Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 44
September 11, 2016
Tantric Massage: A story exclusive inspired by ‘Karma Tantric’
There are many parts that make up the whole when it comes to erotica. Over the years I’ve learnt so much about a world that, to be honest, I knew next to nothing about before I had my first story published 12 years ago this very month. (Yes, time really does fly when you’re having fun)
One area that I’ve always been curious about is the world of Tantra or Tantric Massage. A few weeks ago I was asked by the lovely folk at “Karma Tantric” if I’d consider writing an exclusive story for them.
This was a challenge I couldn’t resist, and so I set to work. First though, I had to make sure Tantric Massage was what I thought it was! It’s easy enough to assume you know what a ‘real’ erotic massage is like, without actually having a clue!
So- and this is a very basic description- Tantra massage is an ancient healing art which uses sexual energy to achieve a higher state of consciousness. Skilled tantric massage therapists use sensual touches, such as lightly running fingertips along the entire body, to awaken an energy field within the body. The therapist, once having awakened this energy field, can provide lovers with an ecstatic experience. Not only that, but they can allow trapped physical and mental pain to escape from the body.
Breathing techniques, known as pranayamas are sometimes used to allow the client to actively move energy from one part of the body to other parts of the body. Using breathing alongside the tantric massage is intended to enhance the experience and helps the recipient exercise self-discipline and self-control during unanticipated arousal.
In short, Tantric Massage is about about taking the person being massaged to the edge of orgasm and back then repeating until a mind blowing orgasm
You can find out much more about Tantric Massage at Karma Tantric – https://karmatantric.com
Inspired by the idea of tantric massage, I have written a short story called Lower. I am not claiming this is entirely tantric…although the masseur certainly intends it to be…at first!
I’m hoping you’ll enjoy this brand new exclusive KJB tale.
Lower
(copyright Kay Jaybee)
His butt was even more beautiful than she’d dreamed. And Lara had dreamed about Callum Parker’s backside a lot.
Toned, but not overworked. It retained a shapely curve that was almost pearly white compared to the tan of his legs.
Lara allowed herself the luxury of just staring at her client’s back view for a few moments while deciding where exactly to start the therapy.
Each time Callum had visited her treatment room before, she’d concentrated on loosening his cycle tired calve muscles. Although they flirted constantly, and he’d frequently complained of saddles ores, his rear had remained a potential gift Lara longed to unwrap; a towel guarded point of fantasy.
Today the masseur was determined things would be different.
Operating in her vest and shorts, Lara picked up a tube of cooling cream, and tucked it inside her bra. ‘As I said when you booked this appointment, in the interests of reaching and treating every inch of your persistent saddle sores, I’m going to try a tantric technique. For that I’m going to have to sit astride the massage bed.’
Without waiting for a repeat of the approval Callum had given her on the phone, Lara climbed up, trapping his lower legs beneath her.
‘Comfortable?’
Callum’s muffled reply sounded positive, and smiling widely, Lara began to relax. Their increasingly tantalizing phone calls over the past few months had convinced her that the cyclist was as up for a more tantric method of muscle manipulation than he’d tried before. Something erotically charged, which would genuinely help ease his hobby inflicted discomfort, as well as taking her a step closer to her own fantasies about the man.
Dancing her fingers over the skin which marked the divide between Callum’s backside and his legs as if it was a piano, Lara tapped repeatedly while critically regarding the extent of the abrasions on his butt.
Never applying more than the lightest of touches, never pausing in her tender attention, she listened intently. Until she heard what she was waiting for, Lara had no intention of stopping the stroke of her fast moving digits.
Finally, it came.
‘Lara, please…’
Resisting the temptation to slip her hands between Callum and the table, so she could discover if he was as hard as she was wet, Lara extracted the bust warmed balm from her cleavage.
Unscrewing the cap, she placed the tip of the nozzle against the top of his buttocks. Then, prising his cheeks apart a little at a time, she gave the tube a squeeze. A thin snake of cream disappeared from sight as Callum’s chaffed cheeks closed behind Lara’s agile fingers.
Managing to keep the rising pleasure from her businesslike voice, Lara said, ‘I’m going to search for the spot where it hurts the most now. I’m going to find where you truly ache. I want you to tell me when I arrive at the point that’s the most saddle sore. OK?’
‘Yes, Lara.’
The obedient way he said her name sent a shot of power through her system. It was an unexpected extra aphrodisiac, leaving Lara wishing she’d had the nerve to take her shorts off before starting the treatment.
‘The aim of a tantric massage is to carefully work your body to a point of pleasure beyond the awareness of sores and strains. To release your own energies to provide a heightened desire that clouds any pain. Are you ready?’
‘Uh, huh.’
Using her index finger, Lara kneaded the lotion methodically, watching to see where the white flesh had been burnished scarlet the most due to the rub of the bicycle saddle. On reaching his anus Lara paused. She was enjoying the subtle change in the sound of Callum’s breathing. Suddenly he was panting as if he was cycling up a hill, rather than lying motionless across a massage bed.
‘How sore are you here?’ Tracing a second fingernail over his anus, Lara nodded in satisfaction as it puckered under the slight pressure.
‘I…’ Callum’s sentence morphed into a sigh as she dropped a pea sixed portion of ointment directly over his butthole.
Resting a finger in the centre of the newly deposited thick white liquid, Lara rotated it in tiny circular movements, relishing the effect she was having on Callum. His previously relaxed palms had gone from being flat, to gripping the side of the bed as if he feared he might fall off. She was sure he was already close to coming, and she lessened the weight of her ministrations.
Aware of the steady rise of her own pulse rate as well, Lara took a slow exhalation of air. Then, slipping a hand inside her knickers, she casually announced, ‘While I’m attending to your sore areas, I’m also attending to mine.’
‘What?’
The husky edge to Callum’s voice drove Lara on as she replied, ‘Unless you inform me that you have worse sores elsewhere, then the salve I’m stroking over your arse, is going to slip inside you soon. Very soon. Your rear keeps winking at me. It appears hungry for my caress, so I guess it must hurt in there.’ Lara paused, deliberately letting Luke’s steady climb towards the point of full arousal die back a little before she added, ‘And in answer to your question, I’m pleasuring myself too. My clit to be precise. It’s all stiff and rather slippery. Your handsome butt is having a very unprofessional effect on me.’
‘You’re…wet?’ Callum’s words were so low she could barely hear them.
‘Soaking. I may have to take off my shorts and panties. Do you want me to sit astride you while naked?’
He virtually shouted, ‘Yes,’ before his voice became more beseeching. ‘But I don’t want you to take your hand from my arse either.’
‘Why? Is that where it’s the sorest?’
‘It is sore there, but that’s not where it hurts most.’
Lara eased a little finger just inside his rim, forcing a throaty groan from Callum’s lips. ‘Ah, so that is where it hurts the most?’
The cyclist gave an audible gulp ‘The sorest bit is lower.’
‘Lower?’ Savouring the texture of his flesh, Lara thrust her digit deeper while bringing her other hand back into service, quietly easing the tension from Callum’s lower back. ‘Is that where it hurts most?’
‘Oh hell…ummm…no…but…’
Withdrawing her finger, Lara was about to plunge it back in when, in a rapid rush of movement, Callum twisted at the waist and grabbed Lara’s bare leg tightly. Pulling her until she had no choice but to awkwardly slide off his legs, he grunted, ‘You bloody well know where it hurts the most woman!’
His cock stood stiff and eager as he lay face up on the bed.
‘I believe that’s cheating.’ Somehow Lara found the strength to pull away from Callum’s enticing grip. ‘I hadn’t finished releasing your erotic energy.’
‘What the hell is that then?’ The cyclist pointed to his erection.
Lara smiled, but she didn’t reply. Instead she stood, quietly reassessing where to concentrate her therapy now her working angle had been prematurely altered. Eventually broke the silence. ‘Close your eyes and rest your hands by your sides.’
‘You have got to be kidding.’
Speaking steadily, Lara said, ‘Do you want this massage? Do you want to feel better?’
‘Yes, Lara.’
‘That’s better. Now trust me. Whatever happens, the end result will make you feel good. I promise.’
As Callum struggled to lie still, Lara forced her businesslike approach to continue despite her own growing arousal. ‘I can see that the saddle sore has affected more than your rump area. While I sort you out, I want you to concentrate on breathing in and out in time to the movement of my fingertips.’
Sliding each of her palms up the inside of Callum’s thighs, tapping each digit gently in turn, Lara smiled as his dick quivered in response to her presence. ‘Remember to think about your breathing.’
It took several minutes of soft pummelling before her client began to relax against the bed. Waiting until Callum had lost a little more of the desperate edge which had previously suggested he might climax at any second, Lara abruptly increased the pressure beneath the pads of her fingers.
Changing the angle of her contact, pressing her thumbs either side of his balls, working him harder, she saw Callum raise his head off the bed. ‘Breathe! Slowly.’
‘And what about you? You’re not breathing slowly? I can hear you from here!’
Lara laughed, ‘This is a case of do what I say, don’t do what I do. Now let me finish, or you won’t get the erotic massage you want, where you want it the most.’
Again she eased off the force as her fingers tripped lightly over him, sending a gratifying groan from Callum’s throat.
Once the tension beneath her touch had subsided, Lara began to re-edge Callum’s body towards a new erotic high by adding a finger to the action of her thumbs.
Instantly, Callum’s breathing became ragged as he fought his instincts to reach out for her.
As Lara witnessed a flush of a deep crimson assail his shaft, her breasts made a silent plea of their own from the claustrophobic confines of her bra, prompting her to a decision. The very next time Callum made an illegal move, she’d let him, whether she’d finished or not.
Sliding both her hands from his groin towards his inner thighs, Lara was in the midst of a private battle to close her mind against the urge to engulf his cock in her mouth rather than her palm, when Callum sat bolt upright.
‘For fuck’s sake woman!’ Grabbing her thighs in his large hands, he dragged down her shorts and knickers. ‘I think you can declare your erotic massage technique a success.’
Yanking her leg urgently towards him, Callum, said, ‘Sit here.’ Gesturing towards his face, Lara was quickly crouched astride his head. Her head spun as she made herself adopt the breathing pattern she’d urged him to use.
Breathe in- as his tongue hit her clit.
Breathe out- as his fingers worked her pussy.
Breathe in – as her whole being ached in sympathy with the cyclist.
As Callum massaged her with a combination of his mouth and fingers, Lara began to tremble, and by the fifth swipe of his warm tongue her breathing was as deliciously laboured as his had been.
Drawing away, Callum, carefully copying his masseur’s previously professional manner, said, ‘Tell me Lara, where are you sore? Where do you ache? Would you like me to massage you were it hurts the most?’…
(This erotic story was inspired by Karma Tantric, an erotic and tantric massage agency in London, UK)
***
I hope that made you smile…or at least tingle a little bit!
I think it’s high time I actually tried a tantric massage in real life…
Many thanks to Erica at Karma Tantric for inviting me to write this story for them today.
Happy massaging everyone,
Kay xx
September 10, 2016
Anniversary Week: Tasty Taster from The Voyeur
To help celebrate 12 years in erotica, I’m sharing a few taters from my archive! Today, we ‘re visiting the threesome, BDSM, psychologically challenging world, of The Voyeur…
Blurb
Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is in the process of making a 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 his willing slave’s bare backs, 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 why is Mark getting mixed up with Anya’s previous employers at the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club- a place Anya was all 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 had left behind them all over again…
****
Anya had re-scanned all the emails that had flown across the invisible airwaves of the Atlantic between herself and Candice over the past few weeks. Having retreated to the bathroom to redo her lipstick and add a second layer of concealer to the bags under her eyes, Anya felt was as ready as she’d ever be to face the confident, ultra-efficient American PA over the video link.
Having checked the webcam was working properly, and that she was seated comfortably for the forthcoming exchange of information, Anya grabbed a final glance at the notes she’d made, and turned the conference call facility onto standby.
She was just tapping in the password she required to be patched through to the States when the office door opened and Mark and Clara walked in. Anya’s stomach twisted into a knot of lust as she regarded Clara in a skin-hugging Lycra catsuit, all scarlet and black; a combination which showed her figure off to perfection.
There was no point in protesting that she was about to take an important call; Mark already knew that. Why else would he have bought Clara in, dressed so provocatively, at that exact moment? Her boss was a game player extraordinaire, and he knew precisely how to press her buttons, and freak her out at the same time. Anya had known Fantasy 6 would have to be replayed – but she hadn’t expected it now; so soon after Fantasy 2.
So, Mark isn’t going to rerun his erotic fancies in order after all.
Mark said nothing as he gestured for Anya to rise while he pulled her chair from her desk. Clara, without prompting, crawled under the desk, and crouching uncomfortably, waited for Mark to speak.
Even as her boss pointedly announced the obvious imminent replay of Fantasy 6, Anya was ahead of him, vividly remembering what had happened last time she had been forced to carry out a telephone call with Clara’s head between her legs. This time it seemed she was going to have to endure all the gorgeous delights to come while communing with an audience who could not only hear her voice, but see her as well; and who must never know what was going on below the desk.
‘Roll up your skirt, take off your thong, and sit down. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the importance of opening your legs as wide as possible.’ Anya kicked off her shoes and obliged. ‘Quickly, girl, it’s time for your meeting to begin.’
As she sat, pulling in her chair as close to the desk as it would go without squashing Clara, Anya tried to steady her nerves. The video line rang, and Anya plastered a convincingly serene smile across her face.
‘How are you, Candice, all well over there?’ Anya felt pleased at how normal her voice sounded despite the knowledge that the woman she loved was curled up only inches from her naked pussy.
‘I’m great, thank you.’ Candice, as no-nonsense as ever, dived straight into the business of the day. ‘I’m pleased to say that the personnel alterations we’ve had this end seem to be an improvement, rather than the procedural nightmare that we both feared.’
Anya listened hard as Candice listed the strengths of the new employees and what she hoped they would bring to Parker Software as a whole. But as the minutes ticked by, and Clara hadn’t so much as breathed on her, Anya found her focus beginning to falter.
‘And if his impact so far is anything to go by, then I judge that Stuart Hopkirk will turn out to be the better of the new candidates to fulfil the transatlantic element of the sales force. He’s more of a “people person”, if you see what I mean?’ Candice emphasised her point by using her fingers to show the inverted commas around the statement that Anya had only partially heard.
Why hadn’t Clara done anything yet? Last time this had happened, her lover had been straight in with the action. That had been hard enough, trying to keep her tone business-like when Clara had been employing her mouth so expertly. This non-action was far worse. Anya was so braced for the feel of the first touch that she knew she was losing the thrust of what Candice was saying.
‘Anya, are you OK?’ Candice’s southern twang sounded genuinely concerned as her counterpart failed to answer a question.
‘Sorry, the screen broke up then for a bit,’ Anya rallied, not daring to glance in Mark’s direction, knowing he’d be annoyed at her lack of professionalism. ‘Could you repeat that one, please?’
‘Sure. I was saying that Hopkins will be over in the UK next month, so I’ll confirm dates with you once flights are booked. Mark should talk with him face to face. His ideas on company development are interesting.’
‘Of course. I’ll sort a meet and greet session in London as soon as you confirm timings.’
‘Excellent! Right, that just leaves us to sort Mark’s visit to the States in the summer. Are you coming with him this year? It would be great to meet you in person.’
‘I doubt it. I – owwww!’ Anya jumped as a sharp pair of teeth dug into her pussy. ‘Oh, do excuse me; I think I was just stung. Must be an insect in here or something.’
Candice’s eyes narrowed. She looked far from convinced, but was too professional and polite to do anything other than take Anya’s word for it.
Anya could feel a blush start to creep up her neck and tinge her cheeks pink as Clara continued to nibble her teeth over and around her mound, pulling back her labia with a sharp pressure which she knew could bring Anya off very quickly.
It was time to end this conference call, and quickly. ‘Well, my diary has the last four days of July pencilled in as a possible. How does that fit with you?’
Candice tapped a few buttons on the out of sight iPad Anya knew she was physically attached to, and looked up with an orthodontically enhanced, white toothed smile. ‘The 29th is out, but the four days prior to that are clear. Shall I book Mark in?’
Without even bothering to check those days were free in Mark’s calendar, Anya said, ‘That would be excellent.’ As Clara’s tongue and right hand joined in the exploration of her crotch, Anya pretended to write down the dates.
‘Anything else you require today, Candice?’ Anya squeezed her fingernails into her hidden palms, trying to deflect the need to wriggle her arse closer to Clara’s lips, which had begun to move even faster.
‘I think that just about concludes things. Thanks for your time, Anya.’
Issuing a smile of genuine relief as Candice bought things to a close, Anya felt Clara’s long fingernails began to delicately scrape the space below her clit. Her smile toward Candice froze for a split second as Clara then forcibly pushed a hand under Anya, shoving her butt upwards so her anus could be tickled.
‘One moment please, ladies.’ Mark strode across the room, and bent into the eyeline of the video link.
‘Good morning, Mark. I’m sorry; I hadn’t realised you were there.’ Candice’s face lit up, leaving no one in any doubt as to how attractive she thought the owner of Parker Software was.
‘I’ve just arrived, sweetheart.’ Mark oozed charm at Anya’s American associate. ‘Could you be an absolute star and give me a brief breakdown of sales figures for the last quarter your end?’
Anya could have cried as Clara’s digits increased their pace. As she struggled to keep her body still from the waist up, her arse squirmed and her shoulders tensed. She felt like some kind of sinister ventriloquist’s dummy as her upper body stiffened, a look which, at an executive level, could so easily be interpreted as lack of confidence, and therefore weakness. If she wasn’t careful Candice would be putting the word about that she was cracking up. Given half the chance, Anya knew she would be on the next plane to the UK, kicking her out, so she could work with Mark instead.
Gathering herself together, doing her best to blank out what was happening to her below desk level, Anya snapped back into PA mode. ‘Actually, that would be very helpful for me as well; but if you wish for some time to gather that information, then I am happy to schedule another call tomorrow?’
‘Well, I can help a little now.’ Candice addressed Mark rather than the PA. Normally Anya would have been offended, but today she was simply relieved to have the impetus taken away from her for a minute, so she could take the opportunity to lift her buttocks from the chair, allowing Clara easier access to her backside. Instantly, Clara shuffled a digit inside her anus, and Anya trapped her girl’s finger and right arm beneath her, successfully limiting the source of the sensually distracting motion around her groin.
Undetected, however, Clara’s left hand continued its adventure by running up Anya’s legs, dancing only the tips of her fingers over the exposed flesh, making Anya shiver, causing the inserted finger to burrow deeper into her backside.
As Candice and Mark discussed import and export figures, Anya found it harder to remain centred on them, her mind drifting more and more to the curled-up creature beneath the desk.
‘Can you confirm that for me please, Anya?’ Mark’s voice snapped Anya back to attention. She was suddenly convinced by the way he and Candice were staring at her that this was at least the second time he’d asked her that question.
She knew there was no point in bluffing; they were both too shrewd for that. ‘I’m sorry, I allowed myself to be distracted. Can you repeat that, please?’
‘Sorry, Anya, I don’t have the time.’ Mark was brusque, and he turned his face back to the video link, treating Candice to his most disarming smile, ‘I must apologise for my PA’s behaviour, Candice. This unsatisfactory situation will be cleared up. Do you have time for another link meeting tomorrow?’
‘Certainly Mark, about 3 p.m.?’
Anya bristled silently, noticing that Candice hadn’t even referred to her diary, and privately hoped she’d find she was already busy and would have to reschedule, and therefore embarrass herself.
‘I’ll speak to you then. Many thanks, Candice; until tomorrow.’ Mark clicked off the link, and the room went deadly quiet…
****
Available in paperback or as an e-book, The Voyeur can be purchased from-
****
Come back tomorrow for a BRAND NEW FREE KJB read.
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xx
12 Years and Counting…
Twelve years! Really? How did that happen?
This week marks the twelfth birthday of the publication of my earliest erotica – a poem called Regrets for Oysters and Chocolate, and a short story for Violet Blue, called Jen and Tim (a title I picked long before I adopted the name Jenny for my romance novels!)
Even after all this time, my erotic imagination never stops working- a fact that can be awkward on occasions! I used to worry that the ideas might dry up, but so far so good…and it’s just as well, because these days I’m teaching how to write erotica as much as I’m writing new material.
Later this month I will be with my Brit Babe friend, Kd Grace, teaching at Sh! Woman’s Store in Hoxton, London (tickets available from – https://www.sh-womenstore.com/classes/essential-elements-of-erotic-writing-master-class.html)
To celebrate my anniversary, I’m going to treat you to a couple of tasty tasters from my erotica archive- and then on Monday, I’ll be putting out a brand new short story on this blog…
In the meantime I’ll leave you with a few of my favourite photo moments from the last 12 years…
Collecting Xcite’s ETO award with Kd Grace in 2014
Meeting some of the Brit Babes Fan in Manchester 2015
Making a flogger with Kink Craft!!
Getting ready to spank at Smut Scarborough 2014
Tasting lube with Lexie Bay at the ETO Show!
Chilling with Kd before a Sh! gig
4 Naughty Brit Babes…With my lovely friends at Eroticon
Kay Jaybee – photo shoot for The Independent by David Woolfall 2011
Sipping cocktails with Lucy Felthouse
Reading a snippet from A Sticky Situation in Dudley Library!
Photo Shoot at Vanity Studios, Soho
KD Grace Getting A Spanking at SH!
The Fabulous Renee at Sh!!
Tabitha, Lexie, Kd, myself & Victoria at ETO Awards 2016
I’m away now to reminiscence into a cup of coffee…
Happy kinking,
Kay x
September 8, 2016
Release Blitz: Out Now – The Persecution of the Wolves by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #thriller #shifter
Out Now – The Persecution of the Wolves by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #thriller #shifter
Blurb:
Werewolf brothers Matthew and Isaac have lived in the peaceful village of Eyam, Derbyshire all their lives. The villagers know what happens every full moon, and have their reasons for keeping quiet. But this secrecy comes at a cost—the brothers can’t risk romantic entanglements.
Then, at the full moon, a sheep is slaughtered on Eyam Moor, by what could only be a large animal. Even the brothers’ staunchest supporters begin to have their doubts about who—or what—could have done it.
As the brothers fight to clear their names, things are complicated by unexpected opportunities to indulge their lust. Isaac is intrigued by a handsome newcomer to the village, and a vivacious visitor is happy to offer Matthew her all.
Can the men prove their innocence, or is their centuries-old secret about to be revealed to the outside world, bringing their carefully-crafted existence crashing down around their ears?
PLEASE NOTE: This book was previously published as Pack of Lies—the content has not changed. The novel also contains both M/F and M/M scenes.
Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-persecution-of-the-wolves/
Excerpt:
As Matthew and Isaac Adams opened the front door to their house, the telephone started ringing. Matthew sighed. “Typical. No rest for the wicked. I’ll answer it, you go and get ready for work.”
Isaac nodded and headed off to do as his brother advised. Matthew, the older of the two, walked toward the ringing phone and snatched it off the hook. Then, remembering that the person on the other end of the line would have no idea what a rough night he’d just had, he made the effort to inject some politeness into his tone.
“Hello? Adams residence.” Isaac had told him time and time again that the last part about the residence was old-fashioned, that people didn’t say that anymore, but Matthew couldn’t seem to shake it.
“Hello, Matthew? It’s Richard.” The village vicar’s voice, even though he’d only spoken four words, sounded strained, almost panicked. “You boys just get back?”
“Yeah, a moment ago. Why, what’s up?”
“I, uh… I got a call. A dead sheep has been found up on the moor. Not just dead. Mutilated. Like a wild animal attack.”
An unpleasant feeling wormed its way under Matthew’s skin and his stomach flipped. “Oh?” He paused, then figured he had nothing to gain by not saying the next words he wanted to. “You don’t think it was us?”
The vicar’s gasp was instant, one of genuine surprise. “Lord, no! Absolutely not. I just phoned to let you know and I was wondering if you’d come up there with me and take a look? You and Isaac are probably more qualified than anyone else in the village to tell what did this.”
“Isaac has to work, he just went to get ready. But yes, I’ll come up. I’ll let my brother know where I’m going, then I’ll be straight over. Are you at the rectory?”
“Yes. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Matthew. Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
Matthew hung up the phone with another sigh. The horrible feeling that had crept under his skin and taken over his gut seemed as if it was there to stay, and it was never a good sign. The vicar’s news was surprising, yes, but he also had an inkling that it was going to spell trouble, or at the very least, inconvenience for him and his brother.
Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his jangling nerves, Matthew walked upstairs and toward his brother’s bedroom. The door was closed. He knocked. “You decent?”
“Yeah,” Isaac replied, “close enough.”
Stepping into the room, Matthew looked at his brother. He was half-dressed, ready for his shift at the doctor’s surgery, where he was a general practitioner. “Sorry to interrupt, mate, but that was Richard on the phone. They’ve found a mutilated sheep up on the moor, and he’s asked me to go with him to check it out.”
Isaac paused with one arm pushed into his shirtsleeve. “He doesn’t think—”
Matthew cut him off. “No. He was quite adamant about that. He just thought we’d be able to help figure out what did it. I explained that you’ve got to go to work, though. I’m going to head across there now and go up with him.”
“I could phone in, let them know I’ll be late.”
Matthew held up his hand. “There’s no need, brother. Relax. Just go to work and help the sick people. I’ll let you know what—if anything—I find out.”
Opening his mouth, then closing it again, Isaac seemed to have thought better of whatever he was going to say. He continued to dress. “All right, I will. But make sure you let me know what happens. Send me a text or something, and I’ll phone you as soon as I have a gap in between patients.”
Matthew grimaced. He hated texting. Hated mobile phones, actually. Technology was one of the things he disliked most about modern-day life, though he realized it was a necessary evil. It solved as many problems for him and his brother as it created, so he dealt with it as best he could. Fortunately, Isaac had always had an affinity with computers and phones, so he tutored Matthew.
“Yeah, all right. I’d better go and find my phone first then, eh?”
Smirking at his brother’s rolled eyes, he left the room and headed for his own bedroom, where he thought he’d left the device the previous night before he and Isaac had headed for the caves. Immediately spotting the mobile phone—which Isaac often made a point of telling him was akin to a brick—he grabbed it, stuffed it into his pocket, and made his way downstairs.
Retrieving his keys from the hook by the front door, he called up to his brother. “I’m going now, Isaac. I’ll see you after my shift at the pub. I’m working until closing time.”
“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me posted!”
“I won’t.” As if he could forget. The dead sheep was going to be a big thing, he just knew it. The vicar might not think he and his brother had anything to do with it, but some of the other villagers might. When there was no proof either way, just his and Isaac’s word, it was understandable, really. Since he and his brother changed into wolves every full moon, it was a natural conclusion to draw. Particularly since normal wolves had been extinct in England for over five hundred years.
*****
Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
September 5, 2016
Guest Post from Victoria Blisse: Real life Impacts on Fiction especially where Spanking is involved
Today I’m delighted to welcome my friend, and fellow Brit Babe, Victoria Blisse to my blog. And oh my goodness, has she got a tale to tell!
Over to you Victoria…
Real life Impacts on Fiction especially where Spanking is involved!
If you follow my blog you’ll know there’s been some interesting real life experiences for this shy, quiet erotica writer. If you don’t check out What it’s like to be Whipped and Waiting for the Kendo Cane to see what I mean. Yes, this author now has experience of real life dungeons and my butt (and other bits) has experience of being spanked, whipped, paddled and caned.
Now, there’s a confession, I could claim it’s all in the name of research but I’d be lying. I really do rather enjoy it. A lot. However, it has been really useful research. I think my spanking scenes have definitely benefited. Here’s a little snippet of one of the scenes from One Night in Manchester so you can decide for yourself.
Excerpt:
“As you’ve been so good, I’ll let you decide what I use to mete out your last five spanks. Would you prefer the paddle or the crop?”
What a decision. I’m not sure how much I like either of them, and I definitely don’t like making choices.
“Hurry up or I’ll decide for you.”
“Crop!” I exclaim, not really thinking at all.
The paddle hits my arse one more time.
“Sir, can I have the crop please, Sir?” I rush the words out in hopes if I say it quickly enough he won’t have time to hit me again. I could probably be quite decisive if Grant was always around with a paddle in hand, but then again I’d probably be much more easily distracted.
“That’s better. Now on to five strikes with the crop.”
“Five, Sir? You just hit me, though.”
“Oh, Jessica, Jessica, Jessica. That was an extra strike for forgetting how to address me. Now, if I were really mean I’d add another couple of strikes on to your total for questioning me, but you’re new to this and my dick is goddamn hard as nails and I need to fuck you soon. So I’m going to let you off this one time, but in future don’t question your punishment unless you want more of it, understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir—I mean, sorry, Sir. Or do I mean both?”
While I’m still pondering what I want to convey, I hear the thin, sharp whoosh of the crop cutting through the air. A moment later I feel the slap on my right buttock. I shut up as the focused impact takes all my attention. It’s so different to the thump of the paddle. Intense, hot and stingy. Do I like one more than the other, or do I hate them both equally? That’ll be something to ponder when I’m alone in bed and not while I’m waiting on another hit.
Grant doesn’t give me any time to adapt. He rains the next four slaps down on virtually the same spot in rapid succession. I stiffen and yelp, wiggle and cry out, and the pain grows and grows until my safe word forms silently on my lips.
Then it stops.
“Good girl, you took that so well. Now turn over.”
I do so eagerly, until my buttocks hit the mattress and the dull throbbing heat explodes with the contact.
“Shit!” I curse and he just laughs.
“Now, Jessica—”
“I mean Sir. Shit, Sir.”
Grant grins down at me and shakes his head. I notice he’s taken off his T-shirt and that his chest is hard, smattered with dark curls and begging for my touch.
“Okay, that’ll work for now, but try not to swear in future, it’s not terribly ladylike. Move back darlin’, and spread your legs. I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yes, Sir.” My breath hitches and I slowly inch back, ouching and ooching with each movement. By the time I’m settled, Grant has taken off his trousers and pants—well, pants and pants, I guess, since he’s weirdly American—and I’m getting to see him completely naked for the first time. He is magnificent.
***
Blurb:
After a flirty online relationship, Grant meets Jessica in Manchester.
He works in TV and he shows Jessica around the set where he’s filming. Their relationship quickly escalates and they have sex…on one of the sets! As things develop, so does their love play. In public places! And a little spanking never really hurt anyone.
Will Jessica be able to say goodbye to Grant when his work is done?
***
Buy Links:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01I2BS72Q//ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=sexy00-21
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01I2BS72Q//ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=sexy00-21
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/one-night-in-manchester
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/648625
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-in-manchester/id1131686070?mt=11
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-manchester-victoria-blisse/1124074104
Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Author and all round Cheeky Wench. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco, Smut by the Sea (Vol.1), Smut by the Sea (Vol.2), Smut by the Sea (Vol.3), and Smut in the City Anthologies.
She is the mistress of Smut UK putting on Smut Events, Days & Evenings dedicated to erotica, socializing, fun and prizes. Check out Smut Nights, Smut by the Sea: Scarborough, and Smut Manchester for more info.
Born near Manchester, England, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure.
Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.
You can often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook , Twitter and Pinterest
***
Many thanks Victoria- brilliant post. Much fun was obviously had during the research stage of One Night in Manchester!
Kay xx
September 1, 2016
Summer Indie Book Awards: Nominated!!
I’m delighted to announce that 2 of my books have been nominated in the Summer Indie Book Awards!!
The Collector and Not Her Type!!
Not only that- but 6 of us Brit Babes (Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lily Harlem, Kd Grace and myself), have been nominated for a Summer Indie Book Awards – all in the same category- Erotica (obviously!!) Lucy Felthouse has also been nominated in the Paranormal category (for The Persecution of the Wolves, previously titled Pack of Lies). We aren’t the only ones up for the prize – there are some great writers on the list as well as us- to see the full run down just follow this link.
Obviously, we’d love it if you’d give one of us Brit Babes a vote- but which one you choose is a tall order indeed! Here all our nominated texts: http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk/2016/09/brit-babe-ssummer-indie-book-nominations.html
These are my offerings!!! If you enjoyed The Collector or Not Her Type, I’d love a vote!
Many thanks!!
The Collector
Genre – Mixed erotic genres including MF, FF, MM, MFF, and MMFF
Anthology
Blurb Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of coffee shops, restaurants and bus trips, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels across Great Britain. The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from 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? Amazon
Young couple, isolated on grey background
Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man
Genre- Erotic Romance
Novella
Blurb When Jenny’s regular delivery man, John, reveals that she has become the centre of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned. One unexpected, head-swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again – and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend it didn’t happen? When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There’s only one problem: John really, really isn’t Jenny’s type…
To vote- follow this link (The Brit Babes – including myself) are about 90% of the way down the list.
http://www.poll-maker.com/poll533538x227d16e3-22
Happy voting,
Kay xx
August 31, 2016
Workshopping at Sh!: 23rd September with Kd Grace!!
I’m on the road again- or I will be on Friday 23rd September- with my dear friend, Kd Grace.
We’ll be at one of our favourite places- the Sh! Women’s Store in Hoxton, London, giving an erotica writing masterclass from 5.30pm.
Have you ever fancied having a go at erotica writing? Have you given it a try, but can’t quite get those paragraphs finessed? You really want to have a go, but the words involved make you blush? Then Kd and I will be there to help.
Why not join us for 2 hours of fun and imagination busting wordage, in the inspirational surrounds of London’s friendliest sex toy emporium!!
All you need is pen and paper, an imagination, and a sense of humour (No one can write erotica without a sense of humour!)
All the details can be found here- including location and booking details.
https://www.sh-womenstore.com/blog/erotica-writing-master-class/
Men and women welcome – obviously no one under 18 need apply!!
Happy writing!
Kay xxx
August 26, 2016
Upping Production
Frankly I’m not writing as much erotica as I used to these days. This is partly because the ‘other’ me, Jenny Kane, sells heaps more books and I have a mortgage to pay- and partly because I’ve been around so long. I didn’t want to get to the point where I heard my readers declare that everything I wrote was the same.
This is a damming accusation I’ve heard levelled at many writers- sometimes justifiably- and I’d hate to hear it about my own work. (If you so think all my work is the same, be kind and DON’T tell me!!) It’s one thing to have a recognised style, but another to write the same story over and over again, simply changing the character names and locations….
Lately however, I’ve been open to many new influences (my lips are sealed), and so I’ve been upping the smutty production again!
I’m thrilled to have a forthcoming short story, set in an African quarry, called Brick Dust, coming out in the next edition of Best Woman’s Erotica of the Year Vol 2.
I’ve also been working on two news short stories for another anthology…details soon…And a brand new novella!
I’m not going to reveal too much about this new book yet…but I can tell you that it’s a MFF tale based around a man’s fascination (obsession) with the human reaction to certain words…
Watch this space…
Happy reading,
Kay xx
August 23, 2016
My First Time: H K Carlton
It’s interview time again folks. In the hot seat- revealing her ‘First Time’ – is my lovely friend in erotica H K Carlton. Why not join us for a cuppa and a chat?
Can you remember writing the first story you actually wanted to write, rather than those you were forced to write at school? What was it about?
The first story I remember writing, funnily enough was probably an erotic story, or at least as risqué as a girl can get at fourteen. It was nothing more than a fantasy about a friend of my brothers. As I recall, it was the first time I used the word cock. How scandalous! It wasn’t a word I was allowed to use. Not that a young lady of that age should be using certain words but I came from a fairly strict and somewhat religious household and certain things were not to be said let alone written.
Unfortunately, I shoved the unfinished story, under my bed and one day while vacuuming, my mum found it. Sex of any kind was not discussed in that house. Instead of addressing the issue with me, for some unknown reason, my mother turned it over to my holier-than-thou older sister who took great pleasure in handing my pitiful little blue-lined sheets with the dirty words on them, back to me, all crumbled from the run-in with the vacuum hose. I remember she said, “Mom found these,” with a sanctimonious smirk on her face. I was so embarrassed. They’d obviously read it. In tears, I tore it up and I never wrote another story, not even ‘acceptable’ ones, outside of schoolwork, while I still lived under my parent’s roof. Sadly, that was the end of my writing for many years before I found the courage to try again.
On a happier note, I do recall writing a story for grade 8 creative writing class, that did not feel like an assignment at all. I had such a ball writing it. It was one of those times when my pencil couldn’t keep up with my thoughts. It was the first time I’d ever earned an A++. Hell, I believe it was the only time. LOL. I was extremely proud, especially when the teacher’s comments were complimentary and encouraging. Eleven pages of foolscap. Anybody remember that stuff? J It was about a stolen ring. I still remember the title, The Winkwaddle Detective Agency. I’m off to copyright that right now! J
What was your first official publication? Was that erotica?
My first book was entitled Swap, an erotic contemporary romance for Totally Bound, about a woman who had the hots for her hunky brother-in-law. I had two submissions out at that time, to two different publishers. Swap, to TB, and a historical romance with another publisher. Happily, both were accepted within weeks of each other.
I had no idea I’d be an erotica writer- it just came from nowhere! Was writing erotica something you intended to do, or was it a bit of a shock?
It was a total shock for me as well, especially after the bumpy start. I never thought being a published author was in the cards for me, regardless of genre. When I finally found the courage to write again, I did it for me with no intention of doing anything with it. My head was so full, I had to get it down on paper and out of my mind. When I finished, I didn’t feel like it was half bad. So, I did a whole lot of research and started fumbling my way through the process.
I intended to write historical romance because it was the genre I loved reading most, at the time. I’ve penned a few historical romances, but even they push the line of what true historical romance readers want to read. The sex scenes are a bit too explicit even if the language is tamed.
In Lost Time, I was able to combine both my loves—the historical elements along with erotic romance. To this day, it is still one of my favourites.
What affect did that have on your life?
I’m busier and have had to figure out how to budget my time between work and real life. But I’ve also kept my writing a secret from the majority of my family and that can be tricky at times when deadlines and release dates loom. Of course, my husband and kids know. My three children are extremely supportive and proud of me. I’ve always encouraged them to follow their dreams and they are happy for me that I’ve gone after mine. My closest sister (I have two, this one is not to be confused with the censorial one :p) has always been my champion and confidante. She was one of the first people I told when I began sending out submissions. But I have kept this secret from my mother, out of respect for her beliefs, and from my other siblings. I can only imagine my oldest sister’s smirk now, if she found out about my dirty little secret. LOL. Though perhaps now, the joke’s on her. 
Sex Toy Review: Sportsheets Neck and Wrist Restraint
As followers of this blog will know, I rarely do reviews for books these days. And you are even less likely to find a sex toy review on this site – alas, time is just so short these days!
However, the lovely people at Bondage Bunnies were recently kind enough to send me an item to test for them. The sort of item that would feel very at home amongst Mrs Peters collection on the fifth floor of the Fables Hotel in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy!
Quite simply, the Sportsheets Neck and Wrist Restraint is a must in the tool kit of any BDSM practitioner. It is the perfect next step for anyone who enjoys using handcuffs, but wants to ‘up the game.’
Beautifully crafted to give numerous different options within one easy to use product, this item will hold your Sub so that he, or she, is restrained against themselves, or in conjunction to any object you see fit.
Attached to the body via a comfortable, easily adjustable, neck strap, the Neck and Wrist Restraint is made from a strong strip of heavy duty webbing (20 inches in length), with 9 D rings against its side; onto which you can clip anything you wish. (A lead with which to take your Sub for a walk would be my personal first item of choice- but hey, I’m a control freak…)
With a pair of adjustable neoprene cuffs, that can be attached to any of the D-rings, as part of the package, you can bind your partner at the wrists or the ankles. As the cuffs are comfortable, and can fit most widths of wrists and ankles, then problems of the restraint being too big or small are non-existent. (And of course, you can always make an additional purchase, and add an extra pair of cuffs via the D rings, and secure both wrists and ankles at the same time)
Fixed at the neck and wrists using Velcro, the material is wonderfully soft. It should not leave abrasive marks against the skin, even after long term use..
This is not an easy restraint for anyone to escape from unaided (although in the interests of safety it is not impossible). But then, why would you want to escape when so much fun and sexual gratification awaits you?
If you enjoy testing your own sexual boundaries, or those of your partner- if you want to discover just how far you are both willing to push yourselves into the arena of submissive and dominator, then this is precisely the item you’ve been looking for.
I may just have to tell Mrs Peters and Miss Sarah about this restraint…just in case they haven’t purchased it yet…
Happy experimenting,
Kay x
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