A lot of the people who have read about my 'adventures' as a lesbian jailer working inside a women's correctional facility mistakenly believe that all I ever do is molest the pretty girls locked up here, but that's complete nonsense. I'm actually very good at my job, and even if my superiors doesn't always take notice, my fellow jailers and a lot of the inmates incarcerated here appreciate me.
Take last week, for example. This cute little blonde girl serving a 30-day sentence for possession of amphetamines sought-out my protection in the usual way, wiggling her naked little butt for me while I watched her showering, which, of course, resulted in my immediately placing under in my 'protective custody' in the private 'playroom cell' that we guards keep upstairs for our own entertainment & amusement.
Anyway, as I was undressing this little blonde hottie a couple of hours later (so that I could fuck her doggy-style with my strap-on), she presented me with some information that prevented a possible fatal stabbing the very next morning. The girl had apparently spotted this tough Latina gang-banger named Mariel Mendez sneaking a shiv (aka: a homemade knife) into her mattress, and the girl then overhears Mendez and two of her 'chicas' planning a breakfast-ambush on an Italian woman named Capelle.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I used this knowledge to foil their plans. No, I didn't report it to my superiors, as they would have wanted to know exactly how I came upon this inside information, which might be difficult to explain without going into unnecessary details regarding my off-duty activities. No, I instead positioned myself in the cafeteria the next morning, close enough to this Capelle woman so that when Mendez and her gang struck, I was right there on top of them before any damage was inflicted. It was pretty awesome. I mean, the very second Mendez flashes her blade, I was on her, my nightstick slamming down hard on her wrist, snapping it and forcing her to drop the shiv onto the floor. I then jammed my stick hard into the gut of the large hispanic inmate now grabbing at me from behind, and a second later I swung it down onto the back of the head of a third woman bending down to pick up the fallen blade where it lay on the cafeteria floor. In a mere five seconds I had single-handedly disarmed Mendez and her entire gang, and immediately thereafter several other guards converged to place the three would-be attackers in custody.
Of course, the captain praised my alert action, promising to put me up for an official commendation. I, of course, thanked her, but quickly forgot about it. I mean, what good is a commendation? I'd have much rather received a pay-raise and/or a promotion, but what are you gonna do, right?
Anyway, a few days later I discovered that Delora Capelle, the woman whose life I had saved, was in fact the wife of Luca Capelle, a high-ranking capo in San Francisco's Lugano crime family. She was here in our facility serving a six week sentence for contempt involving an ongoing drug investigation - I really don't know the details beyond that. But apparently, the mob suddenly wanted to thank me. This mob lawyer named Buscelli calls me at home, and asks me what they can do to show their appreciation for my fast action in disarming the 'Mexicanas,' thereby saving Mrs. Capelle's life. I told him not to bother. I mean, the San Mateo County government isn't stupid, and if they notice a sudden sizeable deposit in my bank account (and trust me, they notice things like that), I'd immediately be investigated for corruption and probably fired, am I right?
So anyway, I politely decline his offer, and that's the end of it. Or so I thought.
A week later, there's a knock on the door of my apartment on my day off. I open it, and standing there is this beautiful, stunning-young blonde girl, wearing a raincoat and staring at me nervously.
"You are Linda Morris?"
I nod and she hands me an envelope. I then invite this lovely blonde hottie inside while looking down at the return address on the envelope. It's from the mob-lawyer, Buscelli...
To: Linda Morris
From: P. Buscelli & Associates
Re: Jana Kulikova, your new maid
In regards to our earlier telephone conversation, we have refused to take no for an answer, and are offering you this lovely young Latvian woman to be your new housemaid. Her services have already been paid for by those grateful to you for your quick actions of earlier this month.
My client checked with his wife, who informed us of your reputed interests, and we believe that Miss Kulikova will suit them to a tee. She is eighteen years old, obedient, and all of her legal papers are in order. Thank you again for your service to our community.
Sincerely,
Paul Buscelli
Attorney at Law
I then look at the girl, and she's looking back at me, almost fearfully, before then venturing a question:
"Everything is good, yes?"
"Everything is wonderful. What's your name, sweetie?"
"I am Jana, your new maid. For six weeks."
Six weeks. That figures.
I stare at her. She's really beautiful. I mean, I feel like I'm standing there with leggy blonde supermodel Candice Swanepoel (I really love her, by the way)... I'm serious, this girl is incredibly beautiful, you know? I shake my head sadly, realizing however that there's no possible way I can't keep her.
"Take off your raincoat and have a seat," I say, motioning to the couch in my small living room.
Big mistake!
The girl removes her raincoat, and underneath it it's like she's wearing super-sexy black & white lingerie outfit - 'French Maid' lingerie, to be specific! She looks incredibly hot! Her body is slender and very fair-skinned to begin with, with these incredibly hot curves... I'm talking nice breasts, a luscious little ass, and killer long legs! I involuntarily lick my lips.
"This is acceptable maid's outfit, yes?" the girls asks, looking at me questioningly. I was given it to wear."
I nod while signalling with my index finger for her to turn around, and she obediently does so, with her innocent blue eyes then meeting my own. "Is good for you?"
"Yes," I admit, again licking my lips. "Is very good!"
I then had to excuse myself and go into the next room where I immediately got on the phone with lawyer Buscelli, leaving the girl alone in my living room.
"What's the big idea, buster?"
"Ah, Ms. Morris," he began. "I was expecting that I might hear from you about now."
"Are you trying to bribe me with a girl?"
"Absolutely not! Think of Jana as a 'thank you' gift from Delora's grateful family for protecting her from that knife-wielding maniac. There's no quid-pro-quo here! We expect nothing more from you in return!"
"Yeah? Well since when does the Lugano crime-family give gifts to county correctional officers?" I asked, adding: "With no strings attached?"
"See here, Ms. Morris, you've got this all wrong. For one thing, it's the Profaci family that operates illegal human trafficking in the bay area, not us. But it just so happens that their organization lost the services of this particular young woman to us over substantial unpaid debts, but as we don't deal in women we have opted instead to offer this lovely young girl to you. It was Miss Capelle, the lady whose life you saved, who insisted upon it! She told us how grateful she was for your help, and demanded that we do something special for you!"
From where I stood I could observe Jana in the next room. She had somehow produced a feather duster and was already making the rounds, cleaning off my perpetually dusty living room furniture. Her legs and ass both looked incredible in that short little French Maid outfit!
"Fine," I announced. "You win. I'll try her out... you know, for a few days, at least."
He chuckled, and I hung up.
I then sat Jana down on my couch to get the full story from her, trying to avoid staring at her cleavage while doing so. No good. I then forced my eyes down to her gorgeous legs. Damn, she was shot! This clearly wasn't going to be an easy interview! But eventually I forced myself to focus.
Yes, she was 18-years old and hailed from Latvia. She had learned to speak English in her school at Riga. This Profaci-run outfit responsible for shipping over here had apparently promised to marry her off to a rich American, when in fact they had instead decided to sell her to either an escort agency or possibly a strip club. But their plans had run afoul of the Lugano family, which is how she'd ended up at my door.
The FBI had been coming down hard on organized crime of late, which explained Delora Capelle's contempt charge and jail time. And the Luganos were reportedly big into the drug trade, which explained the Mexican drug-cartel's attempt to ice her in jail. Since that attack, by the way, she'd been safely moved to another, more protective wing of the facility. And because the FBI was now nosing around, the Luganos didn't want them discovering a gorgeous-young-illegal-foreign-girl in their possession, and so they'd gotten rid of the problem by passing her onto me.
Now I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. I'm really not about using innocent young girls lost in a foreign land for my sexual thrills. Well, at least not initially! Maybe later. Yes, she was incredibly hot, but I sincerely wanted to help her. And if my helping her eventually landed her in my bed, then fine. But first things first!
I asked about her family.
She explained that both of her parents died several years earlier, and that she'd been raised by her grandmother, now 70-years old, and still living in Riga. Apparently, some charitable Latvian-American organization had offered to re-unite her with her granddaughter, but only if Jana was settled and had received U.S. citizenship.
"Best way to become citizen is to marry American husband," she lamented. "But they wanted to make me sex worker instead."
"All men are bastards," I commiserated. "But you're more-than-welcome to remain here with me until we can work something out. I can fix up the spare room for you!"
"I will work as maid for you," she offered, hopefully, showing me a timid smile. "You are wonderful woman to help me."
She then reached over to hug me. She smelled good! It was extremely difficult for me not to begin passionately kissing her, or at the very least begin squeezing that luscious butt of hers. But I resisted. For now.
"When I first see you open door I think you are woman who dresses like man," she gushed, before then quickly changing the subject. "Your place, it is nice, yes? Many nice furniture and appliances."
"Yeah, it's all mine."
"How should I be calling you?"
"Calling me?"
"How should I... be addressing you?"
"I'm just Linda... and I'll call you Jana!"
She smiled in response. A beautiful smile!
I then showed her around the place. My apartment really isn't all that spacious. I mean, there are two bedrooms, one at either end, each with its own bath. In the middle, a small living room, kitchen, foyer, and den. Modest by California standards, but Jana seemed to be very impressed by it.
"All of this room for just one woman... is very nice!"
"I'm guessing that apartments in Riga must be pretty crowded."
"Yes, is not so much room."
That night, after getting her settled in, I returned to my own room and got busy trying to figure out what to do next. Re-uniting her with her grandmother was an obvious priority, but the only way to do that was to get Jana naturalized.
