My name is Linda Morris, and I live in Redwood City, California... AND I'm an employee of the San Mateo County Women's Correctional Center on Maple Street. Oh yeah, and I'm also a lesbian.
No, this isn't going to be an inspirational story about my life... you know what I mean, a tale about a girl born on the wrong side of the tracks who pulls herself up by her bootstraps to become a success in life. No, nothing like that. It's just a simple recounting of the sordid fun I occasionally have in my capacity as a self-described predatory-lesbian-guard with plentiful access to pretty women behind bars!
Now, I must confess that some of my lesbian friends seriously HATE IT when I talk about engaging in sex with women who are supposed to be in my custody. I've been accused of promoting "male whack-off fantasies," and my writing-style belittled for its "run-on sentences, abrupt POV shifts, and time distortions," to name just a few criticism, none of which matters to me!
What I want to do here is simply share with my readers the kind of opportunities that a woman with a taste for pretty young female flesh can enjoy working at a jail designed exclusively for women!
First, a little background about myself... I'm 41-years old... I'm tall, have short dark-hair, and I regularly work-out. I was born & raised in San Francisco, 27-miles to the north of here. I've liked pretty girls for as long as I can remember. I still spend a lot of my free time up there in the golden city by the bay, regularly frequenting a dyke-bar known as 'Charli's Place' which is a wonderful hang-out for women like myself who prefer the company of other, preferably submissive young women!
I regularly work a four day shift at the women's jail. Most of those housed here have been busted for narcotics, prostitution, drunk-driving, and even some gang-related activity. Female gang-bangers are a scary bunch, but once they're in here we keep them under strict control using the 'carrot & stick' method... rewards for following the rules, and severe punishment when they don't. I really don't like dealing with gang-bangers very much.
Prostitutes are more fun, except that they're really not as attractive as films and television all too often make them out to be. Also, most of the hookers housed here have often been busted for drug-use-&-possession, and there's really nothing sexy about a crack-or-meth-whore drying out behind bars.
My own personal favorites are those pretty young girls busted for innocuous activities like shoplifting or failing to pay their parking tickets. The really cute ones are understandably terrified when first brought here, and they want to be protected. And that's where I come in.
I could easily write twenty or more pages about some of the more memorable escapades I've enjoyed in here with pretty, incarcerated women, but it doesn't get much better than last Friday night, just as I was wrapping-up my ten-hour shift.
I spotted the pretty young thing at the booking desk, where Sarah, one of our rookie deputy-jailers, was taking down the newcomer's vital information. The girl being booked was dressed in a short, tight-skirt, with fishnet stockings showing off a pair of dynamite long legs. I interrupted Sarah, telling her to go take her break - that I'd handle this one myself. Sarah obligingly handed me her clipboard and was gone.
The pretty young thing had a cute pouty-little-mouth just made for kissing, a slender body, shapely legs, sexy little butt, and short-stylishly-cut-beach-blonde hair... she was exactly my type... anyway, she glanced towards me with surprise and a flicker of recognition.
"Don't I know you?" she asked.
"Yes, you do," I smiled. "You were out 'slumming' a few nights back with your college girlfriends at a lesbian bar called 'Charli's Place'... I was there... I asked you to dance... and you told me to get lost."
"Oh, yeah," the long-legged beauty answered, wide-eyed. "I remember now... I'm sorry if I was rude."
"Yeah, that wasn't very nice," I smiled.
She looked both frightened and embarrassed.
"And what brings you here tonight?" I asked, glancing down at the clipboard. "Let's see... Maddie Olsen... 20-years old... driving under the influence... oh, my... you've been a bad girl, haven't you?"
"Please... I was at a party... I only had two drinks... I wasn't driving drunk!"
"Yeah... well, it says here your car was weaving when they pulled you over... and you blew a one-point-one on the breathalyzer... that's just over the legal limit, sweetie!"
"Please... can I call my lawyer now?"
"In time... first I have to book you."
Although she had already been searched by the arresting officers, I couldn't resist a chance to run my own hands over her lovely, tight little body. I ordered her to put her hands up against the wall and then proceeded to glide my own hands everywhere and anywhere... along her breasts, sides, ass, & legs. She felt good!
"OK, sweetie... arms behind your back."
I hand-cuffed her and then quietly informed Martha behind the desk that I was taking this one to the 'special room'... our code-name for the 'playroom' we keep on the second floor. Basically, it's a former-cell-turned-storeroom that we've kind of converted into a 'lounge' to relax in... and engage in an occasional bit of fun with pretty female inmates. Only Martha, myself, and two other guards here are even aware of its existence.
I gently gripped the pretty girl by her arm and firmly steered her past the regular holding cells, occasionally stopping to pretend that I was considering leaving her in one of them. Of course, she looked horrified at the prospect of sharing a cell all alone with one or more tough-looking biker chicks.
"Please... don't put me in there," she begged. "Isn't there an empty cell somewhere you could leave me that doesn't have scary dykes in it?"
"Well..." I answered, smiling inwardly, but outwardly showing reluctance. "We do have a special overnight cell that we sometimes use to house pretty young women like yourself... you know, women who might attract undue attention from lesbian gang-bangers and that type."
"Yes... could I please be put in that cell?"
"Well, I'm not sure," I replied. "After all, you were kind of a rude bitch to me when I asked you to dance the other night..."
"I'm so sorry," she begged. "Let me make it up to you now... I'm really not a rude person... I just didn't want my friends to think that I was gay!"
"So what were you all doing at a gay bar?"
"We were just curious, is all!"
I feigned reluctance, but finally agreed to give her a break, escorting her upstairs to the entrance of our little 'playroom.'
"You owe me for this," I told her, and she nodded back gratefully.
I unlocked the door, and motioned her inside.
"Oh my," she gasped. It was clearly not at all what she'd been expecting. Instead of a cold, unwelcoming cell with a metal bunk and a stainless steel toilet, this one was carpeted wall-to-wall, and with a comfortable queen-sized bed, covered with pillows and a fresh-looking quilt. Right up alongside the bed was a bathtub, and near it was a regular sink & toilet. It all resembled the kind of room you might expect to find at an upscale bread & breakfast, and not at all like a jail cell!
I unlocked her handcuffs.
"Do you think you'll be comfortable staying in here for the night?"
"Oh, yes," she smiled with relief, turning to face me. "And thank you so much!"
"Not so fast, pretty girl," I told her. "I'm not finished with you just yet... this may not look very much like a jail cell, but that's still what it is."
"Oh, yes ma'am... I understand!"
"I hope you do... I've got to go turn in some paperwork... in the meantime, I want you to get undressed and get into that bathtub... I'll be back in a few minutes with a towel and something for you to sleep in!"
I was tempted to remain and watch while she undressed, but that was entirely unnecessary, as I'd be seeing all of her soon enough!
I walked back to the front desk and signed out for the night. I certainly wasn't going anywhere this evening... my fun was going to be right here! I then went to the linen cabinet for a fresh towel, and then into the evidence room where I found a sexy, skimpy little nightie that had been confiscated from a shoplifter who'd stolen it earlier in the day from Victoria's Secret. And finally I went to my own locker where I kept my toy collection.
When I returned to 'the playroom,' Miss Maddie Olsen was nude and comfortably soaking in the bathtub. She looked up in surprise as I entered the room, locking the door behind me. I smiled and then sat down alongside her, announcing that I'd finish bathing her. Before she could protest I pulled out my handcuffs and manacled her wrists to the plumbing fixture.
