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Klitzman's Predators Book Three (Paul Blades)


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Harry must pay the price for disobedience. He must prove himself worthy of his reputation and the trust of his superiors. So far, he's skated. Now he must jump with both feet into the gang's depredations. Poor Mara just wants to go home, but Mama Ojugo has other ideas. It's time for Mara to get the biggie learnin about the biggie wannas as her transformation into a whore continues.

Product type: EBook    Published by: author - self-published    Published: 11 / 2014

No. words: 103000

Style: Erotic Domination - M/F, Erotic Domination - F/F, Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


I was sitting in a leather easy chair that faced the 27” television. The girl looked at me dolefully, gave a brief look over her shoulder towards the kitchen where Estelle was brewing the night’s food for our guests, and then back at me. If she hoped for a reprieve from me, she had another thing coming. While I sympathized with her about being made into a lesbo whore and all, I had nothing to do with that. I was just a normal type guy with a hard on from all the squiggling the dish on TV was doing. And she’d probably be giving out blowjobs right and left in a few weeks anyway, so what difference would one more make?
She seemed to be waiting for some signal from me so I put my finger into a little hook and twiggled it in a ‘come hither’ gesture. She gave a grimace and shuffled her way over to me. I had spread my legs and she insinuated herself between them. She made a motion like she was going to kneel down, but I told her to wait a minute and to come closer.
When she was standing a few inches away from my knees, I leaned forward in my chair and placed my hands on her hips. They were nice and curvy and her skin was soft. There was a little white band over each hip from her bathing suit just below where the belt ran tightly around her waist. The girl was definitely a keeper. I ran my hand across her flat, tan belly. She gave a little jump when I touched her there. Then I ran my hands down her firm, brown thighs, down the outsides and then up the insides. I forced her thighs apart as far as they would go and took a look at the barrier that separated me from her presumably luscious central core.
The glossy red heart was laying snugly against her outer labia. I ran my fingers down the outside edge of it and discovered that at the bottom the point of the heart was laying between the bottom of her love lips and that just a teensy, weensy little bit of them was showing, the little chain running between them separating them slightly. It was so tantalizing to be so close to every, or well almost every, man’s fondest dream and yet so far. I took the apex of her slit in between my fingers and gave it a nice squeeze. I looked up at the girl’s face. She gave out a muted whine. Her lips were pursed together. What a delight, I thought.
I had her turn around so I could see her ass. There was a white triangle that covered most of it. I slid my hand over her rear cheeks, enjoying the softness and firmness. I would bet that even after five years or so of fucking those Spanish ladies it would still retain most of its allure. The girl’s bound hands were closed into little fists and her knuckles were turning white. She would get over that rather quickly if she wanted to avoid day after day of abuse. For my purposes it didn’t matter. I could have slapped her around a bit until she cut the shit, but I didn’t want to have her all sobbing and blubbering while she had my cock in her mouth.
I had her turn around again and told her to kneel. The way her hands were bound behind her, her fine, slightly upward turning breasts were jutted out nicely. I took hold of them, caressing and massaging them. I don’t know what it is about the feel of a nice set of tits. I guess it’s because we guys don’t have them. The girl’s were just about a perfect balance between firmness and resilience. I watched her face as I took my time enjoying their texture, their fullness, their youth and beauty. I had noticed that Estelle had laid a lash across the girl’s skin a good bit when she first got her, but in the last couple of weeks she had mostly laid off. There were only a few faint lines here and there. It was a good sign that the girl was eminently trainable. It would save her a lot of problems later.
My cock was as hard as a steel baton by now. And the girl’s face was a masque of dourness. Close up you could see the barely mature girl behind the dolled up face. She was clearly not enjoying our little tête-à-tête, although I did notice that her nipples had become as hard as rocks and her chest had become a little flushed. But that didn’t make up for her watery eyes or the dismal turn in her lips.
Enough was enough. She would learn better how to disguise her revulsions later. I released her breasts and leaned back so I could open my fly. When my one eyed friend had emerged, I gave the girl a little nod.
With only a moment’s hesitation, the girl leaned forward and bent her neck. Her curls fell in a little curtain about her pretty face. I closed my eyes as I felt her lips brush against the crown of my cock and released a little hiss as she descended my pole.
I let her work at her own pace for a while. She seemed to have only one trick in her book, as she rhythmically rode down and up my pole. She kept her lips pursed tight against it. I had taken advantage of Estelle’s generosity with the girl’s mouth before, but I had never spent any effort at refining her skills. Usually Estelle would make the offer after we had done cleaning up the girls downstairs and I was just anxious to relieve my pent up lusts. But now I was going to have to grade the girl’s workmanship and I felt it a little unfair if nobody had ever given her any lessons.
I laid my hand in her hair and pulled her off my prick. Her lips made a small popping sound as they came off.
“What’s your name?” I asked her softly.
Her lips were trembling, afraid, perhaps, that she had failed the test already.
“S-Stephanie,” she stuttered back in the smallest, most unhappy voice she could muster.
“I’m going to do you a little favor, Stephanie,” I told her. “I’m going to give you a little lesson in cocksucking. You’ll probably be doing a lot of it in the near future, so its better you learn now than at the wrong end of a whip. Okay?”
Her lips were really trembling now. A tear escaped from the corner of her left eye and swam down her cheek. She didn’t say anything. In all fairness, she was probably pretty scared of me and more than a little anxious about what the future held for her. I don’t think Estelle had told her about the women’s club yet, nor was she likely to until she actually got there.
“On the other hand,” I continued when I saw that no response was forthcoming, “I could let you keep doing what you were doing, get my rocks off and then enjoy the show downstairs as Estelle whups the tar out of you. Which do you think is better?”
I could see that the girl was about to break out into hysterical sobs. I patted her on the head and caressed her face softly. “Come on, Stephanie,” I told her gently. “That’s not going to get you anywhere. I’m going to get my blowjob one way or the other. If Estelle hears you bawling, she’ll come out here and give you holy hell. Then she’ll make you get back down on your knees and make you do it anyway. Be a little smart. You’ve had a tough break, but there’s no reason to make things worse than they have to be. What do you say?”
She grimaced at my assessment of her predicament and nodded her head.
“Okay,” I said. “What I want you to do first is to place your lips just on the head of my cock. Make your lips really soft and just give it a gentle suck. Can you do that?”
She nodded her head.


Harry is "Everyman"a tortured soul that is trapped in his own humanity. "....Time is a funny thing. It is a long string of nows that extend into the past and into the future. We experience them one by one, like the ticking of a clock...." Paul Blades is one of the best...Once a pony girl...always a pony girl 5 out of 5 (Elliott)

Harry is "Everyman"a tortured soul that is trapped in his own humanity. "....Time is a funny thing. It is a long string of nows that extend into the past and into the future. We experience them one by one, like the ticking of a clock...." Paul Blades is one of the best...Once a pony girl...always a pony girl 5 out of 5 (Elliott)

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This story has been self-published by the author

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