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A Vintage Erotic Novel Involving a Sexy and Seductive Girl, Full of Sexual Adventures, Surprises and Twists.
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Chapter OneAlfred Bombannente was a parole officer who worked for the city of San Francisco, and for the most part he did an excellent job of making sure paroled prisoners walked the straight and narrow. He did such a good job, and his methods were so completely effective, it was decided he would be moved from male parolees to female parolees. For some reason, women were harder to rehabilitate than men. In spite of Womens' Lib wanting to make certain there was no discrimination between the sexes, the state of California found no pleasure in sending women to prison, making them hard, bitter, and useless members of society. If anyone was capable of rehabilitating them, Al Bombannente was the man.Al was a handsome looking fellow. He stood at five-feet-ten inches in height.Al had dark-brown hair, cut short and combed straight back. He had a straight nose, a handsome face, and though he looked slightly roly-poly, under the little bit of excess weight he had a firm, solid body.Al Bombannente hated no one. He was not the kind of man capable of carrying a grudge. By the same token he didn't love anyone, either, because he knew love led to complications, especially in his line of work. To marry would mean to make himself, and his wife, vulnerable to attacks from the occasional dissident convict who didn't want to be rehabilitated. Now that he was working with women, it would have been even more difficult, since a wife would have automatically been jealous.This didn't mean that Al was lacking for female companionship. On the contrary, Al had more feminine companionship than he was capable of handling. Some of the women all but forced themselves on him, while others had to be coerced a little, but Al had all the feminine companionship he would ever need. Just where he got it from will be explained more fully, shortly.Al always went out of his way to help his female parolees, finding them better-than-menial jobs at better than minimum pay since many of them had abilities that would elevate them above the norm.Four different women had become fashion models because of Al Bombannente. All four had been thrown into prison while in their late teens, their basic crimes being, associating and being caught with known criminals while said criminals were in the act of performing a felonious act, such as smuggling hash or marijuana, or even cocaine from one state to another. They had been young, out for kicks, wanting a good time, aching to have a man care for them and spend money on them.Al had many connections in many fields, and he had been able to convince each of these girls, at a different time, to accept model training, and from there they went on to become highly paid models, making two, three, and even four-hundred dollars an hour.Each of the models showed her gratitude to Al by "convincing him" to bed down with her. This, Al did, more than happy to accept the grateful showing of each of the women.But for the most part Al got jobs such as those of waitress, counter girl in a cleaning establishment, and worker in a day nursery for these women. He kept constant tabs on each woman for a year after he got her the job, even after she was no longer on parole, and his rehabilitation rate with females was almost forty percent better than that of any other parole officer.One of the reasons for it was the fact that he would brook no nonsense from a wisecracking woman just released. He had his own method for making sure those who strayed, but were still capable of rehabilitation, came back into line.Chapter TwoElla Montefusco was one of Al Bombannente's "girls". That is, she was part of his caseload. Ella, as she was known by everyone acquainted with her, had served an eighteen month term at one of the heavy security womens' prisons for having attempted to stick her brother-in-law with a butcher knife. It seemed Ella had developed a heroin habit, and her brother-in-law had been her supplier. Lucky for Ella the man had gotten greedy when she was into the habit less than two weeks, or she would never have been broken of it.Where methadone was the prescribed treatment for most junkies, because Ella had been on it for such a short length of time, she had gone the cold turkey route. She hadn't wanted to go that route, but during her days in the city jail, waiting arraignment -- since no one had put up bail for her -- and while she was on trial, no one had supplied her, so by the time she went to prison, she had been broken of the heroin habit.Her brother-in-law, her sister's husband, had wanted much more than money from Ella, and when he had insisted she give him her body, as well, Ella had gone into a rage and had attacked him with the butcher knife. She had stabbed him three times before he had gotten the knife away from her and called the police. When the officers arrived, they found no evidence to support Ella's claim that her brother-in-law had been her supplier, though they did find track marks on her arm. So she was arrested for assault with intent to kill, and her brother-in-law had testified at her trial against her.It was only because the man had been arrested sixteen months later that Ella's five-year sentence had been reduced, since he had been caught with two kilos of pure heroin on him. It took two more months for the courts to decide that Ella should be allowed out on parole, provided her temper didn't get the better of her.She was an absolutely lovely little redhead, standing at five-feet-two inches in height, with bright, bluish-green eyes, a very tiny upturned nose that was covered with freckles in summer, and a cute little heart-shaped mouth. She had been the littlest bit plump when she had first gone to prison, but the fat had been taken off her in a hurry, and she had a perfect shape, now. Her apple-shaped breasts were thrust out against her pink dress the morning she was in Al Bombannente's office in such a way that made every man who looked at her want to bite into them. She had pa slim waist, no more than twenty-one inches around, and her hips, though not boyish, were not quite full, even though her small, tight fanny was very round.Ella had been sour about the fact that she was on parole. As far as she was concerned, the fact that her brother-in-law had been picked up as a narcotic's peddler substantiated her story about his attempted rape of her. Al explained that although it lent more credibility to her story, there was still no proof of the attempted rape, while her stab wounds on her brother-in-law's body had been definite proof of attempted murder. The fact that her sentence had been reduced and that she was out on parole was the best the court system was able to do.For three weeks Al worked with Ella, trying hard to explain to her that she had to stop trying to find kicks and look for a decent job in order to make a living. He even found her a job, working as a clerk for the local office of the Pruriental Insurance Company.Al checked with the company every week and learned Ella was reporting to work regularly and though she was somewhat slow in learning, she was definitely learning. Nevertheless, the redheaded girl seemed resentful each time she reported to him, until the end of the third week. That was the time she had suddenly been all smiles, and Al Bombannente was suspicious. Girls like Ella didn't simply change overnight.When she left his office, Al had one of the other workers take over the rest of his caseload for the day, and he followed Ella. He followed her to downtown San Francisco, near Chinatown, where he saw her speaking with different men. She was still on her lunch hour, so she was not violating her parole. Not only that, but she stayed away from bars, out in the open.It was when she stepped into an alley with one of the men with whom she had been talking that Al became alert. He waited until the man came out, and Al noticed the man was putting his wallet away. This meant the man had either taken money out of the wallet or had put money into it.Ella had been in the alley for too short a time to do anything sexual with the man, so Al assumed the girl had bought something. He waited while she came out and crossed the street to an outdoor phone booth. She didn't see him sidle up to the booth and listen as she called the insurance company and claimed she wasn't feeling well that day.She hailed a cab after that, and Al managed to get another cab. He followed her to the small rooming house where she now lived. She had a small set of rooms in the basement of the house with her own private entrance. It was when she unlocked the door to walk in that Al forced his way in, grabbing her arm, frightening her with his sudden appearance."Wh-what do you want?" she gasped, as he pushed her inside, shutting the door behind him.They were in the combination living room cum bedroom of Ella's small living quarters. In the far corner, on top of a cabinet, she had a hot plate where she occasionally cooked when she didn't want to join the rest of the roomers for meals. There was a large sofa-bed, still open, though properly made up, off to the right, and though it was somewhat dark down here since it was partially below street level, Al saw Ella had managed to keep the place fairly clean.Turning on a lamp, Al hurled the lovely little redhead onto the sofa-bed, her green coat flapping open, revealing her pink dress again. He took off his own heavy winter coat, it being the middle of December, and without a word he grabbed her purse.Ella gasped as he opened it, turned it upside-down on a small table, and took out a "nickel bag". It was a small, glassine envelope the size of a postage stamp filled with white powder."You know, Ella," he said to her. "If I open this and taste it and find its heroin, you'll be right back in state prison, and there'll be no parole, this time. This is a definite violation of parole. Have you used any of this shit, yet?""No," she whimpered. "This was my first connection. I was going on a high to end all highs. I need something -- anything."Al watched as she leaped to her feet and walked to a small cabinet at the far end of the room. She took out a bottle of Chianti, saying, "What the hell, if you're going to bust me for using H. then my taking some wine won't matter much."There was a small sink in the corner, probably a laundry sink at an earlier time, and she took a glass sitting in the sink, washed it out, and poured herself a quarter of a glass, tossing it down quickly. She did it a second time and Al watched, saying nothing."Considering the hell you went through while you were inside," he said when she had finished her second glass, "I'd think you'd be smart enough to do the right thing in order to stay outside.""Hah!" she laughed. "What the hell does it matter? Do you know I almost killed my brother-in-law for trying to rape me? That was why I was sent to prison. Once I was there, the women did it for him, raping me with broom handles a dozen different times.""If you're looking for pity," Al said to her, "you're looking at the wrong man. There's only one rule I relax for girls on parole, unless they're hookers, and that is, I let you date. What's more, I allow you to make love -- that is, I sort of turn my back if I ever find out about it. You're human, and I figure you have human needs. Hell! A good lay is all any woman needs if she wants a real high. She definitely doesn't need this kind of garbage," he told her, holding up the glassware envelope.Ella was hardly listening to Al at this point. Right now, she was doing her best to contend with the effects of the wine she had consumed on an empty stomach. Since her belly had neither food nor an olive oil or milk coating, the effects of the alcohol were almost devastating. Already her feet and fingertips felt numb, whereas the rest of her body was keyed-up. Her heart had started pumping wildly in her chest and that odd sensation she had felt when all those other women had "handled" her in prison began lurking at the base of her belly.She returned to the sofa-bed, sat down, eyeing Al Bombannente warily. He put the smack bag down on a little counter near the sink and walked over to her, sitting on the bed beside her. His hand gripped her arm to keep her from toppling backward while the dizzying effect passed.Ella wanted the man to take his hand away, because she was starting to feel terribly excited. No man had ever aroused this kind of feeling inside her. It was all so different from the last time she had been touched by a man. Her brother-in-law had repulsed her, and the mere feel of him had sickened her. Not so, this man. He might have been her parole officer, but he was an exciting man. This, added to all the wine she had suddenly ingested, had made her lose all control over herself.He was still talking to her, but she barely heard what he was saying. It finally came through to her that the man was telling her that he was considering not sending her back, yet."Just what am I supposed to do, show my gratitude?" Ella asked."I don't do things with women because I want them to show me gratitude," he replied. "Most of the women with whom I make love do it with me because they want to. In fact, some whom I would normally not even consider as love partners even beg me for it. But on occasion there comes along the type who has to be shown, plainly and simply, that sex is the highest high you can go on. Even though it's been known to be habit-forming, at least it doesn't debilitate the body as heroin does. You can only become eventually stronger from a good fucking.""Just what the blazes are you trying to tell me?" Ella asked, shuddering all of a sudden. She tried twisting away from him, saying, "If you're going to bust me, let's go ahead and get it over with. I'll be damned if I'm going to put out for some slob who'll put me away, afterward. What's more, I'm not going to use my body as a bargaining tool, either.""I'm not making bargains with you," Al snapped. "Before I leave, I'll flush that little bag down the toilet. I'm telling you in no uncertain terms, you stay away from that shit, or no matter what happens between us. The next time I'm going to slap you right back inside, and you know I'm serious.""Just what the hell do you mean by, no matter what happens between us?" she gasped."I'm going to fuck you," Al smiled, steadily staring at her. "What's more, you're not going to try stabbing me with a butcher knife, because if you do, they'd put you away for life, this time. Life!""Oh God! No! No!" Ella cried, weeping softly, holding one hand palm out, at arm's length in the hope of warding him off.Al brushed the arm aside, this time pulling her very close to his body, his arms around her as he said, "I'm not doing this to teach you some kind of lesson. You're loaded with tension, and this is the best way I know to get the tension out of you. Stop trying to upset yourself even more. You did a stupid thing picking up that H. You need something else, honey, and right now I'm about the only one able to supply your needs. You'd better believe it."The words struck terror into the shuddering redhead, and yet, at the sound of what he was saying, Ella felt herself overcome by a violent series of thrills that shook her body as if she had been touched by an unshielded, ungrounded electrical wire instead of the solid, muscular, beefy frame of her parole officer."Mr. Bombannente, please... no... don't do this... don't talk like this. My God! You're supposed to be helping me, not taking advantage of me. You can't expect me to...""Sure I can," Al murmured, pulling her closer. "Would you rather I simply sent you back to prison? Tell me, how would that help you? Honey, I have what's good for you. What's more, deep down I think you know it." His arms encircled her lovely waist smoothly, firmly. "What's more, there'll come a time in the not-too-distant future that you'll be more than grateful to me for this! Any other parole officer would have you in the can right now, and within two days you would be on your way back to the big place. I'm not only giving you one more chance, but I'm showing you how to get your highs without having to harm yourself.""You'll make me pregnant!" she gasped."No way!!" he told her. "I'm sterile. Don't mistake that for impotent. I'm plenty potent, just sterile."His being so direct let Ella know he fully intended using her. She was still dizzy from the effect of the wine hitting her empty stomach and she wanted to scream and call for help. The problem was, the boarding house was empty at this time of day. Even the woman who ran the place would be out, shopping.Ella sent up a silent prayer for help, consciously aware of the quivering in her knees. What frightened her most of all was not the fact that the man was holding her, ready to kiss her and bend her to his will, but the fact that she was inwardly almost willing. He was so totally different from her brother-in-law. Where the latter had inspired nothing but repulsion in her, this man was every bit as magnetic as he claimed to be. She was feeling a series of acutely thrilling sensations charging through her shuddering body. Why? Why should she feel these things?He was drawing her toward him, smiling at her, disregarding her small hands as they tried hard to push against his barrel chest. The man's powerful arms were crushing the lovely redhead firmly against him as his heatedly eager mouth came down very suddenly, anxiously searching for hers. He found it with no trouble at all, pressing his lips wetly against those of the lovely parolee, all but cutting the insides of her lips against her teeth he drove into her with such force.Ella groaned and began struggling feebly for an instant, sudden panic charging uncontrollably through her as she became aware of the strong man's heavy, large hand pressing solidly into the firmness of her soft and tender breast. She gasped, quaking as she realized that any protest on her part would be futile at this point. The man had her where he wanted her. Hell! She didn't want to go back to prison -- not for anything. If it meant giving him her body, then she would do it. She allowed herself to go limp, more surprised than ever at the little butterfly-like sensations that once again began fluttering through her trembling belly.Al lifted his lips from those of the lovely redhead, and he whispered, "There now, that wasn't really so terrible was it?"His hand continued lightly stroking the fullness of her round breasts through her pink dress. Moaning in desperation, the beautiful redhead realized there was no way for her to fight him. The man was too strong, and now her own body, so often abused by the women in the prison where she had been, was, for the first time in her life, beginning to betray her. Perhaps it was the wine, or possibly it was the man, himself, as she realized her raw and open nerve-ends were frayed, and her fogged mind was rapidly losing control over all of herself.Hell! Why not! Ella knew she wasn't a virgin in the technical sense, any longer, even if no man had ever put his hands on her twenty-three-year-old body before. Anything to stay out of prison. If the man was telling the truth and he was sterile, she didn't have to worry about becoming pregnant. Hell! She would only have to put up with him until she was off parole. Then she would be able to go her own way and lead her own life."Oh!" she gasped out loud, realizing how helpless she was, making no effort to stop him as he unzipped the back of her dress and pulled it from her shoulders. She even got to her feet and helped him remove the garment, after which she took off her underthings of her own volition. She lay down on the bed again, this time totally naked, her creamy white flesh seeming to stare at him as much as he was looking at her. Her pink-rippled breasts with their large areolae looked like two large staring eyes as his hands slowly closed over them. Tiny licking flames of thrilling passion crawled enticingly through her awakening flesh. Small pinpricks of delicious sensation began racing through the tips of her pliantly smooth breasts, the velvety surface rolling beneath his fingers as they reached for her hardened nipples. He compressed each budding pink extension between a thumb and forefinger.Ella was well aware of the burning heat of her insistent parole officer's panting breath as it wafted against her ear. She had never expected to physically succumb even though she had decided to allow him to have his way. Then the man's mouth was once again moving toward her face, his lips locking on hers, wetly and strongly. His tongue flicked between her lips.Ella was unable to keep herself from responding, her own tongue leaping out and thrusting forward into his mouth in response to what he was doing to her. She reacted automatically, kissing as she had never kissed a man before as she realized how delightfully overwhelming and thrilling this man was.Al sucked her tongue all the way into his mouth, greedily anxious for more of her. She was unquestionably one of the most thrilling and arousing women he had ever met. He ground his mouth against hers, and Ella felt as if his kisses were liquid fire.Al eased his head away from hers, and he said, "Believe me, I'm doing this as much for your good as for my own. You'll love it, you'll see."Chapter ThreeAbruptly, the realization of what was about to happen to her suddenly seeped into the young redhead's mind. What had been done to her with wooden broom handles was about to be done to her with flesh and blood and muscle. She thought of possibly breaking away from him and running upstairs. He wouldn't dare follow her. But no, even if she did get away, he still had that glassine envelope, and he would be able to use it to put her away again. Besides, she was so shaky at this point, she was more than certain her legs wouldn't bear her weight.She remained lying on the bed as he released her and got to his feet. Then he was hurriedly undressing. Ella stared and wondered what was there about this man that almost made her want to do this.She shuddered by the time he had removed all his upper clothing. He had a lot of hair on his chest, though it was by no means a forest. He stopped for a moment, leaned down and embraced her solidly, holding her slender, shivering nakedness against his body. The boiler, in the next room, went on, and flooded the room, which had been cooling down, with heat. Ella's hands pressed flatly against his chest and rubbed his masculine nipples, the soft curls of silken hair tickling her palm.Then the man's mouth was once again pasted to hers, once more parting the barrier of her lips, his tongue easily gliding between them, past the barrier of her sharp teeth. She found herself sucking on the oral organ while jabbing furiously at it with the tip of her own tongue.Unconsciously, she allowed her hand to slide over his chest, as well, her fingernails raking through his hairs, touching one of his small, masculine nipples, and then she grabbed the nipple and began squeezing and rolling it between her fingers as he had done to her nipples.The more-than-slightly dizzy young redheaded woman felt her parole officer's hand slowly tracing a path up the tremblingly heated flesh of her shuddering thighs. The heat coming from the boiler washed over the two of them, until, momentarily, her breath suddenly caught in her throat as his fingers continued sliding upward. They parted the sensitive fleshy flanges of her vibrant pussy and slipped carefully, tenderly into the heated wetness to find the quivering inner labia that enshrined her extended clitoris.
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