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Three Hot Tails (Paul Blades)


Three Hot Tails by Paul Blades

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Three hot tales of hot tails, by Paul Blades. Three beautiful young women and three different routes to enslavement. Brenda, an attractive 27 year old social worker, has done something naughty and has to pay. Paula is a lovely young graphic artist with a lifelong desire to submit utterly to a master. Victor is more than happy to grant her wish. Deirdre is a red hot go-go girl at Big Al’s Titillation Emporium and isn’t beyond a little action on the side. She reaches for the stars but crosses the line just once too often. None of the women get quite what they expect. Three short novels adding up to 37,000 words.

Product type: EBook    Published by: bdsmbooks    Published: 9 / 2010

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 37000

Style: BDSM/Bondage - Content: Moderate -    Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

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

Current all-time sales ranking: #1447


Excerpt..


They were in David’s ‘special room’. Brenda was fastened down on his medieval like wooden turntable, her collar chained to it, her ankles and thighs strapped into place. Her wrists were joined behind her back. David was thrusting his remorseless, long, thick cock into her pussy from behind.
It was part of their regular Friday night routine. She had been coming here, three nights a week for over a year. She had no choice really.
The cock was driving Brenda’s passions. It sawed back and forth, caressing the energized interior of her fevered cunt. Her hands, bound behind her back, writhed as her lust rose higher and higher. David’s hands were on her hips, using them as a fulcrum for his fierce, determined thrusts.
You might not believe it, but Brenda wasn’t really like this. During the day, she was a prim social worker at a day care agency. She helped the mothers file for support payments from their wayward husbands or lovers, assisted them with their Medicaid applications, counselled them on landlord tenant problems and a myriad of other things. She had a whole list of public agencies she could refer them to. It was a job she loved and she was a respected, conscientious worker.
Of middle height, about 5’6”, with deep black hair that came down to just below her shoulders, Brenda was an attractive woman. Her breasts were not voluptuous, but more than adequate to satisfy her and the few lovers she had had. 27 years old, she felt that she was in the prime of her life, working at a job she loved, living in a comfortable, well furnished apartment. She had loving friends and a good relationship with her parents and siblings. There was little wrong with her life. Except David, that is.

David was grunting loudly as his climax neared. Brenda’s was coming too. Her breath was laboured, made more difficult by the fact that her chest was pressed up against her knees. She let out a low, almost mournful moan.
Suddenly, as if her moan was a signal for action, David pulled his cock from her oozing crevasse. He spun the turntable around until her mouth was in position. Her lips were spread wide by the ring gag he had installed earlier and David thrust himself inside her mouth, pressing against the entrance to her throat.
“Does the little slut want to come?” he snarled as he thrust his cock back and forth. “I don’t think I’ll let you tonight. Whores don’t get to come. They just swallow their masters’ spume and like it.” He laughed. Brenda moaned from frustration.
Her assailant had a grip of her hair on either side of her head, holding it still. His thighs began to shiver and his head rolled back. “Here it comes fuckbucket!” he called out. “Here it comes!”
He pushed himself in as far as he could go. Brenda started to gag and choke. She could feel the bulbous head of his prick in her throat.
“Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!” David yelled as his fat cock began to throb and pulse within her.
Brenda was straining for air. She started to squeal and strain at her bonds. David paid her no mind as he revelled in the moist heat that surrounded him.
When he was fully done, the last fading spasm of his cock spent, he pulled himself from her throat. Brenda wheezed as she struggled to suck in enough air to overcome her oxygen deficit. Tears were running down her face, snot oozing from her nose. David looked at her and laughed.
He moved over to a side table against the wall and picked up his snifter of brandy, taking a large chug. “Ahhhhhhhh!” he said as it warmed his insides. David was a little under 6’ tall. He had brown hair, cut short. He was at least ten years older than Brenda, more like 15. His chest was broad and hairless. His face stern and handsome.
Brenda had known David for a few years. He was on the board of the social service agency she worked for. He was wealthy and knowledgeable. It was natural that Brenda had turned to him in her crisis. If she had only known what she was getting into, she would certainly have found someone else. Maybe she would have turned herself in. She might have been able to convince the police that it was an accident, or maybe self defence.
Brenda’s last boyfriend had been an abusive prick. She had never thought that she would allow a man to slap her around, call her a stupid cunt, demean her like he did. She had fallen in love with a very different man. Somehow, all of her psyche had become invested in the relationship with Tom. He had become her whole world. She tried to rationalize her acceptance of his abuse by the fact that Tom was having a hard time. His job was going nowhere and he never seemed to be able to get his head above water financially. And afterwards, when she lay crying on the floor, nursing her spit lip or bemoaning the bruises she knew would arise on her flesh the next day; he would say he was sorry. He would smother her with kisses, hold her tight and promise that it would never, ever happen again.
And then one day, Tom had told her that it was all over. It was in her apartment. He had just finished fucking her, up the ass as he especially liked it. Her anus was still burning. The purple bruise under her left eye had almost healed. And he said, “Thanks for the fuck, pig. I’ll remember you fondly.”
Brenda stood there speechless. What could he mean?
He was putting on his clothes. She had expected him to stay the night.
“I don’t want you calling me anymore,” he told her as he buttoned his shirt. “We’re through. I’ve found someone else.”
“Wha…?” was all Brenda could say.
“Yeah, I’m splitting. You were a great fuck, Brenda and you suck cock really good, but Cheryl has tits out to here and is better looking than you. And she’s got money. We’re leaving for her little vacation house down at the beach tonight. I don’t think I’ll tell her that my cock was up your ass. It’ll be funny having her suck it, knowing where it’s been and all.” He laughed heartily.
He had finished dressing. He turned to her, his face mean, his fists clenched. “And if you think that you’re going to tell her about you and me, you better think again. What you’ve seen ain’t nothing to what I’ll do to you if you fuck this up for me. I’ll knock you into next Tuesday!”
As he was exiting the door, he turned to her again. “If you’re good, I’ll come around once in a while and let you blow me.” His laughter echoed down the hall as he left.
Brenda was devastated. She felt dizzy and collapsed to the floor. She cried all night. She was too ashamed to call any of her friends. She couldn’t understand how she could have let him do this to her.
The anger started later. It rose and rose inside her. She thought of all kinds of things she could do to him for revenge. She kept seeing his laughing, cruel face, remembering the insults he had done to her body, her self image, her life. She thought of all the money she had spent on him, all the abuse she had taken.
It was hard to say exactly when she had decided to do it. She had bought a gun a few years ago from a friend, a .38. She had never registered it. It was when she was living down near the rough part of town and she had been scared for her life. Her living circumstances had improved since then, but she never had gotten rid of it.
She spent hours caressing it, holding it in her lap, envisioning Tom’s surprised look when he saw it in her hand.


Excerpt..



They were in David’s ‘special room’. Brenda was fastened down on his medieval like wooden turntable, her collar chained to it, her ankles
and thighs strapped into place. Her wrists were joined behind her back. David was thrusting his remorseless, long, thick cock into her
pussy from behind.

It was part of their regular Friday night routine. She had been coming here, three nights a week for over a year. She had no choice
really.

The cock was driving Brenda’s passions. It sawed back and forth, caressing the energized interior of her fevered cunt. Her hands, bound
behind her back, writhed as her lust rose higher and higher. David’s hands were on her hips, using them as a fulcrum for his fierce,
determined thrusts.

You might not believe it, but Brenda wasn’t really like this. During the day, she was a prim social worker at a day care agency. She
helped the mothers file for support payments from their wayward husbands or lovers, assisted them with their Medicaid applications,
counselled them on landlord tenant problems and a myriad of other things. She had a whole list of public agencies she could refer them to.
It was a job she loved and she was a respected, conscientious worker.

Of middle height, about 5’6”, with deep black hair that came down to just below her shoulders, Brenda was an attractive woman. Her breasts
were not voluptuous, but more than adequate to satisfy her and the few lovers she had had. 27 years old, she felt that she was in the prime
of her life, working at a job she loved, living in a comfortable, well furnished apartment. She had loving friends and a good relationship
with her parents and siblings. There was little wrong with her life. Except David, that is.



David was grunting loudly as his climax neared. Brenda’s was coming too. Her breath was laboured, made more difficult by the fact that
her chest was pressed up against her knees. She let out a low, almost mournful moan.

Suddenly, as if her moan was a signal for action, David pulled his cock from her oozing crevasse. He spun the turntable around until her
mouth was in position. Her lips were spread wide by the ring gag he had installed earlier and David thrust himself inside her mouth,
pressing against the entrance to her throat.

“Does the little slut want to come?” he snarled as he thrust his cock back and forth. “I don’t think I’ll let you tonight. Whores don’t
get to come. They just swallow their masters’ spume and like it.” He laughed. Brenda moaned from frustration.

Her assailant had a grip of her hair on either side of her head, holding it still. His thighs began to shiver and his head rolled back.
“Here it comes fuckbucket!” he called out. “Here it comes!”

He pushed himself in as far as he could go. Brenda started to gag and choke. She could feel the bulbous head of his prick in her throat.


“Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!” David yelled as his fat cock began to throb and pulse within her.

Brenda was straining for air. She started to squeal and strain at her bonds. David paid her no mind as he revelled in the moist heat that
surrounded him.

When he was fully done, the last fading spasm of his cock spent, he pulled himself from her throat. Brenda wheezed as she struggled to
suck in enough air to overcome her oxygen deficit. Tears were running down her face, snot oozing from her nose. David looked at her and
laughed.

He moved over to a side table against the wall and picked up his snifter of brandy, taking a large chug. “Ahhhhhhhh!” he said as it warmed
his insides. David was a little under 6’ tall. He had brown hair, cut short. He was at least ten years older than Brenda, more like 15.
His chest was broad and hairless. His face stern and handsome.

Brenda had known David for a few years. He was on the board of the social service agency she worked for. He was wealthy and
knowledgeable. It was natural that Brenda had turned to him in her crisis. If she had only known what she was getting into, she would
certainly have found someone else. Maybe she would have turned herself in. She might have been able to convince the police that it was an
accident, or maybe self defence.

Brenda’s last boyfriend had been an abusive prick. She had never thought that she would allow a man to slap her around, call her a stupid
cunt, demean her like he did. She had fallen in love with a very different man. Somehow, all of her psyche had become invested in the
relationship with Tom. He had become her whole world. She tried to rationalize her acceptance of his abuse by the fact that Tom was having
a hard time. His job was going nowhere and he never seemed to be able to get his head above water financially. And afterwards, when she
lay crying on the floor, nursing her spit lip or bemoaning the bruises she knew would arise on her flesh the next day; he would say he was
sorry. He would smother her with kisses, hold her tight and promise that it would never, ever happen again.

And then one day, Tom had told her that it was all over. It was in her apartment. He had just finished fucking her, up the ass as he
especially liked it. Her anus was still burning. The purple bruise under her left eye had almost healed. And he said, “Thanks for the
fuck, pig. I’ll remember you fondly.”

Brenda stood there speechless. What could he mean?

He was putting on his clothes. She had expected him to stay the night.

“I don’t want you calling me anymore,” he told her as he buttoned his shirt. “We’re through. I’ve found someone else.”

“Wha…?” was all Brenda could say.

“Yeah, I’m splitting. You were a great fuck, Brenda and you suck cock really good, but Cheryl has tits out to here and is better looking
than you. And she’s got money. We’re leaving for her little vacation house down at the beach tonight. I don’t think I’ll tell her that my
cock was up your ass. It’ll be funny having her suck it, knowing where it’s been and all.” He laughed heartily.

He had finished dressing. He turned to her, his face mean, his fists clenched. “And if you think that you’re going to tell her about you
and me, you better think again. What you’ve seen ain’t nothing to what I’ll do to you if you fuck this up for me. I’ll knock you into next
Tuesday!”

As he was exiting the door, he turned to her again. “If you’re good, I’ll come around once in a while and let you blow me.” His laughter
echoed down the hall as he left.

Brenda was devastated. She felt dizzy and collapsed to the floor. She cried all night. She was too ashamed to call any of her friends.
She couldn’t understand how she could have let him do this to her.

The anger started later. It rose and rose inside her. She thought of all kinds of things she could do to him for revenge. She kept
seeing his laughing, cruel face, remembering the insults he had done to her body, her self image, her life. She thought of all the money
she had spent on him, all the abuse she had taken.

It was hard to say exactly when she had decided to do it. She had bought a gun a few years ago from a friend, a .38. She had never
registered it. It was when she was living down near the rough part of town and she had been scared for her life. Her living circumstances
had improved since then, but she never had gotten rid of it.

She spent hours caressing it, holding it in her lap, envisioning Tom’s surprised look when he saw it in her hand.


Excerpt..




They were in David’s ‘special room’. Brenda was fastened down on his medieval like wooden turntable, her collar chained to it, her ankles

and thighs strapped into place. Her wrists were joined behind her back. David was thrusting his remorseless, long, thick cock into her

pussy from behind.


It was part of their regular Friday night routine. She had been coming here, three nights a week for over a year. She had no choice

really.


The cock was driving Brenda’s passions. It sawed back and forth, caressing the energized interior of her fevered cunt. Her hands, bound

behind her back, writhed as her lust rose higher and higher. David’s hands were on her hips, using them as a fulcrum for his fierce,

determined thrusts.


You might not believe it, but Brenda wasn’t really like this. During the day, she was a prim social worker at a day care agency. She

helped the mothers file for support payments from their wayward husbands or lovers, assisted them with their Medicaid applications,

counselled them on landlord tenant problems and a myriad of other things. She had a whole list of public agencies she could refer them to.

It was a job she loved and she was a respected, conscientious worker.


Of middle height, about 5’6”, with deep black hair that came down to just below her shoulders, Brenda was an attractive woman. Her breasts

were not voluptuous, but more than adequate to satisfy her and the few lovers she had had. 27 years old, she felt that she was in the prime

of her life, working at a job she loved, living in a comfortable, well furnished apartment. She had loving friends and a good relationship

with her parents and siblings. There was little wrong with her life. Except David, that is.





David was grunting loudly as his climax neared. Brenda’s was coming too. Her breath was laboured, made more difficult by the fact that

her chest was pressed up against her knees. She let out a low, almost mournful moan.


Suddenly, as if her moan was a signal for action, David pulled his cock from her oozing crevasse. He spun the turntable around until her

mouth was in position. Her lips were spread wide by the ring gag he had installed earlier and David thrust himself inside her mouth,

pressing against the entrance to her throat.


“Does the little slut want to come?” he snarled as he thrust his cock back and forth. “I don’t think I’ll let you tonight. Whores don’t

get to come. They just swallow their masters’ spume and like it.” He laughed. Brenda moaned from frustration.


Her assailant had a grip of her hair on either side of her head, holding it still. His thighs began to shiver and his head rolled back.

“Here it comes fuckbucket!” he called out. “Here it comes!”


He pushed himself in as far as he could go. Brenda started to gag and choke. She could feel the bulbous head of his prick in her throat.




“Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!” David yelled as his fat cock began to throb and pulse within her.


Brenda was straining for air. She started to squeal and strain at her bonds. David paid her no mind as he revelled in the moist heat that

surrounded him.


When he was fully done, the last fading spasm of his cock spent, he pulled himself from her throat. Brenda wheezed as she struggled to

suck in enough air to overcome her oxygen deficit. Tears were running down her face, snot oozing from her nose. David looked at her and

laughed.


He moved over to a side table against the wall and picked up his snifter of brandy, taking a large chug. “Ahhhhhhhh!” he said as it warmed

his insides. David was a little under 6’ tall. He had brown hair, cut short. He was at least ten years older than Brenda, more like 15.

His chest was broad and hairless. His face stern and handsome.


Brenda had known David for a few years. He was on the board of the social service agency she worked for. He was wealthy and

knowledgeable. It was natural that Brenda had turned to him in her crisis. If she had only known what she was getting into, she would

certainly have found someone else. Maybe she would have turned herself in. She might have been able to convince the police that it was an

accident, or maybe self defence.


Brenda’s last boyfriend had been an abusive prick. She had never thought that she would allow a man to slap her around, call her a stupid

cunt, demean her like he did. She had fallen in love with a very different man. Somehow, all of her psyche had become invested in the

relationship with Tom. He had become her whole world. She tried to rationalize her acceptance of his abuse by the fact that Tom was having

a hard time. His job was going nowhere and he never seemed to be able to get his head above water financially. And afterwards, when she

lay crying on the floor, nursing her spit lip or bemoaning the bruises she knew would arise on her flesh the next day; he would say he was

sorry. He would smother her with kisses, hold her tight and promise that it would never, ever happen again.


And then one day, Tom had told her that it was all over. It was in her apartment. He had just finished fucking her, up the ass as he

especially liked it. Her anus was still burning. The purple bruise under her left eye had almost healed. And he said, “Thanks for the

fuck, pig. I’ll remember you fondly.”


Brenda stood there speechless. What could he mean?


He was putting on his clothes. She had expected him to stay the night.


“I don’t want you calling me anymore,” he told her as he buttoned his shirt. “We’re through. I’ve found someone else.”


“Wha…?” was all Brenda could say.


“Yeah, I’m splitting. You were a great fuck, Brenda and you suck cock really good, but Cheryl has tits out to here and is better looking

than you. And she’s got money. We’re leaving for her little vacation house down at the beach tonight. I don’t think I’ll tell her that my

cock was up your ass. It’ll be funny having her suck it, knowing where it’s been and all.” He laughed heartily.


He had finished dressing. He turned to her, his face mean, his fists clenched. “And if you think that you’re going to tell her about you

and me, you better think again. What you’ve seen ain’t nothing to what I’ll do to you if you fuck this up for me. I’ll knock you into next

Tuesday!”


As he was exiting the door, he turned to her again. “If you’re good, I’ll come around once in a while and let you blow me.” His laughter

echoed down the hall as he left.


Brenda was devastated. She felt dizzy and collapsed to the floor. She cried all night. She was too ashamed to call any of her friends.

She couldn’t understand how she could have let him do this to her.


The anger started later. It rose and rose inside her. She thought of all kinds of things she could do to him for revenge. She kept

seeing his laughing, cruel face, remembering the insults he had done to her body, her self image, her life. She thought of all the money

she had spent on him, all the abuse she had taken.


It was hard to say exactly when she had decided to do it. She had bought a gun a few years ago from a friend, a .38. She had never

registered it. It was when she was living down near the rough part of town and she had been scared for her life. Her living circumstances

had improved since then, but she never had gotten rid of it.


She spent hours caressing it, holding it in her lap, envisioning Tom’s surprised look when he saw it in her hand.



Reviews

I prefer his novels to his short stories 3 out of 5 (JBC)

violent 3 out of 5

Best Selling Books This Year By Paul Blades

Three Hot Tails

Three Hot Tails

 

 

 

Best Selling Books This Year By Paul Blades

Three Hot Tails

Three Hot Tails

 

 

 

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