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FREE READ-Chapter 1- Not Her Type

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July 5  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Hello everyone. I’m rushed off my feet at the moment (Book tour with my Jenny Kane side). I thought I’d leave you a little something to read while I was away…

Happy reading…

Free Read – Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures of a Delivery Man

(copyright- Kay Jaybee and 1001NightsPress)

Young couple, isolated on grey background

 

Chapter 1

Tuesday – It Begins

What the hell am I doing? I’m a good girl; I just don’t do things like this.

A tiny fraction of Jenny’s conscience screamed at her. The remainder of her brain sent her hands on a thorough exploration of the densely haired chest that had unexpectedly appeared from beneath her companion’s polo-shirt. The fact that Jenny had never liked men with hairy chests seemed irrelevant.

Standing in front of her, diving a hand under Jenny’s top, John squeezed her left nipple hard, wonderfully hard, making her squeal with pain-tingling gratification. Removing her shirt at top speed, John freed her breasts from their confinement.

Moving as if on auto-pilot, Jenny’s fingers visited his trousers’ waistband, but in her haste she couldn’t get his belt undone. Rescuing her from her embarrassment with a smile, John mumbled something about it always being difficult to open and undid it himself. Jenny barely heard him as a neat pair of charcoal grey boxers appeared, swiftly followed by—Oh My God—the most beautiful dick she had seen in years, perhaps ever.

As she knelt before him, the voice in Jenny’s head continued its rant, reminding her that she hated giving blowjobs. Since her first experience as a college student, she had neither liked the taste of cock, nor the sensation of being gagged. Now however, working on instincts she never knew she had, Jenny took John deep within her throat. She felt his fingers drag urgently through her knotty, brown hair, raking her scalp as she greedily worked him around her mouth.

Sexy - hands on back

“Hell girl, have you any idea how often I’ve dreamt of you doing this?” John confessed. “Night after night I wank about you, about you holding me in your throat like this.”

Jenny was consumed with a perverse pride as she listened to John’s words—making her wonder if she should admit to the stolen moments she’d spent alone with a silver vibrator and her own filthy imaginings. Imaginings contrary to her normal fantasies; fantasies that often featured him.

His penis felt fantastic in her mouth, but the restless ache in Jenny’s pussy was becoming unbearable, and she pulled away, panting. The instant she let go of his shaft, John tugged her back to her feet and grasped her butt, kneading it in a way that would give her bruises for days to come, while kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Conveniently forgetting that she didn’t like the feel of stubble against her skin, Jenny relished the burn of his unshaven face grazing her, scraping her cheeks as their lips and teeth clashed together.

Her head buzzed, and her nipples were tickled by his chest hairs, and Jenny began to feel as if she were overdosing on desire. She badly wanted to slow everything down but, at the same time, she needed to go faster. She wasn’t far from climax, and the mere idea of their illicit situation was enough to send Jenny to the very edge of orgasm.

Recognizing how close she was, John shoved his customer’s knickers unceremoniously to her ankles. “I want to see you on your hands and knees,” he ordered.

Sinking against the carpet as instructed, Jenny’s breathing snagged as she heard the sharp rip of a condom packet being opened. Seconds later, Jenny found her courier’s thick cock sliding into her from behind. She was about to tell him how fantastically full she felt when John wiped all coherent thought from Jenny’s head by jamming his thumb up her arse.

Nuzzling his mouth against Jenny’s neck, John thrust against her, holding her hips as they frantically moved together. Trembling, Jenny’s knees began to buckle, and her elbows quaked. Seeing she was about to collapse to the floor, John eased out of her body, and flipped her onto her back, before plunging his dick inside her again. She clung onto his tattooed arms (ignoring her lifelong aversion to body art), relishing in the glorious warmth of her orgasm, as he shot his spunk into her naked body.

As soon as their breathing levels returned to normal, John knelt close to Jenny, teasing out the springy curls of her hair as he spoke, “I’m sorry Jen. I don’t like just walking out on you, but I have to go. I’m behind with my rounds.” Jenny watched her courier dress with lightning speed, leaving in a flurry of promises and assurances that he’d return the following week.

Not Her Type Brit Babe Rating

Not Her Type Brit Babe Rating

The living room seemed so large, so empty once John’s bulky frame had gone. Stunned and disheveled, Jenny stared at the space around her as delayed shock kicked in. How the hell had that happened?

 It had been years since Jenny had had sex. Twelve years, in fact; if you discounted one brief and unsatisfactory encounter that occurred three years ago. That was four thousand, three hundred, and eighty days of a self-imposed embargo after one-too-many broken hearts. She had survived by surrounding herself with friends, reading hundreds of erotica books, and giving in to countless masturbation sessions. But now, out of nowhere, right in the middle of her lounge,  , when she should have been sitting at her little desk checking other peoples’ accounts, she’d been thoroughly and expertly fucked.

Standing perfectly motionless, and very aware of her pulse pounding against her chest in the eerie quiet, Jenny tried to figure out what on earth had just happened. How their usual coffee break, with each of them sitting on either side of her dining table, had developed into a semi-naked romp on the sofa.

John had been in her home for only thirty minutes, and twenty of those had been spent discussing the DVDs that he’d come to deliver, just as he did every Tuesday. Then, he’d said something about how much he enjoyed their weekly chats, how hers was the only home where he was received as a friend, and how he always felt strange leaving her without so much as a hug.

Thinking back, trying to make sense of it all, Jenny thought that perhaps she’d laughed nervously when he’d said that, and told him she’d liked their “putting the world to rights” time as well.

That was when he’d actually hugged her for real, and she’d looked up into his wide, dark brown eyes and, in all of her thirty-three years, she had never felt a twist of lust like the one she felt then. It had burnt into her like some sort of erotic radiation.

How did I not see that coming? How bloody naive have I become? Jenny wondered. Shit, I don’t even know if he’s single…It’s been so long since I had a quick fuck. Too long…Hell, now I want another one, and soon. Damn.

Running upstairs to her bedroom, Jenny stripped off her hastily donned clothes and stared critically into the full-length mirror. Do I look different? No, my arms are still a touch too flabby, my backside a little too big, and my skin too pale.

She felt different though. A bit like the girl she used to be, when she’d been a student. When she’d been braver.

As Jenny carried on staring at her reflection, she allowed her hands to trace the outline of her body, a body that was already infused with the heady aftershocks of being totally seen to. Flashbacks of her past assailed her. Things she’d consigned to the back of her mind and nailed up into a little box, never to be opened again—parts of her life that she had long since given up on.

Losing all concept of time as she stood there, naked, still able to feel the mark of his fingers on her flesh, Jenny shook her head, trying to dismiss the memories that her body’s unscheduled reawakening had brought to the surface. She wondered just how many customers John had seduced with those dangerous eyes. How many other sets of fingertips had tripped lightly over the Japanese-styled characters tattooed on his muscular arms?

“Let’s face it,” she spoke sternly to her reflection, “that was just a one-off. Next week he’ll just want a quick coffee as usual.” Doing her best to pull herself together, Jenny unhooked her wrap from the back of her bedroom door. Heading to the shower, her wits were a tattered mass of contradictions—the elation she felt from the astounding sex was at odds with the very clear proclamation that was niggling at the back of her head. Jenny honey, he just isn’t your type. He isn’t even close!

If you want to know what happens next (and I can promise you one hell of a kinky ride), you can buy Not Her Type in either eBook or paperback form from….

Links-

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-ebook/dp/B00C8PDEE4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365345730&sr=8-1&keywords=Not+Her+TYpe+kay+jaybee 

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-ebook/dp/B00C8PDEE4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365345892&sr=8-1&keywords=Not+Her+Type+kay+jaybee

1001 NightsPress- http://1001nightspress.com/#!/page_KayJaybee

Happy Reading!!

Kay

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Collared With Kd Grace!

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June 29  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

Today I’m giving a shameless shout out to The Collared Collection; a boxed set I share with my lovely friend, Kd Grace.

collared-bundleThe Collared Collection Blurb:

The Collared Collection is a two novel boxed set from the pens of multi-award winning erotica writers, K D Grace and Kay Jaybee.

In the Voyeur by Kay Jaybee, wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of 13 fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite BDSM club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff – his personal assistant, Anya Grant, and his housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy, Fantasy 13, can take place. But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does Bridge’s gentleman’s club, Anya’s previous employer and a place she was delighted to escape from, have over Mark?

In order to find out, the girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they had left behind them all over again.

In The Pet Shop by K D Grace, in appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a pet, a human pet. The mischievous Tino comes straight from The Pet Shop complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, it’s extremely addicting. Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

Available from Amazon (universal link)http://mybook.to/collaredcollection 

***

The Voyeur is cover to cover, cheek to cheek with Kd’s novel, The Pet Shop. Both of us agree that while these two novels are among our favourite erotic efforts, they don’t exactly fit in anywhere else, and yet, together side by side, the do quite nicely. This week, I’m very happy to share with you a delicious excerpt from Kd’s ‘The Pet Shop’….Enjoy!

lead

Here’s an extract from Kd’s fabulous- The Pet Shop to whet the appetite…

Pets don’t like to eat alone. They prefer to sit on the floor by the table next to their keeper’s chair, where they enjoy being hand-fed. If this is not possible, place food in a bowl next to the water dish. Make sure meat is always cut into bite-sized chunks.

Note: The former is preferable, as most Pets and Pet keepers find sharing a meal in this fashion very enjoyable and a part of their bonding experience.

The manual was right. Once she got the hang of offering Tino choice morsels in her open hand, the laving of his velvety wet tongue, the slight nipping of teeth and curling of lips was lovely. He sat on his haunches, once again fully erect, resting his head on her naked thigh in between bites. If she hadn‟t been ravenous, she would have never been able to concentrate on eating. He was as happy to nibble the mushrooms and tomatoes as he was the bacon and eggs. The toast with honey forced him to lick the sweet stickiness off the tips of her fingers, even occasionally off her thigh when her efforts were clumsy with the excitement of having such an exquisite creature eating from her hand.

She‟d had a similar sense of excitement the first time a horse had taken a sugar lump from her hand. That something so powerful, something potentially wild and dangerous had allowed itself to be fed by her was an exhilarating experience. At present, the magnificent beast on the floor insinuated himself a little closer to her with each bite, and she was pretty sure this wild animal had more than food in mind.

Tino scooted and wriggled himself until, at last, he sat between her legs, his humid breath warming her mons.

With each morsel of food, he insinuated his waiting face a little closer to her pussy until her open palm with its offered tidbit was practically resting against her pubis. When a particularly sticky morsel of toast ended up on the chair between her legs, he carefully licked up every bit from the chair, and then he continued lapping his way right on up between her legs.

She caught her breath with a little whimper and a jerk. The bite of toast she was about to offer slipped from her hand onto her belly. Tino wasn‟t bothered. He simply squeezed in between the table and her body, forcing her chair back just enough that he could nibble and lick the toast and honey from her tightening abdominal muscles. That done, he picked up where he‟d left off, nibbling and licking between her pouting labia.

Fascinated and aroused by his eating habits, she grabbed a handful of egg and wiped it across her breasts and down her stomach, licking the remains from her fingers, feeling a bit animal herself. He raised his head again and worked his way up her belly nibbling scrambled eggs as he went, pushing her chair back farther and farther from the table.

She gave up on any semblance of proper table etiquette and slid onto the floor next to him. She grabbed the plate from the table on her way down, shoving a handful of egg into her own mouth before smearing more egg and a bit of tomato across her breasts and belly. Lying back she let Tino nibble and lap his breakfast off her body until she was writhing and grinding on the floor beneath his enthusiastic tongue.

He surprised her by taking a rasher of bacon from the plate and offering it to her, mouth to mouth. It was almost like a porn version of Lady and the Tramp as they gnawed and nibbled their way to each other’s mouth, tongues lapping and lips smacking the salty savoury taste of the meat.

She plucked a nice plump mushroom from the plate. It reminded her of the tip of a cock as she eased it between her slippery folds far enough that Tino had to work to get it out.

But Tino didn’t mind working for his breakfast. And by the time he had extricated the mushroom, she was completely convinced his tongue was prehensile. His face glistening with her juices, the mushroom pressed daintily between his lips, he slid up her sticky body and offered her the morsel with its unique sauce of their lovemaking. Together they gulped down the tangy fungus between gasps for breath, breath which seemed to be harder and harder to get as their meal continued….

Collecting Xcite's ETO award with Kd Grace in 2014

Collecting Xcite’s ETO award with Kd Grace in 2014

 ***

Happy reading everyone!!

Kay xx

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Cupboard Lust: Smut Sunday

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June 11  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I like a cupboard – a nice confided space with a door and shelves. Somewhere where you can get ‘stuck in’ while you getting stuck in….

Hardly Sunday morning thoughts perhaps!

But then this is Smut Sunday…Catch all the blogs here- http://smutsunday.co.uk

This week I thought I would share a little of my BDSM short story collection, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, to keep you going!

Tied to the Kitchen Sink

 

BLURB- Will can hardly believe his eyes when he receives the ultimate in birthday gifts. Karen, the girl of his fantasies, has been left tied to his kitchen sinks’ taps, ready to be played with exactly as he chooses. Meanwhile, Becky is having a spank filled first day in her new job, and a BDSM curious male allows himself to be lured into a dominatrix’s lair, by the tempting lyrics of a truly bad poem. Whether bound in ropes or handcuffs, as they are shackled to the bed, kitchen sink, or within the confines of a fetishists supply cupboard, the willing victims of Tied to the Kitchen Sinks’ kinky S&M and BDSM action, find their darkest and sexiest dreams coming true.

One of the elements of writing erotica that I enjoy the most is to take random mundane things, such as hairbrushes, books, chairs, or cardboard boxes, and give them far more interesting uses than the one they were designed for. With the three short stories tucked within the e-pages of my anthology, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, I had particular fun playing with this idea.

The use of a kitchen sink in the first (and title) story is far more interesting than just for washing up in! And in the final story, The Bad Poet, the implications hidden within a poorly written poem are played out over a small table and a bed that holds far more than sheets, pillows and a duvet!

Anyway- cupboards…

It is in the anthologies middle story, Becky, which takes place in a very unusual office, where even the most minor mistake is punished by the BDSM obsessed boss and his secretary, Miss Harriet, that you find one of my favourite cupboards. In this case, an office stationery cupboard…

…It is an unusual cupboard. From floor to ceiling in height, it has an increased depth hidden behind its grey metal doors. The shelves that surrounded the walls are set well back so that at least two people could occupy the remaining space with the doors closed. On every shelf there was a collection of instruments; canes, whips, paddles, nipple clamps. There was all the necessary material to keep a correction freak going for years; ribbons, ropes, cuffs, chains, gags. The more you looked the more your heart froze and your eyes widened. Becky looked. Her face revealed nothing.

Miss Harriet had silently come out of her office. Without a word she stood behind Becky and helped her off with her remaining clothes. She was so beautiful. I realised I hadn’t really looked at Becky properly before. I already wanted to touch; I began to imagine her beating my breasts with a short stick, before soothing them with her tongue.

I came back to reality. Such feelings must not be displayed here. Becky was now just inside the cupboard doors, facing her audience. She seemed to shine. How had she got to this point so quickly? It had taken me many beatings before I had learnt to enjoy it, and even after nearly eighteen months I could never be so open about it. I still have the shame. Maybe I need it.

Becky stared through us as she looked straight ahead. Miss Harriet had taken one of her slim wrists and was tying it to a conveniently placed hook on one of the shelves with a silk cord. Then the other wrist was secured, then the ankles, and finally, a thin silver collar was snapped securely around her neck, its long leather lead dangling provocatively between her breasts.

Miss Harriet stepped out of the cupboard and looked to her boss for approval. He nodded. I could clearly see, when I dared to glance, that his dick was straining against his suit trousers. They shut the doors of the cupboard and we all heard Becky gasp. She had expected pain, arousal. They had given her nothing…

****

If you fancy discovering just how much productive use can be got out of an office cupboard, how awful my poetry can be, and exactly how the kitchen sink was misused, you can buy Tied to the Kitchen Sink at Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers.

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tied-Kitchen-Sink-BDSM-Erotica-ebook/dp/B008J46P1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391959394&sr=8-1&keywords=Tied+to+the+kitchen+sink+kay+jaybee

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Tied-Kitchen-Sink-BDSM-Erotica-ebook/dp/B008J46P1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391959472&sr=8-1&keywords=Tied+to+the+kitchen+sink+kay+jaybee

Happy smutty reading!

Kay xx

PS- Don’t miss all the other Sunday Smut stops today x

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Smut Sunday: The Perfect Submissive

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May 21  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee


This week, for Smut Sunday, I thought I’d give you something to read from the first of the books in my darkly erotic series, The Perfect Submissive Trilogy!!

cover

I have been writing erotica for almost thirteen years now, and over that time I have built up something of a reputation for penning tales of the S&M and BDSM persuasion. Never has this reputation been more deserved than with Book One of the trilogy The Perfect Submissive, which I have to confess, definitely falls into the heavier side of erotica. In other words, it is pretty full on!

BlurbHidden behind the Fables Hotels respectable facade, five specially adapted rooms wait; ready to cater for the kinky requirements of its guests.

When Mrs Peters, the mistress of the hotels exclusive entertainment facility, meets the new booking clerk, Jess Sanders, she instantly recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with her unexpected training schedule, the increasingly erotic chill she experiences each time she survives a new level of correction, and a truly sexy exercise routine.

 Temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fable’s top floor by  an enigmatic artist, Mrs Peters begins to plan how she can secure his obedient assistance, in grooming Jess into the perfect submissive…

Making a living out of writing sex scenes is great fun whichever way you look at it. For me however, it is the kinkier scenes that are the most interesting and attractive to both read and create.  To be able to invent interesting and unusual- yet believable (if somewhat muscle stretching), ways to provide pleasure is a challenge I really enjoy. Taking everyday objects and turning them into instruments of eroticism- through either direct pleasure, or through pleasure via desired pain, is a wonderful way to spend my days! For example, why just use a paintbrush to paint with?

In the following extract, Miss Jess Sanders has been working at the Fables for a few days now, and has been introduced to the Hotels pseudo school room. We join the action were the poor girl has been tied to an art table for what seems like hours, and now, at last, physical relief has arrived…

‘Master Philips, this is Miss Jess Sanders, the new administration clerk, and soon, well … let’s just say, I have high hopes for this young lady.’

Jess’s brain galloped off at a number of conflicting tangents as Lee nodded in evident understanding. An understanding Jess certainly did not share. What high hopes?

‘While you were lying here enjoying yourself, Miss Sanders, Master Philips here, has proffered me a great service.’

Jess said nothing, her eyes trained on the white tabletop before her, not wanting to see the predatory look of either of the people who towered over her. She could feel the sexual tension rising in the stale air of the room, and her body tingled.

Daring another glance at the young man, Jess took in the short dark hair, the slim body, the midnight blue eyes, and the unmistakable bulge of a hard cock beneath his suit trousers, which made her pussy give an involuntary spasm against the brush.

‘As you can see, Master Philip, Miss Sanders has been corked with one of the heftier classrooms paintbrushes. Just a little something to keep that untutored body amused in my absence.’

Jess closed her eyes as she heard Mrs Peters talking about her as if she was a mere thing, a toy to be played with. The idea appalled her, and yet, somehow the thought that they could do whatever they liked to her, sent another shot of desire through her abused frame, confusing her further.

Lee said nothing, but watched as Mrs Peters’ hand went towards the bristles that extruded from the girl’s cunt. Jess groaned as it was abruptly pulled out, leaving her pussy emptier than ever.

Sardonically observing Lee’s aroused state, the manageress asked him, ‘Would you like your dick to replace the brush handle for Miss Sanders? I’m sure that right now she is feeling particularly in need of filling, and I know you have a cock worthy of the job.’

Without raising his head, Lee replied, ‘Thank you Mrs Peters, I would.’

‘Then assist me.’

rope

Swiftly Jess’s bindings were untied. It felt strange to be free, and the clerk’s shoulders cracked as she moved, flexing her arms and legs to get her blood circulating again. Jess wasn’t allowed her freedom for long however, as Mrs Peters yanked her arms sharply behind her back, re-tying her wrists, and shoving her into the larger and more comfortable teacher’s chair, her butt on the very edge of the seat, her legs spread.

‘As you are aware, Master Philips, I consider patience one of life’s greatest virtues, a lesson I think, by the look of desperation that is shining so blatantly in Miss Sanders’ eyes, it is high time she learnt.’

‘Yes Mrs Peters.’ Lee deflated slightly as he realised he would have to wait a little longer for his reward, but felt better when Laura passed him the paintbrush, knowing precisely what he was supposed to do with it.

Jess, her eyes wide, her throat drier than ever, watched as Lee ran the brush’s soft bristles between his fingers. Kneeling before Jess, he placed the tip of the paintbrush on the very end of her right nipple. Gasping with shock at the sensitivity of the touch, Jess began to shiver against the sweeping strokes Lee focused on her breast.

‘I must congratulate you, Master Philips.’ Mrs Peters spoke with approval. ‘You have an excellent technique there, arousing, and stimulating, without being quite enough to make your subject come.’

Jess groaned. Why wouldn’t they let her come? As the deliciously torturous brush moved onto her left tit, tears of desire and frustration gathered at the corner of her eyes. She knew she was minutes away from begging. Begging to be fucked, begging to be allowed to come; begging for a warm mouth to come to her pussy, her chest, her mouth.

Her quivers turned to shakes as her stomach knotted with the build up of a fast approaching climax.

A gesture from Laura and Lee dropped the brush, causing tears of desperation to course down Jess’s cheeks. ‘Now, Miss Sanders, you have to learn to pace yourself. This is as much for our enjoyment as yours, and we are not ready to let you come yet.’

Blinking in disbelief at her superior’s words, Jess felt the tears dry against her face, as once again the brush was employed by Lee, this time along her tethered arms, her unsteady legs and her taut stomach. Concentrating hard on not pleading for more direct attention, Jess tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs, and the increasingly obvious presence of Lee’s erection.

Jess’s persistent moans turned to helpless whimpers as Mrs Peters finally broke the tension, ‘You may remove your clothes, Lee.’

The young man moved with uncaring speed and Jess gulped as she saw the neatly circumcised penis that was pointing at her hungrily, slide into the waiting rubber.

Ordered to sit up straight, Jess obeyed as the barman gratefully sank his length into Jess’s slick snatch. Their mutual sighs of relief made Mrs Peters issue a sharp sneering laugh, ‘So young and so desperate.’

paintbrush

Picking up the brush, the manageress began to stroke the cream bristles back over Jess’s tormented nipples, as Lee heaved against her, slapping his backside and balls against her in his urgency to come.

Jess screamed out her climax, her body rocking in shocked pent up pleasure.

As Jess slumped against the barman, Mrs Peters dropped the brush to the floor. ‘You see, Miss Sanders, some things are so much better if they are promised, but withheld for a while. If you are made to wait, you appreciate things all the more. Don’t you think?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters.’ Jess spoke automatically through breathless lips. There really wasn’t anything else she could say…

****

If you fancy delving in to the world of Mrs Peters and discovering how Jess copes with her submissive education, The Perfect Submissive is available in paperback, and as an eBook from all good retailers, including-

AmazonUK-http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Perfect-Submissive-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1908262788/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358716163&sr=8-1

Amazon.com-http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Submissive-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1908262788/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1358717314&sr=1-1&keywords=perfect+submissive

Per Sub 3

Don’t forget the story continues after The Perfect Submissive with The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, and then the novella length extra tale, The New Room

Make sure you catch ALL the Smut Sunday links!

The New Room- Per Sub short

Happy Reading,

Kayxx

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The Story Behind “Not Taking the Tube”

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May 18  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

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.

tube train

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?

Yes Ma'am 2015

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…

***

Yes Ma'am promo 2015

You can buy Yes Ma’am

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Yes-Maam-female-domination-ebook/dp/B008H4JHVO/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1376072456&sr=1-6&keywords=yes+ma%27am 

Amazon US- http://www.amazon.com/Yes-Maam-female-domination-ebook/dp/B008H4JHVO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1376072566&sr=8-1&keywords=Yes+maam+kay+jaybee

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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