs and factions along racial lines, anything that looked like deep conversation would set off waves of hate, fear, and jealousy through the place.
After yard time, I spent some time reading, and then quietly walked to the point where the corridors met. They were there, on their side, leaning against the wall next to the corner. I was told to stay out of sight, and they talked to each other in normal voices, while I spoke to one in whispers, while the other spoke out loud. The two, Sandy and Suzie, were switched on, having been wyfies to their gang leader for a few years. They would take it in turns to service him, which kept him happy. Sandy had a small scar on her arm, which allowed me to know which one I was talking to.
We spoke for about twenty minutes. I learned that it had been quiet for some months, but there was tension among the 28’s. I had noticed that, today, in the yard, and now found out that there were a number of wyfies who were demanding to be shown more respect. Suzie warned me not to be shocked at future yard times, as the alpha males were not going to bow to that sort of talk.
That evening, Dirk just wanted to talk while we went through the book. I told him that I had put in an order for more interesting books which would help him. After about two hours, he gave me a tender kiss and bade me goodnight. I wondered if he was at the point where something like a normal relationship was what he really wanted.
Spike was standing next to my door when I went back to the cell.
“Did he?”
“Not tonight, Spike.”
“Good, then tonight you’re mine.”
He closed the door and came into the cell with me, shucking his jump suit as he came up to me. I had dropped the dress and was ready when he lifted me onto the edge of the table and kissed me, while his cock found the well-lubed entrance to my anus. I had my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he pounded into me with as much force as he could muster. He came with a huge shudder, and, for the very first time, I came at the same time. Once again, we had been keeping it quiet by kissing the whole time.
We stayed like that, entwined, for a few minutes before he whispered into my ear.
“I love you, Delia, I want you to go all the way when you get out and be my wife.”
“What about Dirk?”
“Don’t you worry about him; I’ll think of something. He doesn’t know it, but his authority isn’t as good, on the outside, as it was before he came here. There are a few who can’t wait for his release day.”
Marianne Gregory © 2023
Chapter 5
After we had cleaned ourselves, he went back out into the corridor, smiling to himself. I did an enema sluice, then got up into my bunk and tried to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he had given me a soft ejaculation during our love making. I wondered if it was the pills that I was taking.
It was odd, not having Cloe to talk to, but I could now have short conversations with the twins. Thursday was Library day, and the guards were their usual cheerful gang. I was starting to get to know them by name; even Tony, who was on the screens at this time of the day. I passed on the news that some of the 28 wyfies might be in for a rough time. They told me that they couldn’t intervene in gang problems but would let the medics know to be ready.
Over the next weeks, I fell into a sort of a rhythm. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday was Library and a good lunch. Saturday was laundry, Sunday was church. Other afternoons if I was at the cell, I was on the arm of Dirk in the yard. Between the twins and the guards, I grew in my perception of the way the prison ran. Dirk continued to learn to read, concentrating on Zulu words for a start, with me swapping books as he progressed. He only wanted sex about twice a week, and I restricted Spike to once a week, lest I became too loose. I was already using a tampon, but never wanted to need a pad as well.
I was also getting some sense from the notes, now I knew how they were coded. I made sure that I talked to Bull, Pluto, and Bluto, as normal people. They, gradually, became quite friendly. I read my book, going back to a couple of chapters, and an idea formed in my brain.
Then, wonders of wonders, it was the day of my check-up. I was collected at my cell, by one of the guards. On the way through the outer area, he told me that I was supposed to be handcuffed when I was outside and taken there and back in a prison van. Instead, because no-one now thought I could be a flight risk, he had signed a normal car out. On top of that, he had raided the half-way house cupboard and found a blue dress in my size. I changed in the garage toilet, and we left the prison, me sitting in the front with him driving.
It was truly wonderful to see the outside world, and the amount of people, and colour, almost made me cry. We spoke about things we saw as he drove, very carefully, to the clinic. There, we got out of the car, and I was enveloped in hugs from Cloe, now looking radiant in a colourful dress.
“Delia, it’s so good to see you, you look really good.”
“Thanks, Cloe, it’s all Bruce’s doing, finding this dress, and getting the car. I would have hated getting here in a prison van with handcuffs on.”
She led us into the clinic, where Bruce was shown a comfortable chair and the cake tin. He gave me a wink as I was led away to the consulting rooms.
“I don’t know how you do that, you’ve got Bruce under your thumb, there. I suppose that all the guards give you a kiss, after lunch?”
“You betcha, it’s the only way to make that place acceptable. Other than that, it’s all much the same as it used to be. Now, tell me all your news.”
“Oh! Delia. With that money from the account, I was able to get a proper sex change operation, and a nice wardrobe. The other two are so jealous. Between us, we are operating the business, but it isn’t the one that Dirk left. Most of the soldiers have deserted to join other gangs, mainly because their lives depended on it. We’re down about sixty percent. We’re not sure what we can do to make it better.”
“I know one way, that’s by going legitimate. This city is growing, and so is the need for buildings. I’ve got a little idea that could give us a legal front that could also give us a way to keep in with all the other gangs. If we get a chance, I’ll run it by you and Bella.”
She led me into the consulting room and told me to strip. I was on the bed when the door opened and three people walked in. Two, I knew, Doctor Mark and the beautiful assistant who had spoken to me in the ward. The other, I took to be Bella. She came over to the bed and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“Welcome to the outside world, Delia. It’s so good to finally meet you. Amy and I are so grateful to you for giving Cloe the opportunity to have a proper operation. All we got was being castrated, our dicks glued down and the skin pulled up to look like a vagina. It allows us to be female, but that’s about all.”
“Don’t worry, Bella, I’ll give you the access to another account, before I leave, and you’ll both be able to have the proper operations.”
Doctor Mark coughed, and we stopped talking so he could fully inspect me, to make sure that my enhancements remained where they should have been. It took nearly an hour before he declared that he was amazed. Not only had his work remained pliable and in the right place, but he was also sure that my own body had added some extra fat in the right places. He had taken all the usual measurements and told me that I was in excellent health. He left us so I could get dressed, and I gave Bella the access details to an account I had opened in the Standard Bank at Pinelands. This one was in the name of Rhodes, and I knew that it should have more than the other one.
Before I was taken back to Bruce, I asked Bella if she could look in the Cape Town papers for advertisements from the government, requesting tenders for building projects, especially ones involving large concrete requirements. She agreed, then told me that she had given my details to a lawyer and would let me know how that progressed the next time she saw me.
I was driven back to the prison and had to change back into my orange dress before being led back to the cell. It was not a happy time, after being almost free, but I knew that it would be just another three months before I was outside, again.
I settled back into the rhythm of the prison, learning more about the workings as time went by. I was able to send my own messages to Bella and got her replies back in the books. One message was personally delivered by the preacher, who told me that I had done a wonderful and selfless act by helping someone I had only met once. He told me that the last time he had spoken to Amy and Bella, they had both been given the proper sex-change and were happy. I was now closely knit with a group of people who were working towards getting a genuine life going. With Amy, Bella, and Cloe on my side, with the preacher firmly with them, plus the growing influence I was having over Spike and Bull, we worked hard to keep Dirk believing that his authority was still respected in Cape Town.
The odd thing was that I also had the support from the enforcer’s leader, through the twins. It was in his interest to let Dirk believe that he a was still top dog, as he had plans of his own when he was released, a few years before Dirk. It was his gang that had gained most of Dirks deserters.
The months passed, and the check-ups went like clockwork. Bruce was my regular driver, and was now being given a meal, in a restaurant, with me and the other three, all he already knew from their time in the prison. This allowed me to go with one or more, to the toilet, and pass notes or discuss more private things.
Amy assured me that the lawyer wanted to meet me on the next visit, as he had found that the judge had been bribed to give me the sentence that matched Dirk’s release date, and that much of the evidence against me had been circumstantial. The only thing they could get me on was the attempted sale of the police station. I had chosen Asian marks, as they would never admit to making a mistake, causing loss of face, and none of the ones they had located would agree to making a formal complaint.
On the next visit, I had two things to cheer me up. The first was that the lawyer was in the consulting rooms, after we had left Bruce behind, and he was adamant that he could have me free inside two years. He needed money and I gave Bella the access details to an account I had in Port Elizabeth, that had enough to pay him. The other thing was that I was told that the government had put out tender papers for a huge project, in the docks. They were planning to construct new wharves for the larger container ships.
She had some papers to be filled in, so I quickly sketched out a plan to build the wharves, something that I had spent a lot of my spare time thinking about. For seed money, I gave her the access details of two more accounts, both in Jo’burg, a place that had been my best hunting ground. I described how we would build the wharves, using concrete blocks of about twenty tonnes each, with lifting lugs so they could be moved easily. I asked her to find us somewhere near the wharf site that was big enough for us to set up a plant.
Over the next few weeks, I set up a discussion with Headbanger, the enforcer gang leader. I explained what we were working towards on the outside, and when I got to how it would help him, he was impressed enough to agree to a funding package.
I was three years into my time when the appeal case was heard. It took a few weeks before all the paperwork was finalised. I had cleared my cell of all the things that needed to be put back, all the books I had borrowed. One day, when I was having lunch with the guards, Marshall joined us, and announced that I was going directly to the half-way house area, to see out my last two weeks of incarceration. There was much jollity, tinged by a little sadness from those who I now considered to be friends.
As far as Dirk was concerned, he would have to be celibate for the next four years, or else find a replacement for me. I knew, more than most, that his reach outside these walls were not enough to worry me. I was escorted to another area, closer to the outside, with an open door to a fenced yard, where I made sure I walked several laps, every day. Cloe brought me some clothes to wear that fitted my new persona, and the three girls were there to greet me when the gates opened to let me walk free. I was carrying my original suitcase and the bag of very mouldy clothes that I had last seen a long time ago.
It was then a whirlwind of activity. I was shown the site that Bella had found. All we needed to do was to sign the lease. The rates were very good, because it was of a size, and in a place, that made it difficult to rent out. Bella had been given verbal agreements on the project, so we employed a civil engineering firm to put together the official plans. I was three days in their offices, discussing the way I had worked out the project. It took longer to get them to accept that a woman was able to come up with the system, than it took for them to be happy with the system itself.
What I proposed was a simple method. There would be a sub-contractor who would build up a rock base, with a level concrete area. We would supply concrete blocks, about three metres cubed, with embedded lifting lugs that made them easy to move with cranes. These would be set out in a number of lines as the wharf grew, and the space between filled with rocks and slurry. The lines would be at a spacing that would suit the tracks of travelling cranes once the wharves were completed.
The engineers wanted to know how we would make the blocks, so I sketched them a simple system. It consisted of a table which could be vibrated, and four walls that would be hinged and able to be locked in place to create a box. The lugs would be set into one side, attached to a frame of reinforcing rod, with wooden framework to keep the concrete from covering them. All it needed, then, was a big concrete pour and some time to let it set. When the walls were dropped, a crane could pick up the block from the lugs in one side, which then became the top.
They got a block made to my specification and then were happy to put their name on the proposal. We would need them to set up the plant, and also devise the way to finish the wharf facing, with the mooring detail and buffers. We did the initial calculations and our timing to complete the project came in a year earlier than the government expected.
I then had to fit in a genuine sex-change operation to complete my transition. I was living with Cloe in an apartment, and we spent a lot of our spare time shopping and drinking tea in cafes. It took a month for me to set up a bank account as Delia Strauss and Bella then drove me to various banks to access the other accounts that I had squirrelled away, putting the money in my new account.
The last thing that I did was to remove the heels from the shoes that were in the case. I did that side of things on my own. The two banks were in Jo’burg, so I flew there to do my business. The box of identification papers was as I had left it. Most of the paperwork was destroyed in a short-term rental office, using a cheap shredder. I kept the Holly papers. The other box had a large amount of cash, which I transferred to an account that I opened in the same bank. The box had been left under the Holly name, and I came out of there with cards in that name and the good wishes from the bank manager.
This would be my escape plan, should I ever need it. With the collection of bank deposit keys, I flew home. Back in Cape Town we moved ahead at a faster pace, now aided by Spike, who we had picked up at the prison. He and I moved into our own place, and he made sure that my new equipment didn’t close up. I was glad that he was happy with normal sex and didn’t need to take me in the fashion that worked in the past. He hadn’t been sure about the other gang being involved but smiled when I explained how it would work. We didn’t have much of a gang left, and we needed the others to ensure our safety.
He had told me that Dirk was sad when he found out that I had been sprung but had found another lad in his side of the prison that filled his immediate needs. Two years later, Bull joined our little band and quickly came on board once his future was outlined. By that time, we had set up the production line and was supplying sixty blocks a day to the wharf site. We were legitimate and making good money. As none of it needed to be paid for by debt, we were ahead of any competitor.
We were subjected to several inspections by the authorities, and all were happy with our safety and employee relations. We did have a larger than usual number of gang members on the payroll, but we had no tensions, Headbanger made sure of that. He, and the twins, were now free and considered friends.
The wharf project was likely to continue for another three years, and Dirk was going to come out before that. The timing couldn’t be better. Bull and Spike, having been in the gang before Dirk was put away, had met his genuine wives, so they were sent off to talk to them. When they reported back, they told us that only three of his five wives were alive, and none of the three wanted him back in their lives. In fact, this made what we had planned even easier.
A year later, we had won a contract to set up for a wharf project in Durban, and there was another in Port Elizabeth that was in discussion. We had become directors of a very successful company, with the civil engineering firm growing with us. I had used what was left in my old deposit boxes to fund our expansion and Headbanger went to both cities, with his sidekicks, to talk seriously to the gangs there.
On the day that Dirk was freed, we were there to greet him at the gates. He was staggered to see the four of us, all in our finery. We had two cars, with Spike driving one and Bull driving the other. He was put in the back of the one Bull was driving, Amy and Bella with him, and his bag in the back.
We had agreed that Amy and Bella were going to convince him to see the wonderful business we had created. Sure enough, Spike followed the other car as it went directly to the concrete plant. When we all got out and stood outside the quiet plant, he wanted to know what we were doing here. I gave him a rough outline of the project, how legitimate it was, and roughly how much money we made. All he could do was complain that we had to pay taxes.
Spike opened the door, and we all went in. The plant was quiet, as we had given the employees the afternoon off, being ahead in our block deliveries. The gang members would be in on afternoon shift to continue production. We walked to one of the casting tables, and I explained how the blocks were made, showing him the big mesh framework ready to go on the table. It was meshing horizontal levels, attached to single rod verticals. The idea was that, when it was enclosed in concrete, then lifted through ninety degrees, the close mesh would become the weight support, which would allow a large crane to travel on tracks attached to the top level.
He was gazing at it all, trying to take it all in, when I moved in front of him and kissed him.
“Dirk, all of this was possible because you chose me as your wyfie. We are all grateful for your kindness and want you to be part of this enterprise.”
I then held his face in my hands and bent to kiss him again when Spike came up behind him and pushed a cooking skewer into his ear and wiggled it about to turn his brain into mush. I had been told, by Spike, while we were on a shopping trip for kitchen implements, how he had really achieved his name. Dirk dropped like a poleaxed steer. That’s when a door to an office, above us, opened and his three remaining wives, Headbanger and the, now genuine, sisters, came down. They had watched it all through the window.
It only took moments to strip Dirk of his clothing, then we ceremonially lifted him and slid him onto the middle layer of mesh. Bull then went off to start up the overhead crane. While he was away, one of the wives climbed up onto the top of the mesh cube and pissed on her husband. The mesh was lifted onto the plate and the sides were lifted into place and locked. Bull then took the crane to where we made the concrete and came back with a container of pre-mix. I started the vibrator as he allowed the concrete to pour into the box. When he had finished, we put the unwanted clothes into an incinerator bin where we burned the wood offcuts from the lug surrounds.
Switching off the vibrator, we all stood and considered what we had done. One of the wives said it succinctly.
“Welcome back to the new world, Dirk. You are an integral part of this enterprise, now. Dinner, tonight, is on me, my friends. Let us toast the passing of one of the worst men I’ve ever known, and I’ve known a few, I can tell you.”
Dirk had been let into the secret that allowed us to be friends with Headbanger and his gang contacts. About one block in two hundred contained bodies, all poured by trusted members of his gang, working night shift. My first experience of hiding a body had given me the idea, and the government, with the project, had provided the perfect method. We provided the opportunity, free of charge, and I think that Headbanger charged others to make the bodies disappear.
We all had a lively meal, with lots of wine and laughter. We had agreed on a story, should anyone ask, that we had taken Dirk to his favourite wife, had a few drinks and left him there. She would claim that he had gone out, the next night, never to return. She took his case and wallet home with her as proof that he had stayed with her.
As the years passed, our business remained a good money-maker. It allowed us all to live in comfort, buying an empty block near the sea and building five homes on it, all with top appliances, good views, and enough space to make them secure. Spike and I lived in one, Cloe and her new husband (one of our trusted workers) in another. Amy and Bella had found a couple of guys who worked in the civil engineering firm and lived in two of the others. Bull lived in the last one, having married the wife who had climbed the mesh and pissed on Dirk.
No-one came looking for Dirk, and his name passed into history, but not as a legend, more a nasty stain on the page of gangsters in Cape Town. Headbanger and the twins were set up a few miles away, and he was surprised when the city fathers declared him the most reformed convict of the year, then gave him a certificate.
I kept putting money aside in the Holly account, just in case, and kept the identification up to date with new photos. It came in handy on the day that we needed to expand the business into a new quay project in Angola.
We had a company meeting and Spike and I volunteered to go and set it up. We used that nest egg to fund the purchase of an abandoned factory and a nice home in Luanda, with our engineering company setting up the plant. They leased the factory from me. Eventually, we sold our shares in the South African plants to the civil engineering company, now a well-known and prosperous organisation, with branches all over Africa.
The others followed suit and we all did very well out of it. I considered that I had done well enough. We never went back to South Africa, it now had nothing we needed. I had my loving husband and a quiet life as a well-dressed woman of means, a pillar of local society and someone who was invited to all the best parties. Not bad for the bastard son of a township whore!
Marianne Gregory © 2023