Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 27
September 26, 2018
Pre-order news: A Kink a Day Book Two
Hot on the heels of ‘A Kink a Day- Book One‘ comes ‘A Kink a Day – Book Two‘
Available for pre-order NOW- it will be available as an eBook from 4th October!
Eight hot erotic fantasies – one for each night of the week – and a spare…
Blurb:
From the kinky activities of an obligingly dirty girl, to an unorthodox game of snooker; a battle with both extreme heat and cold, and some delicious cafe-time action, A Kink a Day Book Two provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
(A Kink a Day Book Two contains some previously published stories)
Coming 4th October 2018 – pre-order now:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
***
Praise for Book One– “A series of short tales all of them on different themes. Kay is the eclectic chef of your menu of kinks. For your starter a redhead bringing a shy guy out of his shell, a Nubian goddess reincarnated for your main and a side order of service station quickie. A dessert of Victorian maids will leave you drooling and eager to consume her words.”
If you like hot, kinky and sexy short stories, then this is the collection for you.
Happy pre-ordering,
Kay xx
September 12, 2018
OUT TODAY! A Kink A Day Book One
I love book release days!
Today I’m delighted to announce that A Kink a Day- Book One is out now!!
Blurb:
From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
Buy from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
***
Happy reading,
Kay xx
September 6, 2018
A Kink a Day Book One: Out next week!
I firmly believe that everybody needs a bedtime story.
So within the e-pages of A Kink a Day Book One (to be published on 13th September) I have provided you with one bite sized piece of erotic fantasy for each night of the week…with an extra little something to enjoy during that Saturday morning lie in.
Some of the stories have been released before in my (no longer available) Quick Kink collections. Others are brand new.
A Kink a Day 1 is the first in a series of 3 anthologies designed to provide light relief after a hard day at the office- with an extra nibble of sexy story-age at the weekend – and it is OUT NEXT WEEK.
Here’s an extract from the very first story to whet your appetite…
A Leading Conversation
‘What would you do next?’ Faye’s voice wavered as she struggled to maintain the air of cool indifference she’d been determined to maintain, ‘after you’d stripped me?’
‘I’d bend you over and spank you – hard.’
‘What with?’
‘My belt.’
‘Your leather one? About an inch think?’ Faye could picture the belt Sean always wore clearly; faded, worn and brown, with a twisted knot pattern inlaid through its length. She shivered at the mere thought of it.
‘That’s the one.’
‘What am I bent over?’
Sean was silent for a while and Faye could faintly hear movement around him. It hadn’t occurred to her that this call was being made in public. She broke through his concentration, her tone husky and urgent, ‘Where are you anyway?’
‘In a deserted waiting room on Banbury Station – and you, for the purposes of a much deserved spanking, are bent over the foot of your bed. Plus, I’ve just decided I will tie your wrists together in front of you.’
Despite the two mugs of coffee she’d recently downed, Faye’s mouth felt dry. She couldn’t believe how assertive Sean sounded, particularly as anyone could walk in on him at any moment. She wasn’t even sure how this conversation had started. He’d been in an odd mood he’d said, sort of horny with nowhere to go and no one to shag, and for a reason Faye didn’t understand, she had asked him what he’d like to do if he could. Sean hadn’t even hesitated before blurting out that he’d like to see her naked.
From her oldest friend’s rather startling confession only five minutes ago, they’d somehow got to Faye being naked, semi-bound with her arse in the air, awaiting the first stroke of his belt.
Her mind raced; was Sean just messing around to kill time? Would he end this with a laugh, and leave her feeling silly and privately humiliated for taking him literally? Or could he actually be serious? Did he really want to do this to her?
‘Faye, are you still there?’ Sean’s voice interrupted her violently flickering thoughts, simultaneously reassuring her that he was serious, yet making her wonder if he was regretting sharing his fantasy.
‘I’m here.’ She licked her lips, abandoning any lingering ideas about remaining aloof. ‘What happens next?’
‘I hit you. The leather makes a fantastic cracking sound as it connects with your skin, and the belt leaves a pretty pink patch on your flesh. I love it, so I do it again.’
For the first time, Faye noticed that Sean’s breathing had become shallow and felt further reassured. She began to chew her bottom lip, ‘Am I crying out?’
‘Yes, but I don’t want you to, so I’ve paused in my work to fetch a gag.’
‘A scarf?’
‘I have a ball gag.’
Faye’s heartbeat quickened at the confession, and she couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice, ‘You do?’
She was learning an awful lot this morning about a man she thought she’d known so well. This was a new Sean, an attractive stranger who had very grown-up sex toys. She would never have associated him with anything like that before now. ‘May I still ask questions – now that I am gagged, so to speak?’
Sean went quiet again and Faye could faintly hear the echoing squeak of a train’s arrival being announced over a tannoy. As the noise died away, he said, ‘No. I think you should just listen to me for a while.’
Faye almost said ‘OK’ but stopped herself. After all, Sean had already metaphorically silenced her. Wiping her palms on her jeans, she looked around her while she waited for him to speak again. She tried to take in the view before her; the park, the trees, the ducks on the pond, but all she was conscious of was a desperate need to hear Sean’s voice again…
***
Blurb:
From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
Coming 13th September 2018 – pre-order now:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
***
Happy reading,
Kay xx
Happy reading (and downloading)
Kay xx
August 29, 2018
Take Control: Domination, submission, experimentation
With the recent re-release of my BDSM thriller novel, The Voyeur, I was reminded that I have another book which strides, unashamed, into the world of male domination and consensual female submission – Take Control.
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.
I’m going to tease you with a little taster from The Experiment…
They would follow his instructions to the letter. That was what she had claimed. Still, he was suspicious. It was probably all a con, a devious way of playing on his growing obsession. But it might not be – it might be genuine – he might get to see what he longed to see…
A petite, traditionally dressed, stunningly beautiful Malaysian girl led him into a dimly lit room. The scientist dropped his briefcase next to a comfortable wing-backed armchair, behind which was a small but well-stocked bar. Suspended from the ceiling, a state of the art camcorder pointed forwards, poised and ready to record all that was to follow. Tastefully tame classical music was being piped into the room via a number of wall speakers; speakers which he hoped would reveal some far more interesting sounds in the very near future.
About a metre in front of the chair, a large picture window had been fitted neatly between that room and the next, creating both a theatre and private audience auditorium. A thick red curtain was drawn across the other side of the glass, so that as yet the voyeur could witness nothing from the space beyond.
The hostess, hovering by the bar, gestured to the various bottles of spirits with a questioning glance. He selected a whiskey and, shrugging off his jacket, waited as a triple measure of amber liquid was sloshed into a cut-glass tumbler. With the drink, the girl passed him a white envelope, on which was written The Story Thus Far.
He sat down, fumbling open the letter with hasty fingers, and his eyes devoured the words: Shortly you will see Gail and Jade. Both have been fully appraised as to your requirements. They have been placed within the neighbouring room, secured as per your instructions.
Before your arrival, again as you requested, the girls were subjected to considerable concentrated arousal to the breasts alone, and had nipple clamps applied. Both females are now desperate for further attention. We hope you enjoy the performance. Sit back, relax, and enjoy. The Malaysian girl bowed and left.
Making himself as comfortable as possible, he sat in the chair, satisfied that – so far, at least – his wishes had been carried out.
This whole thing was an experiment: an exercise to discover how much attention needed to be applied to a woman’s breasts alone before climax overtook the subject. Any resulting arousal of his own, he had convinced himself, was coincidental, and of secondary importance to the enquiry…
****
If you’d like to buy this e-book, it is available from Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers. (It is also available for Kobo, Nook and on iTunes)
Happy reading!!!
Kay xx
August 23, 2018
OUT NOW!! The Voyeur is back
Launch day has arived!
The Voyeur, my erotic menage dark romance, has been re-released today!
With a reedit, a new look, and a new publisher (Sinful Press), Mark Parker is back. Forget Mr Gray- Mr Parker means business – literally…
Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.
Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.
But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.
In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…
Pre-order from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Praise for The Voyeur (First edition)
“…The Voyeur is the pitch black to E.L. James’ shades. A richly dark erotic thriller which keeps you gripped from it’s sexually charged start and through it’s twist and turns along the way. Kay Jaybee keeps you enthralled as the girls sexual challenges get packed with more eroticism the harder they get and make you start to question whether you want the girls to succeed or not – without knowing the full details and implications.
The Voyeur has you flirting between tension and pleasure until the final climax.” Amazon UK
‘…This is, simply put, Kay Jaybee’s best work to date. It’s imaginative, kinky, sexy and keeps you guessing throughout. So if you’re looking for a well-written, BDSM packed novel with lots of straight and lesbian sex, then you should definitely check out The Voyeur.’ Blog Critics
‘…A brilliantly creative plot, a wonderful imagination of ideas, relatable characters you feel you want to love and some you want to hate. After the last page I was happily satisfied, a brilliant ending…and no I’m not going to give it away, but you wont be disappointed…’ Midnight Boudoir
‘…The BDSM scenes in this story are blazing hot, one right after another. One could pose that this is merely one long gratuitous sex scene from start to end. This would be a wrong conclusion. Ms. Jaybee starts out with a bang and then delivers a conspiracy which explains the entire story… Ms. Kaybee demonstrates her ability to turn up the heat while weaving a tale of intrigue..’ BookAddict ~ La Crimson Femme
***
Happy reading everyone (and watching), everyone,
Kay xx
August 20, 2018
FREE FOR 5 DAYS: Making Him Wait
To celebrate the launch of the second edition of
The Voyeur
this coming Friday, Sinful Press are giving you the chance to read the eBook version of my novel,
Making Him Wait,
for FREE, for the next 5 DAYS.
Blurb
Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas. But, when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge.
Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. However, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out.
At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted.
Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time? The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!
As the blurb suggests, Maddie Templeton, self control freak, dominatrix, and professional sexual confidence booster, has been offered the chance of a lifetime. The opportunity to exhibit her work in a London gallery. There is only one problem; the only space the gallery can offer her means the art for exhibiting has to be gathered together in double-quick time- and that means calling in a lot of favours, and keeping the fascinating Theo Hunter at arm’s length so Maddie can concentrate on her artwork.
Against her better judgement, and with time against her, Maddie finds herself asking for modelling help from her manipulative ex-girlfriend, Tania.
It isn’t long however, before Tania’s high handed manner gets too much, and Maddie decides to teach her a lesson- via her artist’s trolley…and if she can use the situation to arouse make Theo’s wait for her more interesting, then all the better…
…Taking a deep breath and with a bend of her knees, Tania jumped so that she was sitting on top of the trolley. Edging herself along in reverse, she positioned the small of her back in the very centre of cold metal tray. Slowly, so she didn’t wedge her shoulders against the hand rails that ran along the long sides of the trolley, Tania lay so her legs hung over one end and her head and neck hung over the other, her loose hair sweeping the floor.
Forcing herself to relax as much as possible, Tania threaded her arms carefully through the side rails, letting them swing freely; trying not to think about how vulnerable she had allowed herself to become.
Secretly impressed at how easily Tania had got into position, and resisting the temptation to take a photograph for Theo there and then, Maddie gathered up some silk cord. Her face giving away nothing of her rising excitement, Maddie knelt by Tania’s left side, picked up her wrist, bent her arm at the elbow and wrapped the cord in a figure of eight around her limb and around the nearest trolley leg.
Rather than get up and move, Maddie took hold of the trolley and wheeled it in a sharp circle, causing Tania to forget all about her promise to be quiet. She yelped in surprise, her stomach churning over and her hair dusting the floor like a brush.
Ignoring her ex’s shocked protests, but noting mentally that she had now broken the no noise rule, Maddie tied Tania’s right arm in place before twisting the trolley twice more and securing her ankles to the remaining metal legs in a similar fashion.
The moment she was satisfied that Tania was unable to undo her fastenings simply by tugging at them, Maddie picked up her mobile.
Theo had evidently become impatient again.
Inspired by a photograph I once saw of a woman shackled to a hostess trolley, I had a great deal of fun giving Tania a taste of her own medicine.
If you want to discover why Tania deserved such treatment in the first place and what happens next, then you can read Making Him Wait for FREE for the next 5 DAYS!! smarturl.it/MHWAmazon
Happy reading,
Kay xx
August 13, 2018
OUT SOON: Sneaky Peek of The Voyeur
With only 10 days to go until The Voyeur is re-released, I though you might like- in true voyeuristic style- to have a sneaky peek between its pages, and learn a little about what inspired my darkest novel to date.
Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.
Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.
But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.
In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…
The idea for The Voyeur saw its first glimmer of light back in 2007, when I wrote a two part story called Fantasy 13, for the excellent erotica web site Oysters and Chocolate. These early, full-on BDSM, parallel adventures, both set in the ‘Discreet’ S&M club, were subtitled Clara’s Story and Anna’s Story– and now form the backbone of Chapters One and Two of The Voyeur.
As anyone who has read my work will know, I love writing BDSM stories, and for some time prior to penning the mini- series Fantasy 13, I’d toyed with the idea of setting a piece within a specialist club, which I’d decided to paradoxically entitle, Discreet! The only thing holding me back was that I was at a loss for an original story angle.
About the same time, I was sat in a cafe (as ever!), covertly people watching. A woman about my age was frantically scribbling down a list. I assumed it was a shopping list; but then I began to wonder- what if it wasn’t? What if it was something more interesting? Maybe it was a list of all the things she wished her husband, lover or girlfriend would do to, or with, her?
There was no sopping my imagination once I’d had that thought. Within the hour I had created Mark, a business man who kept a secret notebook in which to compile all his darkest desires. He doesn’t necessarily want to take part in any of these fantasies- he just wants to see them take place in front of him. The ultimate voyeur!
So, you could say that The Voyeur was originally a mixture of ideas gleaned from my long standing desire to write a story set in a sex club, and observing a woman jot down a shopping list in a cafe!!
Of course, once Mark existed in my imagination, I needed to create some willing assistants to make his dreams come true- and so PA Anya (originally Anna), and Housekeeper Clara, were born! Two professional, intelligent women, who think they know exactly what they are letting themselves in for- but do they?
The original Fantasy 13 for Oysters and Chocolate told the stories of Clara and Anna as they experienced their employer’s two-pronged final erotic dream. In The Voyeur however, this original ultimate fantasy, becomes the twelfth item on Mark’s list. He has something far more challenging for his employees to endure for fantasy 13- and a dark motive behind his reason for it…
Here’s an extract to tickle those visual taste buds… To their horror, Anya and Clara have just been told that they have to repeat many of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them. In this section of Chapter 3 we find the girls about to retake Fantasy 2, while Mark looks on. It’s torture by erotica…
***
…Reclining in his chair, Mark raised his arm as if he was about to start a race, and gave the first order. ‘Strip.’
With practice born of repetition, the women divested themselves of their clothing, heaping their discarded garments onto the bed behind them.
Mark took a moment to study his staff, and then pointed to the foot of the four-poster bed. Understanding the unspoken request, the women stood, face to face, one metre apart.
Anya could feel her heart rate quicken further as she regarded Clara. It didn’t matter that she had enjoyed the feel of Clara’s skin a hundred times before; all that mattered was feeling it again, and soon.
‘As you will remember, you must remain exactly where you are, without touching each other, without making a sound. All you have to do is listen and refrain from moving.’ Picking up a well-thumbed paperback of erotic short stories from the bedside table, Mark took his time leafing through the pages to find the section he’d decided to narrate to his staff.
‘Even though Gail had been expecting it, the ring of the doorbell still made her jump. Wiping her palms apprehensively down the back of her jeans, she went to greet her guest.
‘The smile that met Gail as she opened the door turned into a beam of approval as Becky’s eyes scanned Gail’s snug-fitting red top and black jeans as if she had X-ray vision. “Wow, that’s one sexy vest, honey.”
‘Gail’s face flushed, but she managed to swallow back her natural inclination to dismiss a compliment, and let her own eyes roam over her visitor. Becky, in blue jeans and a plain black figure-hugging T-shirt, which displayed her cleavage to perfection, looked fantastic. Her recently washed and fluffed hair smelt mildly of lemon, and her face looked fresh and keen.
‘“You look pretty hot yourself, come in.” Becky followed her host into the small hallway that led to the lounge.
‘Gail was thankful for the background music she’d put on, for now they were here, face to face, just out of arm’s reach, an awkward tension hung in the air. They simply didn’t know what to say to each other. Surprising herself by being the one to break the silence, Gail spoke quietly. “This is ridiculous. Come here.” Catching hold of Becky’s hand, feeling how cold it was despite the heat of the room, she pulled her down onto the short blue sofa.
‘They still didn’t talk, but now it didn’t matter. As Gail sat, her legs hooked up under her, her body whorled toward Becky, everything within her immediate sight became blurred around the edges; this girl’s face, her clear green eyes, her mouth, the hands that began to reach out to Gail …
‘As Becky’s fingers reached her cheeks, Gail was snapped back to reality by their tender touch on her pale flesh. Placing her own hands on Becky’s shoulders, Gail ran them up each side of her neck, until she was cupping her face. The desire to kiss this person, this woman, was overwhelming. As her face came to Gail’s, Becky muttered, “You still want to?”
‘“Oh yes.” Gail hardly even breathed the words as their lips came together and their eyes closed.
‘The goose-pimples that had been spotting Gail’s arms tingled, and every nerve-ending flickered as a supple tongue darted against her mouth, and soft hair stroked her face. Her lips would have been happy to keep doing this, to kiss this person endlessly, but Gail’s body had other ideas, and after a few moments she could no longer sustain the leisurely pace.
‘Her kisses became firmer, and Becky, picking up on Gail’s urgency, reciprocated with equal fervour. Their hands, everywhere at once, began a thorough exploration of each other. Kneading tits, sliding hands beneath shirts to feel bare skin against their virgin fingers, nipping at each other’s neck, trailing hands lower, caressing crotches through thick denim, they touched whatever they could reach without giving up the kissing that became more and more passionate.
‘Finally breaking away, panting, their eyes serious but twinkling with mutual lust, they stood up …’
As he read, Mark, who knew the passage he was reciting so well that he really didn’t need to have the book in front of him, watched the girls’ bodies react; their teats hardening, their breasts swelling. Gratified that they hadn’t yet wavered from their position, he launched back into the manuscript, continuing to observe Anya and Clara carefully as he read …
‘Reaching out again, Becky dragged Gail’s top from her shoulders. Copying the action, Gail drew a long deep breath as she saw Becky’s black lace chemise, an exhalation that was echoed by Becky, whose emerald gaze had locked on to Gail’s bright red satin bra. Only a second’s visual appreciation passed, however, as, with unspoken understanding, they freed their breasts.
‘Gail’s hands leapt to her companion’s perfectly round yielding chest. As she made contact with Becky’s globes, the neat beige tips pushed back against her palms. Becky let out a husky groan of yearning, bringing her own hands to the other woman, her little fingers rubbing around Gail’s dark areolas in delectably torturous circles.
‘Desperate to find out if the taste of a tit was as she imaged it to be, Gail knocked Becky’s hands away, her lips rushing forward on a collision course for her guest’s right nipple. The texture of female flesh between her teeth sent a thrill gushing through her, turning Gail’s pussy from damp to wet as she gently kissed all around the teat. Savouring Becky’s sigh of contentment, Gail turned her caresses to pinches and bites, making her lover gasp as her hands continued their investigation of the mouth-watering body that was responding to her so readily. A voice at the back of Gail’s mind was asking her how the hell she knew what to do, but she ignored it, more concerned with continuing her research.
‘Becky’s arms hung limp at her sides as Gail pushed her back onto the sofa, lifted her hips, and began to pull down her jeans.
‘Gail’s throat became Sahara dry as she revealed Becky’s ruby and silver-studded naval. Pausing to kiss it, she continued removing the denims until she was faced with a beautiful, black lace-covered pussy. Nothing mattered now except seeing what lay under that small triangle of fabric. With a quick glance at Becky to make sure she still wanted to proceed, Gail pressed a firm palm over the knickers, feeling her stomach muscles quiver as she ran a single finger beneath the waistband. Becky’s breathing became laboured as Gail peeled the lace away from her crotch.
‘The smoothly shaven pussy that met Gail’s eyes seemed to ask for attention all on its own. Gail’s fingers obliged, examining its secret folds. Her touch revelled in the unfamiliar sensations, and her nose instantly loved the sweet aroma as her fingers uncovered the erect clit. Leaning closer, Gail blew air across its tip, making Becky whimper as moist lips met her pussy. Lapping up the sweet juices with delight, Gail’s hands snaked up Becky, massaging each breast.
‘Murmuring her pleasure with short mewls, Becky’s body began to jerk. Her involuntary movements increased as Gail speeded her caresses, gliding a finger inside the wet snatch, as Becky, with a cry of joy, came around the thin digit while Gail continued to stimulate her clit …’
Anya’s toes clenched as she fought the urge to shuffle her feet. Her entire body could feel the echo of Becky and Gail’s imagined stimulation. Before the reading had started, Anya had adopted the position experience had taught her she could maintain for a long time, with her hands together in front of her. Now, as Mark’s words slunk over her, the PA felt her sticky palms suction together. Resolute that she would not fail, she was equally desperate to touch Clara. Anya began to wish that she had focused her eyes on her lover’s feet rather than on her slim, porcelain waist and perfectly oval naval.
Clara, her neck bent, was studying the patch of carpet just in front of Anya’s painted toenails. Her hands, linked behind her back, dug into her palms as she did her best to block out Mark’s low, sensual voice; trying to think about anything but the intensely erotic scenario that was being read to them.
Distracting herself, Anya began to mull over where Mark had hidden the stopwatch. She was sure there’d be one hidden somewhere, counting off the seconds until either she or Clara caved in and moved. It was probably in his pocket, but Anya didn’t dare lift her gaze enough to see if the tell-tale circular bulge to his jeans pocket was there.
As Mark lingered over a paragraph detailing the fictional women licking each other out, Anya’s crotch twitched faster. She could almost feel the described contact for herself, and guessed from the visible tensing of her stomach muscles that Clara was fighting a similar battle.
Trying hard not to dwell on how wet her partner might be, and wishing she’d been bound so that her forced inactivity was easier, Anya attempted to picture the pile of paperwork on her desk, and the massive number of emails that would be cluttering up her inbox while she was away from the office. Yet her attempts at such practical thoughts were washed away by Mark’s kinky recital …
‘Gail couldn’t believe how incredible it felt, as a girl stroked her inner thighs and snatch with languid strokes of her agile tongue. Unable to keep her hands still, she reached down to the top of Becky’s head, but, unable to reach her, moved her fingers to her own breasts, massaging them in time to the gloriously frustrating movements between her legs …’
It was Clara’s foot that shifted first. Just a tiny fraction. If Mark hadn’t been expecting it then it might have gone unnoticed, but he remembered how Fantasy 2 had ended last time, with the minor wriggle of his housekeeper’s toes, and it was with an expressionless dip of his head that he witnessed history repeating itself.
Clara inwardly cursed her unbidden movement. She was sure she had managed to remain motionless for longer than she had last time, but the proximity of Anya, and the temptation of the words Mark had been weaving around them, had been too much.
Now that Clara had moved, Anya felt the tension ease from her rigid frame, and risked flexing her fingers a little. Mark’s cut-glass voice ripped through the sound of the soloist singing her haunting tones from the stereo. ‘I expected you to last longer, Miss Hooper. You have six months more experience than you had the last time you took this test.’
Instantly both girls became stock still in the face of their boss’s disappointment.
‘I have not finished reading. You will take one step closer to each other. You will not touch each other.’
Anya could almost taste Clara’s skin, it was so close, and the heady aroma of her partner’s snatch was wafting temptingly toward her. Mark resumed the torturously arousing monologue as she battled harder than ever not to grab the woman in front of her…
***
If you want to find out how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark, and what other challenges they have to endure, you can pre-order The Voyeur from –
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
RE-RELEASE DAY is 24th AUGUST
***
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xx
August 6, 2018
Pre-order News: A Kink a Day
About eight months ago I was sorting through a massive pile of short stories- all kinky, all homeless and all written by me.
It didn’t take me long to decide what to do with them. Each tale has now been reedited and forms part of a brand new series of anthologies that I’ve called ‘A Kink a Day.‘
Blurb:
Eight hot erotic fantasies – one for each night of the week – and a spare…
From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
(A Kink a Day Book One contains stories previously published in Quick Kink One. )
The world around us is becoming more stressful by the day. What better way is there to ease away that stress than by reading a hot and sexy bedtime story? Unless it’s reading it to a friend…
Coming 13th September 2018 – pre-order now:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords
Books 2 and 3 will be released in October and November respectively!
So, if you like a quick sexy read once a day, then the ‘A Kink a Day’ collections are for you! From erotic romance, to fetish, to BDSM; there are stories for everyone.
Why not pre-order now to ensure your tablet, phone, or PC is loaded up with stories as soon as ‘A Kink a Day – Book One’ is published?
Happy reading,
Kay x
July 30, 2018
The Voyeur is on his way back
I’m delighted to announce that, after a re-edit and a recovering, the second edition of my popular BDSM threesome novel, The Voyeur, is available for preorder!
RE-RELEASING ON 24th AUGUST 2018 by Sinful Press
Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.
Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.
But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.
In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…
Pre-order from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Praise for the first edition of The Voyeur-
“…The Voyeur is the pitch black to E.L. James’ shades. A richly dark erotic thriller which keeps you gripped from it’s sexually charged start and through it’s twist and turns along the way. Kay Jaybee keeps you enthralled as the girls sexual challenges get packed with more eroticism the harder they get and make you start to question whether you want the girls to succeed or not – without knowing the full details and implications.
The Voyeur has you flirting between tension and pleasure until the final climax.” Amazon UK
‘…This is, simply put, Kay Jaybee’s best work to date. It’s imaginative, kinky, sexy and keeps you guessing throughout. So if you’re looking for a well-written, BDSM packed novel with lots of straight and lesbian sex, then you should definitely check out The Voyeur.’ Blog Critics
‘…A brilliantly creative plot, a wonderful imagination of ideas, relatable characters you feel you want to love and some you want to hate. After the last page I was happily satisfied, a brilliant ending…and no I’m not going to give it away, but you wont be disappointed…’ Midnight Boudoir
‘…The BDSM scenes in this story are blazing hot, one right after another. One could pose that this is merely one long gratuitous sex scene from start to end. This would be a wrong conclusion. Ms. Jaybee starts out with a bang and then delivers a conspiracy which explains the entire story… Ms. Kaybee demonstrates her ability to turn up the heat while weaving a tale of intrigue..’ BookAddict ~ La Crimson Femme
‘I like a book that starts out strong in the beginning. This book starts out strong and does not hold anything back. It keeps going strong until the end. The characters and plot is well developed…This book may seem like all sex, bondage and everything else but it is more. Kay has created an intriguing book that defiles the ordinary sex book on the market. She has taken characters that are strong and turned them into a submission with loyalty for Mark … Be prepared to an interesting night with your partner while reading. Thanks for a great read Kay.’ Bunny Review
‘…What Kay Jaybee does with tremendous artistry is set the scene in her highly-charged novel in two swift paragraphs that made me feel as she had taken me to the edge of the diving board where I plunged nakedly into the whirlpool of Mark Parker’s 12th fantasy.
The writing is confident, assured and Ms Jaybee doesn’t spend words like some profligate gambler but uses them with parsimonious economy – as if, to borrow a phrase, she is writing a telegram and every word has to be paid for. It is not easy within the genre to be original, there is, it has to be said, a certain modus operandi in all sub-dom erotica, but I did appreciate the way Mark spanked Anya and Clara in turn, “one being hit while the other enjoyed a moment’s respite before being struck again.” It gave me a warm feeling all the way down the back of my legs.’ Chloe Thurlow
‘…This is one hot number. The sex scenes are deliciously creative and just plain blazing. The story flows along fairly smoothly and the characters are well-developed. I didn’t particularly care for Mark, I think because he seemed so emotionless most of the time and I’m not a big fan of f/f action though I don’t hate it. The ultimate secret Mark is harboring is a bit out there, but suspension of belief helps to make it work. All-in-all this is a hot read that provides plenty of fantasy fodder...’ A Voracious Reader
“…This book is not for the fain…t hearted and if your kink ‘kinky’ then this is for you otherwise be warned … this is not Fifty or even Gideon Cross – Mark Parker is in a world of his own…
An excellent story that had me up most the night to get it finished – I HAD to know what was going to happen.” Goodreads
***
Happy reading everyone!
Kay xx
July 29, 2018
Archaeological Kink: Digging Deep
Based (loosely!!!) on my own adventures as an archaeologist in searing hot Tunisia many years ago, this novella was immense fun to write.
Here’s the first chapter of Digging Deep , to whet your appetite…
Chapter One
Irritably adjusting her wide-brimmed hat for the third time in as many minutes, Dr Beth Andrews felt the sting of the African sun sear the back of her neck through the tresses of her long, ginger hair.
She never dreamt she’d miss the stubborn, muddy clay of the British earth she was used to hunting through in her search for archaeological data, but the uncooperatively fine white sand of North Africa was enough to try the patience of a saint.
Throwing down her brush in overheated exasperation, Beth thought fondly of her excavation trowel. Her tool of choice had quickly been rendered obsolete in the face of so much sand, and a job that was, by necessity, slow was reduced to a snail’s pace as the metre by metre square of the Ancient Roman bath house site in which she worked backfilled in on itself with every sweep of her light bristled brush.
It had been a dream come true for Beth when she’d been selected to lead the University of Wales’s excavation team, digging the sprawling Ancient Roman city of Lepti Major on the outskirts of Sousse in Tunisia. She had longed to experience new exotic sites and see new exotic sights. The chance to uncover stunning mosaics and city roads that hadn’t been trodden for 1000 years was an opportunity she’d had no intention of letting pass by.
The fact she’d be sharing responsibility for the site with her archaeological hero, the unimaginatively named Dr Harrison Harris from Colorado, an American academic who’d been the subject of many of Beth’s private fantasies since she’d fallen in love with his work, not to mention the photograph of him on the back cover of his books, in her first year as a student, was neither here nor there.
Flicking her eyes covertly over towards Harrison, Beth averted her attention away from the slight increase in her pulse rate by recalling what the site’s previous supervisor had said about working in Africa’s extreme temperatures. “Scalding by day, and freezing by night”. Linda had warned Beth that her freckle-spotted, sensitive flesh would loathe being either fried or frozen just as much as her archaeological brain would relish the challenge of constructing a city from its remains.
Beth hated the fact that Linda had been right. She’d never been rendered so sweaty, not to mention so blotched with extra heat-induced freckles, in her life. There couldn’t have been a centimetre of her body that hadn’t got a fresh cluster of beige dots on it. After only a week under the sun, it was becoming a struggle to hold on to her generally calm approach to life, and Beth was finding that her temper, which rarely flared in the UK, was on a permanently short fuse.
What got to her most was that none of her colleagues seemed to be suffering at all. They were all happily tanning as they worked, and sleeping off their exhaustion with ease at night.
It hadn’t taken Beth more than a few hours of digging in the unshaded bath house on her first day to see that a survival technique was required to prevent the elements disrupting her professional judgement. She tried thinking about work, home, rain, and even walks in the snow as she worked, but only one thing successfully diverted her attention from the exposure of her unusually pale flesh to the elements, and that was to allow her mind to fill with erotic scenarios and fantasies, while her hands got on with the job in hand.
This specialised amusement had the benefit of taking her mind off the sun that managed to scald her back even through three layers of thin cotton, and had the added bonus of warming her at night. Lying on her thin camping mattress, Beth would recall all she’d pondered during the day, engendering an ardour between her thighs that her fingers deftly maximised, leaving her physically warmer and bodily sated, and thus making it easier for her to fall asleep.
At first, Beth had been determined that Harrison would not feature in her erotic musings. Her resolve had not lasted long, however, and although she did her best to make the men in her sexy survival scenarios anonymous, the American’s face crept in with increasing frequency.
Manoeuvring a layer of burning sand from one side of her section to the other, Beth considered her colleague. His reputation as an expert in Roman archaeology was renowned. Beth had never dreamt she’d ever meet him, let alone work with him as an equal. His knowledge and academic intellect had been enough to make her heart flutter for years. Yet what Harrison was like in reality was not at all how she’d assumed he’d be.
She’d envisaged him as being chatty, tall, slim, dark-haired, and weather-tanned. He’d probably wear glasses for reading, and be forever clad in T-shirts and large-pocketed shorts as he leapt around excavations like a gazelle.
In fact, she’d hardly heard Harrison’s distinct Colorado accent. He seemed to prefer his own company to that of the group. When he did talk to Beth, he called her “doll,” which made her feel like a lump of mass-produced, animated plastic.
Harrison was about 5 foot 7, not the 6 foot plus she’d pictured, and his spiked hair was a sun-kissed blond and not brown. His build was stocky and muscular, his bare arms and legs permanently gritted with granules of sand, and although he moved with a speed which would have been the envy of any gazelle, he managed to proceed around the site somehow without making a sound.
The problem is, Beth thought as she traced the outline of what she suspected might be a Roman drain gully, I built up an image of him based on a book cover’s black-and-white out of date headshot, and I was way off.
She’d been right about Harrison wearing knee-length shorts, though. Everyone on the dig wore such shorts, except for the stick thin, heavy-chested blonde on the American team, who might as well have been wearing knickers her shorts were so scanty. Beth sighed as she looked down at her own attire. A protective covering of baggy clothing shrouded her limbs, and her porcelain neck was hidden beneath spirals of her ginger hair, which glowed as if she’d been hit by radiation rather than African sunlight.
Ryan wasn’t helping either. The most charismatic of her students had been so enthusiastic on his first morning that he’d headed to the site before everybody else, without waiting for Beth to detail where to dig. Consequently, he’d powered through the ground in an alarmingly gung-ho manner, neglected the recording of each strata-graphic layer and, with his six-pack and biceps shining against 120 degrees of sunshine, had crashed his shovel into the corner of a mosaic that had been safely protected by the landscape for hundreds of years, breaking off half-a-dozen exquisitely coloured tessera cubes, and rendering one of the depicted Medusa’s snakes partially headless.
Beth had gone ballistic. To his credit, Ryan had been mortified. He’d begged her not to tell anyone. For the sake of the university’s reputation, not to mention her fear that Harrison would take one look at her careless student, assume she was no good at supervision, and send her home, she had agreed it would be their secret. Ever since, however, Ryan had been driving Beth mad with his attempts to make it up to her at every opportunity.
Only that morning he’d lent so close to Beth as he informed her he was going to make up for his blunder that his soft Welsh tones had vibrated against her skin. His manner was so blatantly suggestive that she hadn’t been able to prevent the inappropriate smile that had very briefly crossed her lips.
Picking up her dustpan and brush, Beth stroked away the grains of sand that sat between her and her judgement as to whether the lines being revealed were part of the bath house drainage system or not. Expertly tracing the changing colours in the freshly uncovered ground, Beth, confident that her theory was correct, and that the ancient shadows of the gully she could see could be followed across the ground with ease, readopted her technique to deviate her attention from the cruel climate, while her fingers worked the earth.
What exactly is Ryan offering? she wondered. A sneaky snog behind the equipment cupboard? A cooling down of my chest with his tongue? Or is he more ambitious than that? Does he imagine me naked, face down, spread-eagled over an empty wheelbarrow with his cock between my legs; or see us together in the shower, washing off the worst of the sand that seems to be permanently stuck to my body while he shoves his dick down my throat?
For goodness’ sake, woman! she chided herself. Beth was surprised to find her chest, whose generous size she’d always loved before, but now heartily wished was small enough to go without the extra layer of material her bra provided, was becoming taut. Cross with herself, she shook her hair out from beneath her hat, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts from her head. Having random erotic dreams might be the only thing that keeps you sane in this blast furnace – but you must not consider your students! Get a grip!
Briskly returning to the matter in hand, Beth cut through a layer of denser sand, wishing Ryan wasn’t working the section directly behind her. She daren’t turn to check he was all right like she did her other students. The last time she’d done so, she had caught him ogling her butt with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, which couldn’t have been mistaken for anything other than the type of lustful intentions her own imagination had just so colourfully displayed to her. Ever since then, she had been more than a little self-conscious of the stretch of her cotton combats over her backside.
Crouching on her haunches, letting her eyes roam across the site as a whole, Beth struck Ryan from her mind, and began weighing up the significance of what she was excavating in relation to what else was opening up on the dig before her. As she leant in closer, a glitter of something just below the upper level of the sand caught her eye. Trailing her brush across the yellow surface, she mentally listed all the hidden things that might shine: mosaic tesserae, jewellery, votive offerings to the gods …
With a sharp scream, Beth stumbled backwards out of her square in a mad scramble to escape. Her find was none of the things archaeologists dream of uncovering. In the haste to get away, her left foot caught on the guide string that divided her metre section from the next. Tripping, she fell heavily backwards.
Flushed with an embarrassment that enflamed her already pinkened features, Beth found herself being scooped onto Ryan’s lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
Alerted by the unexpected shriek, the other students in the immediate vicinity began to gather round. Most of them, however, backed away the moment they saw what had caused Beth’s unusual lack of professionalism; except for the leggy American, who looked at Ryan in disgust, pointedly rolled her eyes at Beth, and returned to her work.
Beth didn’t have time to think about the blonde’s unsympathetic reaction. All her attention was on the bronze snake which hadn’t appreciated its home being disturbed by an inquisitive human. She was convinced it was staring straight at her, its tongue flicking, smelling the air around it in an accusatory manner.
Her initial shock subsiding, and abruptly sensible of where she was, and how it must appear to see one of the supervisors in the embrace of a student, Beth scrambled shakily to her feet. She wasn’t sure if she was more mortified by her public reaction to the snake, or by the fact that her body felt more than a little content at being cradled so protectively in Ryan’s arms so recently after her erotic ruminations had headed in his direction. ‘I’m sorry, everyone! That was a bit of a shock. I’m not good with snakes.’
‘Don’t worry about it, boss.’ Ryan ran a consoling hand down Beth’s cotton-covered arm, creating small prickles of uninvited lust that appeared on top of the prickles of fear already there, and sending them both tripping towards her crotch.
Rueing her kinky imagination, Beth took another step away from her student. Moving rather too fast, she collided with the stocky frame of Harrison Harris. He’d crossed the site on his ever-silent feet to see what all the fuss was about without her even noticing, causing Beth to jump out of her skin for a second time. ‘Honestly. Harrison, don’t you ever make a sound when you move?’
‘Hardly ever!’ He treated her to one of his Colorado smiles, making Beth suspect that he was privately laughing at her. ‘You OK, doll?’
Not stopping to waste her breath on asking him for the umpteenth time not to call her “doll”, Beth did her best to ignore the twinkle in Harrison’s eye that confirmed he found the situation hilarious, and settled for being grateful that he hadn’t vocalised his mirth in front of their charges.
‘I’m fine. The snake took me by surprise.’
Beth had no doubt this little episode would be site folklore by dinner time. She didn’t usually care about that sort of thing, and was always one of the first to laugh when she made a fool of herself, but now she found her face darkening with embarrassment in the face of her colleague.
‘Is that all?’ Harrison bent down and retrieved the brush Beth had abandoned in her hurry to move away from the snake. ‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Just shock. I don’t like snakes. I haven’t damaged anything, I hope.’
‘No harm done.’ Harrison shot Ryan a look which plainly said “this time”, making Beth wonder if the timing of the breaking of the mosaic had gone unnoticed after all. ‘Here you go, doll.’ He gestured to the creature. ‘He’s just a sand snake. Won’t do you any harm. I’ll move him somewhere safe.’
‘Thank you.’ Beth’s words came out rather weakly as the unfortunate creature was picked up and repositioned against a dune of previously excavated sand, into which it quickly disappeared. Seeing Harrison rehome the creature with no more fuss than if he’d moved a worm from a flower bed to a vegetable patch made Beth even more cross with herself for being so feeble in front of a man she’d so badly wanted to impress. She found herself babbling in explanation, ‘Insects I have no problem with. Spiders are cool. But snakes … I can’t stand them.’
This time Harrison did laugh openly, wiping one of his calloused palms across his forehead, smearing dirt into his spiky hair and knocking back his faded Stetson in the process. ‘You’re a regular Indiana Jones, doll!’
Keen to keep the general atmosphere light, Beth added, ‘Well. As long as I don’t get chased by any oversized boulders or attacked by a tribe of pygmies with blowpipes then I guess I can live with the comparison!’
Taking a hefty swig from her water bottle, she smiled, relieved that her ability to laugh at herself was finally reasserting itself after days of being diminished by the heat.
Harrison grinned as he strolled to his side of the dig. ‘Gotta love that dry English sense of humour, doll.’
Beth called after him, ‘Thanks for the snake removal, Harry.’
He kept walking as he corrected her. ‘Harrison. It’s Harrison, I told you. I don’t like being called Harry.’
She shouted at his retreating back, ‘And I don’t like being referred to as a doll. It makes me sound like a character in an American B-movie! Message received?’
Still laughing, Harrison didn’t look round, but held up a hand as if in defeat. ‘Gotcha, doll! Message received.’
Stepping back into her square, Beth looked at her watch. It wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning, and the heat was already making it feel as if someone was systematically pouring paint stripper across her shoulders. She could hear her students chatting happily as they worked. All except for Ryan, who was unusually quiet.
Beth sighed as she recalled Harrison’s glare towards Ryan, and realised it wasn’t just her rationale she’d left in the colder climate of home, but her common sense as well. It was time to come clean about how Ryan had messed up the mosaic and, more importantly, why she hadn’t reported the incident straight away.
Her decision made, Beth’s hands returned to working the ground, while her imagination speculated how it might have felt if Harrison had been the one she’d accidentally sat on. Would I have wanted to get up quite so quickly? Her pussy twitched as if in confirmation, as her green eyes studied the Roman drain …
Digging Deep is available as a download or a paperback from all good retailers, including-
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Digging-Deep-Cariad-Singles-Book-ebook/dp/B00L2GR7C0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1404411608&sr=1-1&keywords=Digging+Deep+kay+jaybee
http://www.amazon.com/Digging-Deep-Cariad-Singles-Book-ebook/dp/B00L2GR7C0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1404411692&sr=1-1&keywords=digging+deep+kay+jaybee
Happy reading!!
Kay xx
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