Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

Category: erotic romance Page 1 of 113

Tasty Taster: Take Control

This week’s #tastytaster comes from an anthology which strides, unashamed, into the world of male domination and consensual female submission – Take Control.

Take-Control-Cov-12014

Blurb

Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission is a collection of toe curlingly sexy tales of bondage and female submission from the pen of best selling writer Kay Jaybee. From a spankingly delicious Dinner With Tess, to a Staged public sex fantasy, an unforgettable alfresco hosing in Deluged, a kinky scientific Experiment, and the realisation of a long held threesome fantasy in The Necklace, Take Control offers five bite sized stories that will satisfy any lover quality erotica.

I’m going to tease you with a little taster from The Experiment

They would follow his instructions to the letter. That was what she had claimed. Still, he was suspicious. It was probably all a con, a devious way of playing on his growing obsession. But it might not be – it might be genuine – he might get to see what he longed to see…

A petite, traditionally dressed, stunningly beautiful Malaysian girl led him into a dimly lit room. The scientist dropped his briefcase next to a comfortable wing-backed armchair, behind which was a small but well-stocked bar. Suspended from the ceiling, a state of the art camcorder pointed forwards, poised and ready to record all that was to follow. Tastefully tame classical music was being piped into the room via a number of wall speakers; speakers which he hoped would reveal some far more interesting sounds in the very near future.

About a metre in front of the chair, a large picture window had been fitted neatly between that room and the next, creating both a theatre and private audience auditorium. A thick red curtain was drawn across the other side of the glass, so that as yet the voyeur could witness nothing from the space beyond.

The hostess, hovering by the bar, gestured to the various bottles of spirits with a questioning glance. He selected a whiskey and, shrugging off his jacket, waited as a triple measure of amber liquid was sloshed into a cut-glass tumbler. With the drink, the girl passed him a white envelope, on which was written The Story Thus Far.

He sat down, fumbling open the letter with hasty fingers, and his eyes devoured the words: Shortly you will see Gail and Jade. Both have been fully appraised as to your requirements. They have been placed within the neighbouring room, secured as per your instructions.

Before your arrival, again as you requested, the girls were subjected to considerable concentrated arousal to the breasts alone, and had nipple clamps applied. Both females are now desperate for further attention. We hope you enjoy the performance. Sit back, relax, and enjoy. The Malaysian girl bowed and left.

Making himself as comfortable as possible, he sat in the chair, satisfied that – so far, at least – his wishes had been carried out.

This whole thing was an experiment: an exercise to discover how much attention needed to be applied to a woman’s breasts alone before climax overtook the subject. Any resulting arousal of his own, he had convinced himself, was coincidental, and of secondary importance to the enquiry…

****

If you’d like to buy this e-book, it is available from Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers. (It is also available for Kobo, Nook and on iTunes)

Happy reading

Kay xx

Tasty Taster: The Fifth Floor

Let’s go to the The Fifth Floor  (The Perfect Submissive #trilogy- Book One) and meet Miss Jess Sanders as she starts her adventure into the (so far unknown) world of the BDSM submissive…

Blurb

Hidden behind the respectable façade of the Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire, five specially adapted rooms await visitors to the fifth floor. Here, Mrs Peters is mistress of an adult entertainment facility pandering to the kinky requirements of its guests. When she meets Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with an erotically demanding training schedule and a truly sexy exercise regime. But will she come to terms with her new career?

Meanwhile, Mrs Peters is temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fables’ fifth floor by artist, Sam Wheeler – who she believes can help her in her mission to transform Jess into the perfect submissive…

Here’s a tasty taster…

…Jess was sat at her desk, a half eaten sandwich in one hand; the fingers of her other hand dancing over the computer keyboard. Laura watched her through the office window for a few moments before confidently stepping into the room, interrupting the clerk without hesitation. ‘Mr Davies informs me he has not yet had time to complete your preliminary tour of the hotel.’

Understanding precisely where the manageress intended to take her, Jess spoke carefully, ‘I’ve seen most of it, but not all.’

Without confirming the clerk’s suspicions, Laura said, ‘I have a few moments, so if you’d like to walk this way I’ll complete that area of your training.’ She pointed towards the office door, ‘You are bound to be asked for directions around the place by our guests and it doesn’t look very professional if a member of staff gets lost herself, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would, Mrs Peters.’

Although she’d now worked at the Fables for just over a week, Jess still hadn’t looked her boss in the eye once, a fact that sent a buzz of conviction through Mrs Peters; her initial instincts about the girl had been correct.

‘Are you happy here so far, Miss Sanders?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters. Thank you.’ Jess muttered her response, almost managing to glance directly at her superior, but falling short at her shoulders. Laura’s heartbeat increased in response to the girl’s natural deference. Jess Sanders was just so perfect for what she had in mind.

As they walked towards the staff lift Laura attempted to improve the flow of conversation, ‘And I don’t think you have yet been introduced to all the other members of staff?’

‘Not yet, no.’ Again Jess spoke cautiously, and Laura knew from the expression on her face that she was both fearful and curious about meeting anyone who kept their business arrangements entirely to the Fables upper storey.

‘We are one member of staff down at the moment; one of my assistants has left us for pastures new. I’m searching for a replacement. Master Lee Philips, who works in the bar downstairs, helps me out as and when required, but it’s not an ideal arrangement. He has many other duties, and besides, the fifth floor guests frequently prefer the female touch.’

Following the clerk into the lift it was obvious that no small talk was going to come from her, so Laura calmly kept up her commentary. ‘My associate, Miss Sarah, should be on the premises by 10.00 each morning, unless she has had a complete night session, in which case she is not expected until 2.00 p.m. As I’ve said, Master Philips comes and goes, depending on our requirements and his bar and reception work. Miss Sarah has her first session of the day in a few moments, if we are lucky we should just catch the show.’

Visibly shrinking back, Jess noticed how Mrs Peters walked a little taller now they’d reached her domain. Her face was more set, her back straighter, and somehow she appeared even more intimidating than before. Pushing her hands into the deep pockets of her clinging knee-length black skirt, Jess hid the growing sheen of perspiration on her palms, while trying to ignore the fearful beat of her pulse.

Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.

Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.

Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.

The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of her head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made Jess reconsider. Her eyes kept drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.

‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’

Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’

The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.

The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination began to run riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.

As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise lounge and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.

If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’

A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xxxx

 

Digging Deep: Archaeological erotica

Updated, and featuring a beautiful new cover, Digging Deep, takes you to #Tunisia and a world of archaeology, jealousy, and lust fuelled romance.

Blurb

Dr Beth Andrews’ first foreign excavation, which she co-runs with the American archaeologist Dr Harrison Harris, gets off to a shaky start.
Thanks to the jealous interference of Harrison’s ex, an overzealous student, and a broken mosaic, Anglo-American relations are pushed to the limit, while Beth’s erotic and romantic expectations are similarly tested.
Love and lust really can cloud even the cleverest person’s judgement!

***

Inspired by a dig I worked on myself – far more years ago than I care to mention – Digging Deep is now available as an e-book.

You can find Digging Deep on Amazon UK and across the world, except for in the US and Canada. (My apologises to you if you are in those territories and wished to read the book – this is due to a rights issue I am unable to fix.)

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

Waiting for the Courier to Call…

I have a confession. I am dreadful at waiting for things. Most of all, I hate waiting in for couriers, postmen, workmen etc. I loathe how my life has to be fitted into their time frame-. The words, ‘We will call between 9am and 6pm’, drive me nuts! As if I don’t have a life to be getting on with!!

This is why I am so grateful to the courier boys who regularly bring work related deliveries to my home- for in return for the occasional top up of their tea flasks, and the use of the bathroom, they always call me and tell me when they are heading to my home, so that I can get out and about and on with my life. Plus, they pass on as many story ideas as their naughty little minds can think of! They are my muses, and they never let me down! Without them, there would be no Not Her Type at all!

 

Blurb

When Jenny’s regular film courier, John, reveals how 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 that it hadn’t happened?

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 is only one problem. John really really isn’t Jenny’s type…

The kindness of my own little troop of delivery men however, doesn’t mean I am not still at the mercy of the couriers I don’t know (believe it or not, I don’t them all!!). Having to wait, trapped inside my home, not being able to concentrate on anything I am doing properly in case I have to stop and sort out whatever is being delivered, a feeling of cabin fever usually grips me within an hour. The frustration of my own inability to settle to a job drives me nuts.

I drew upon this feeling of frustration- the annoyance of constant waiting- when I came to describe Jenny’s feels as she sits at home trying, and often failing to work, hoping that one o’clock on Tuesday afternoon will come around quicker, so that her lover, John will arrive. This frustration flows into the rest of her week, as she continually hopes he’ll turn up unexpectedly on a different day.

It is a while before Jenny realises that John is just as frustrated with the weekly gaps between their meetings as she is, and that he looks forward to seeing her as much as she does him…

Sexy - hands on back

At the sound of a van being parked in the driveway, Jenny flung open the front door, her heart thumping against her ribcage, her palms dotting with perspiration. Striding quickly from his vehicle toward his customer, John stepped into the narrow hallway; the expression on his face spoke volumes, reassuring Jenny that this, whatever it was, wasn’t over yet.

Before either of them had spoken a word they were rolling on the living room floor, speed being of the essence. Mouths glued together, their hands, legs, and tongues were a tangled mess, everywhere at once. Jenny’s psyche swam with a heady mixture of sensations, fuelled by the never ending surprise at how much lust she felt toward her visitor, and how much desire he seemed to feel toward her in return.

Taking her shirt from Jenny’s shoulders, freeing her luscious breasts from their delicate cream bra, he sighed, and suddenly Jenny realized that he had been looking forward to this as much as she had. Up until now, she had convinced herself that he didn’t think about her over the course of the week. It was like a mantra of self preservation in her head that she repeated over and over: I must remember I’m just convenient to him. We simply use each other for sex.

Roughly pulling at each other’s clothes, they were soon totally naked. Stepping away, Jenny gazed hungrily at him. He is just so yummy, so sexy, so… This was the first time she’d seen him completely nude. Previously, in their haste, trousers and boxers had remained around ankles, shoes and socks had been simply ignored. It was a minute frozen in time, as she examined him and he examined her; their appreciation was obviously mutual.

Drawing on a condom, John lowered Jenny back against the carpet, lying above her so his hard dick nudged at her skin, tantalizingly close to her clit, sending mini shocks of expectant electricity through her body…

***

When I wait in for parcels that I’m expecting, for the boiler to be serviced, for the plumber to arrive etc, I try so hard to relax- but I am hopeless. I like to be out of the house. I write best in my local café, and if I can’t get there I am a nightmare of unproductiveness! Thank goodness for my well trained couriers!!!

If you want to read more from my courier kink, then you can buy it from all good book and e-retailers including-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184

http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184

Happy reading,

Kay xx

It’s all in the setting

There are many elements needed to produce a good story, erotic or otherwise. For me, the first and foremost element to start a story is location. If I can’t picture clearly in my head where the action takes place- be it an intensely hot screw in a store cupboard (Tied to the Kitchen Sink),  or a stomach churning encounter involving garden twine in a shed (The Voyeur)- then the words simply do not flow.

It is for this reason that every single story I’ve ever written, from the shortest piece of flash fiction, to my longest novel, have all been set in genuine locations. What happens in those chosen places may be entirely fictional (with the occasional exception!), but every background setting within a Kay Jaybee tale is 100% real.

On occasion, I have tried to invent places in which to gather people, and then take their clothes off (or not), but none of these stories have worked. I need to be able to feel the vibe of a location. To know how the air conditioning hums, or how the damp aroma of rain soaked wood would affect the characters in a certain environment. I want to be able to accurately assess these environmental conditions, so each location has to be real.

An excellent example of this can be found in my recently re-released #eroticromance, Digging Deep .

Blurb

Dr Beth Andrews’ first foreign excavation, which she co-runs with the American archaeologist Dr Harrison Harris, gets off to a shaky start.

Thanks to the jealous interference of Harrison’s ex, an overzealous student, and a broken mosaic, Anglo-American relations are pushed to the limit, while Beth’s erotic and romantic expectations are similarly tested.

Love and lust really can cloud even the cleverest person’s judgement!

***

I had long wanted to use some of my experiences as an archaeologist in my work. In this case it wasn’t so much the amazing excavation I was part of that attracted me to write Digging Deep, but the difficulties of doing such work under the trying circumstances the location had to offer. Difficulties I faced myself, as an archaeologist, in the early 1990’s.

Tunisian Olive Groves

Tunisian Olive Groves

Tunisia might well be the perfect place to soak up the sun as a tourist in a nice luxury hotel, but outside of tourist world, it is a very different story. I wanted to capture how challenging, both physically and mentally, it is to sleep in a freezing cold half built house, on bare concrete floors, and then bake by day beneath a 120+ degree sun. Add to this the frustration of digging in sand, with its oh so annoying habit of backfilling in on itself every few minutes, and you have the perfect location and situation for even the most intelligent people to lose their sense of perspective- something which happened in real life as well as in the pages of Digging Deep– although in a completely different way!!

You can buy Digging Deep from Amazon-

Digging Deep eBook : Jaybee, Kay: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

It is my practise of using real locations in my manuscripts, which has led me to develop the habit of greeting every new place I visit with a silent surveillance of erotic suitability. There can’t be a café, library, museum, shop, store cupboard, or indeed anywhere, that hasn’t been corrupted Kay-style in my mind, as my ever active imagination seeks out new stories in every place possible!

So be warned- don’t invite be to your place – unless you want your living room to turn up in a future Kay Jaybee number!

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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