The kitchen smelled of yeast and smoke, pots boiling over, trays clattering. But none of that mattered anymore—because everyone knew what the real main dish was.

Tae.

She walked in that morning in her short apron, tied so loose that every time she bent over, her tits spilled out. The apron was the only thing covering her naked body. No panties. No bra. Just soft skin, flushed cheeks, and her dripping cunt peeking through whenever she spread her legs.

“Morning, boys,” she purred, dragging her finger across a counter dusted in flour. She popped the flour-covered finger into her mouth, sucking slow, her lips obscene.

The inmates whistled, their cocks already hard through their pants.

One of them didn’t even wait. He grabbed her wrist and shoved her onto a pile of flour sacks stacked in the corner. Her legs spread wide, the apron riding up, pussy glistening.

“Fuck—look at that slut.”

“Ready to serve breakfast already.”

He pushed inside her with a groan, her wet heat gripping him instantly. Tae moaned, arching her back, her tits spilling free as other inmates gathered around, jerking themselves as they watched.

Another tied her wrists behind her back with a kitchen apron, forcing her onto her knees. She was dragged across the flour-covered floor, lips parted, ready to swallow the next cock shoved into her mouth.

The kitchen turned into chaos.

One man pumped into her throat while another fucked her pussy from behind, flour sticking to her sweaty skin. Another grabbed her breasts, kneading them like dough, smearing flour across her nipples before sucking them hard.

“She’s our fucking recipe now,” one laughed, slapping her ass. “Extra flavor in every bite.”

Tae gagged, drool mixing with cum dripping down her chin, her body twitching with each slap of flesh. But she didn’t resist. She moaned louder, her pussy squirting across the flour sacks, soaking them through.

Soon, she was made to crawl on all fours, trays balanced on her back as the men lined up. Naked under her apron, she served food with cum leaking down her thighs. Inmates grabbed bread with one hand, tugged her hair back with the other, shoving their cocks into her mouth before leaving with their meal.

By the end, she was a wreck.

Her apron hung half-tied, her tits and ass smeared with flour, her body dripping cum, her hair wild. The kitchen reeked of sex, sweat, and food.

And yet, when she looked up, dazed and smiling, she whispered with a filthy grin:

“Dinner’s gonna taste even better.”