Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 23
March 30, 2019
The Perfect Submissive Box Set: Preorder Now!
PRE-ORDER NOW!
OUT ON 5th APRIL
“Readers, hold on… it’s a crazy ride. If you like your erotica dark and dirty, then this is the book for you.” The Romance Reviews
The Fifth Floor
Hidden on the fifth floor of the Fables Hotel’s respectable facade, five specially adapted rooms wait; ready to cater for the kinky requirements of its select guests.
When Mrs Peters, the mistress of the hotel’s exclusive entertainment facility, meets the new booking clerk, Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.
Under the tutelage of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with her unexpected training schedule, the increasingly erotic chill she experiences each time she survives a new level of correction, and a truly sexy exercise routine…
The Retreat
No sooner has Jess Sanders embraced her role as submissive, when Mrs Peters, informs her that she and Miss Sarah have been loaned to The Retreat; an adult establishment in the remote glens of Scotland. Suddenly, Jess finds herself caught in a mind-bendingly erotic fairytale experience at the hands of the unyielding David Proctor, and his staff.
Desperate to return to her submissive life on the fifth floor, Jess finds herself trapped. David Proctor wants to keep her for himself…
Knowing Her Place
Desperate to see Mrs Peters, Miss Sarah, and the Fables Hotel again, Jess discovers she can win her freedom is she agrees to go on a specialised quest.
With a list of five unknown addresses in her hand, the submissive is driven from The Retreat in Scotland towards England.
With no idea of what or who awaits her at each stop, all Miss Jess Sanders can do is hope that her journey will eventually take her back to the fifth floor, where she truly knows her place…
Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
March 29, 2019
Something for the Weekend: The Fifth Floor
Something for the weekend?
I thought I’d share a little from my BDSM novel, The Fifth Floor (Book One of The Perfect Submissive trilogy) this week.
Blurb
Hidden behind the respectable façade of the Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire, five specially adapted rooms await visitors to the fifth floor. Here, Mrs Peters is mistress of an adult entertainment facility pandering to the kinky requirements of its guests. When she meets Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.
Under the tutelage of dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with an erotically demanding training schedule and a truly sexy exercise regime. But will she come to terms with her new career?
Meanwhile, Mrs Peters is temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fables’ fifth floor by artist, Sam Wheeler – who she believes can help her in her mission to transform Jess into the perfect submissive…
In the following extract, Miss Jess Sanders has been working at the Fables Hotel for a few days now, and has been introduced to the pseudo school room. We join the action were the poor girl has been tied to an art table for what seems like hours, and now, at last, physical relief has arrived…
‘Master Philips, this is Miss Jess Sanders, the new administration clerk, and soon, well … let’s just say, I have high hopes for this young lady.’
Jess’s brain galloped off at a number of conflicting tangents as Lee nodded in evident understanding. An understanding Jess certainly did not share. What high hopes?
‘While you were lying here enjoying yourself, Miss Sanders, Master Philips here, has proffered me a great service.’
Jess said nothing, her eyes trained on the white tabletop before her, not wanting to see the predatory look of either of the people who towered over her. She could feel the sexual tension rising in the stale air of the room, and her body tingled.
Daring another glance at the young man, Jess took in the short dark hair, the slim body, the midnight blue eyes, and the unmistakable bulge of a hard cock beneath his suit trousers, which made her pussy give an involuntary spasm against the brush.
‘As you can see, Master Philip, Miss Sanders has been corked with one of the heftier classrooms paintbrushes. Just a little something to keep that untutored body amused in my absence.’
Jess closed her eyes as she heard Mrs Peters talking about her as if she was a mere thing, a toy to be played with. The idea appalled her, and yet, somehow the thought that they could do whatever they liked to her, sent another shot of desire through her abused frame, confusing her further.
Lee said nothing, but watched as Mrs Peters’ hand went towards the bristles that extruded from the girl’s cunt. Jess groaned as it was abruptly pulled out, leaving her pussy emptier than ever.
Sardonically observing Lee’s aroused state, the manageress asked him, ‘Would you like your dick to replace the brush handle for Miss Sanders? I’m sure that right now she is feeling particularly in need of filling, and I know you have a cock worthy of the job.’
Without raising his head, Lee replied, ‘Thank you Mrs Peters, I would.’
‘Then assist me.’
Swiftly Jess’s bindings were untied. It felt strange to be free, and the clerk’s shoulders cracked as she moved, flexing her arms and legs to get her blood circulating again. Jess wasn’t allowed her freedom for long however, as Mrs Peters yanked her arms sharply behind her back, re-tying her wrists, and shoving her into the larger and more comfortable teacher’s chair, her butt on the very edge of the seat, her legs spread.
‘As you are aware, Master Philips, I consider patience one of life’s greatest virtues, a lesson I think, by the look of desperation that is shining so blatantly in Miss Sanders’ eyes, it is high time she learnt.’
‘Yes Mrs Peters.’ Lee deflated slightly as he realised he would have to wait a little longer for his reward, but felt better when Laura passed him the paintbrush, knowing precisely what he was supposed to do with it.
Jess, her eyes wide, her throat drier than ever, watched as Lee ran the brush’s soft bristles between his fingers. Kneeling before Jess, he placed the tip of the paintbrush on the very end of her right nipple. Gasping with shock at the sensitivity of the touch, Jess began to shiver against the sweeping strokes Lee focused on her breast.
‘I must congratulate you, Master Philips.’ Mrs Peters spoke with approval. ‘You have an excellent technique there, arousing, and stimulating, without being quite enough to make your subject come.’
Jess groaned. Why wouldn’t they let her come? As the deliciously torturous brush moved onto her left tit, tears of desire and frustration gathered at the corner of her eyes. She knew she was minutes away from begging. Begging to be fucked, begging to be allowed to come; begging for a warm mouth to come to her pussy, her chest, her mouth.
Her quivers turned to shakes as her stomach knotted with the build up of a fast approaching climax.
A gesture from Laura and Lee dropped the brush, causing tears of desperation to course down Jess’s cheeks. ‘Now, Miss Sanders, you have to learn to pace yourself. This is as much for our enjoyment as yours, and we are not ready to let you come yet.’
Blinking in disbelief at her superior’s words, Jess felt the tears dry against her face, as once again the brush was employed by Lee, this time along her tethered arms, her unsteady legs and her taut stomach. Concentrating hard on not pleading for more direct attention, Jess tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs, and the increasingly obvious presence of Lee’s erection.
Jess’s persistent moans turned to helpless whimpers as Mrs Peters finally broke the tension, ‘You may remove your clothes, Lee.’
The young man moved with uncaring speed and Jess gulped as she saw the neatly circumcised penis that was pointing at her hungrily, slide into the waiting rubber.
Ordered to sit up straight, Jess obeyed as the barman gratefully sank his length into Jess’s slick snatch. Their mutual sighs of relief made Mrs Peters issue a sharp sneering laugh, ‘So young and so desperate.’
Picking up the brush, the manageress began to stroke the cream bristles back over Jess’s tormented nipples, as Lee heaved against her, slapping his backside and balls against her in his urgency to come.
Jess screamed out her climax, her body rocking in shocked pent up pleasure.
As Jess slumped against the barman, Mrs Peters dropped the brush to the floor. ‘You see, Miss Sanders, some things are so much better if they are promised, but withheld for a while. If you are made to wait, you appreciate things all the more. Don’t you think?’
‘Yes, Mrs Peters.’ Jess spoke automatically through breathless lips. There really wasn’t anything else she could say…
****
eBooks
US Kindle- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077XW59P2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
Canada Kindle- https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B077XW59P2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1512491682&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+jaybee
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/765157
B&N – ebook – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fifth-floor-kay-jaybee/1127595291?ean=2940154644478
Paperbacks
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xxxx
March 22, 2019
Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day 3
It’s time to sit down and enjoy a moment’s full on kink.
Something for the weekend?
A Kink a Day – Book Three
From the extreme kink of a wedding at a city S&M club, a deliciously erotic rendition on a double bass, an imaginative take on a set of brushes, and beyond, A Kink a Day Book Three provides eight bite-sized moments of lust-fuelled distraction. One for every day of the week—plus an additional fantasy thrown in to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
(A Kink a Day Book Three contains stories previously published Quick Kink One and Two.)
The Bride Wore Rubber
If I had been a newspaper journalist reporting on the wedding I would have used the headline, ‘The Bride Wore Rubber.’ Red rubber to be precise. Not in dress form, but sparingly, in the manner befitting the chief slave of an exclusive S&M club owner.
Thin straps of rubber circled her neck and supported a harness, which looped around her ample tits, pushing them up unnaturally high. Her flat stomach was bare, but her legs were tightly encased in rubber stockings, which moulded themselves perfectly to the contours of her body, outlining her firm thighs and slender calves. This skin-tight covering stopped short of her backside, revealing her round tanned arse and her smoothly shaved pussy in all their glory.
There was an elegant dignity about the girl. She was tall, slim, blonde and conventionally beautiful, but there was more to her than that. A quiet strength seemed to emanate from her, a strength that the addition of a red eye-mask, blinding her better than any bridal-veil, didn’t diminish. A leather lead was clipped to a matching choker which was, in turn, secured around her slender neck. The choker, in deference to the occasion, was studded with three small diamonds.
As the time for the ceremony drew near, I stood amongst the oddly semi-dressed assemblage of guests. They had broken into two clusters, one on each side of the club’s dancehall, leaving a makeshift aisle running down its centre.
At the end of this aisle, awaiting his slave-bride, stood Michael. I don’t know his surname, but I do know he is a very powerful man, with powerful friends, who like to play dangerous games. He gave off an air of quite arrogant control as he surveyed the scene before him. He, unlike his guests, was wearing full wedding regalia, a grey morning suit, cravat and top hat. Handsome in a rugby player kind of way, Michael stood head and shoulders above his best-man, whose chest was bare, and whose black leather trousers squeaked slightly as he paced up and down the aisle, waiting edgily for the procession to begin.
From my privileged place at the side of the crowd, I glanced towards the doors. The increased noise of activity coming from behind them indicated that the bridal party was almost ready. I looked towards the rather uncomfortable reverend, who was waiting for what, I’m sure he hoped, would be a swift service.
I tensed, as did every guest in the room, as Mendelssohn’s Wedding March struck up over the clubs sound system, and the hall doors swung open.
The immediate whoops and cat calls from the overheated guests showed their instant approval of the party’s attire.
Holding the bride’s lead was a large man, who like the groom, wore a morning suit. A whisper from the crowd informed me that he was the brides’ future brother-in-law, and instantly I could see the family likeness. The solid chin, the square frame to the body, the arrogant dark blue eyes.
The bride followed him, blindly, sedately, humbly, on all fours. She crawled along, her breasts swinging beneath her, her arse burning with sharp red wields, that had obviously been administered by a whip only moments before. In addition, the bride had received an extra facet to her outfit. A string of red Thai beads had been threaded into her anus. I could only imagine how she must feel, debased and humiliated before this mass of largely familiar faces.
Two bridesmaids completed the group. Both similarly bedecked in skimpy white rubber harnesses and leggings, their faces were solemn and bowed. These were Michael’s other two personal slaves. I wondered if they were jealous of their colleague’s status, or if they were relieved that it wasn’t them blinded and on all fours in front of the entire club membership.
As the bride reached the makeshift altar, the crowd bunched forward, each person eager to watch the ceremony at close quarters.
I slipped to the front of the room, manoeuvring my way to a space behind the vicar, where a hired, wide-eyed, camcorder operator already stood, his mouth open in disbelief.
On reaching her Master, the brides blindfold was eased up, and she kissed his shoes, as the lead was passed to the groom.
Michael looked down approvingly at his slave for a second, before allowing her to stand next to him. She rose with amazingly controlled poise, making sure the beads didn’t have a chance to escape from their intimate confinement, and therefore denying her intended the excuse to publicly punish her.
The vicar began the service, and with what seemed an alarming adherence to tradition in the circumstances, the wedding speeches and vows began, just as if we’d been stood in any church or registry office in the country. I listened intently over the background buzz of the guest’s subdued chatter. The bride’s name was Mary. I wondered if her husband would ever use it, or if she’d be called Slave for the rest of her life.
When it was time for the groom to pass his slave her wedding ring my stomach contracted as, rather than a ring, the best man passed the groom what looked like a silver staple gun, but what I soon discovered was actually a piercing device.
The expression on the bride’s face showed that she hadn’t expected that. I watched intently as the groom bent and sucked hard at Mary’s left nipple, pulling it with his teeth until it stood proud and firm. Then on a pre-arranged signal, one of the bridesmaids stepped forward and wiped a small cloth, presumably of antiseptic, over the extant nipple. Once that had been applied, Michael wasted no time before putting the gun in place, piercing and ringing his wife like a chattel.
The bride’s cries of pain as the gold band was permanently secured onto her were partially drowned out by the booming voice of the clergyman saying, ‘by the giving and receiving of this ring, I now pronounce you Man and Wife, Master and Slave.’
I scribbled frantically into my notebook, as, like every eye in the room, I observed the silent tear streaked face of the bride. She was turned slowly, so that the whole room could see her newly swollen tit with its golden accessory. The congregation cheered manically as the vicar raised his arms and cried, ‘You may now kiss the bride.’
Nodding his thanks to the vicar who hastily departed from the room, Michael turned his bride to face him, and lifting her bowed head to his, kissed her tenderly, so tenderly that I wondered whether there was a genuine feeling of love there. This thought only lasted for a second, as he roughly pushed Mary to her knees, making the bead tail clatter as it hit the floor.
Michael called in a voice of authority, ‘Ladies and Gentleman, the wedding party will adjourn to my private study, you guests may amuse yourself freely, and then, in one hour, dinner will be served.’
His last few words were almost buried beneath the violent eruption of noise from the dance floor, as an instant orgy exploded around me. It took only seconds for groups and couples of men and women, women and women, and men and men, to be pushed up against one another, mouths, tits, hands and cocks everywhere.
I however, had been instructed to follow the wedding party.
When I reached the large old fashioned style study, I was offered a leather chair in the corner of the room, alongside my still stunned filming partner. My breathing had become rather shallow, and I was all too aware that the events I’d witnessed had had a rather unprofessional effect on me. I attempted to compose myself, for I was sure that things were about to get worse…
****
You can read the rest of the story in A Kink a Day- Book Three.
Don’t forget you can find all three books from the series here – mybook.to/AKinkaDayTrilogy
Happy reading
Kay xx
March 15, 2019
Something for the weekend: Wednesday on Thursday
While I’m away teaching a smutty writing workshop at Eroticon in London, I thought I’d leave you with the prologue from my sexy MFF menage novella, Wednesday on Thursday.
Blurb
There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.
Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the café stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.
The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.
It’s totally harmless…
…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.
After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.
Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.
A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…
***
Prologue
Sat at her usual table, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her latte, Wednesday began her daily cycle of speculation. Who was he? Did he come into the cafe at other times and fixate on other customers? What was going through his mind while he observed her so intently? Why didn’t it bother her?
Most men noticed Wednesday’s chest first; some opted for checking out her arse. A rare few went further with their assessment, and engaged her in conversation before they tried their luck.
But not this man; the one she referred to as the coffee guy.
With a double shot espresso in his hand, the first time he’d set eyes on Wednesday, the coffee guy had started with an unashamed assessment of her chest, then, over a period of several weeks, studied her from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes.
Instinct told Wednesday to avoid the coffee guy at all costs. The way he examined her with his enquiring midnight blue eyes was so unsettling. And yet…
Whenever Wednesday walked into the cafe she frequented during her lunch break, the coffee guy would be there. From the moment she took her first step through the door, his focus would shift from his drink to the queue of customers, where it would become fixed upon her.
She thought she’d imagined it at first, but as time had gone by, Wednesday had become increasingly convinced it really was her he was watching.
It had crossed her mind that maybe she should be scared, that this man could be some sort of voyeuristic stalker. But Wednesday didn’t feel threatened; just intrigued and aroused, although she wasn’t sure why.
Only once had he spoken to her.
A swapped lunch break with her friend Carol had placed Wednesday behind the coffee guy in the queue.
Her coffee had already been in her hand when he’d stepped back and accidentally knocked into her, spilling the beverage down her front in a breathtaking cascade of wet heat.
Wednesday had watched helplessly as the liquid seeped through her black shirt, ran down her purple pencil skirt, and travelled on an unstoppable route into her boots.
Too stunned to talk, she’d tugged the wet material of her shirt outwards, not caring that she might be giving the world a generous view of her cleavage.
‘Wednesday, are you okay?’ The barista behind the counter had rushed to her side, pushing a wad of paper napkins into her hands. ‘You can use the staffroom if you like. There are spare T-shirts in there. Help yourself.’
Feeling like an unwilling contestant in a wet T-shirt competition, Wednesday had rushed towards the door marked Staff Only.
It was only once she’d walked into the staffroom that she realised the man who’d caused the accident had followed her.
‘Your name is Wednesday?’
‘Yes.’
‘I find that rather pleasing.’
Then, without a word of apology for ruining her clothes and potentially scalding her, the coffee guy had disappeared.
All Wednesday had been left with was the lingering blaze of his navy blue eyes, which had heated her flesh just as much as the spilt drink…
Buy Links
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N5SOMT0?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
***
March 7, 2019
Something for the weekend: Take Control
This weekend I’m taking a another dip into Take Control .
Dinner with Tess anyone?
Blurb
Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission is a collection of toe curlingly sexy tales of bondage and female submission from the pen of best selling writer Kay Jaybee. From a spankingly delicious Dinner With Tess, to a Staged public sex fantasy, an unforgettable alfresco hosing in Deluged, a kinky scientific Experiment, and the realisation of a long held threesome fantasy in The Necklace, Take Control offers five bite sized stories that will satisfy any lover quality erotica.
Here’s an extract from Dinner With Tess
Tess risked a glance in the stranger’s direction. She felt her pulse quicken anxiously as he noticed her furtive look, and with slow purposeful movements, approached. When he told her his name was Jon, and that he was going to buy her a drink, Tess’s mouth hadn’t been able to find the words to say anything, so he’d simply gone and fetched one anyway.
From that moment, she had been ensnared, hypnotised by Jon’s strength, his quiet authority, and the promise of an undiscovered lust, which seemed to reflect back at her from his deep shining eyes.
Tess had spent the early part of the morning in the kitchen. This was to be the first time Jon introduced her to his friends, and Tess had suggested she cook for them. A roast chicken perhaps? Something warm and welcoming to greet them on their return from the photography club meeting they were attending. Jon had smiled his sexy smile and agreed that a trussed-up bird sounded exactly like something they’d all appreciate. Tess had been thrilled when he congratulated her idea by fucking her unceremoniously against the kitchen door.
She’d never met anyone like him before. Jon seemed consumed by lust, and, even though it had been almost a month since they’d met, Tess still found it hard to believe she was the centre of his attention.
As he was obviously a dominant man, she had been quickly awarded the role of submissive; and to her surprise, and perhaps aided by her natural reticence, had discovered that she rather liked being told how to behave, what to wear, and what to say.
Jon’s laughing voice echoed through the hallway and into the kitchen as Tess went to greet his friends. ‘Here she is!’ Jon’s arm swept around his girlfriend. ‘Tess, meet Jack and Ed, my friends from the club.’
‘Hello.’ She spoke clearly, trying to cover her shyness. As she shook their hands, Tess couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable by the way they looked at her. It was as if they were assessing her in some way, and she suddenly felt very aware of the shortness of her denim skirt and the thinness of her white cotton blouse.
‘Most lovely.’ Jack nodded approvingly at Jon.
‘She’ll do well.’ Ed’s eyes x-rayed Tess as he spoke.
A private shiver shot up Tess’s spine. ‘Do well for what?…’
****
If you’d like to find out what happens to Tess, you can buy Take Control from all good e-retailers, including-
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HYI8BHA http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00HYI8BHA
Happy reading,
Kay xx
February 28, 2019
Something for the weekend: A Sticky Situation
A little erotic romance for you this weekend. Time to indulge in some conference time kink with A Sticky Situation.
Blurb-
If there is a paving stone to trip over, or a drink to knock over, then Sally Briers will trip over it or spill it. Yet somehow Sally is the successful face of marketing for a major pharmaceutical company; much to the disbelief of her new boss, Cameron James.
Forced to work together on a week-long conference in an Oxford hotel, Sally is dreading spending so much time with arrogant new boy Cameron; whose presence somehow makes her even clumsier than usual.
Cameron on the other hand, just hopes that he’ll be able to stay professional, and keep his irrational desire to lick up all the accidently split food and drink that is permanently to be found down Sally’s temptingly curvy body, all to himself.
It could be a very long week- unless Cameron can find a way of making Sally slop so much of her after show champagne, that he has no choice but to march her off and relieve her of her sodden clothing… He is sure that, if he could find a way to stop Sally resenting him taking her previous bosses job, then they could enjoy no end of sticky situations together…
This novella was inspired by my own total and non-stop clumsiness- and habit of dropping toast and marmalade down my front…
As the shower burnt its jet of water into his head and shoulders, Cameron scrubbed his body furiously with soap, trying to wash away all thoughts of Sally. It had been years since he’d let a woman get to him like this. What worried him most was that he didn’t just want to sleep with her. He actually wanted her to like him. This was new territory for Cameron James. As he stood there, beneath the steaming deluge, he couldn’t stop himself from envisaging exactly what he’d like to do with her.
He saw her bent at the end of his bed, waiting for him to kiss her firm arse.
He visualised her lying on her back, her legs wide open. Sally beaming up at him as he lowered himself onto her; her chest swollen and her nipples hard as he ate them, his thick cock sinking into her moist channel.
Cameron could almost taste her as he felt his dick go rigid where he stood, droplets of water cascading off it as, with eyes firmly closed, her saw his mouth coming to Sally’s indescribably soft mound. In his mind he drank from her, the heated water of the shower combining with her liquid, sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Sally was moaning quietly, one hand leaving his head as she squeezed herself, playing her own fingertips across her beautiful almond tinted nipples.
Steadying one hand on the cubicle wall, Cameron’s fist came to his erection as his thoughts became more graphic, more urgent. He pumped slowly at first, as he saw Sally crouched next to him, the light pressure of her small palms pushing him to his feet so she could wrap her lips around his shaft. At first, she’d simply lick the tip enquiringly, as though she was trying a new flavoured ice cream for the very first time. Then, she’d speed up, lapping him with extended strokes, punctuating each move with a kiss to his balls; her nails discovering each inch of his hips and thighs.
Cameron’s whole frame shuddered, his wrist moving faster and faster along his length, the water almost forgotten as it pounded into his bent neck and ran down his back. Nothing mattered but the images in his head and the action of his hand. Sally had engulfed his cock in her mouth now. Sucking and teasing him out, almost stretching his pole, she was drawing him into her, until he was securely within her throat.
He could feel his orgasm rising, his brain flashing with differing shots of Sally as he wanked, of her lips at his dick, of his face between her legs, or her wet dress, clinging to the outline of her curves so temptingly, of how he’d marvelled at his ability not to grab her in the lift and tell her she was driving him nuts, and that he was a nice guy really. Of him slurping fallen food from her neck, of kissing her mouth, her breasts, her thighs; his hands everywhere as he stared into her beautiful emerald eyes.
As spunk spattered against the side of the shower unit’s tiles, Cameron’s eyes flew back open, his chest letting out a pent up exhalation of air via a guttural groan through his throat. ‘Enough,’ he panted into the small rectangular space. ‘Time to stop dreaming and actually do something about this!’
****
Or you can buy A Sticky Situation from Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all other e-book and paperback retailers.
Happy Reading
Kay xx
February 22, 2019
Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Three
It’s time to wind down from the working week and look forward to some time out. This weekend why not indulge in a little kink? A Kink a Day: Book Three to be exact!
Here’a an extract from the first story…
Brushed
‘Brushes?’
Leah stared down at the expensive gift wrap she’d just carefully undone.
This was the first birthday she’d celebrated with Callum, and Leah had expected something special. In fact, he’d promised her something special- something personal. The way in which he’d said it had made Leah assume she was going to receive some lingerie or maybe some sort of sex toy; a gift they could definitely enjoy together.
In her lap however, placed neatly side by side in a red silk lined wooden box lay, not the latest high-tech vibrator or a set of lacy underwear, but three different sized brushes. Backed with polished oak wood, one looked like a posh scrubbing brush, one was a pincushion style hairbrush, and the last was rather like a toothbrush, but was just a little too thin for that function. With its long slim wooden handle, the only use Leah could think of for it was to clean the spout of a teapot.
‘Yes. I really have bought you some brushes for your 28th birthday.’ Gazing over the breakfast hotel’s table into his girlfriend’s eyes, Callum saw a frisson of confused desire flicker across her face as the added, ‘They are however, very special brushes.’
Callum’s dark eyes had taken on an even deeper chestnut than they had done last night, when he’d made love to Leah with a thorough mind blowing fuck that had screamed professionalism, and left her gasping with the type of a blissful body shock that she’d never experienced before. ‘I promise that these brushes will turn out to be the best birthday present you have ever received- ever.’
***
Stories included in this anthology include, The Bride Wore Rubber, The Cave, On Show and more…
Blurb:
Eight hot erotic fantasies – one for each night of the week – and a spare…
From the extreme kink of a wedding at a city S&M club, a deliciously erotic rendition on a double bass, an imaginative take on a set of brushes, and beyond, A Kink a Day Book Three provides eight bite-sized moments of lust-fuelled distraction. One for every day of the week—plus an additional fantasy thrown in to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
All three A Kink a Day books are out now!
Happy reading everyone- ENJOY!
Kay xx
February 15, 2019
Something for the Weekend: The Fifth Floor
The weekend, as the bonus, novella length, finale to The Perfect Submissive trilogy, The New Room, has just been released, I thought I’d take you back to the beginning again.
Let’s go the The Fifth Floor and meet Miss Jess Sanders as she starts her adventure into the (so far unknown) world of the BDSM submissive…
…Jess was sat at her desk, a half eaten sandwich in one hand; the fingers of her other hand dancing over the computer keyboard. Laura watched her through the office window for a few moments before confidently stepping into the room, interrupting the clerk without hesitation. ‘Mr Davies informs me he has not yet had time to complete your preliminary tour of the hotel.’
Understanding precisely where the manageress intended to take her, Jess spoke carefully, ‘I’ve seen most of it, but not all.’
Without confirming the clerk’s suspicions, Laura said, ‘I have a few moments, so if you’d like to walk this way I’ll complete that area of your training.’ She pointed towards the office door, ‘You are bound to be asked for directions around the place by our guests and it doesn’t look very professional if a member of staff gets lost herself, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘I would, Mrs Peters.’
Although she’d now worked at the Fables for just over a week, Jess still hadn’t looked her boss in the eye once, a fact that sent a buzz of conviction through Mrs Peters; her initial instincts about the girl had been correct.
‘Are you happy here so far, Miss Sanders?’
‘Yes, Mrs Peters. Thank you.’ Jess muttered her response, almost managing to glance directly at her superior, but falling short at her shoulders. Laura’s heartbeat increased in response to the girl’s natural deference. Jess Sanders was just so perfect for what she had in mind.
As they walked towards the staff lift Laura attempted to improve the flow of conversation, ‘And I don’t think you have yet been introduced to all the other members of staff?’
‘Not yet, no.’ Again Jess spoke cautiously, and Laura knew from the expression on her face that she was both fearful and curious about meeting anyone who kept their business arrangements entirely to the Fables upper storey.
‘We are one member of staff down at the moment; one of my assistants has left us for pastures new. I’m searching for a replacement. Master Lee Philips, who works in the bar downstairs, helps me out as and when required, but it’s not an ideal arrangement. He has many other duties, and besides, the fifth floor guests frequently prefer the female touch.’
Following the clerk into the lift it was obvious that no small talk was going to come from her, so Laura calmly kept up her commentary. ‘My associate, Miss Sarah, should be on the premises by 10.00 each morning, unless she has had a complete night session, in which case she is not expected until 2.00 p.m. As I’ve said, Master Philips comes and goes, depending on our requirements and his bar and reception work. Miss Sarah has her first session of the day in a few moments, if we are lucky we should just catch the show.’
Visibly shrinking back, Jess noticed how Mrs Peters walked a little taller now they’d reached her domain. Her face was more set, her back straighter, and somehow she appeared even more intimidating than before. Pushing her hands into the deep pockets of her clinging knee-length black skirt, Jess hid the growing sheen of perspiration on her palms, while trying to ignore the fearful beat of her pulse.
Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.
Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.
Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.
The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of her head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made Jess reconsider. Her eyes kept drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.
‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’
Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’
The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.
The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination began to run riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.
As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise longue and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.
If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’
A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything…
eBooks
US Kindle- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077XW59P2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
Canada Kindle- https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B077XW59P2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1512491682&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+jaybee
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/765157
B&N – ebook – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fifth-floor-kay-jaybee/1127595291?ean=2940154644478
Paperbacks
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xxxx
February 13, 2019
The New Room: OUT NOW!
What better gift could I give you on St Valentine’s Day, than to announce that the re-edited short, novella length, finale to the Perfect Submissive trilogy, The New Room, is OUT NOW!
Blurb
A Perfect Submissive Series short story. (Following on from The Perfect Submissive Trilogy)
Resident submissive of the Fables Hotel’s adult entertainment floor, Miss Jess Sanders, has been instructed to test out the new facility that her manageress, Mrs Peters, has designed for the sexual pleasure of her clients.
With a dungeon, Victorian study, medical bay, school room, and the daunting White Room already available for their guests, Jess can’t begin to imagine what lies behind the innocent looking door to the fifth floor’s new room.
Under the supervision of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, as Jess steps into the new room, she quickly discovers she is about to experience far more than she bargained for… at freezing temperatures.
With the feeling that she’s acting in a play that everyone knows the script to but her, the Fables’ perfect submissive is challenged to the limit in Mrs Peters’ new room, and beyond…
Buy from
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
“Fans of The Perfect Submissive series rejoice. This is the novella we’ve been longing for. I won’t spoil it but this story had me bouncing with glee. All of your favourite characters make an appearance and as you would expect, the scenes are intense and exciting. A big thumbs up and sexy striptease for this wonderful short story.” Goodreads
***
Happy reading.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Kay xx
February 11, 2019
The New Room: OUT SOON
With only a couple of days left until The New Room is relaunched, I thought I’d whet your appetite by sharing its opening lines…
Blurb- The New Room
Resident submissive of the Fables Hotels adult entertainment floor, Miss Jess Sanders, has been instructed to test out the new facility that her manageress, Mrs Peters, has designed for the sexual pleasure of her clients.
With a dungeon, Victorian study, medical bay, school room, and the daunting White Room already available for their guests, Jess can’t begin to imagine what lies behind the innocent looking door to the fifth floor’s new room.
Under the supervision of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, as Jess steps into the new room, she quickly discovers she is about to experience far more than she bargained for…at freezing temperatures.
With the feeling that she’s acting in a play that everyone knows the script to but her, the Fables perfect submissive is challenged to the limit in Mrs Peters new room, and beyond…
***
FIRST 500 words
Naked in front of her bathroom mirror, Miss Jess Sanders savoured the freshness of the cool air against her flesh after an hour of being squeezed inside a PVC nurses uniform.
Going through the ritual of checking her skin for bruising after a session at the hands of one of her most enthusiastic spanking clients, Jess looked over her shoulder to check the redness levels of the palm prints across her butt.
Despite the quiet quivering within her that craved a climax, as Miss Sanders stepped into the shower, hot water washing away the fingerprints of the pseudo doctor who got his kicks by spanking out his naughty nurse fantasies, she did not raise her fingers to her nipples to satisfy her desires. Even though the water was dangerously tantalising against her forever aroused body, she neither cupped her pussy, nor patted her clit with her soapy hands.
For the resident submissive of the Fables Hotel’s fifth floor was not allowed to masturbate without permission.
The often experienced consequences of not doing what she was told had taught Jess how to blank out the voices in her head which urged her to slide a digit into the juices of her pussy channel. Jess had worked hard to earn her place on Mrs Laura Peters’ adult entertainment staff. She didn’t want to jeopardize her reputation as a top class submissive by breaking the rules – even when no one was watching.
Besides, Jess had been ordered to report to her boss’ study in exactly one hour’s time. Jess had no doubt that if she worked herself off without Mrs Peters’ say so, then she’d know. The manageress of the Fables Hotel always knew.
Her instructions had been to go through the door, walk three paces forward, and then stand and wait inside the fifth floor’s latest facility.
Frost crusted over Jess’ shoulders, and the dampness of anticipation that gathered at her crotch prickled as it chilled against her surrounding’s winter-like caress. Her eyes stung as she blinked into the stark brightness of the space, but as Jess’ hands had been secured behind her back, she couldn’t wipe them.
As the submissive looked about her, she saw that not only could the discerning paying guest at the hotel enjoy the delights of a pseudo-school room, a Victorian study, a dungeon, a medical bay, and the intimidating White Room; they could now experience icy arousal in a fairy-tale style snow grotto.
The ceiling and walls had been studded with crystals and draped with shimmering that took away the room’s rectangular proportions, making the space feel cavernous. Tiny silver fairylights sparkled like glitter, while genuine ice granules clung to every surface, including the fake snow that made a distinct crunch beneath Jess’ strappy silver heels.
Having been stripped of all her clothes by a silent Mrs Peters, prior to being thrust across the new room’s threshold, Jess had been surprised when she’d been allowed her to keep her shoes on. Now she understood why…
Buy Links
https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-new-room/id1450535232?mt=11
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-new-room/id1450535232?mt=11
https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/the-new-room-1
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/919648
***
The New Room is the final adventure for Miss Jess Sanders. It follows on from The Fifth Floor, The Retreat and Knowing Her Place.
Happy reading!
Kay xx
Kay Jaybee's Blog
- Kay Jaybee's profile
- 61 followers
