SMOKEY SAGAS #17:
"Semi-Fresh Meat"
***
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
un
fortunate 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-
