Kay Jaybee

Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Tasty Taster: Tied to the Kitchen Sink

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On March 24, 2023

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News, something for the weekend

If your #weekend is calling out for some seriously kinky reading matter, then why not take peep inside my collection of 3 quickie BDSM romance,

Tied to the Kitchen Sink. 

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 layer, 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.

There are three short stories tucked within the e-pages of my anthology, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, Becky and The Bad Poet.

It is into the middle story, Becky, which takes place in a very unusual office, where even the most minor mistake is punished, that I’m taking you today.

…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 what that blotting paper was used for, just 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 reading!

Kay xx

 

 

 

A Tasty Taster: A Kink A Day Book One

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On February 10, 2023

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News

The time for some erotic reading indulgence has arrived.

This week, I’m easing you into the weekend with an extract from my sexy anthology, 

A Kink a Day- Book One

Blurb:

From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

***

Extract from Through the Gap

I caught my breath as Sally ran through the master bedroom’s door and, without taking time to explain, bundled me away from making the bed, into the dressing room cupboard and slammed the door. I stumbled back amongst the hat boxes and glove racks that filled the small, musty space. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed an eye up to the crack between the ill-fitting double doors, just in time to see both the housekeeper and the Master of the house follow Sally into the room.

There had been rumours, of course. The other members of staff frequently whispered amongst themselves of debauchery and submission, without realising they were being overheard. Six months of working in this house, of being neither seen nor heard as I discharged my duties, had made me an expert at overhearing things, and yet I had discovered nothing concrete to substantiate such gossip.
I suppose I have a rather strange job; it’s a bit like being an actor and a bit like being a domestic, but mostly I’m part of a complex tourist attraction. Each day, my colleagues and I dress in Victorian costume and work our way around a period manor house.

As a chamber maid, my place is in the bedrooms. I dart between all 25 chambers, making and unmaking beds which are never slept in, stoking naked fireplaces, dusting, sweeping and generally doing all those domestic chores associated with Victorian maids. I’m allowed to answer questions from the tourists, but otherwise I have to keep myself to myself, lower my eyes when my betters pass by, and try and remain invisible in their presence. I had dismissed the rumours of sexual deviancy as the product of boredom from some of our senior staff members’ lurid imaginations; fantasies concocted to liven up a slow tourism day. Until now.

Mrs Lawson grabbed Sally’s wrist and pulled her towards the Master. His face was solemn, and a stern furrow appeared on his brow as he peered into the eyes of the scullery maid. ‘Mrs Lawson informs me that you’ve been found wandering about above stairs again, young lady. That is not your place, is it?’
‘No, sir.’ Sally’s voice had taken on a meekness that was so convincing I wondered if it was genuine. I tried to quieten my breathing so I could hear what they were saying.

‘You know the punishment, don’t you?’

Sally nodded at the Master again and I watched as, on a signal from Mrs Lawson, Sally undid her apron and took off her cap and shoes. The housekeeper then leant forward and yanked off my colleague’s black working dress, so that she stood shivering in some far-from-Victorian underwear.

Mrs Lawson’s eyebrows rose. ‘And what exactly are those, young lady?’ her voice was harsh, but the high points of colour that had appeared on her face showed how much she was enjoying the situation as she observed Sally in her black stockings, matching bra and knickers.

Sally said nothing, but hung her head in humble submission, as the Master of the house placed a large hand on the back of her neck, gripping it firmly.
‘You have the collar, Mrs Lawson?’

‘Indeed, sir,’ the housekeeper produced a short black leather collar from her capacious apron pocket, and swiftly secured it around the maid’s pale neck. Then, rummaging further, she pulled out a thin lead and clipped it to the small silver loop that was positioned at the front of the collar.

My throat felt as if it had dried closed; I could hardly swallow as I watched, afraid of being discovered, but at the same time wishing the gap I was peering through was bigger, so I could see more.

I was unable to hear what the Master was saying now; he’d lowered his voice, almost to a whisper as he pulled on the lead which hung between her breasts. Then, in one swift, brutal movement, he grabbed the front of her bra and pulled it off, snapping the strap beyond repair. Her tits spilled out, revealing themselves to be even bigger than they’d first appeared. I moistened my lips. I could almost taste them and, enviously, I watched as the Master, yanking on the lead, bought Sally closer to him, before bowing down and engulfing a hard, nut brown nipple between his lips.

Sally had been a friend ever since I’d joined the house’s workforce, and unbeknownst to her, I’d had a massive crush on her from the first time I’d admired her in her pristine white apron and mop cap. To see her receive another’s erotic attentions was agony to my jealous body. I pressed my eye harder to the crack and strained my ears so I could hear the muted mewls my eyes told me were emanating from her lipstick-free mouth.

Mrs Lawson, who’d been watching the scene before her with obvious satisfaction, stepped forward and, once she had received approval from her superior, bent to Sally’s other breast. I could imagine so well how wonderful that would feel, the tingling attention, the sharp tang of want that each nip, each kiss, would send hurtling between her legs as both tits were stimulated at once.

I was aware of my own growing arousal. It had been simmering at the back of my mind ever since Sally had thrown me into the cupboard. Now it was controlling me, and I couldn’t help wondering if my friend had engineered things so I could observe her. A second’s panic shot through me, and I pulled away from the door. What if Sally told them I was here? What would they do to me if they found me? Then I sort of hoped they would find me. My breasts chaffed against my bra and stiffly starched uniform, as I wondered how I’d cope in Sally’s position.

My fantasy was cut short by a sharp scream, and I was drawn back to the real life drama in the adjoining room. The maid’s knickers had, in my few second’s lapse of concentration, been removed, and she was now on all fours. Mrs Lawson held a short white cane, which she had presumably kept in her apron pocket, and was rhythmically tanning Sally’s backside as the Master pulled the lead, making the girl walk after him like an obedient bitch on heat.

I was able to view them from every angle, as they moved in circles around the room, Sally yelping as the cane struck her neat backside. Our Master’s eyes blazed, his dick bulging beneath his suit trousers, while the housekeeper revelled in her administration of pain.

Without registering what I was doing, I slipped off my apron and slid a hand into my knickers as I watched. My juices stuck to my fingertips as I imagined Sally’s liquid dripping from her damp pussy. For despite her calls of anguish, the maid’s face glowed with desire, and there was no doubt in my mind that this scenario had been played out, and enjoyed, many times before….

If you want to find out what happened next you can buy A Kink a Day One from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

***

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

 

 

 

 

Something for the Weekend: Take Control

By

On January 13, 2023

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News

This week’s #somethingforthweekend 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 from Kobo, Nook and on iTunes)

Happy reading

Kay xx

Happy Christmas!

By

On December 24, 2022

In Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News

Just zipping by to wish you all a

VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS

Lots of love, Kay

See you in 2023

xxx

(Don’t forget the @Smashwords sale if you fancy some bargain kink over the festive season!- https://kayjaybee.me.uk/uncategorized/smashwords-end-of-year-sale-kjb-bargains-2/ )

 

Something for the Weekend: Not Her Type at Christmas

By

On December 9, 2022

In BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News

For this week’s #somethingfortheweekend, I thought I’d share my favourite of the many Christmas shenanigans  I’ve written. The episode in question appears in my kinky courier tale,

Not Her Type: Erotica Adventures with a Delivery Man

Not Her Type

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 isn’t Jenny’s type. For one thing, he’s a man…

 

…The knock at her door made her jump, and Jenny physically had to restrain herself from running to see who the caller was. So what if it’s one o’clock? It’s Christmas Eve, he isn’t working, and he won’t come. It’ll be my next door neighbor with some mince pies or something. Her pulse thudded violently in her chest as Jenny moved to the door, convinced that the hope she couldn’t prevent from rising in her chest was about to leave her disappointed.

The silhouette through the glass panel in her front door was unmistakeable.

“I was just passing.” The shine in John’s deep brown eyes told her this was a blatant lie.

A wide smile crossed her face as Jenny let him in, “I thought you might be away for Christmas or something.”

“I thought you might be too.”

A feeling of awkwardness came over Jenny. Despite everything they had done together, there was nevertheless so much they didn’t know about each other. She felt almost shy as she spoke, “I was going to text, but I didn’t want to get in the way of your life or anything.”

“Same here. I thought you might be with family.” A large, rough hand raked through the back of her hair, easing out the knots, sending little currents of craving down Jenny’s neck and into her chest. Then, slipping a hand into hers, John steered Jenny toward the living room, swiftly banishing any uncertainty.

Gesturing to the middle of the floor, he said, “Last minute wrapping?”

“A few bits for the neighbour’s kids.” She could feel her pulse accelerating as he looked at her, “My family all live abroad, it’s just me in the UK.”

“That’s a big roll of paper for those little gifts.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he spoke or the look on his face that gave him away, but Jenny knew what was going to happen before he moved. In seconds, John had stripped her naked, and Jenny was being enveloped in large swathes of jolly, silver-star covered gift-wrap.

“Don’t move, and don’t speak, okay?”

Nodding, she tried not to laugh as John wrestled with the dispenser, before he cut off length after length of sticky tape, which he used to secure the paper tighter and tighter around her. Jenny’s arms became pinned to her sides, and her legs were clamped together as if she was some sort of bizarrely festive Egyptian mummy.Stepping back to admire his work, John’s face creased with hunger, and Jenny’s urge to giggle dissolved. She could feel her breasts chafing against the smooth, figure hugging covering, and suddenly she realized how desperately she wanted them to be free so that John could hold them, suck them, hit them…do whatever he wanted with them.

John began hunting around the room for something. Jenny however, could only wonder how long it would be before she could suck his shaft, or feel him slide between her legs. She wanted to speak, to ask him to kiss her, but she’d promised not to talk, and didn’t want to distract him from whatever he was going to do next.

He stood so close to Jenny that his dark eyes tunnelled into hers. He peeled his clothes off at a speed that made the lightning disposal of Jenny’s garments seem positively drawn out.

Attempting to distract herself from the need to speak, Jenny traced her eyes over the line of his chest, the hairs so soft and inviting, his tattoos just begging for fresh examination, and his cock, hard and firm, pointed at Jenny accusingly, as if making its owner as horny as hell was a crime.

Shuffling her feet unsteadily on the carpet, she watched as he began to unwind the satin purple ribbon she’d spent ages draping around her Christmas tree. Her throat turned the texture of sandpaper as she comprehended the meaning behind the devious expression in John’s eyes. He brought the two-meter garland toward her.

Naked and emanating power, John began to wind the ribbon around her neck in a large bow. Picking up a pair of scissors from the floor, he cut off the remaining strip of fabric, “I started thinking about doing this last night. I even have some rolls of gift-wrap in the van. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw this lot waiting for me.”

Wide eyed, Jenny saw her film courier twist part of the ribbon around his arm, before approaching her. Again, she guessed what he was about to do, and she tensed as the first bind of the silky material went over her eyes and around the back of her neck, trapping her hair.

Mewling into the purple darkness, and deprived of the sight of his gorgeous body, Jenny felt John’s fingers fiddling with the knot behind her head. Then his hands came to her elbows. “You look incredible. Are you okay?”

She nodded awkwardly; glad he was holding her, afraid she would topple over at any moment.

“Good girl. You remembered not to talk,” John’s breath tickled her neck as he said, “You are, without doubt, the most tempting Christmas present I’ve ever seen.”

As he spoke, her breasts, already swollen with their need to be touched, became taut and hot, and pussy juice began to leak along her inner thighs.

The pressure of his palm as he pushed it against her wrapped-up mound made Jenny stagger so much that John had to steady her with this free arm. Moaning as his fingers encased and probed her enclosed clit, Jenny’s liquid flowed freer, soaking the paper, turning the crackling sound it had initially made into a wet, squelchy rustle.

“What a hot, little bad girl you are.”

Jenny felt the layers of wrapping paper between her legs start to mulch as John kneaded and pinched her flesh. Then, with a grunt of frustration, he lifted her off her feet and laid her on the floor. An urgent hand came to her right breast, kneading her tit, creasing and crumpling the gift-wrap.

Abruptly John stopped, his weight lifted from her, and a sense of bereavement consumed her body. She had no idea how she managed not to plead for more.

The purple ribbon over her eyes became darker, and Jenny realized he must have turned the lights off. Then the chirpy Christmas tunes that had been playing in the background disappeared as the radio was clicked off. Silence filled the room. Uncertainty crept through Jenny’s mind, and a drizzle of perspiration trickled between the packaging and the back of her neck. Her ears strained to pick up a sound, but she couldn’t hear anything, not even her man’s breathing.

Time seemed to pass slowly as Jenny lay like a fallen statue, painfully aware of the friction of the saturated paper as it clung to her pussy. Every part of her body ached for a continuation of the attention it had been receiving. The ribbon against her eyes felt tighter than ever, but Jenny began to wish it was between her teeth, gagging as well as blinding her, for there was no way she could stay quiet for much longer. Clamping her jaw, Jenny was determined not to break the rules, but the more she thought, the more her resolve began to crack.

“John?”…

****

Well, I’d better let you go now- you are probably in a hurry to go and buy a few rolls of extra long gift wrap…

If you’d like to read about Jenny and John’s courier kink, or see what happened next on Christmas Eve, then you can buy Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man from-

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

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

****

Happy reading!

Kay xx

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