Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 37
May 18, 2017
The Story Behind “Not Taking the Tube”
I am sure one of the most frequently asked questions that passes from the non-writer to the writer is, ‘Where do you get your ideas from?’
My answer is both predictable, and always the same. ‘From all around me.’ I say- ‘from everywhere.’
To give you an example…
I was stood one cool Saturday morning, with hundreds of others, on the platform of Moorgate Tube Station. There was breathing room only, and we were being advised via a barely audible Tannoy announcement, that it was going to take an average of 2 hours to get to Paddington Station by tube (normally a 20 minute run), so we should consider alternative transport.
You could feel the tension in the air, the anger was bouncing off the walls, and the language of stress was flying from many a commuter’s mouth. Mobile phones were being launched into life, as apologises were conveyed from those who were going to be very later for work to their employers etc- apart from those who couldn’t get a phone signal- I began to seriously fear for those individual’s blood pressure.
Watching all this from the comfortably resigned position of someone who has three hours before they have to catch their train home, I leant against the grubby grey wall of the station and considered my options. Perhaps, I thought, I should catch a bus.
As I continued to observe my fellow would be travellers, the seed of a plotline began to germinate in my mind. A small and undeniably attractive guard was doing her best, with infinite patience, to explain to the surging mass of commuters what was going on. Facing a barrage of abuse, she calmly carried on, letting all the anger directed at her slip away like water off a ducks back. But what if she snapped? What if her reserve broke…what would she do then?
There and then the story ‘Not Taking The Tube’ was born, a piece which quickly engendered five sister stories, which in turn became my S&M and BSDM based Fem Dom e-anthology Yes Ma’am.
I have never been so glad to be held up by a train!
Here’s a little extract for you…
…Opening his mouth to complain, he found a slim finger pressed over his lips. “Sir, I did not make the tube points fail.” Her voice was perfectly calm. He could smell the dusty claustrophobic atmosphere on her skin as she slowly moved the single digit across his lips making his pulse match his inflated blood pressure. “Nor did I decide to mess up the lighting system. And I certainly didn’t decide that today would be the perfect day to start renovation on the Circle Line.”
His breath rattled in his throat, and yet the presence of her finger somehow prevented him from speaking. It would have been easy to push her away, but the diminutive figure had taken a step forward, and her chest, neat, firm, and encased in a regulation navy shirt and tank top, felt unexpectedly arousing next to his stomach.
“Now, sir, if you go on stressing like this, then you’ll have a heart attack or something. I suggest you allow me to assist you in lowering your tension levels.”
Rational thought was doing its best to communicate with him, telling him that a short dark skinned, incredibly self contained Underground official was unhooking the clasp of his belt. He wanted to rail and shout against the unfairness of delay. He wanted to push her away; shove her; punish her for being so fucking reasonable. He didn’t though; he merely watched as a dangerous smile grew at the corner of her lips.
For a split second time seemed to freeze, as if they were both considering what was about to happen. Then, the woman exploded.
With angry relish she whipped the leather belt from his trousers, dropped it and pulled open his fly so violently that a button came free and skittered across the floor. Gripping his balls through his trousers, she hissed, “You and all you “clever” types don’t even stop to think before you wade in with all your complaints.”
His jaw fell open as she massaged his balls with painful squeezes. It was as if all the weeks and months of unjust dealings had snapped inside her in one go…
***
You can buy Yes Ma’am
Happy reading,
Kay xx
May 11, 2017
Dabbling Outside My Comfort Zone: Imagine
It is often said that we should all do something that scares us every day. That it is healthy to take ourselves outside of our personal comfort zone.
As a child, just the act of having to answer a question out loud during class was enough to scare me to death. My comfort zone at that time could have been described as being where I was either on my own, or with friends who wouldn’t ask me tricky questions! Things haven’t really changed much, yet these days I seem to be living outside of my comfort zone more and more often.
Writing erotica in itself is pretty wide of my comfort zone – at least it used to be. Over the last eleven years however, I have become at home with the smutty words and phrases I write- it is now the act of marketing my work that takes me out of my zone.
To write about myself, my work, to ‘BIG IT UP’ is so unlike me. Even carrying business cards with the words, ‘Kay Jaybee Erotica’ on them, is rather like hang gliding over enemy lines- even after over a decade.
Extreme bravery is required whenever I travel to London, Manchester or anywhere else, to read my erotica out loud to an audience. And when I teach workshops or writing classes- despite really looking forward to them- I know I will be the victim of sweaty palms and a nervous stomach!!
When I’m out in the world- at places like Eroticon- on a writer’s panel, answering any questions about the art of writing erotica, and what on earth made me do so in the first place, I have to think hard. The fear that I won’t be able to answer your questions is never far away. I’m just a writer good at sex scenes after all- what the hell do I know?
It is the question and answer sessions that make me more nervous than anything! What if I can’t answer the questions? What if I can’t hear the questions in the first place? What if? What if? For me, it is like being ten years old all over again, not understanding a word my English teacher just said to me! Yet, I know full well, that once I have done it. Once the panel is complete- I will have loved every second of it!
At a more local level, as more people become aware of what I do for a living, I find I am asked to step a toe out of my comfort zone here to. A few years ago for example, I found myself roped- with a huge amount of nerves- into being a model for a fantastic new boutique called Snob, at a fashion show in a local hotel. An excellent evening of jazz and singing could so easily have been spoilt by me falling off my gorgeous boots, or falling to turn, move in the right way, etc, etc, etc…..
To say the adrenalin was pumping puts it mildly- but, with hair that was styled into something that I can only describe as ‘French Aristocrat on the way to the guillotine’- held together with an ozone layers worth of hairspray and 37 bobby pins, I wiggled the hips and waggled my fingers in the words most beautiful mittens, and survived the experience! It was- as you’d imagine, good fun. So why do I get into such a state before hand!!?? Stage fright will be the death of me!!
At the Tiverton Literary Festival in 2016 I did an after dinner floor show about ‘The Real Life of an Erotica Writer’- this included taking off many layers of clothes…Was I nervous? That doesn’t even cover it. And yet…yes. It was fantastic fun – you should have seen the raffle…(I am available for future bookings if you fancy a corporate event with a difference!)
It doesn’t matter what I do, or how far out of my comfort zone I step, I’m always going to suffer from stage fright. Once those lights go up however…I LOVE IT!
And it’s just as well I do! These are undeniably hard times for independent writers. With erotica publishers falling like confetti, few of us can afford to simply write for a living. Luckily, I enjoy teaching so much, that fellow author Alison Knight and I decided to start a creative writing workshop company so that we could continue to earn money while doing something we love!
Imagine: Creative and Life Writing has recently launched in the South West of England-(although we travel anywhere in the UK or abroad). So if you fancy finding out what courses are on offer, check out our business page. www.imaginecreativewriting.co.uk
From romance to erotica, beginners to old hands like myself- we have something for everyone. If you fancy booking us to teach a class rather than as a student, just drop me a line. (For the purposes of the company, I operate under my other pen name- Jenny Kane)
Right- I’m off now to hide under my scarf, hat and dark glasses, to bustle my way through town, writing my next workshop lesson under the cover of ‘woman writing shopping list’ in the corner of the café.
Happy reading and writing
Kay xxx
May 8, 2017
Release Blitz: Damned If You Do by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai)
Out Now—Damned If You Do by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #bdsm #eroticromance #lisabetsarai #bondage #discipline #dominance #submission #sextoys #buttplug #faust #author #demon #pnr
(Excessica, 2017-Paranormal BDSM erotic romance (Five flames)-approximately 29,000- words- HEA ending)
Blurb
Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can’t get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?
Nothing you can’t afford to lose, my dear.
Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love.
Quotes
“Lisabet Sarai writes the most beautiful erotic prose. Her stories tease at the senses and transport you to a world of sexual pleasure.” ~ Desiree Holt, queen of BDSM erotic romance and author of Forward Pass
“I’ve always been a fan—Lisabet Sarai’s erotic fiction is certain to captivate, dominate, and leave readers begging for more.” ~ Alison Tyler, best-selling author of erotic BDSM memoirs Dark Secret Love and Even Deeper.
Buy Links (Ebook and Print)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2pT31HP
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2pEb3Uf
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/damned-if-you-do-lisabet-sarai/1126292735?ean=2940157395711
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/damned-if-you-do-10
Excessica: https://goo.gl/dZN3dr
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35009284-damned-if-you-do
(Other booksellers coming soon.)
About Lisabet
LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.
You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.
***
Excerpt 1: X-rated
The smoke-tinted windows created a perpetual twilight within the vehicle. An equally dark barrier separated the spacious back seat from the driver in front. No one could see the lewd manner in which Mister B dragged her shirt up to her armpits and her bra down to her waist, exposing her ample breasts. When he twisted her nipple with impeccably manicured fingers, lust poured through her, as though he’d opened a spigot. Her pussy overflowed to further drench her already-sodden panties. She squirmed on the slick seat, hungry for stimulation.
Without releasing her breast, he rubbed two fingers along the damp seam of her jeans. Wendy couldn’t suppress a desperate moan. He chuckled as he sniffed his fingertips. “Your fragrance is exquisite, my dear.” Cupping her pubis, he ground the heel of his hand against her clit while his fingers beat out a frustrating rhythm against the tightly stretched denim between her thighs.
She hadn’t been this turned on in months—no, years. The substantial bulge at his fly told her he was also aroused, but somehow she didn’t dare touch him. Though he had yet to give her any orders, he had made it clear she had to obey him if she wanted to reap the benefits of this strange arrangement.
Meanwhile, an odd passivity had taken her over. He’d told her not to think, but only to feel. Her rational self, the part that screamed warnings about engaging in sexual trysts with total strangers, had retreated to some distant corner of her mind, leaving only a hunger to be touched, a craving to be filled, a shameful desire to be used and even abused.
“I know what you want, Gwen. What you truly need. I’ve read all your stories of implacable masters and eager slaves. But you never go all the way in your tales, do you? You don’t dare show the world the true depths of your depravity.”
His words inflamed her almost as much as his actions.
“I—oh!” He ripped open her fly and forced his hand down the front of her jeans, under the elastic of her underwear, into her soaked and swollen cunt. His fingers were like tongues of flame as they probed her cleft and teased her clit. “Oh, please…I can’t bear it…”
As quickly as they’d arrived, his fingers were gone, leaving her empty and aching. She gazed at him in a state of horny disbelief as he used a monogrammed hankie from his breast pocket to clean her juices from his elegant hands. “I shall decide what you must bear, my sweet little slave. Now I believe we’ve arrived at your abode, where we can explore this question further. You should fix your clothing.”
May 2, 2017
A Secret Smile: Quick Kink Two
My first love has always been writing erotic short stories.
Today I thought I’d share a complete story from my very naughty anthology, Quick Kink Two
Blurb
Quick Kink Two satisfies the reader with twelve bite-sized erotic tales of lust, master and servant domination and submission, bondage, instruction and voyeurism.
From the full-on experience of a journalist at an S&M wedding (The Bride Wore Rubber), to the power games of a mistress and her four willing slaves (Just As She Says), to the private, but instantly sexy adventures of a woman awaiting her part-time lover (Secret Smile), Quick Kink Two provides a tempting dose of straight, bi, and lesbian fantasy.
Secret Smile
Joanna’s legs felt stiff. They ached in places she didn’t think it was possible for them to ache. Even her hips throbbed, preserving the echo of where Lee’s hands had been; reminding Joanna of how he’d grasped her body with beautifully rough force.
The smile that played at the corner of her eyes as she moved around the house, carrying out the mundane tasks of the afternoon, was the only indicator of the amazing encounter just past. As Joanna poured water into the sink to tackle the mountain of washing up, her mind replayed the highlight of her day.
She’d been waiting for the doorbell to ring since one o’clock. It was already almost three, and time was running out. In a little over half an hour she would be on the school-run, and Joanna would turn into “Mum” once more, and not a sexy woman awaiting her lover.
Over the past few months Joanna had become accustomed to giving constant glances towards her front door as she sat at her desk working. She’d long since stopped worrying if Lee would turn up or not. If he was late it was because a job had overrun, not because he didn’t want to spend a few precious moments of time with her on the parallel universe they’d created for themselves.
No one else knew they met. A fiction they perpetuated by the sheltered nature of her home, her neighbours’ workday absence, and the fact Lee always parked his battered blue van in the next street.
Of course the later he was, then the faster the sex would be, but, Joanna thought to herself as she failed to concentrate on the spreadsheets she was theoretically working on, one of his quick fucks was always worth experiencing.
Joanna’s levels of anticipation increased with each tick of the clock that sat on the bookshelf next to her desk. As the flick of the second hand echoed through the quiet of the room, her body began to react to the frustration of waiting. She could almost feel his rough hands on her smooth, pale flesh. They’d be calloused, with the fresh cuts he’d have picked up that day from whatever his work as an odd-job man had bought him.
Her state of semi-arousal increased as her nipples, desperate for the attention her body had been expecting for the last two hours, pushed against her black satin bra. Leaning back in her swivel chair, Joanna closed her eyes and, impatience getting the better of her, began to dance her slim fingers over her thin maroon shirt. Undoing her buttons, one at a time, she pictured Lee standing before her. Joanna smiled as she imagined his clumsy digits fumbling over the tiny fastenings until he got frustrated with them, and simply yanked the whole garment over her head.
Only two buttons of her blouse were still done up, when the urgent ringing of the doorbell abruptly pulled Joanna from her erotic musings. She dashed to the door.
Lee hastened inside, apologising for his lateness, and muttering something about a badly blocked drain. His face, however, showed instant approval at Joanna’s dishevelled state. Muttering, ‘Nice bra, baby,’ he wasted no time, and dropped his hands into the gap she’d made, popping her tits free so he could attack them with his mouth.
She groaned into his shoulder as teeth grazed her nipples, sending electric shocks through her nervous system, instantly igniting her pussy. Then, as one, in a flurry of urgency, they simultaneously remembered the shortness of the time they had together, and yanked off their own trousers and underwear.
Joanna’s pulse raced rapidly as she saw how gorgeously hard he was already. Recognising the hunger in her eyes, Lee rolled on a condom as he whispered into her ear, ‘I’ve been pumping blood down there for the last two hours thinking of you, babe.’ Without bothering to ask for permission, he flipped Joanna over onto her front, and swiftly impaled himself into her from behind.
‘That’s so good,’ Joanna murmured as she surrendered her body to his thrusts, relishing the solid weight of his muscular frame as his huge hands grasped her hips. Slamming hard against his lover, Lee slipped a hand over her slick clit, massaging her wetness in time to his movements.
‘Talk dirty to me, baby.’
Without hesitating, Joanna immediately began to tell him what he wanted to hear, ‘You really are a bad boy, making me all wet, I’ve been thinking of how well you fuck all afternoon. I’ve also been thinking of a girl I once knew …’ Lee sighed as he listened, increasing Joanna’s confidence as she continued, ‘… she used to spend hours just sucking my tits, but you suck tits better, much better. Hell, I’ve never been as horny in my life as I get thinking about us together; my vibrator batteries have worn right down since our last shag …’
Lee grunted urgently into her ear, ‘Babe, I’m coming.’ He increased the pressure of his fingers on her clit, and suddenly Joanna was climaxing as well, her body shuddering against his sweetly sweaty bulk as he moved even faster.
They dressed quickly, laughing at their crumpled, semi-clad selves, making plans for their next encounter. Then, giving Joanna a fiercely deep kiss, Lee was gone.
Joanna sat on the sofa, marvelling at how quiet and big her house felt after her lover’s departure. Flexing her muscles, she knew that, in about an hour, her body would start to bruise and throb, with the satisfying worthwhile sort of ache which always gave her a secret smile.
****
I hope you enjoyed that!!
There are 11 other equally sexy tales within Quick Kink Two– if you fancy a peep, you can buy this e-anthology from all good e-retailers, including-
Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Quick-Kink-Two-instruction-ebook/dp/B008GU41P6/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kinc_1
Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.com/Quick-Kink-Two-instruction-ebook/dp/B008GU41P6/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kstore_1
Happy reading,
Kay xx
April 26, 2017
‘The Collector’ Rides Again
Last year I re-released my first solo work, The Collector. It had a total re-edit, and added 2 brand news HOT stories to the 20 already snuggled between it’s pages.
Blurb
Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of bus trips, train journeys, coffee shops, and restaurants, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels Great Britain.
The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from love, lust, submission and dominance, to voyeurism and beyond.
Are you brave enough to see if it was your supposedly private conversation she overheard – and then wrote down?
***
The stories within The Collector vary greatly in length, style, and taste. The best way to think of it is as an erotica menu- lots of tasty tasters to help you discover which erotica works best for you. If you alike all sorts of erotica already, then you should (I hope!) like them all!
You can buy my kinkiest collection on Kindle!
Buy Links – Kindle
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
***
Here are a couple of lovely reviews!
‘WOW, what a GREAT book! Ms. Jaybee, the true author of THE COLLECTOR, honestly has me curious if she is, in fact, this collector. Her intros were so well written and believable that I fell under an erotic spell while reading. I didn’t LOVE every story, but I really did at least LIKE almost all of them for one reason or another. My favorites were Treasure, where a woman invites a friend of a friend back to her place so he can discover her hidden treasure; and Crushed, where a 2 (and a half) people in a standstill crowd experienced a hedonistic anonymous encounter. If I heard real life stories like these on a regular basis, I swear I would die from a state of constant arousal! … ‘ The Romance Reviews
‘Such a unique book. The title was perfect for this book. The Collector. I know you are asking how I call an erotic book unique. Well, it is because the author has such a wonderful way with writing. I admit this is not my first Kay Jaybee book, and it will certainly not be my last. Kaybee, is such a wonderful author. The stories she writes are not just all sex, they each have meaning, plot, characters, challenges. This book is no exception to her wonderful work. Another amazing read by Jaybee.’ Bunny Reviews
***
Happy reading,
Kay x
April 22, 2017
Smut Sunday: List thinking with The Voyeur
Delighted to be taking part in this week’s Smut Sunday! Don’t forget to check out all the blogs taking part by following this link- http://smutnights.co.uk/smut-sunday/
The idea for my BDSM erotic romance novel, The Voyeur, saw its first glimmer of light back in 2007, when I wrote a two part story called Fantasy 13, for the excellent , now sadly extinct, erotica web site Oysters and Chocolate. These full-on BDSM parallel adventures, both set in the ‘Discreet’ S&M club, were subtitled Clara’s Story and Anna’s Story (now Anya)- 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 café (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 stopping my imagination once I’d had that thought. Within the hour I had created Mark, a businessman 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 café!
***
Extract from The Voyeur
His evening meal complete, Mark sat back, contentedly sipping his cup of strong black coffee. Pulling a small, battered notebook from his pocket, he read thoughtfully for a moment. His self-restraint, although immense, was beginning to run out. It was time for them to progress to the end of the list. Pressing the intercom button, Mark summoned his personal assistant, Anya, and his housekeeper, Clara, to the dining room.
The women arrived swiftly, both aware of the importance of not keeping Mark waiting. Standing on the opposite side of the highly polished dining room table, his employees braced themselves for the coming instructions.
‘I have decided that we will take a trip to Discreet this evening. We will turn our attention to the next fantasy on my list. Fantasy 12.’ Mark’s cool blue eyes deliberately weighed up the reaction of his staff as he delivered his news.
Discreet was the reason that Mark spent such a large proportion of his time in his London flat, rather than in his mini-mansion in Oxfordshire, where his software business was based. It was only at Discreet, the most exclusive of the city’s BDSM clubs, that his increasingly imaginative fantasies could be publically appreciated; most of which involved the observation of other people’s erotic aspirations. Mark Parker was the ultimate voyeur.
Trying hard not to exchange glances with her colleague, Anya could sense the stiffening of Clara’s body as they listened to their boss. She knew that Clara’s mind, like her own, would already be racing; madly trying to guess what Mark’s latest erotic scenario would involve. Having survived fantasies one to eleven, they already understood the nature of the challenges they were likely to experience during the evening that loomed ominously ahead.
‘Anya, you will be less delighted than Clara, perhaps, when I tell you that this trip is intended as a lesson for you; possibly a punishment.’
Forgetting herself for a second, the PA lifted her head and stared Mark squarely in the face.
His lips smiled; his eyes, however, did not. ‘You wonder why? Why, when you are forever questioning my instructions?’
‘But Mark, I …’ Anya stopped talking, aware that by asking why she was simply proving his point. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath her white shirt, as her employer continued to stare at her.
‘Oh my dear Anya, you may never question me out loud.’ Mark’s voice was velvety soft, yet the potential danger of disagreeing with him shone in his eyes. ‘But I know that you constantly query my actions by your reaction to them. Subconscious or not, it has to stop.’
Anya couldn’t believe it; she had always been so dutiful. The perfect assistant. The willing slave. How could Mark know she privately questioned her existence; her choice at being here with him and Clara, living this less than “ordinary” existence?
Clara was hovering uncomfortably next to Anya as Mark came closer. ‘Tonight,’ he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, ‘you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task from our list, girls?’
They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten his questions were rhetorical.
Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write “Fantasy 1”, “Fantasy 2” and so on, all the way down – the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words “Fantasy 13”. The first 11 rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.
‘Only two more tasks to go.’
This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other, exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.
Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.
Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be both more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it. They also longed for it. Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs closer and closer to his own. Making them as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied Mark on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.
A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. ‘You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.’ Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.
As she considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, Anya privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 might not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than she’d survived before. She could handle this. They both could – no problem.
Then Anya saw her outfit.
Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar…
***
You can buy The Voyeur in paperback or as a download from all good retailers, including-
You can also buy The Voyeur as part of The Collard Collection, which also includes Kd Grace’s brilliant novel, The Pet Shop.
Buy links – http://mybook.to/collaredcollection
Happy Sunday Smut reading everyone,
Kay xx
April 16, 2017
Delivering Romance with Kink- Not Her Type
I will let you into a secret- Not Her Type is a love story!!!
Shush…don’t tell anyone. Kay Jaybee- writing a love story!! My reputation as a producer of bondage smut will be forever dented!!
Fear not however, for throughout the c.28,000 words of this novella, S&M sits hand in glove with the underlying romantic streak. For this is a love story that neither Jenny nor John see coming- or indeed wanted- at first at least…
Based on the theory that opposite attract, Not Her Type begins at the dawn of a seemingly impossible and unlikely alliance between Jenny (a ridiculously over-educated accountant, who hates reality TV, and always reads the book before seeing the film) and John (her courier, who has no education at all, and only reads if someone points a gun to his head).
Thrown together by an unexpectedly mutual lust, it is on their third meeting, during a mid-fuck sharing of fantasies, that Jenny confesses to John that, despite their extensive differences, they have something very important in common – they both (usually), prefer women.
Jenny let out a strangled whine, as much from the sensation of being so wonderfully full as from the irritation of having to wait to hear about his dream. An accompanying moan almost simultaneously escaped from John, as she gripped her pelvic muscles around his cock, holding and releasing him over and over again until she couldn’t wait any longer. “You’ve always wanted to what?”
John grinned wickedly, but said no more as he grabbed Jenny’s waist with one hand, thrusting faster, and snaked his other hand down between her legs to massage her nub. Now it was Jenny’s turn to lose her focus. Her film courier could have told her anything at all, and she would have been totally oblivious to what he’d said, as vivid red and orange bubbles of colour burst inside her head.
Shaking with the astonishing intensity of her orgasm, Jenny held onto him tight, digging her fingers into the ink-scarred arms.
She felt the shudder of John’s body as he threw his head back and came inside her. Wiping tangled hair from Jenny’s eyes, John eased himself away from her glowing body. At last he spoke, “I’ve got this picture in my head. I simply can’t shift it.”
“A picture of…?”
“Of you, and me, and…” He paused again, as if trying to decide if he should go on.
Jenny’s pulse-rate hit epidemic proportions. What the hell could be so outlandish that he’s struggling to tell me? Does he think I’ll run a mile or throw him out the house or something? “And…?” It was increasingly difficult to keep the frustration from her voice.
He took an audibly deep breath, “Of you, and me, and another woman.”
It took all her effort not to laugh. All that hesitation for such a standard bloke’s fantasy. But rather than mock, Jenny began to visualize the scene he was suggesting. Is this something he wants us to fantasize about together? Or something he actually wants us to do for real? As she studied her new lover closely, a buzz of excitement rose within her. Is he serious?
“Well?” For the first time since she’d met John he had a trace of uncertainty in his tone, and his confident eyes dipped and failed to meet hers.
So, he is serious. Moving closer to his naked body, placing both her palms flat on his chest, Jenny whispered into his ear, “You find her and I’ll do it.”
Never would Jenny forget the stunned look on John’s face as he spluttered, “What? Really?”
“Sure,” a knot of exhilaration gathered in her chest, and Jenny trailed her fingers lower, lightly twisting the hairs on his chest together in small clumps. “Anyway, it wouldn’t exactly be my first time with a woman.”
“It wouldn’t?!”
“No honey. It wouldn’t.”
A self-confessed nightmare when it comes to relationships, John warns Jenny that he can’t offer her more than occasional sex- yet, there is something about his favourite customer that keeps John coming back again and again – not least because this girl is kinky and then some!! It seems there is nothing Jenny isn’t prepared to do for John- every fantasy he has ever had is suddenly waiting for him to explore…
***
Do they live happily ever after? Do Jenny and John walk off into the sunset dancing and singing as if they were in some sickly movie? As if I’m going to tell you that!!
Buy links…
Happy reading everyone!!
Kay xxx
April 11, 2017
Some Wednesday on a Wednesday
I thought it would be nice to share a little from my newest novella, Wednesday on Thursday with you today – it is a Wicked Wednesday after all!
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 cafe 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…
***
Extract from Wednesday on Thursday
… Wednesday had selected her clothes with more care than usual. She told herself she was wearing her best underwear because it gave her more confidence. It was absolutely not because she’d spent a largely sleepless night dreaming of the coffee guy’s expression as he ran his shrewd gaze over her jet black satin bra with matching knickers.
With one extra button open on her shirt, Wednesday left her flat, raking her hand restlessly through her long chestnut hair. She kept telling herself that he was just a bloke who got off on the power of making her feel sexy. That was perfectly all right by her, because he clearly had no intention of doing anything beyond titillating her imagination.
Wednesday had experienced her fair share of relationships during her twenty-nine years, but no-one had ever managed to arouse her with a single glance before.
‘For goodness sake, woman, you don’t even know his name!’ Even though she kept trying to talk sense into herself, the four hours until lunchtime couldn’t pass fast enough.
By the time her break finally arrived, Wednesday thought her heart was going to thud right through her chest with nervous tension. Walking into the café, she was more than usually aware of the sound of her heels clattering across the wooden floor.
Wednesday forced herself not to look for him, to just queue up for her latte and toasted sandwich as she always did. Even though she managed to prevent herself from obviously surveying the busy room, she covertly hunted for him nonetheless.
He wasn’t there. A sensation of disappointment gripped her. She felt stupid; humiliated even. But only briefly.
There was an envelope on her regular table.
Sitting down with her food and drink, Wednesday gaped at the cream coloured envelope. Her name was written in clear script across its front.
Wednesday took a soothing sip of her drink as she wondered if the coffee guy was hidden nearby. She had an uneasy feeling that, if he was secretly observing her, he’d be getting off on watching her reactions. Struggling to steady her erratic breathing, Wednesday was more than a little aware that her tits were doing their best to burst through their satin holster.
Exhaling slowly, she opened the envelope.
The words had an instant impact on her internal temperature gauge. Wednesday’s body began to alternate between flushing with heat and shivering with cold, as if she was getting a fever and a chill at the same time.
Dear Wednesday,
Forgive my rudeness for not having properly introduced myself before now.
My name is Lucas.
I will be blunt. I find you fascinating, and would like to make love to you. I would like to say my intentions are honourable, but they are not. They are lust-driven, and I feel it only fair you know that from the start.
If you are interested in knowing more, then please come to the address below once you have consumed your toasted sandwich. If you choose not to visit, then I will leave you in peace from this moment forward.
Whatever your decision, I would prevail upon you to keep this correspondence private.
Flat 1.
56 Chambers Way.
Regards,
L x
P.S. I apologise for the coffee incident. I trust I did not damage you. I will make the sincerity of my regret known to you should you decide to be my guest.
Wednesday didn’t finish her lunch.
Her legs had started taking her in the direction of Chambers Way without bothering to ask the rest of her if it was a good idea or not.
She knew the address.
The building, a private block of flats, was only two hundred metres from the office block where Wednesday had been employed as an administration clerk for the past two years.
Knowing she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t find out what was within Flat 1, with her pulse racing, Wednesday hovered outside a dark green front door.
A door that led to Lucas and whatever he planned to do by way of an apology.
Without allowing herself to think about what she was doing, Wednesday knocked twice…
***
Buy Links
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N5SOMT0?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
Happy reading!
Kay x
April 9, 2017
Sale Blitz for THE TUTOR By K D Grace (@kd_grace)
Sale Blitz for THE TUTOR By K D Grace (@kd_grace)
I’m very excited to announce that for the first time ever, The Tutor is on sale for 99c in all ebook formats. Go ahead, have a sizzling Spring fling! Find out why when touch is impossible, intimacy can become a powerful work of art.
For an entire month, beginning April 4th, Lex and Kelly’s story is on sale for your reading pleasure. So go ahead and enjoy a journey to an intimacy that will totally surprise you.
The Tutor Blurb:
Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues.
The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.
Buy Links:
Totally Bound Publishing: https://www.totallybound.com/book/the-tutor
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2bV5Wak
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2bBEwX9
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-tutor-kd-grace/1124512836?ean=9781786510785
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-tutor/id1147250136?mt=11
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-tutor-15
Excerpt:
“Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.
“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know — down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”
“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”
He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”
With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”
Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”
“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.
“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”
Reviews:
“I was amazed at how well the author fanned the flames without the characters even touching. From well-detailed interactions to the steamy interludes, this is a story that is blazing hot.” 5 out of 5, The Romance Reviews
“Between helping each other, find themselves, exposing secrets and of course, some seriously steamy steamy situations, I fell hard for these characters. It’s really hard not to. Each one has their own secrets and darkness, but they learn from each other and feed off that. As much as this book is steamy and sexual, it’s just as emotionally driven. Yes, I shed a few tears, but they were happy ones.” 4 out of 5, The Jeep Diva
“This was a very different take on an erotic romance. I really enjoyed this story. The banter between Kelly and Lex was fun and interesting. Even without touching this book sizzles. The pacing was pretty fast. I don’t think I put the book down until I finished the story. Yes I loved the HEA ending. I also enjoyed the detailed character development and how the past events were slowly revealed.” 5 out of 5, Alpha Book Club
Sale blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services .
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April 1, 2017
Smut Sunday: Equipment…
It’s Smut Sunday– so I thought I’d share a little teasing taster with you today from my mini anthology Equipment and Other Stories
To his lust driven delight, Lee Cooper’s opinion that his girlfriend simply doesn’t have the Equipment to take control in the bedroom is quickly and deliciously disproved. Meanwhile, Kim is sick of her gorgeous neighbour Jack bringing home a non-stop string of unsuitable women to screw, while completely failing to notice the girl right under his nose. Taking extreme measures, Kim sets out to prove she is more than just The Girl Next Door. Mark’s girlfriend is Searching For Her– the perfect woman to make her lover’s dreams come true. A quest which leads her into the path of more than one willing young lady… From BDSM action, to sex toy play, and the fun of threesomes, each of the couples in Equipment, gets far more than they bargained for…
The three stories within Equipment are all centred on the concept of making fantasies come true, either via the use of sex toys, bondage or instruction- but always through the use of the characters plentiful erotic imagination and romantic lust…
In Equipment, local mechanic, Lee, is given an unexpected lesson in the pleasures that can be found by concentrating on the butt alone.
In The Girl Next Door, Kim is heartily sick of her friend and neighbour not recognising how good he could have it if he noticed her, and not the endless string of plastic blondes he brings home on a regular basis. The direct action she takes is steaming- and not just because the water in the shower is hot- you’ll see!!
In Searching For Her, one of the most popular M/F fantasies is explored. A woman is sent upon a mission by her lover to find them the perfect woman for them to share. She must report back to her partner on the results of her research again and again, until the right woman is finally found. Once a willing female has been located, the fun really begins…
I have so much fun writing erotica- especially when I add in additional elements, such as sex toys or a third partner. These ‘extras’ add to the dynamic of any relationship, whether it be new or established. The hit of a paddle may give huge pleasure to the recipient, and the wielder of the weapon, but to me as a writer it is the thoughts that go through the characters minds that really turn me on.
Here is a tasty extract from the title story-
Equipment
The moment I saw his naked arse, I knew that I wanted to fuck it, and I told him so. It was the first time I’d seen Lee Cooper unsure of himself. For a split second a veil of uncertainty, possibly even fear, had crossed his generally ultra-confident square features. It didn’t last though, and he was soon shrugging my statement off with a lad-ish laugh, ‘you ain’t got the equipment baby,’ as he eased his solid cock into my willing body.
I started working part-time at the garage, where Lee is employed as a mechanic, three months ago. The first thing he said to me, as his clear brown eyes appraised my slight frame and red plaited hair was, ‘I’m looking forward to pulling on those pigtails honey.’ From anybody else I wouldn’t have taken a comment like that, but somehow from Lee it was okay. He exuded a sort of sexual confidence, and the instant and silent knowledge that eventually we would fuck radiated from his every pore. It would have been foolish of me to deny that unspoken understanding, and I privately looked forward to the day I’d discover if the tattoos that adorned his muscular arms, extended to his chest and down his legs.
That was three flirtatious months ago, and it had been fun letting the erotic tension build between us, getting more intense as the weeks of inaction ticked by, but finally, Lee’s resolve had broken. He told me, as he hammered an impatient fist on my front door during his lunch hour, that he’d been changing the oil in a beat-up old motorcar, when he’d realised he couldn’t hold on another moment.
After the glorious frisson of the wait, there was always the risk that the reality wouldn’t live up to the expectation. I hadn’t been disappointed however, far from it…
I smiled to myself as Lee dragged his grubby boiler suit back on, and disappeared down my garden path at a run. His words echoed in my head, “You ain’t got the equipment baby.” A wicked twinkle began to shine in my eyes at the prospect of what lay ahead for the unsuspecting mechanic, and speaking across the empty room, I said, ‘Well actually Mr Lee Cooper, I have all the equipment we could possibly need…’
The thought of his tight arse, of claiming it as my own, of taking control of Lee for a while, and perhaps robbing him of a portion of his macho-attitude, grew within me, and I began to lay plans for the temporary domination of this alpha-male.
On Lee’s next visit, predictably the following lunchtime, I embarked on a mission to both enjoy myself, and to lull him into a false sense of security, neither mentioning how delicious I found his backside, nor my eventual intentions for it. As his calloused hands made their way over my naked chest, pinching my nipples with exquisitely painful squeezes, I groaned with genuine pleasure. Stroking the beautifully toned body that pushed against mine, I relished the sight of the tanned multi-tattooed chest I’d so recently discovered.
It was on Lee’s fourth visit that I kept my hands exclusively on his backside. Patting it gently, smoothing it, and caressing it, in a totally non-threatening way, as my new lover pumped himself swiftly in and out of me.
On the fifth visit Lee announced he’d had a dream about tying me up. His face, when I told him that he could do just that, was a picture. I’m not sure if he was more turned on by the fact he could do anything he liked to me, while my hands were secured behind my naked back, or by the feeling of power my helplessness gave him. I suspect the latter. As Lee’s warm tongue explored my stomach, and ducked skilfully between my spread legs, I wallowed submissively in the blissful feelings that engulfed me.
During visit number six, a rare after work encounter, while Lee was both fucking and smacking my arse with stingingly wonderful efficiency, the last few parts of my plan fell into place, and I knew that my need to take his firm neat backside was reaching the point of obsession.
A little over two weeks after Lee had first turned up on my doorstep, I decided the time had come to act. Laying out my sex toys in a neat row near my pillow, I hid them from view with my duvet. Removing the clutter of clothes from the battered old armchair I keep in the corner of my bedroom, I adjusted its position so that it was at the foot of the bed. Then I took off my regular jeans and t-shirt, and put on my tight black Lycra bodice and matching knickers. The caress of the clinging material against my flesh was enough to increase my pulse-rate, and boot-up the arousal I had been so carefully keeping in check.
Lee’s distinctive knock on the door came at almost exactly seven o’clock as we’d arranged. I smiled quietly to myself at his promptness and, wrapping myself in a black silk robe, descended the stairs to collect my unwitting victim…
****
Equipment and Other Stories is available from All Romance (House of Erotica), Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all other good e-retailers.
Don’t forget all the other great blogs signed up for Smut Sunday! You can find them all here- http://ilovesmut.uk/smut-sunday/
Happy reading,
Kay xx
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