Kay Jaybee

Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day 3

It’s time to sit down and enjoy a moment’s full on kink.

Something for the weekend?

A Kink a Day – Book Three

From the extreme kink of a wedding at a city S&M club, a deliciously erotic rendition on a double bass, an imaginative take on a set of brushes, and beyond, A Kink a Day Book Three provides eight bite-sized moments of lust-fuelled distraction. One for every day of the week—plus an additional fantasy thrown in to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
(A Kink a Day Book Three contains stories previously published Quick Kink One and Two.)

The Bride Wore Rubber

If I had been a newspaper journalist reporting on the wedding I would have used the headline, ‘The Bride Wore Rubber.’ Red rubber to be precise. Not in dress form, but sparingly, in the manner befitting the chief slave of an exclusive S&M club owner.

Thin straps of rubber circled her neck and supported a harness, which looped around her ample tits, pushing them up unnaturally high. Her flat stomach was bare, but her legs were tightly encased in rubber stockings, which moulded themselves perfectly to the contours of her body, outlining her firm thighs and slender calves. This skin-tight covering stopped short of her backside, revealing her round tanned arse and her smoothly shaved pussy in all their glory.

There was an elegant dignity about the girl. She was tall, slim, blonde and conventionally beautiful, but there was more to her than that. A quiet strength seemed to emanate from her, a strength that the addition of a red eye-mask, blinding her better than any bridal-veil, didn’t diminish. A leather lead was clipped to a matching choker which was, in turn, secured around her slender neck. The choker, in deference to the occasion, was studded with three small diamonds.

As the time for the ceremony drew near, I stood amongst the oddly semi-dressed assemblage of guests. They had broken into two clusters, one on each side of the club’s dancehall, leaving a makeshift aisle running down its centre.

At the end of this aisle, awaiting his slave-bride, stood Michael. I don’t know his surname, but I do know he is a very powerful man, with powerful friends, who like to play dangerous games. He gave off an air of quite arrogant control as he surveyed the scene before him. He, unlike his guests, was wearing full wedding regalia, a grey morning suit, cravat and top hat. Handsome in a rugby player kind of way, Michael stood head and shoulders above his best-man, whose chest was bare, and whose black leather trousers squeaked slightly as he paced up and down the aisle, waiting edgily for the procession to begin.

lead

From my privileged place at the side of the crowd, I glanced towards the doors. The increased noise of activity coming from behind them indicated that the bridal party was almost ready. I looked towards the rather uncomfortable reverend, who was waiting for what, I’m sure he hoped, would be a swift service.

I tensed, as did every guest in the room, as Mendelssohn’s Wedding March struck up over the clubs sound system, and the hall doors swung open.

The immediate whoops and cat calls from the overheated guests showed their instant approval of the party’s attire.

Holding the bride’s lead was a large man, who like the groom, wore a morning suit. A whisper from the crowd informed me that he was the brides’ future brother-in-law, and instantly I could see the family likeness. The solid chin, the square frame to the body, the arrogant dark blue eyes.

The bride followed him, blindly, sedately, humbly, on all fours. She crawled along, her breasts swinging beneath her, her arse burning with sharp red wields, that had obviously been administered by a whip only moments before. In addition, the bride had received an extra facet to her outfit. A string of red Thai beads had been threaded into her anus. I could only imagine how she must feel, debased and humiliated before this mass of largely familiar faces.

Two bridesmaids completed the group. Both similarly bedecked in skimpy white rubber harnesses and leggings, their faces were solemn and bowed. These were Michael’s other two personal slaves. I wondered if they were jealous of their colleague’s status, or if they were relieved that it wasn’t them blinded and on all fours in front of the entire club membership.

As the bride reached the makeshift altar, the crowd bunched forward, each person eager to watch the ceremony at close quarters.

I slipped to the front of the room, manoeuvring my way to a space behind the vicar, where a hired, wide-eyed, camcorder operator already stood, his mouth open in disbelief.

On reaching her Master, the brides blindfold was eased up, and she kissed his shoes, as the lead was passed to the groom. 

Michael looked down approvingly at his slave for a second, before allowing her to stand next to him. She rose with amazingly controlled poise, making sure the beads didn’t have a chance to escape from their intimate confinement, and therefore denying her intended the excuse to publicly punish her.

roses

The vicar began the service, and with what seemed an alarming adherence to tradition in the circumstances, the wedding speeches and vows began, just as if we’d been stood in any church or registry office in the country. I listened intently over the background buzz of the guest’s subdued chatter. The bride’s name was Mary. I wondered if her husband would ever use it, or if she’d be called Slave for the rest of her life.

When it was time for the groom to pass his slave her wedding ring my stomach contracted as, rather than a ring, the best man passed the groom what looked like a silver staple gun, but what I soon discovered was actually a piercing device.

The expression on the bride’s face showed that she hadn’t expected that. I watched intently as the groom bent and sucked hard at Mary’s left nipple, pulling it with his teeth until it stood proud and firm. Then on a pre-arranged signal, one of the bridesmaids stepped forward and wiped a small cloth, presumably of antiseptic, over the extant nipple. Once that had been applied, Michael wasted no time before putting the gun in place, piercing and ringing his wife like a chattel.

The bride’s cries of pain as the gold band was permanently secured onto her were partially drowned out by the booming voice of the clergyman saying, ‘by the giving and receiving of this ring, I now pronounce you Man and Wife, Master and Slave.’

I scribbled frantically into my notebook, as, like every eye in the room, I observed the silent tear streaked face of the bride. She was turned slowly, so that the whole room could see her newly swollen tit with its golden accessory. The congregation cheered manically as the vicar raised his arms and cried, ‘You may now kiss the bride.’

Nodding his thanks to the vicar who hastily departed from the room, Michael turned his bride to face him, and lifting her bowed head to his, kissed her tenderly, so tenderly that I wondered whether there was a genuine feeling of love there. This thought only lasted for a second, as he roughly pushed Mary to her knees, making the bead tail clatter as it hit the floor.

Michael called in a voice of authority, ‘Ladies and Gentleman, the wedding party will adjourn to my private study, you guests may amuse yourself freely, and then, in one hour, dinner will be served.’

His last few words were almost buried beneath the violent eruption of noise from the dance floor, as an instant orgy exploded around me. It took only seconds for groups and couples of men and women, women and women, and men and men, to be pushed up against one another, mouths, tits, hands and cocks everywhere.

lips

I however, had been instructed to follow the wedding party.

When I reached the large old fashioned style study, I was offered a leather chair in the corner of the room, alongside my still stunned filming partner. My breathing had become rather shallow, and I was all too aware that the events I’d witnessed had had a rather unprofessional effect on me. I attempted to compose myself, for I was sure that things were about to get worse…

****

You can read the rest of the story in A Kink a Day- Book Three.

Don’t forget you can find all three books from the series here – mybook.to/AKinkaDayTrilogy 

Happy reading

Kay xx

Something for the weekend: Take Control

This weekend I’m taking a another dip into Take Control .

Dinner with Tess anyone?

 

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.

 

Here’s an extract from Dinner With Tess

Tess risked a glance in the stranger’s direction. She felt her pulse quicken anxiously as he noticed her furtive look, and with slow purposeful movements, approached. When he told her his name was Jon, and that he was going to buy her a drink, Tess’s mouth hadn’t been able to find the words to say anything, so he’d simply gone and fetched one anyway.

From that moment, she had been ensnared, hypnotised by Jon’s strength, his quiet authority, and the promise of an undiscovered lust, which seemed to reflect back at her from his deep shining eyes.

Tess had spent the early part of the morning in the kitchen. This was to be the first time Jon introduced her to his friends, and Tess had suggested she cook for them. A roast chicken perhaps? Something warm and welcoming to greet them on their return from the photography club meeting they were attending. Jon had smiled his sexy smile and agreed that a trussed-up bird sounded exactly like something they’d all appreciate. Tess had been thrilled when he congratulated her idea by fucking her unceremoniously against the kitchen door.

She’d never met anyone like him before. Jon seemed consumed by lust, and, even though it had been almost a month since they’d met, Tess still found it hard to believe she was the centre of his attention.

As he was obviously a dominant man, she had been quickly awarded the role of submissive; and to her surprise, and perhaps aided by her natural reticence, had discovered that she rather liked being told how to behave, what to wear, and what to say.

Jon’s laughing voice echoed through the hallway and into the kitchen as Tess went to greet his friends. ‘Here she is!’ Jon’s arm swept around his girlfriend. ‘Tess, meet Jack and Ed, my friends from the club.’

‘Hello.’ She spoke clearly, trying to cover her shyness. As she shook their hands, Tess couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable by the way they looked at her. It was as if they were assessing her in some way, and she suddenly felt very aware of the shortness of her denim skirt and the thinness of her white cotton blouse.

‘Most lovely.’ Jack nodded approvingly at Jon.

‘She’ll do well.’ Ed’s eyes x-rayed Tess as he spoke.

A private shiver shot up Tess’s spine. ‘Do well for what?…’

****

If you’d like to find out what happens to Tess, you can buy Take Control from all good e-retailers, including-

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HYI8BHA http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00HYI8BHA

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

 

 

 

Something for the weekend: A Sticky Situation

A little erotic romance for you this weekend. Time to indulge in some conference time kink with A Sticky Situation.Blurb-

 

If there is a paving stone to trip over, or a drink to knock over, then Sally Briers will trip over it or spill it. Yet somehow Sally is the successful face of marketing for a major pharmaceutical company; much to the disbelief of her new boss, Cameron James.

Forced to work together on a week-long conference in an Oxford hotel, Sally is dreading spending so much time with arrogant new boy Cameron; whose presence somehow makes her even clumsier than usual.

Cameron on the other hand, just hopes that he’ll be able to stay professional, and keep his irrational desire to lick up all the accidently split food and drink that is permanently to be found down Sally’s temptingly curvy body, all to himself.

It could be a very long week- unless Cameron can find a way of making Sally slop so much of her after show champagne, that he has no choice but to march her off and relieve her of her sodden clothing… He is sure that, if he could find a way to stop Sally resenting him taking her previous bosses job, then they could enjoy no end of sticky situations together…

This novella was inspired by my own total and non-stop clumsiness- and habit of dropping toast and marmalade down my front…

As the shower burnt its jet of water into his head and shoulders, Cameron scrubbed his body furiously with soap, trying to wash away all thoughts of Sally. It had been years since he’d let a woman get to him like this. What worried him most was that he didn’t just want to sleep with her. He actually wanted her to like him. This was new territory for Cameron James. As he stood there, beneath the steaming deluge, he couldn’t stop himself from envisaging exactly what he’d like to do with her.

He saw her bent at the end of his bed, waiting for him to kiss her firm arse.

He visualised her lying on her back, her legs wide open. Sally beaming up at him as he lowered himself onto her; her chest swollen and her nipples hard as he ate them, his thick cock sinking into her moist channel.

Cameron could almost taste her as he felt his dick go rigid where he stood, droplets of water cascading off it as, with eyes firmly closed, her saw his mouth coming to Sally’s indescribably soft mound. In his mind he drank from her, the heated water of the shower combining with her liquid, sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Sally was moaning quietly, one hand leaving his head as she squeezed herself, playing her own fingertips across her beautiful almond tinted nipples.

Steadying one hand on the cubicle wall, Cameron’s fist came to his erection as his thoughts became more graphic, more urgent. He pumped slowly at first, as he saw Sally crouched next to him, the light pressure of her small palms pushing him to his feet so she could wrap her lips around his shaft. At first, she’d simply lick the tip enquiringly, as though she was trying a new flavoured ice cream for the very first time. Then, she’d speed up, lapping him with extended strokes, punctuating each move with a kiss to his balls; her nails discovering each inch of his hips and thighs.

Cameron’s whole frame shuddered, his wrist moving faster and faster along his length, the water almost forgotten as it pounded into his bent neck and ran down his back. Nothing mattered but the images in his head and the action of his hand. Sally had engulfed his cock in her mouth now. Sucking and teasing him out, almost stretching his pole, she was drawing him into her, until he was securely within her throat.

He could feel his orgasm rising, his brain flashing with differing shots of Sally as he wanked, of her lips at his dick, of his face between her legs, or her wet dress, clinging to the outline of her curves so temptingly, of how he’d marvelled at his ability not to grab her in the lift and tell her she was driving him nuts, and that he was a nice guy really. Of him slurping fallen food from her neck, of kissing her mouth, her breasts, her thighs; his hands everywhere as he stared into her beautiful emerald eyes.

As spunk spattered against the side of the shower unit’s tiles, Cameron’s eyes flew back open, his chest letting out a pent up exhalation of air via a guttural groan through his throat. ‘Enough,’ he panted into the small rectangular space. ‘Time to stop dreaming and actually do something about this!’

****

Or you can buy A Sticky Situation from Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all other e-book and paperback retailers.

Happy Reading

Kay xx

 

Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Three

It’s time to wind down from the working week and look forward to some time out. This weekend why not indulge in a little kink? A Kink a Day: Book Three to be exact!

Here’a an extract from the first story…

Brushed

‘Brushes?’

Leah stared down at the expensive gift wrap she’d just carefully undone.

This was the first birthday she’d celebrated with Callum, and Leah had expected something special. In fact, he’d promised her something special- something personal. The way in which he’d said it had made Leah assume she was going to receive some lingerie or maybe some sort of sex toy; a gift they could definitely enjoy together.

In her lap however, placed neatly side by side in a red silk lined wooden box lay, not the latest high-tech vibrator or a set of lacy underwear, but three different sized brushes. Backed with polished oak wood, one looked like a posh scrubbing brush, one was a pincushion style hairbrush, and the last was rather like a toothbrush, but was just a little too thin for that function. With its long slim wooden handle, the only use Leah could think of for it was to clean the spout of a teapot.

‘Yes. I really have bought you some brushes for your 28th birthday.’ Gazing over the breakfast hotel’s table into his girlfriend’s eyes, Callum saw a frisson of confused desire flicker across her face as the added, ‘They are however, very special brushes.’

Callum’s dark eyes had taken on an even deeper chestnut than they had done last night, when he’d made love to Leah with a thorough mind blowing fuck that had screamed professionalism, and left her gasping with the type of a blissful body shock that she’d never experienced before. ‘I promise that these brushes will turn out to be the best birthday present you have ever received- ever.’

***

Stories included in this anthology include, The Bride Wore Rubber, The Cave, On Show and more…

Blurb:

Eight hot erotic fantasies – one for each night of the week – and a spare…

From the extreme kink of a wedding at a city S&M club, a deliciously erotic rendition on a double bass, an imaginative take on a set of brushes, and beyond, A Kink a Day Book Three provides eight bite-sized moments of lust-fuelled distraction. One for every day of the week—plus an additional fantasy thrown in to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

Available from:

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

All three A Kink a Day books are out now!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy reading everyone- ENJOY!

Kay xx

Something for the Weekend: The Collector

It’s chilly – and the wrong sort of damp – out there. Let’s warm our way into February with something for the weekend.

Something Scottish is hidden between the kinky pages of The Collector, – an anthology of twenty two stories each ‘collected’ by an anonymous narrator.

The Collector 2016 b

 

Blurb

Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of bus trips, train journeys, coffee shops, and restaurants, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels Great Britain.

The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from love, lust, submission and dominance, to voyeurism and beyond.

Are you brave enough to see if it was your supposedly private conversation she overheard – and then wrote down?

***

Extract from The Scottish Fantasy

Stacie gasped as the door opened. The dark shine to the man’s slate eyes as he regarded her and her friend Kate was in danger of taking Stacie’s breath away, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

Tall, broad, with a tanned face and short spiked hair, a hint of stubble shadowed his square chin. Obviously surprised to see two young women walking through the woods so late on a winter’s afternoon, the ranger ushered them inside his wooden hut.

Introducing himself as Rob—Like Rob Roy! Stacie’s inner voice shouted at her. How perfect is that!—he looked at them enquiringly, ‘I dunna ken what you’re doin’ here, hens.’

Stacie’s brow furrowed. She’d thought that the Scottish spoke English.

Kate laughed as she saw her friend’s confused expression. ‘He means he doesn’t understand what we want, honey. “Dunna ken” means “don’t know” and “hen” is the local term for girl.’  Turning toward the ranger, Kate smiled. ‘This is Stacie, and I’m Kate. Stacie hasn’t got her ear geared into the local accent yet; she’s American.’

‘I guess that means an American accent.’ The ranger spoke so softly, Stacie felt herself melting on the spot. ‘I rather like those.’

Ignoring her friend, whose eyes were on stalks, leaving her in no doubt that Stacie was on an internal lust trip, Kate said, ‘We’re really sorry to bother you so late, but could you tell us where we are? We seem to be on a much longer trail than we intended to be, and we’ve lost the track.’

Rob’s dark eyes bored into her as she spoke. Kate couldn’t decide if their presence mildly amused him, or if he was merely tolerating the interruption to his work.

‘We’ve run out of water as well. Could we fill up our bottles here, please?’

‘It’s a good job you stopped, hen.’ The ranger pulled a map off his cluttered desk and pointed a thick finger at a red dotted line. ‘You’re here, on the all day walk. It’s called that for sound reasons.’

Lost in an erotic daydream, Stacie wasn’t listening to a word he said, just to the sound of his voice; the beautiful, gentle burr of his accent. She judged it fitted neatly half way between Ewan McGregor and Sean Connery.

When Kate had invited her friend over from the States for a couple of weeks exploring the Grampians of Scotland, Stacie had been thrilled. Not only could she catch up with her gorgeous friend and occasional lover, she could visit an area of the world that had always held a fantasy for her. Kilts, burly men in tight white vests, cabers being tossed, heather, whiskey, and mountains topped with snow.

The heather and mountains were a reality sure enough, as were the late night tots of warming whiskey she’d shared with Kate as they snuggled up together in the king-sized bed their Deeside hotel room provided. But until now, in this ranger’s office, hidden away in the woods near the flooded caves of Burn O’Vat, Stacie hadn’t seen anyone who even came close to the Celtic man of her late night fantasies.

Stacie felt mesmerised by the ranger. Despite the coldness of the late winter air he wore no coat, and his green sweater sleeves were rolled back to show arms honed by hard work. Forget kilts, this was as close to perfection as Stacie’s Scottish fantasy was ever going to get.

‘I’ll fill your bottles right enough, but if you’ll heed my advice, you’ll go back on the route you came. Far quicker and safer. It’ll be dark in about two hours.’

‘Thanks, I think we’ll do that.’ Kate watched as he took their empty water bottles over to his sink. His back view was as stunning as his front. The goldfish expression on Stacie’s face told her girlfriend that she was mentally undressing him, and Kate began to do the same.  Well aware that Stacie had serious fantasy issues where Scottish men were concerned, Kate wondered just how turned on her friend was. Did she have damp knickers? Were her nipples hard?

As Kate’s thoughts rambled, her own arousal began to tweak up a notch. Perhaps… She took a deep breath. Well, why not?

‘It must be lonely here, on your own all day.’ Kate knew the line was a bit lame, but she didn’t care. A sideways glance at Stacie showed that her lover had understood her intentions, and approved.

Rob didn’t look round. He didn’t need to. He could sense the two sets of eyes on his back; they were almost scorching him. Taking his time to fill the second bottle, the ranger thought the situation through.

Two of them, both hot totty. One a blonde, one a redhead. One English. One American. A tasty combination. Their bulky winter coats, sensible walking trousers and boots didn’t give much away, but he was willing to bet that once all the layers were off, they would be a sight to behold. He could be wrong, he supposed, but maybe…

Rob replied to Kate’s question. ‘I like it well enough, hen. I ken it’s quiet, but I like peace and quiet.’

‘So, you don’t get… lonely, then?’ Kate knew she was being blatant, but she didn’t care. If she could pull this off, it would be the perfect holiday present for her friend. Stacie, her mouth dry with anticipation, stepped forward. Pulling off her gloves to reveal pale hands with violently clashing purple nail-varnished tips, she took the full bottles from Rob’s hands. Making certain her fingers brushed his as she did so.

‘Thank you,’ Stacie purred as she passed one of the bottles to her partner. The tacit standoff that followed as tension rippled through the small office room-cum-workshop was eventually broken by Rob.

‘Would you lassies like something to warm you up before you go?’  His sentence, delivered in a deadpan tone, could have been suggesting something as mundane as sharing of a mug of hot chocolate, but his sparkling eyes hinted at so much more.

Stacie’s pulse quickened as Kate casually replied, ‘Well, if it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely.’ Another normal sentence, but packed with enough eyelash-fluttering that she might as well have screamed out ‘Fuck us now!’

‘I was about to light the fire.’ Rob knelt at a small grate, already neatly piled with kindling. ‘Perhaps you’d like to lose your jackets for a while. When this takes, this place gets pretty hot.’

The girls’ eyes were drawn to the hopping, spluttering flames. They threw their coats over their backpacks, which they’d already dumped by the front door.

Taking his time with the fire, the ranger didn’t stir from where he crouched until it had taken to his satisfaction, and was smoking nicely up the chimney. Then, with a measured movement, he stood and faced his guests, who with unspoken agreement had divested themselves of far more than just their coats. Somehow Rob managed to keep his face passive as his eyes travelled from the top of each girl’s head down to their toes.

 

They stood naked. Holding hands. So, lovers in their own right, then. Nice. He smiled. It had been over fifteen years since he’d been with two women at the same time. A memory that kept him warm during the dark winter days and nights as he guarded the woodland and its wildlife.

Deciding against comment, Rob took a silent moment to choose which girl he’d treat rough and which one he’d simply treat. Then, with a pace that neither girl would have associated with the man whose previous movements had been so controlled and steady, he stripped…

***

The stories within The Collector vary greatly in length, style, and taste. The best way to think of it is as an erotica menu- lots of tasty tasters to help you discover which erotica works best for you. If you alike all sorts of erotica already, then you should (I hope!) like

Buy Links – Kindle

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 

***

Here are a couple of lovely reviews for The Collector!

‘WOW, what a GREAT book! Ms. Jaybee, the true author of THE COLLECTOR, honestly has me curious if she is, in fact, this collector. Her intros were so well written and believable that I fell under an erotic spell while reading. I didn’t LOVE every story, but I really did at least LIKE almost all of them for one reason or another. My favorites were Treasure, where a woman invites a friend of a friend back to her place so he can discover her hidden treasure; and Crushed, where a 2 (and a half) people in a standstill crowd experienced a hedonistic anonymous encounter. If I heard real life stories like these on a regular basis, I swear I would die from a state of constant arousal! … ‘ The Romance Reviews

‘Such a unique book.  The title was perfect for this book.  The Collector.  I know you are asking how I call an erotic book unique.  Well, it is because the author has such a wonderful way with writing.  I admit this is not my first Kay Jaybee book, and it will certainly not be my last.  Kaybee, is such a wonderful author.  The stories she writes are not just all sex, they each have meaning, plot, characters, challenges.  This book is no exception to her wonderful work.  Another amazing read by Jaybee.’ Bunny Reviews 

***

Happy reading,

Kay x

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