BEHIND BARS (ff, reluc, nc, drug, celeb, AU, prison)
CHAPTER FOUR: MEETINGS
AUTHOR: Zahir al-daoud (email@example.com)
FEEDBACK: Please! It is the only pay received for writing these. And
feel free to offer suggestions. Can’t promise I’ll use every one,
but I’ll at least consider them (barring certain practices that just
do nothing for me at all). Besides, its the only way I’ll ever get
NOTES: This story is set in an alternate timeline, one wherein many
of the famous ladies in our world have led different lives, ending
up as either staff or inmates at a women’s prison.
DISCLAIMER: What follows is a piece of fiction. Legally, one should
consider it a parody. No comment is made or implied about the
genuine lives or personalities of the celebrities described, nor
about their orientations or tastes. It is a fantasy, pure and
simple. Do not take it seriously, please. And no, I’ve no notion how
to contact any of these people in real life.
Oh, and there’s no such thing as Techerol.
CAST (in this chapter):
Gabrielle Union as a Prison Nurse
Jeri Ryan and Eliza Dushku as Correctional Officers
Jessica Alba, Majandra Delfino, Alyssa Milano and Alecia Moore (aka
“Pink”) are the Pinks, an inmate gang
Mena Suvari, Teri Hatcher, Julilanne Moore, Brittany Murphy and
Michelle Rodriguez inmates
Agnes Bruckner, Liz Vassey and Lacey Chabert are veteran inmates
FOREWARD: I’m still learning about writing anything so hardcore, and
with that in mind please forgive all flaws in the following.
Hopefully, you see an improvement. On the other hand, if you have
any specific criticisms to offer (do I overuse certain words, do you
get confused what’s going on, etc.) I welcome them.
Corrections Officer Jeri Ryan knew what her first duty of the
morning would be. And dreaded it. Not that she had any choice.
Procedure was rigid, regulations clear as air. Still, from the
moment she clocked in she dreaded going to Solitary.
The Solitary Cells made up almost half of the east tower. The bottom
half was taken up by rooms Warden Jansen had set aside for an inmate
library, such as it was. But the top half consisted of individual
cells, rooms empty save for a mattress, toilet and sink. While each
cell had a light fixture, those lights were usually kept off, even
when occupied. Like now. Darkness was part of the punishment
involved in Solitary–hour after hour of silence and darkness, with
no company and no distraction. No reference to time. No hint of an
outside world. Save for inspection.
Inspection was Ryan’s first duty today.
She headed for the single occupied Solitary cell with a reluctance
that hopefully no one could see. In fact she doubted anyone could.
This was the kind of thing she’d spent her entire life learning to
hide. Gathering the items needed for inspection–handcuffs,
flashlight, latex gloves–she herself was aware of moving a little
faster than usual. Just as she knew of the extra effort she made in
not meeting anyone’s eyes this morning. Did anyone else note these
details? That seemed highly unlikely. Even after five years, none of
her fellows could really be called a friend. Some she did in fact
like better than others. And some she frankly loathed. When thinking
about it–which wasn’t often, but moreso than most believed–she
thought her fellows unlikely to have discerned much of those
preferences. She was in fact only half right.
Alone in the hallway outside of the lone occupied cell in Solitary,
Jeri actually hesitated. This fact nearly shocked her. She wasn’t
the type to hesitate. And inside herself, the fact of her hesitation
caused a shift of thought and emotion. Willpower focussed. Attention
narrowed. Rather than dwell, however briefly, on what such a
hesitation might mean, she put every resource into the task at hand.
Her attention on the light switch outside the cell was never more
total, more absolute. She turned the light on perfectly, with not a
single wasted motion. Taking out the keys and turning the lock went
the same way–perfect, precise, with utter absorbtion. No room left
for instrospeciton of any kind.
Entering Solitary had its own set of rules, rules Jeri obeyed
without question. Solitary was dark. The sudden light was to
disorient. Entry was to be immediate, discouraging any would-be
attack by the prisoner. Jeri entered according to procedure. Best to
take no chances. When a prisoner ended up here, they had already
proven themselves dangerous.
This one had committed rape. Her victim was still in the infirmiry.
She was a “Pink,” member of what everyone agreed was the most
dangerous gang among Santa Fernanda inmates. For her latest
violation of rules, she had another week remaining in the silent
As it happened, she was simply seated on the mattress, head down, as
Jeri entered. Once the door shut with a clang, the prisoner looked
up. Her eyes blinked against the light.
“Hello lover. Was hoping it’d be you.”
Jeri’s duty was to notice details. Not dwell on them, just notice.
Like the fact that this prisoner–Alyssa Milano–was naked. Her
clothes were folded next to the mattress. And her hands rested on
both knees, in the open. Which was good. Very good. Less good were
other details. Milano stood, easily enough. She was supposed to do
that. But Jeri wasn’t supposed to pay attention to how smooth and
supple her pale skin moved. Nor was the detail of the stubble at her
crotch–razors being forbidden in Solitary–one of those things she
should have noticed at all.
And those lips–red, smiling.
“So what’s going on in the outside world?” said those lips. “Lacey
feeling better?” Lacey Chabert was the girl Milano had assaulted.
She was still recovering from a broken nose and sprained wrist.
Milano had claimed both injuries to be accidents. Jeri refused to
even wonder if this were true. Likewise, even though the prisoner
asked about her victim every single inspection, Jeri herself never
offered any information.
“Hands forward.” The order came almost without thought. Procedure.
It told her what to do, to say, and focussing on that gave her
something to think about. That was good.
Milano obeyed. “My pleasure.” She even smiled a little bit as the
handcuffs clicked around her wrists. Then some more as Jeri began
donning the latex gloves.
Again, she obeyed. No questions or reluctance. Better, no comments.
Usually, at this point she started to say things about Jeri
blushing. Vile lies of course. This time, though, she said nothing.
“Bend over, hands against the wall.”
Spreading her legs slightly for balance, Milano did as she was told.
Her hands were soon resting on the grey concrete of the wall.
Prisoners usually bent over as little as they had to. Milano bent
more than was strictly necessary. A lot more. In fact her bottom was
well up in the air, it and her groin completely exposed. Jeri almost
said something, but decided against it. What good would it do?
Besides, by making her privates more available, she was actually
making the cavity search easier. Such cooperatoin was best. It
helped. So she kept telling herself, trying not to stare at the
curved backside before her. Just as she insisted to herself that
thoughts of how those clefts of soft flesh would feel as she probed
them were nothing more than random memory. Perfectly understandable.
Meaning nothing. Innocent, even.
Jeri assumed a stance to make the cavity search as quick and easy as
possible. Especially quick. Legs apart and braced. One hand to reach
down and push aside the labial lips. The other to probe and search.
It was Procedure. Not her fault or choice.
For entirely practical reasons (entirely practical), she had to rub
the entrance. Tips of fingers stroked on the tender flesh there,
teasing, relaxing, waiting. It took less time than it should. Jeri
didn’t want to consider what it meant, but the prisoner’s privates
were already moist. Very much so. Much easier than usual,
latex-sheathed fingers made their way inside increasingly wet heat.
Two fingers inched their way inside. What should have taken a minute
or more was taking less than half that. First a tip, then more of
the finger, and then a knuckle
Jeri’s fingers slid past the outer lips. Tight. Hot. Fingers probed,
touching every crevice, feeling for contraband. Milano moved her
hips in response, pushing against the pressure of the fingers.
“Oh…yeah…” said the prisoner, “…like that…deeper…” Her
back arched. Then pushed, driving the fingers another knuckle
inside. “…uhhh…Yesssss…” This last was hissed.
“Anything you say…ohhhhhh…!”
“I said to be quiet.” Jeri’s voice was barely louder than Milano’s.
She didn’t even glance in the direction of the prisoner’s face. All
her attention was on the task. Contraband could be concealed
surprisingly deep inside a woman. It made searching a longer process
than Jeri would have preferred. And harder. Sweat began to bean on
her face. Some of it reached her lip. Automatically, her tongue
darted and licked it off.
Milano’s answer was a chuckle. “Gonna…punish…me?” Her hips began
moving in a steady rhythm. Back and forth, gently at first. “…go
ahead…punish me…please…” She moved her hips faster. Not much,
but enough. Jeri couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening. More to the
point, the movement was pushing her fingers deeper into the
prisoner’s vagina. Concentrating on her duty, Jeri continued to
probe. The moans from Milano were something she tried not to hear.
Even when those moans grew louder–and the rhythm of her hips picked
A few drops of sweat from her forehead dropped onto the naked flesh
of Milano’s bottom.
“…yeah, baby…yeah…just like that…” Although low, Milano’s
voice was high-pitched. And every word matched the movement of her
Without warning, Jeri pulled her hand from the prisoner’s vagina.
Maybe she could have continued searching. She probably should have.
Milano whimpered a little. “I said for you to punish me,” she said,
voice low. “That’s not what I meant.”
Ignoring her, Jeri prepared to finish the search. This time, instead
of the lips, her hand pushed apart the firm cheeks of the prisoner’s
backside, exposing her anus. Milano shivered. Or maybe it was Jeri
who did that. Maybe both. Either way, she began the same procedure
as before. A single finger began teasing the puckered opening to be
searched. The gloved finger, now coated with liquid from the
prisoner’s vagina, had little enough trouble making its way inside.
The prisoner let out the loudest groan yet.
Don’t think about that, Jeri repeated to herself. Whether she enjoys
it or not is irrelevent. How do you know she isn’t lying anyway?
Just trying to get a reaction, pretending she likes someone doing
this to her? So don’t give her that satisfaction. Do your job.
Meticulously, Jeri proceeded to do just that. The prisoner’s anus
was much tighter than her vagina, but still she managed to work two
fingers inside without too much waiting. It took effort, though. She
had to lean in, putting her weight into it. And Milano’s squirming
didn’t help. Jeri had to wrap an arm around her waist, forcing her
to remain just still enough to continue the search. She tried not to
even hear Milano’s sounds–whispers, moans, whatever–as she bent to
Both fingers eventually went all the way inside, past both knuckles
and to the hilt. Nor did she stop there, probing every millimeter
she could inside the prisoner’s body. The trembling made this slower
than she’d have liked, but it Had To Be Done. By far the most
efficient way to do this was withdrawing her fingers slightly, then
pushing them back in a new direction. She was careful to repeat it
several times for each little shift of direction. It was the only
way to be sure. Just as she had to push her fingers inside as far as
they could possibly go. She had to. Then moving her fingers once
inside. Up. Down. To the right. Left. Around in a circle.
Then repeat. As many times as necessary.
From far away, she heard some sounds. Or words. She couldn’t be sure
which. Not at first, so much of her focus was on the task. There was
a momentum built up, after all, and she had to ride that or start
all over again. Her arm was getting tired. She barely noticed–until
the bottom she was probing began to buck and shake uncontrollably.
Jeri’s fingers, caught in that motion, twisted and she almost cried
“MORE! DAMN–MORE!” Milano wasn’t screaming only because she didn’t
have the breath for it. “DON’T STOP–DON’T–OH, DAMN! DAMN!–MORE,
MORE, MORE!” The whispered cries were even more frantic as the her
body began to shake harker, bucking and twisting. Jeri left her
fingers inside, allowing Milano to push them deeper with her hips’
By now the motions were also forcing Jeri’s fingers out. After
barely a moment, she pressed–pushing them deeper.
“OOOOHHHHHH! GOD!” Milano sounded as if she was crying. In pain? Or
joy? Maybe both? Jeri didn’t want to think about that. But Jeri also
kept both fingers firmly inside the prisoner’s anus, no matter how
she bucked and shook.
Then, she pushed again. Milano’s next “YES” turned into a hiss, then
a groan, and finally a guttural sound like a growl. She didn’t buck
any more. Her entire body grew rigid, so rigid it trembled. The
trembling grew, until it seemed as if the prisoner was having a
seizure. Gasps and even whimpers were coming from her.
Jeri pulled her fingers out and stepped away. Hastily, she pulled
off the gloves, looking forward to tossing them in the trash as soon
as possible. If the prisoner hadn’t still been hand-cuffed, she
would have left the cell instantly. As it was, she had to watch as
Milano sank to her knees amid shuddering gasps–gasps that soon
became a quick bark or two of laughter.
Laughter at Jeri.
“That…was so great!” Looking over her shoulder, Milano’s eyes
gleamed. Her smile was the most wicked Jeri had ever seen, or
imagined. “You’re the best, Lover! The fucking best!”
Nothing. Jeri refused to say a thing.
Instead, Milano turned around and squatted on her mattress. Sweat
plastered hair to her forehead. Never taking her eyes off of Jeri,
she said “You know–that’s what I was doing to Lacey when they
stopped me. She was starting to get into it, too. I could tell.
Truth is, if folks had just left us alone that day Lacey and me,
we’d probably be having all kinds of fun right now.” She chuckled.
“Not that I mind, anymore. You’re something special yourself,
Then she winked.
Jeri found her voice. “Hands forward.”
For nearly five whole seconds, Milano did nothing. Then, she held
out her hands. Approaching as quickly as possible–and not closer
than absolutely necessary–Jeri unlocked the handcuffs. Instantly,
Milano let her hands fall to the side. And her legs too, revealing
her nearly-hairless vagina, glistening and swollen.
“Sure I can’t do something for you?”
Not waiting for the prisoner’s next words, Jeri headed out of the
cell. Milano’s laughter echoed slightly as she left, before it was
cut off by the shutting door. She stabbed the light switch to “off,”
putting the prisoner back into darkness. Threw the latex gloves into
the first waste receptacle she saw. Made her way to her next duty
station without looking back or sideways.
She had work to do. And things not to think about.
* * *
Michelle Rodriquez rarely missed much. She scoped out all kinds of
stuff going on around her. Like the showers. Here everyone in this
section filed in and washed themselves, under the steady gaze of a
guard. But there was a lot more going on than that.
Like that guard. Michelle knew better than to think a girl wasn’t
dangerous because she was small. Officer Dushku (weird name) watched
the naked girls in front of her exactly the way Michelle had seen
men with knives follow tourists. In theory, this chick belonged on
the other side of these bars. But theories didn’t mean much. Never
In theory one of her fellow newcommers shouldn’t be here either.
Mena Suvari had been a good girl, or so she claimed. Michelle
believed her. Cheerleader. Up for Homecoming Queen. Went to all the
proms with football or basketball players. Her daddy probably bought
her a nice car and took away the keys when she did something really
wrong–like stay out too late or forget to do some chores. Now she
looked like a baby mouse in a cat farm. Her hands had shaken while
undressing for the showers, and her eyes had kept darting around to
see if anyone watched. Which of course half of the girls here had
done just that. Now, she stood under the spray of lukewarm water,
doing her best to seem invisible.
Might as well throw blood in the water.
Still, Michelle wasn’t a cruel person, not generally. Get on her bad
side, and she made one ruthless enemy (as a certain dead
ex-boyfriend had found out the hard way). But she didn’t go out of
her way looking for trouble. Now and then, she even decided to be
Grabbing a piece of soap, she stepped over to Mena.
“Hey,” she said after a moment of Mena trying to ignore her. She
didn’t take it personally. Poor little bitch was trying to ignore
everything and everyone. “Hey,” she repeated, a little louder than
Terrified eyes darted in her direction. Was this going to be worth
her time? Michelle doubted it, but right now time was something she
had a lot of. “I’ll do your back, you do mine? she asked, holding
the soap up. For several seconds, she got no reply. It took that
long for Mena to give a tiny nod.
Rather than have the little girl scream, Michelle turned her back.
And waited. It took a few moments, but soon she felt soap grazing
along her spine and between the shoulder blades. Jesus! What a
scared little thing she was! Even the way she kept to Michelle’s
upper back, and even touching that as little as possible, spoke
volumes about her fear. Which was okay. At least it had
possibilities. Michelle imagined the fun to be had breaking down
that fear, whittling away at it, aiming it away from herself and at
some of the other dykes around. That part, at least, shouldn’t be
While enjoying Mena’s rubbing her–not much, but nice for what it
was–Michelle looked around. There was a blonde who looked even more
frightened than Mena. Or at least she kept hiding behind the older
redhead that had come in with Michelle and Mena. What was her name?
Julianne something. She turned around, proving she was real redhead
anyway. Tell the truth, she looked nice. Curvy. Dead eyes, though.
But on the other side of her was an even cuter little blonde, the
shortest girl in the whole shower. More, this one smiled a lot.
She’d been the one flirting with another guard on the way here.
Right now she looked relaxed. Another older woman, the brunette
lawyer, looked like she was trying to figure something out. Maybe it
was starting to get through where she was. Or not.
After a minute or so, Michelle looked over her shoulder. She smiled
as gently as she could. “Thanks.” Then turned around. “Your turn.”
Uh-oh. Too much too soon for the cheerleader. With a gasp, Mena took
a step back. One foot must’ve come down wrong, on a little piece of
Didn’t matter. She slipped.
Her head didn’t hit the tile wall hard, but didn’t hit soft either.
She let out a cry of pain, and landed on the floor with a wet thud.
And a yelp. Michelle started to kneel down, ask if she was okay, but
stopped. Someone else reacted faster, already was by the girl’s
side, cooing little words like “are you alright” and “here, let me
help.” Real innocent-sounding. From the look on Mena’s face–still
scared, but glad of what she probably thought was a helping
hand–said it was working. Hell, even Michelle thought it sounded
But the girl saying it was a Pink. The tall one with dark hair.
Jessica Alba. And behind her, where Michelle could see but Mena
couldn’t, the other two Pinks were grinning their asses off.
“Thank you,” Mena said to her pretend rescuer. Grateful and shy.
Blood in the water, Michelle thought again. Just like blood in the
water. She even shook her head.
“How’s your head?”
“Okay, I guess. It hurts some.”
“Lets get that taken care of.” At that, the Alba chick helped Mena
to her feet. Real innocent. She wasn’t copping a feel, no, just
helping the poor girl stand. Right. “Come with me, okay?”
“W-w-where are we going?”
“The infirmiry. Just to make sure you’re fine.”
Mena nodded and followed her so-called rescuer. She even shot a
glance back at the big bad lesbian, which made Michelle laugh. That
girl was so gonna wish she’d stuck near Michelle before long, if the
Pinks were anything like what they seemed. From the way the redhead
and the bleached blonde were teasing the nipples of their
Bitch–casually, hurtfully–Michelle didn’t have a lot of doubts.
But Mena didn’t notice as she limped over to the guard with Alba.
The guard–Dushku–spoke into a walkie-talkie and had the two of
With a sigh, Michelle turned back to washing herself. Too bad.
Little Mena looked like she’d made a sweet Bitch. Michelle had been
looking forward to cracking her reserve. Outside, she’d managed to
get two straight girls to open their legs for her. Neither one had
wanted to, not at first. But persistence paid off. Closing her eyes,
letting the almost-hot water spray against her scalp, she remembered
the fun she’d had seducing them. Flirt a little bit here. Cop a feel
there. When the time was right, insist on a kiss and don’t take no
for an answer. But only a kiss. Let’em get used to that, tell
themselves kissing didn’t mean much. Michelle smiled. She knew just
how good a kisser she was. Part of the fun had been to watch both
girls start reacting to those kisses, looking forward to them, even
Yeah. She’d thought little Mena might have been the same. Probably
would’ve, too, but she didn’t see any reason to get on the wrong
side of the Pinks. There were other girls. She’d have her own Bitch
before too long.
But when she opened her eyes again, things were different. The whole
Not just the fact that Mena and the Alba chick were gone, or that
the guard with a weird name had gone with. No, what grabbed
Michelle’s attention was the guard who’d replaced her.
Gorgeous. More than that–Drop dead fucking gorgeous! Golden blond
hair, blue eyes, mouth just needing to get kissed and do some
kissing of her own–and a figure out of a fever dream of lust.
Better yet was the espression on her face–watching every single
naked girl in the shower but trying not to. Oh yeah. Ripe for
picking. In the closet? Probably. Maybe even thought she was
straight! One of Michelle’s Bitches on the outside had been like
that–a born again Christian no less. All about saving Michelle’s
immortal soul praise the Lord amen. Then she finally got some pussy,
and instead of yapping about Jesus started using her mouth for
better things–like sucking on Michelle’s clit, or pushing her
tongue up Michelle’s ass.
Michelle looked right at the gorgeous blonde, waiting for her to
notice somebody was watching her. Only took a few seconds. Then the
guard looked away. Then she looked back, for all of half a second
before looking at everyone in the room. Like she was just doing her
job. Never mind the blush in her cheeks. Or how her eyes circled the
shower but stopped before looking into Michelle’s eyes again.
Oh yeah. Jackpot.
It was on the way out of the showers Michelle caught this guard’s
name, spelled out on a name tag: J. RYAN. Michelle winked at her
while passing. Miss Ryan blushed. Only a little bit, but still it
was a blush. Her cheeks got pinker. Better yet, her eyes looked
away, refusing to meet Michelle’s own.
Hell, yeah. Michelle smiled, thinking of the nice little challenge
she had now. Peeking over her shoulder, she thought the effort would
be worth it. Officer Ryan was looking away. In other words, she’d
been checking Michelle out.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” Gabrielle Union waited almost ten
minutes before asking. The answer was obvious. Her patient’s facial
expression, the way she fidgeted, all added up to the same answer.
Lacey Chabert said “Some. Well, yeah.” She even smiled a little in
Gabrielle thought her very pretty. Even now, pale from the pain of
her wrist, and despite the fading bruises under each eye, Lacey
remained a remarkably pretty girl. And sweet, which was surprising
in a place like this. It was one reason Gabrielle found her so
attractive. That, and the body worthy of a Penthouse Pet.
“Gonna get you something for pain.” She was already headed over to
the medicine cabinet. As it happened, the infirmiry wasn’t large and
today they were alone together. Lacey was the only patient in any of
the four beds. The Doctor wasn’t scheduled to arrive until this
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“No trouble!” Keys were already out. Without pause or hurry,
Gabrielle opened the cabinet, got out the medication she was looking
for, put two tablets in paper cup. “This is why we have this stuff
here to begin with.” The cabinet was soon closed and locked again.
“You sure?” Definitely some hope in Lacey’s voice. She didn’t want
Gabrielle in any kind of trouble, which was nice. And yes, she was
in pain. Broken wrist, broken nose. Those kinds of things hurt!
Bringing Lacey her medication, plus a glass of water, Gabrielle
winked. “Bottoms up.”
Lacey’s left wrist was broken, but all the same Gabrielle put the
cup against her lips, just as if she couldn’t use her right hand.
The girl obediantly took the pills in her mouth, then swallowed them
with the water Gabrielle offered.
Just then, the door opened.
Gabrielle knew two of the three arrivals by sight. Correctional
Officer Eliza Dushku was escorting a two prisoners. One of them was
Jessica Alba, member of the Pinks. But the slender girl she was
helping, she was a stranger.
Instantly Gabrielle began to draw the curtain around Lacey’s bed.
“Nothing, honey. Just some customers. Don’t want them bothering
you.” Besides, Lacey was trying to relax. Knowing another of the
Pinks was in the room with her wouldn’t help. “You just lie back and
let those pills work, okay?”
Lacey nodded, trusting her nurse. Good girl. Then Gabrielle went
over to the newcommers.
“Now, what’s the problem?” She spoke in a low voice.
“Inmate slipped and fell in the showers. Bumped her head.” Dushku
reported this with just the slightest widening of the eyes. A wink
would be too obvious. The new girl might spot it.
“Just wanted to make sure she was okay,” said Alba in a voice almost
oozing sympathy. Or at least that’s how it sounded to Gabrielle, who
knew just how ruthless this tall young woman could be.
Exactly what was happening seemed clear enough.
Gabrielle indicated the new girl should sit. She began a quick
examination. A simple fall was unlikely to have done any real
damage, but best to make sure.
“What your name?”
The girl, her light brown hair still wet, actually gave a glance at
Alba before answering. “Mena Suvari.”
“Okay, Mena–are you feeling dizzy at all?”
“That’s very good. Now, follow my finger with your eyes, okay?”
All in all the tests took less than five minutes and confirmed what
Gabrielle already suspected. Little Miss Suvari might get a bruise
out of her tumble, but nothing more serious. At least nothing
directly as a result of the fall. Personally, Gabrielle soon had her
own theory about exactly what was going on here. Whatever the
immediate cause of Mena’s fall, the Alba girl saw an opportunity and
seized it. Like most of the Pinks’ choice of Bitches, Mena was young
and innocent-looking. Probably in trouble because of a boyfriend or
a party stunt that got out of hand. There were lots of those behind
these walls. Like Lacey in the bed behind the curtain. Her
conviction was an ample reminder why letting a best friend steal a
car and give you a ride in it was a bad idea. Odds are she, like
Mena here, was more of a bystander than accomplice. Not that the
courts saw it that way. Hence an increasing number of young women in
prisons like this one, not career criminals but rather
almost-defenseless teenagers locked up for a few years in state
prisons. More typical prisoners–the genuine thieves and murderers
and blackmailers–had a term for these girls.
And it no doubt helped that Dushku was on duty. She and the Pinks
had an understanding, and Gabrielle didn’t doubt Mena Suvari would
be finding out exactly what that entailed before long.
“Mena, the good news is–you’re not hurt. Not really. Just rattled.
You just might get a bruise or two, but not big ones and they’ll go
away in a few days.” She smiled in what was hopefully a reassuring
way. “You’ll be fine.”
Jessica Alba reached over and gave Mena’s hand a squeeze. The girl
“Then they need to get to breakfast,” Dushku announced.
“Right,” said Jessica, helping Mena to her feet.
“Thank you, Doctor,” said Mena.
“You’re welcome, but I’m not the Doctor. Just Nurse Union. If you
need to see a doctor, she’ll be here in the afternoon.”
“But…what if someone’s really hurt? Like seriously?”
“We page her. Don’t worry, though. She lives on the island. Not far
“Oh. Okay.” She looked a little relieved at this news.
“Come on. Let’s go eat,” suggested Alba with a cock of her head.
Gabrielle watched the three visitors leave. Once they were out of
sight, she followed them to the door and peaked after. Less than
twenty seconds later, they had turned the corner and were gone.
Gabrielle quietly closed–and locked–the door.
She then turned around and started taking a few steps towards the
curtained bed where Lacey lay. Pausing for just a moment, she
listened for any sound from Lacey, any words or questions the girl
might make. Nothing.
“Lacey?” Still nothing. “Lacey, honey?”
Now she turned and looked. Lacey lay back on the bed, eyes open but
almost glazed. Her mouth was working, or at least the jaw was moving
but no sound came.
Techoral was a very powerful painkiller. Very. Right now Lacey
wouldn’t feel a root canal. Much more to the point, at least as far
as Gabrielle was concerned, it induced euphoria and impaired
judgement. That’s why a single tablet was the recommended dosage.
Lacey had ingested two, which meant she’d be like this for hours,
and would remember nothing when she woke up. Gabrielle smiled.
Moving over to the bed, Gabrielle began unbuttoning her Nurse’s
uniform. She slipped it off her shoulders, then draped it over her a
nearby chair. Next came the shoes. Lacey’s breasts rose and fell in
a steady rhythm. Gabrielle drank in the sight. Lacey looked back at
her with unfocussed eyes, trying to say something. Her legs and and
uninjured hand moved slightly, but mostly she just sprawled.
“Oh, honey…” Gabrielle said, voice thick. She had so not wanted
any visitors at this time, had in fact been furiously annoyed when
those three had shown up. Now, though, she was pleased. They’d
provided just a little frustration, a small delay. Enough to wet the
appetite and let the techoral work. “You and me–we’re gonna have
such a good time,”
Lacey blinked. Slowly. Watched as Gabrielle pulled down the straps
of her bra, unclasped the back, then let her breasts free. It gave
her a charge to know Lacey watched. Did she have any real idea what
was happening? Gabrielle hoped so. Right now the thought of it had
her so wet Gabrielle’s panties stuck to her pussy. Like wallpaper.
Pulling them off the tender, hairless skin there was kinda like
taking off a scab. Or scratching an itch.
The panties joined bra and uniform on the chair.
Naked, she let Lacey simply look at her for a few moments. The
girl’s eyes saw her, even if her thoughts were muddled beyond words.
But enough of her brain still functioned that she took in every inch
of the well-toned, nude woman before her. How much she noticed was
another questions. Gabrielle knew she was hot, knew her body could
inspire lust. Back at the apartment, she had Nikki, who lost few
opportunities to crawl into bed with her “Gaby,” and was proving to
have a welcome submissive streak. But Gabrielle’s appetites were
more than could be satisfied by one lover, no matter how ethusiastic
and beautiful. Besides, having Lacey helpless like this, not
pretending but truly without any choice–this was not a pleasure she
was willing to give up.
She leaned over and gave Lacey a kiss. Not a long one, just brushing
her lips against the drugged girl’s, then flicking her tongue out.
Its wet tip first grazed the edge of Lacey’s own lips. Then reached
inside to touch her tongue. Lingered there. Flickering, teasing,
getting a little response in the end. Lacey pushed her tongue
against Gabrielle’s. Which got a chuckle.
Closing her entire mouth over Lacey’s, Gabrielle sucked with
vengeance. She soon got what she wanted. Lacey’s tongue was
literally pulled into Gabrielle’s waiting mouth. A tiny sound that
might have been a protest, or something like protest, escaped from
the drugged girl, but didn’t last. Gabrielle mouth was now fellating
her tongue, sucking on it, letting her own tongue swirl around it.
Even if Lacey had been making any protests at this moment, they were
drowned out by the hungry sounds coming from Gabrielle. She opened
her eyes enough to catch a glimpse of Lacey’s face, eyes wide and
features not quite slack. Then she continued her efforts, using lips
and tongue to play with the captured muscle at their mercy. Soon it
was responding to her ministrations.
When Gabrielle finally ended the kiss, Lacey’s tongue stayed out for
several moments, moving as if still the prisoner of Gabrielle’s
mouth. Perfect! Gabrielle wrapped her lips around the drugged girl’s
tongue again, sucking and teasing. Her victim responded very well.
This was almost too perfect. Gabrielle’s nipples were so hard, they
hurt a little brushing against the mattress of Lacey’s bed. Beads of
moisture had actually begun to drip down the inside of her thighs.
Gabrielle’s hand reached down, under the sheets, past Lacey’s
infirmiry gown, between her slowly squirming legs. There, she found
the polyester underpants issued by the prison. Placed her hand
directly over Lacey’s crotch. It took a moment or three for the girl
to widen her legs. As ever, her reactions were slow. Some of them,
anyway. Now, Gabrielle began using her middle fingers–stroking
against the gash on the other side of these panties. She stroked
The first sign Lacey was responding came in a guttural sound from
her throat. Gabrielle felt and heard it, a vibration along the
tongue she had in her mouth.
And then, Lacey’s groin began to move. Legs and hips were barely
coordinated, but they thrust slightly against Gabrielle’s fingers.
Good–very good! She began pushing even harder, picking up speed.
Her reward came almost a minute later as Lacey whimpered.
Instantly, Gabrielle acted. She released Lacey’s mouth, and noted
the girl’s tongue kept moving, looking for the lips that had been
playing with it moments before. Perfect! Then she pulled the sheets
off, tossing them aside. When she took her hand from Lacey’s crotch,
the girl continued thrusting her hips as if they were still there.
She wasted no time. Gabrielle pulled back the infirmiry gown. Yes–a
little wetness was actually visible in Lacey’s panties, making her
bush almost visible through the cheap material. Hands trembling, she
began to slip those panties off. Doing so, she nearly
drooled–Lacey’s pussy was gorgeous! She didn’t have a lot of hair,
but what was there made a pretty rounded triangle of black curls.
Lacey was pale, and the contrast between pubic hair and flesh made
her pussy even more luscious to Gabrielle. She could hardly wait to
get those panties all the way off, past Lacey’s ankles.
“Come on, now…” murmured Gabrielle “…you can do it…” It took
some effort, getting the panties past a pair of slowly squirming
legs. But she managed. Once she got the piece of underwear past a
single foot, she left it there. Impatient, she then used both hands,
pressing them on the inside of Lacey’s bare thighs. Legs parted,
revealing what she’d been dreaming about.
Lacey’s pussy. Lips already just a little swollen, and as she pushed
those legs further apart, more of those lips peaked out.
With a last glance at Lacey’s face–vacant, but a little anxious,
eyes darting back and forth in slow motion–Gabrielle grinned. She
bent down. Her tongue reached out, finding Lacey’s pussy. Began by
stroking against the outer lips. Flicker, then lap. Another flicker.
Then lap several times. Followed by a drumming of the tongue against
the top of those lips, where the clit waited. Next she did a long,
slow lick against the whole length of those lips. This-was-Heaven!
After several more long licks, and feeling the girl’s pussy begin to
respond and moisten, Gabrielle stopped teasing. She fastened her
mouth right on the gash, begining to suck. The feel and taste of
this girl, it was intoxicating. She listened intently, eyes closed,
while suckling. Before long, she knew, Lacey’s reactions to what was
happening would grow. The sooner the better. So Gabrielle worked on
getting the reaction she wanted.
Her tongue explored Lacey’s gash, while lips held the girls entire
pussy captive. Her own saliva mixed with the juices already there,
and growing. Past those pussy lips her tongue darted, stroking every
inch it could find. Soon her probes began showing results. Lacey’s
pussy was getting juicier, with the pungent taste of an aroused
girl. More, the girl’s hips were shuddering. They shook as
Gabrielle’s tongue probed, trembled as she licked and sucked. When
she thrust her tongue as deep as she could inside Lacey, made it
rigid, then shook her head hard–that’s when Lacey actually moaned.
Gabrielle smiled, withdrawing her tongue by scraping it against her
victim’s swelling clit. Another moan. Excellent! Still, Gabrielle
continued her lapping and suckling of Lacey, intoxicated by the
taste and sensations and also by the whole idea of forcing this
innocent little straight girl to come. As the moans grew, so did her
excitement, until the insides of her own thighs felt soaked.
With one swift move, she came up for air, then planted a kiss on
Lacey’s lolling mouth. By sense memory, probably, Lacey pushed out
her own tongue. That was more than fine with Gabrielle–she wanted
Lacey to get a good long taste of pussy. And with the sensations at
her groin gone, the poor girl was practically sucking on Gabrielle’s
mouth, making mewling noises.
Gently, Gabrielle pushed Lacey back against the bed, carefull to
place the girl’s left (with its broken wrist to the side). Then,
eyes shining, she got up on the bed herself. Legs on either side of
Lacey’s head, she lowered herself slowly into a sixty-nine.
As her mouth fastened again onto Lacey’s dripping quim, Gabrielle
shifted herself carefully. She wanted her own shaved pussy exactly
where her victim’s confused, eager mouth could reach it. Moments
later, it happened. While Gabrielle leisurely kissed and licked, she
felt the warm wet touch of a tongue. It was reaching out,
tenatively, but still there. Pushing against Gabrielle’s gash just
as it had against her mouth.
She grinned ear to ear. It was exactly the way she’d planned. To
encourage Lacey, as well as her own fun, Gabrielle began to suckle
Lacey’s pussy in earnest. Those lips and clit glistened by now, and
only got wetter as she worked her mouth on them. Lacey’s clit grew
Meanwhile, Lacey’s tongue continued to press and probe. Gabrielle
moved her hips slightly, making that tongue scrape little against
her sopping wet pussy. She also lowered herself, pushing her gash
against Lacey’s mouth. Maybe because she could feel what was
happening to her own pussy, she began to do likewise. Lacey’s lips
pursed, kissing Gabrielle and even pushing her tongue out as if she
was kissing a mouth. Maybe that’s what she thought she was doing.
Not that it mattered–what she was doing felt good! Gabrielle
redoubled her own efforts. She wanted to encourage her drugged
victim. That meant her tongue went quivering into Lacey’s pussy over
and over and over again. Refusing to let up, she practically
devoured the pussy before her, which got wetter almost by the
second. Gabrielle didn’t mind, but merely sucked harder, drawing
those lips into her mouth to savor.
Lacey responded. Her hips pushed up, eager for the sensations her
pussy received from that hungry hot mouth. More, she opened her
mouth and accepted the swollen lips of Gabrielle against her own.
She kissed them as she had been kissed. By sucking on them. And by
thrusting out her tongue into that musky wet heat. Whines of
pleasure reached her ears. She never realized they were her
own–just as she heard but didn’t really understand the words spoken
between her legs.
“Yeah, baby…yeah!” The words came between slurping sounds, which
always went with the wonderful feelings in her crotch. “…Do it,
honey…c’mon…c’mon…” Like an itch that grew with every scratch,
that’s what Gabrielle’s tongue felt like. Lacey didn’t think of it
like that. Right now, she could barely think at all. But that is
what it was like. Each thrust and suck made Lacey tremble. And some
part of her realized, or had noticed, that those feeling grew more
frantic, more intense as she applied her own mouth to what was
before her. So…she used her lips, pursing them and sucking. Her
tongue too, lapping at the flesh there. And the harder she did it,
the faster–the more intense what she felt spreading from her
crotch. Goosebumps, only more. Ice and fire running along her nerve
“C’mon…!” growled the voice, trembling in the same way
what-ever-was-in-her-mouth trembled. Both shook, but Lacey shook
more. Now–oh god. Oh…Oh God! These feelings couldn’t get any more
intense! They just couldn’t! Yet they did.
Gabrielle recognized her patient was getting ready to come. She
pushed how own quim futher into the girl’s mouth, and did all she
could to push her over the edge. Just as the girl’s hips began to
buck, she seized Lacey by the buttocks. Her mouth fastened again
over that pussy, this time using her teeth to hold on–biting, not
enough to leave a mark but enough to be felt, and then whipping her
tongue across the tender flesh as fast as she could.
What came out of Lacey then might have been words. Might have been
intended to be words. Or not. There was no way to tell, since
Gabrielle’s own crotch was pushed into that mouth, and it muffled
every sound. Still, it was loud, and drawn-out. Music to Gabrielle’s
ears as she heard it, knowing Lacey was losing all control. A
fantasy fullfilled, that–to take an innocent girl like this and
make her like it! Feeling these hips tremble and buck against her
mouth, hearing the proof of Lacey’s orgasm, sent Gabrielle herself
over the edge.
Deep gasps like sobs wracked her body. Out of control herself, she
sank her teeth even deeper into Lacey’s pussy. Hearing her victim’s
cry of pain didn’t help. Rather, she welcomed it as wave after wave
of bliss washed over her. Hot and cold! Her feet arched. Muscles
locked, grew rigid. She squeezed on Lacey’s ass cheeks harder and
harder, while finally letting out a long guttural scream into the
writhing girls crotch. Good–this was SOOOOO GOOOOOOD! To have this
little girl be her BITCH! Making her COME! And hearing her WHIMPER
while she did!
It was those whimpers that finally brought Gabrielle back. Lacey
might have been trying to say something once, but by now–after
however long–she was just making sounds. Weepy little noises, going
along with little gasps. Of pleasure? Pain? Sometimes there wasn’t
much difference, after all. Gabrielle blinked, slowly aware again
that she was gasping, sucking air into her longs. Saliva and other
juices dripped from her mouth, while the pussy before her now showed
livid tooth marks. No blood. Lots of spit, even more pussy juice.
But now that gorgeous quim was swollen and red . It looked like it
had just underwent a lot of abuse.
Which, Gabrielle chuckled to herself, was true.
Happy but tired, Gabrielle crawled off her patient. Lacey sprawled
obscenely on the bed, hair plastered to her head with sweart, mouth
smeared with glistening wetness. Her legs were open, exposing the
abused but still delectable pussy. But her eyes were still
unfocussed, still unware.
Gabrielle leaned over and kissed Lacey on the forehead. “Honey,” she
whispered, “that’s just the start. I promise.” Her patient’s head
lolled to the side, eyes trying but not quite seeing Gabrielle.
“Next time,” she said, voice even lower, “I bring my strap on. Wont’
that be fun?” Lacey said nothing.
The nurse gave a very evil smile. “Trust me–it’ll be a lot of fun.
You just won’t remember any of it.” She gave me patient another
kiss, then started to get dressed.
TO BE CONTINUED