Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Something for the Weekend: Yes Ma’am

For this week’s #somethingfortheweekend, I’m treating you to some #femdom action from Yes Ma’am.

Blurb

Could you write your wildest fantasies on your best friend’s boyfriend, or sell your sexual soul to a woman in black?

Find out how far army cadet, Luke Porter, will go to improve his standing within his regiment, and discover the consequences of losing your temper on London’s Underground in this collection of wrist binding, whip wielding, butt spanking tales of female domination.

Yes Ma’am contains six straight and bi-sexual encounters of the S&M nature.

The six stories, each taking a different take on the FemDom experience, are…

Lying in Wait– Cadet Luke Porter is the least successful army recruit in the squadron. His female counterparts are determined to find out how far Luke will go to improve his standing within the regiment…

Black – He is intoxicated by the woman in black. He can’t explain why he needs to see her or why he willing does precisely what she tells him to…

Dear Claire – Ali has secretly lusted over her best friend’s lover Rick, for a long time. At least, she thought it was a secret…

“Don’t You Emma” – Sitting in an armchair has never been so difficult…

Not Taking the Tube – Venting his frustration at being delayed yet again by London’s Underground system on the nearest official, the harassed businessman finds his complaints aren’t received in quite the way he’d expected…

Rachel’s Twisted Tale – Rapunzel never suffered like this….

***

Here’s an extract from “Don’t You Emma.”

… Lee sat back in the leather armchair. She’d told him that all he had to do to get a damn good fucking was to stay in the chair until she decreed otherwise.

As he watched Daisy move around the living room Lee thought, not for the first time, how inappropriately named she was. The name suggested someone meek, gentle and childlike. It didn’t conjure the image of a tall, fit, fake blonde, who could get her rocks off simply by beating your arse until it glowed purple.

She was clearing the space in front of him. The coffee table had already been repositioned to the side of the chair, and the newspapers that usually lay all over the place had been stacked up. All the cushions he’d thrown off the sofa had been neatly placed back where they belonged.

‘You are going to reward me for watching you clean up?’ Lee was amused by this uncharacteristic fit of tidying.

Daisy gave him a stare that would have chilled a lesser man to the bone, but Lee had known her for a long time and all it did was increase the arousal of her promise to give him a good seeing-to.

‘I don’t believe I said you could talk to me while you were waiting.’

‘Come off it, Daisy. You’re only doing the chores.’

Ignoring him, his partner brushed her hands together, and glancing at the increased floor space across the now uncluttered pale green carpet, left the room.

Lee’s imagination had already moved on to what reward he was going to get for being a good, patient boy. He wondered if he’d have to endure a spanking, or if she’d bind or gag him. Flickers of tense longing played in his stomach and stirred his groin.

Glancing at the clock on the corner of the bookcase, he listened to the quiet tick. It seemed to fill the room as he waited with growing impatience for Daisy’s return. He assumed she was fetching her sex toys, or perhaps changing into something less comfortable. It was with a sense of a surprise and unease, however, that Lee heard the front door open and the sound of muffled voices.

Despite only wearing a red T-shirt and some lightweight black combats, Lee suddenly felt rather hot as Daisy re-entered the lounge with company.

The warning glint in Daisy’s eyes confirmed that Lee should stay precisely where he was, his legs outstretched before him, his arms resting on the chair’s soft padded arms, his mouth shut.

His dark brown eyes moved from his lover to the girl with her. About 25 years old perhaps, with long ginger hair that hung in two perfectly tied pigtails. Slim, but with enough of a curve to catch the eye, her green gaze had a keen, eager to please gleam, that just hinted at mischief.

Lee swallowed very carefully. Daisy hadn’t, had she? Not really? He opened his mouth to ask her if he was right, or if his imagination was running away with him. No sound came out though. He didn’t want to risk her saying he was mistaken and ruining the fantasy that roller-coasted around his lust driven head.

The girl, without taking off either the boots or the long winter coat she wore, even though it was a warm summer’s day, answered his unspoken question, as she lowered her head and knelt on the cleared floor before Daisy; her mistress.

‘Oh my!’ His words were barely audible. Daisy either hadn’t heard them or had dismissed them as unimportant. Lee concentrated very hard on breathing; forcing himself to sit still and not lean forward in the chair…

***

You can find out what happened next within the epages of Yes Ma’am via…

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

***

Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the weekend: A Kink A Day Book One

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: A Kink a Day Book Two

The first #weekend of a fresh year is upon us ! (Although all the days are blurring into one here). 

 #somethingfortheweekend this time, comes from a story within my sexy anthology,  A Kink a Day Book Two 

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

Blurb:

From the kinky activities of an obligingly dirty girl, to an unorthodox game of snooker; a battle with both extreme heat and cold, and some delicious cafe-time action, A Kink a Day Book Two 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.

Here’s a taster from Dirty Girl…

‘Do you think we look anywhere near that good when we shag?’ Ryan asked, pressing the “pause” button on the DVD to highlight a man and a woman fucking each other uncontrollably against a fridge.

‘Better.’ She looked him straight in the eye.

‘Better?’ his mouth twitched. ‘Always the dirty girl.’

‘Would I be sat watching porn with you if I wasn’t?’ Beth slowly undid her blouse and revealed her naked tits. ‘Whatever would Gary say?’

‘Gary understands. Trust me.’

Beth laughed as she began to stroke her coffee-coloured nipples. ‘I’m not sure trusting you has ever been a sensible option.’

‘True.’ Ryan smiled mischievously, his eyes fixed firmly on her chest.

He watched as she flattened her breasts with her palms, kneading them vigorously.

Her eyes had closed. ‘Bad, dirty and very, very naughty, that’s me.’

Ryan pulled her towards him. He brushed her hands out of the way and began to flick his tongue around her breasts. Beth grinned down at him with satisfaction, watching his expert tongue working its magic on her sensitive skin.

The ring of the front door bell echoed through the room. Beth scowled in the direction of the hall. ‘Shit; who’s that?’

Ryan pulled away. ‘Stay there, dirty girl. I’ll be two minutes.’

Beth helped herself to another glass of wine as she enjoyed the spectacle on the television; two women were now prowling round on all fours. She could hear Ryan moving about upstairs. ‘Everything OK?’ she shouted.

‘Fine, won’t be a minute.’

He bounded downstairs again a few minutes later looking flushed and determined, carrying a canvas bag which he put down by the sofa. ‘Now, let me ask you a question, dirty girl; what do you prefer? Me sucking your tits, or actually seeing me suck your tits?’

‘Both. But I guess I get a kick out of watching you work on me. It adds a certain something.’ …

AVAILABLE FROM…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords  – currenlt y with 60% discount!!!!

Happy reading!

Kay xx

Something for the Weekend: Not Her Type at Christmas

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

Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Three

Heavy week at work? Why not sit down (lie down?) and enjoy a moment’s full on kink.

This week I thought I’d share a little from

A Kink a Day – Book Three for #somethingfortheweekend 

 

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.

On Show

As the first of the ties was attached to her ankles, Pippa still wasn’t sure what had broken inside her.

The moment she’d walked through the door to work that evening and seen the spreader board waiting for its next customer, her iron will had caved in. Now, as her body was pushed against the cold wood, it felt more alive than ever before.

Her mind, however, was in terrified freefall. She was about to become part of the image that haunted her, the one that gave her sleepless nights and erotic dreams, that featured so strongly in her head whenever she was having sex; the one she was afraid of, and so utterly and totally turned on by.

The jeering from the crowd which had gathered around Pippa petered into a reverend hush. She could see a queue forming out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t dare look directly at it. All she could concentrate on was the warm nimble male hands that’d smoothed her skin as they’d stripped her, and were now securing the last of her limbs to the portable x-shaped board, which had been wheeled into the centre of the room.

With her ankles and wrists encased in short metal chains, locked with little room to manoeuvre against the heavy oak frame, Pippa felt vulnerable, sexy, excited, and petrified all at once.

 

Keeping her green eyes lowered, she moved her wrists a fraction, testing the bonds. Her long ginger hair fell over her eyes. Being unable to sweep it back from her face abruptly bought home just how helpless she was, and her already fast pulse tripled its pace in tense anticipation of what was going to happen to her over the following hour.

The only way to escape from the spreader was to say the password that had been whispered to her when the confinement began. She’d never heard anyone use the escape password, and she was determined not to be the first to wimp out despite the panic swirling in her gut. Pippa kept reminding herself how badly she needed to know what it was like to be the subject of so much erotic attention. She couldn’t see any other way of ending the dreams that plagued her night after night and day after day…

****

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

Don’t forget you can find all four books from the series here – https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/35498

Happy reading

Kay xx

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