Semi-Fresh Meat

SMOKEY SAGAS #17:

"Semi-Fresh Meat"

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Dear Readers!

Well.

Though considerably shorter than many others, the LesBDSM envelope's now been pushed out of sight with this story.

I know I've said this with others previously written, but once more, as of this writing, I've gone beyond my previous limits of wickedness and violence—and profanity—in this sinistory. Had this story a rating as with movies, it would be XXRRRXX.

So again, I urge you, progress with caution.

My last several even-numbered stories have been nice and benevolent and loving and heartfelt (and sexy).

My last several odd-numbered stories—including this one—have been evil and naughty and sinister and sadistic (and sexy).

So if you have a weak stomach, you may wish to skip this story—not that it exceeds all known limits of extreme, but it's not very tame either—it's really rather mean, actually—and come back when I have published #18, which is going to be a nice, sweet story with a lot of love and tenderness, as per this pattern I've been on.

If, on the other hand, you like really BAD girls, and devilishly cruel female-driven stories with not-so-happy endings involving semi-outlandish BDSM and intense physical and mental torture, then by all means, rock on!

***

***

Okay, you've had your warning. *evil smile*

Proceed.

***

July 25th, 3:17 p.m.

The PTV arrived in front of the state women's penitentiary to let off a single prisoner, escorted inside by two female guards.

Wasting no time, they led her straight to the cell. "A'right, bitch, strip it down," one of the guards ordered.

The to-be inmate pulled off her garments one at a time, feistily whipping each of them at the guards. She was only a tiny bit nervous about having to take her clothes off in front of these two. She wasn't the most easily intimidated person.

However, should she have to be naked in front of, say, a whole room of people, on the other hand, that would rattle her nerves.

The cells were empty, the other prisoners at this time on work duty. Once Jill, this now naked repeat offender, had finished undressing, they opened her cell door. "'Kay, in ya go."

"And watch the attitude, Kaufflin," said the other guard. "'S not gonna win ya any points."

Clothes off, the fearless Jill replied insolently.

"Go fuck yourselves."

The guards looked at each other expressionlessly. "Perhaps she's hard of hearing," said one to the other.

"Perhaps," nodded the other in a calm voice. She looked back at Jill's scowling face with a half-second smirk, and proceeded to smack her across it, nice and hard. Scowling back at Jill's now painfully wincing countenance, the guard ordered her, "Now GET the fuck in there, you disrespectful little slime ball."

Jill attempted to cover herself up as she entered the cell. The two guards, Abbie and Barbara, followed her in.

"Oh, no, no, you don't," said Abbie, the guard who had slapped her, as Jill started to sit down on the lower of the two bunk beds. Barbara and Abbie stood at the end of the beds facing out towards the other cells. "Over here, Jillbird."

Jill cautiously stood back up, hands over her lady parts. "Where's my jumpsuit?" she wanted to know, a question at whose last word Abbie and Barbara maliciously smirked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Abbie answered in a voice dripping with evil glee.

Jill didn't exactly understand what was going on here, and didn't think she wanted to know, either. As far as she was aware, they were supposed to give her an orange jumpsuit. "What the fuck's goin' on here?" she demanded.

Barbara fielded that one, patting the rusted metal bedpost. "Well, step lively on over here, and we'll tell ya."

Jill refused to give any indication she was worried or apprehensive about anything, yet her obedience was reluctant. Once she was standing in front of the bedpost as they'd ordered, Abbie and Barb each took one of her arms, pulling her hands away from herself.

"H-what are you doing?" Jill said, starting to shout. "Get off me!"

Abbie dealt her another sharp slap across the face. "We give the orders around here, Kaufflin," she informed Jill. As they yanked her arms to her sides, they each pulled out a pair of handcuffs to shackle her wrists to the bed frame.

Seeing the cuffs and piecing together this part of the situation, Jill started to freak out. "FUCK!" she shouted. "Stop it, you bitches!" she yelled as they commenced.

"You are hard of hearing, aren't you," said Barb.

"What a pity for her," commented Abbie. To Jill's surprised dismay, they each pulled out another pair of cuffs to do her ankles next. She tried to kick at them.

"HEY—" This strict warning was administered as she felt one of them grab her leg and pin down her toes by stepping on them.

"Bitch, you try to fight us, this is gonna go a lot worse."

They finished shackling her, one arm and one leg each to either side of the frame. When they were done, Abbie gave Jill a few harsh pats on the cheek. "Now don't you go anywhere, Jillbait," she said in a sweet voice, "I'll be riiiight back."

Jill watched with a dirty glare as Abbie left. Once she got out of sight, Jill rattled against the cuffs. She refused to allow herself to show intimidation. "...What, 's this supposed to embarrass me or something?" she asked Barb.

Rocking back and forth on her heels, Barbara only smiled inscrutably at her, nothing more.

Jill just stared back at Barbara, aggressive and defiant. The truth was, however, it was a mere mask—a brave front behind which Jill was hiding. The truth was, deep down, Jill was terrified. She was 30 years old, and sentenced to prison for the second time. The first time, they had given her her own cell with one bed and the aforementioned orange jumpsuit. She could never have expected this, but she also knew that they were extra hard on sissies and cowards. So, no fear, she continued telling herself, Show, absolutely, no, fear. She just hoped her quivering limbs wouldn't give her away.

Both of her terms were for murder. It was extremely fortunate for Jill Kaufflin to have found the man who'd become her husband. He was successful, charming, funny and sexy. It was quite unfortunate for her that he was SO sexy, other women were drawn to him as well. But it was even more unfortunate that Jill was born with a vengefully violent streak. Five years ago, she found out another woman had attempted to seduce and have an affair with her husband, an act for which the other woman paid with the rest of her life, and Jill with four years of hers in the women's state pen. Half of her regretted it, and half of her didn't. She had given the woman the chance to back off and leave her husband alone, but it was no use. It seemed that she was determined to get her hooks into him. She simply would not, back, down. So finally, fueled by her tendency towards violence, Jill took matters—and fifty milligrams of strychnine—into her own hands.

The half of her that didn't regret it clung to the fact that her marriage was her most prized possession. Her husband idolized her—to the point that religious worship would be an appropriate comparison—and meant more than the world to her. He refused to leave or divorce her after the incident. He didn't judge her. And once word had gotten out, still in prison or not, other women let her husband be.

But one other woman was not so quick to catch on. Four years later, shortly after Jill had been released from prison term one...

...the exact...SAME...thing...happened...again.

Not a single detail was different from the first occurrence.

And Jill handled it the exact same way. Her compulsion to protect her marriage was yet stronger than her instinct to protect her own future. And while she still didn't regret it, she remained terrified—on the inside—of what might be done to her in this term.

Abbie returned, carrying a very, very large bag which was zipped closed and dragging a steel chair behind her. She reentered the cell, tossed the bag on the floor and positioned the chair in front of Jill, facing her body.

Jill looked down at the chair, then back up at Abbie. Trying to maintain the durability in her voice, she asked, "What's that for?"

"Ah, you'll find out. In the meantime..." Abbie squatted and unzipped the bag.

The next thing they heard was footsteps. Impending footsteps, followed by the voice of another guard, shouting, "A'right, scumbags, back inside!!"

"Oh, goody!" Barb said, leering at Jill. "The inmates are back from work duty!"

And the next thing Jill saw was a dozen or two orange jumpsuits, sweaty faces and pairs of dirty bare feet. They were toweling off their foreheads with their shirtsleeves, glad to be back in out of the brutal summer sun. When they caught sight of the exposed naked girl chained to the bed who wasn't there when they left, the collective reaction, predictably, was nothing short of cacophonic. It became increasingly difficult for Jill to stay calm, cool and collected under the vocal eruption heaped upon her—

An eruption of wolf whistles, cat calls, whoops, cheers, innuendos, teases, taunts, kissy faces, obscene gestures and mock sympathy...causing Jill to grit her teeth, shut her eyes and then look at nothing but the floor. As unflappable as Jill tried to remain, the wind was being pretty well yanked out from under her sails.

"Well, well, what do we got here?!" exclaimed one of the girls.

"Mm! Pretty chick!" commented another.

"Nice birthday suit, cutie!" another said.

"You gonna be our new fuck toy, sweet thing?" teased yet another.

"Hey, don't nobody touch her; she's mine!" claimed another.

"Woo-hoo, fresh meat!" celebrated still another.

Abbie quieted them down. "ACTUALLY...actually...this one's back with us again. She's only semi-fresh."

"A'right, bitches, shut the fuck up and back behind the bars!" repeated the no-nonsense guard who'd brought them back in.

"Hey, sugar buns!" one woman flirtatiously called to Jill, ignoring the guard. "What're ya in for?"

"Murder, honey cunt!" Jill shot back. "Wanna meet me on a bad day?"

The inmates responded with a collective "OOOHH!" Jill gave the flirtatious woman the "c'mon" hand gesture with a tough expression on her face.

The guard persisted. "A'right...a'RIGHT, shut up!!" she reiterated. "Get your fuckin' asses back behind the bars!"

They dispersed to their cells with their mates, as Jill noticed a particularly frightening-looking woman shuffling into hers.

"We-e-ell, this brat's got quite a fuckin' mouth on her, don't'cha?" Barb said, turning back to Jill, hands on hips. "Ballsy little lady, even tied up. Maybe this'll straighten ya out." She urged Jill's roommate over. "Kaufflin, meet your new buddy...Barker. Barker...Kaufflin, your new plaything...and your new bitch."

Jill hated the way this sounded. Barbara went on.

"You may do what you like with her...just as soon as we're done with her, that is."

Jill tried to keep her eyes from widening at the sight of the sneer on her new "friend"'s face, although it was next to impossible to hide her nervous gulping. Had Jill been able to discern who said what during her little exhibition, she would have recognized Barker as the person who'd warned the others that Jill was hers, being in her cell, tied up for her like a big Christmas present.

Krysten Barker looked Jill up and down, very pleased by what she saw. "You look fun," she finally said, grinning menacingly at her.

It wasn't a dissimilar evaluation of her to that of most others. Jill Vana Kaufflin was a stunning girl. At 30, Jill was a 5'7" 36-28-38 example of what many would refer to as a "fox." Her sandy-colored, frizz-wavy hair...her wispy bangs...her feline-like pale blue eyes...her velvety red lips...her sturdy yet feminine arms...her practically flawless breasts...her curvaceous overall figure from her front around her back and down to her apple-shaped ass...her smooth, slender legs...her soft, pedicured feet...her hirsute vagina...

Barker fondled Jill's torso. Jill wriggled, trying to shake her away. Barb jumped back in, addressing Jill again. "So, Kaufflin...you think you're a real tough girl, huh?"

Jill knew the sass wouldn't help her, but she still refused to give them the satisfaction of yielding to their bullying. "Tougher than you think, bitch," she replied.

"Yeah??" Barbara said, eagerly anticipating what would be happening in the next couple of hours. If only this gal knew what she was setting herself up for...

"Well, let's find out." She took Jill by the chin and squeezed her cheeks. "I wanna see what you're made of, Kaufflin," Barbara snarled at her. "I wanna find out...just how tough...you really are."

Jill tried to bite Barbara's hand off her face. "What're ya gonna do, beat me up?" she inquired.

"Not exactly," Abbie stepped in. She pulled a length of thin rope from the bag.

Already cuffed to the bed, Jill eyed them curiously. "What's goin' on?"

"Thought I explained to you, Silly Jill," Abbie answered. "We give the orders and ask the questions around here." She unlocked Jill's right wrist from its cuff, but held on to her arm in case Jill got any funny ideas about batting them away. Discarding the cuff, they replaced it with the rope, securing Jill's wrist back to the bed frame with it instead. Jill was going to ask why they didn't just use the rope in the first place if that's what they were planning to restrain her with, but she could figure it out. Tying with rope required much more time, work and cooperation than the simple snap-click! of a pair of handcuffs. It was clearly easier to do this one limb at a time, with the prisoner in question unable to stop or slow them up with her other appendages. Which is what they did.

Once they had her arms and legs now lassoed to the bed, Jill again disregarded the instruction about not asking any questions, and demanded to know, "So, what, is this supposed to scare me?"

"That? Not so much," Abbie said, willing to answer this one, returning to her bag. "But this, a little bit."

The object she'd just removed was a razor, by which an injection of fear was indeed pumped into Jill's heart. Her hairy naked vagina quivered.

"And, uh, this...a little more," Abbie said, removing the blindfold and handing it to Barb to slip on her.

Oh God...fuck me, thought Jill, growing more and yet more frightened on the inside and having more and more trouble hiding it on the outside. "You're gonna shave my pussy??" she asked.

"Yes, that's quite good," she heard one of them say. "You're very perceptive, Jill."

"Wh-what the fu-...WHY?!"

"Oh, it's all part of the repeat offender treatment, Kaufflin," the other explained. "All the multiple-timers get their pussies shaved."

Abbie perched in the chair and began performing the shave. As Jill expected, it felt very rough and unpleasant. Not surprisingly, Abbie wasn't being very gentle with her. Some of her expression may have been hidden under the blindfold, but all of them could clearly read the wincing and cringing in the rest of her face, not to mention her limbs and digits curled and flexed up in discomfort. Yet Jill still tried to hide the sting, emitting only small, inaudible whispers of "God...fffffuck...shhhhhhhit..."

"Damn! This is turnin' me on!" chuckled Krysten Barker, settling down on the floor against the bars for a front-row seat.

"Ah, you're not the only one," added Abbie. "Am I feeling a little moisture down here, Kaufflin?..."

Jill wanted to hit her with a flippant comeback such as, "Fuckin'-A right; 's 'cause I'm pissin' on ya," but kept her mouth shut.

When the shaving was completed, Abbie disposed of the razor and went back into the bag. Silently addressing Krysten Barker and Barb by putting her finger to her lips, she removed a bottle. She turned back to Jill, who was still grimacing.

"Awww...does it hurt, Kaufflin?" she asked, feigning empathy. Jill said nothing, only turning her head in the opposite direction from Abbie's voice.

"Well, we'll take care of that for ya..." Abbie continued, depositing some of the bottle's contents into her palm. "Now then, Jilly-fish...if you don't mind, I'd like to have a few words with you concerning the nature of your...actions, which led you here..."

Making Jill think she was going to say more, Abbie viciously smacked her aftershave-coated palm against Jill's reddened shaved vagina...and kept it there...clamping onto her like a vise, pinching and squeezing her raw red cunt, torching her with the alcohol, sending a searing double-agony through Jill's body.

"AHHHHH!..." Jill hoarsely croaked, realizing there was no point left in trying to deny the pain. She sucked air through her teeth. "FUCK!" Her crotch ached and burned like hell. She twisted and writhed back and forth, pulling on the ropes holding her in place, trying to rip her hostage pussy out of Abbie's evil hand. "GOD-FUCKING...!" she moaned, trying to keep the tears back.

Abbie only smirked up at her, though on her inside she was malevolently grinning ear to ear. "Glad to see you have a grasp..." Abbie said, giving her one more squeeze on that significant word, "...of the obvious." She let her go, and stood to look Jill square in her gasping, cringing face.

"Now then," she went on, "For the second time, Kaufflin...it would seem another chick's gotten a little friendly with your dude..."

Jill turned her exasperated face towards the ceiling to roll more than just her eyes.

"...and, for the second time...you poison her."

A few seconds of silence.

"...Overreact much?" Abbie finally finished.

Jill let out a sigh. "The bitch was trying to stea—AHHHH!!" she screamed with a painful strain as Abbie again snatched her snatch in her pressing grip. "Let the fuck go of my cunt, bitch!"

"Ah, yes," Barbara chimed in. "The great husband robbery. We're all familiar, Kaufflin. Unfortunately, it's a little difficult to enjoy the company of one's husband, when one resides in the slammer."

"My husband adores me!" Jill insisted. "I was protecting him! I was defending his hon—"

"Oh, were you, Kaufflin?" replied Barb, also standing to address her. "Were you now? Were you really attempting to protect his honor?...Or were you just trying to protect..."

She leaned in to the side of Jill's face and half-whispered in her ear, "...his dick?"

Jill waited one second before she broke out with a, "WHAT?!"

"Y'know, she makes a good point, Kaufflin," added Abbie. "I mean, I can tell now, just by looking at it, this pussy's seen a lotta action." She started to pry Jill's labia apart. "Wouldn't you say, Babs?"

"That I would, Abs."

Jill tried anything she could to get her to stop. "Get OFF ME, you psycho!" she repeated.

They ignored her. "I mean, yes, it seems to me that from the looks of this pussy, Mrs. Kaufflin here's spouse is really more of a, uh...fuck buddy...huh, Jilly?"

And as if it didn't ache enough already, Abbie then punctuated the remark by nastily flicking her still-smarting vagina.

"Ow! Fuckthathurts!" Jill reiterated through her clenched teeth, pulling frantically against the ropes. She took a breath to yell in Abbie's direction, "How dare you?! That's bullshit! I love my husband!!"

Barb rejoined the conversation. "Do you love him?" she grilled Jill. "Or do you just love his big, fat, thick, juicy, throbbing cock?"