Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Opening Lines: Digging Deep

Put your feet up, grab a cuppa, and enjoy the first 500 words from my recently updated #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!

FIRST FIVE HUNDRED WORDS…

Irritably adjusting her wide-brimmed hat for the third time in as many minutes, Dr Beth Andrews felt the sting of the African sun sear the back of her neck through the tresses of her long, ginger hair.

She never dreamt she’d miss the stubborn, muddy clay of the British earth she was used to hunting through in her search for archaeological data, but the uncooperatively fine white sand of North Africa was enough to try the patience of a saint.

Throwing down her brush in overheated exasperation, Beth thought fondly of her excavation trowel. Her tool of choice had been rendered obsolete in the face of so much sand. A job that was, by necessity, slow was reduced to a snail’s pace as the metre by metre square of the Roman bath house site in which she worked backfilled in on itself with every sweep of her light bristled brush.

It had been a dream come true for Beth when she’d been selected to lead the University of Wales’s excavation team, digging the sprawling Ancient Roman city of Lepti Major on the outskirts of Sousse in Tunisia. The chance to uncover stunning mosaics and city roads that hadn’t been trodden for 1000 years was an opportunity she’d had no intention of letting pass by.

The fact she’d be sharing responsibility for the site with her archaeological hero, the unimaginatively named Dr Harrison Harris from Colorado, an American academic who’d been the subject of many of Beth’s private fantasies since she’d fallen in love with his work, not to mention the black and white photograph of him on the back cover of his books, in her first year as a student, was neither here nor there.

Flicking her gaze covertly towards Harrison, Beth tried to subdue the slight increase in her pulse rate by recalling what Linda, the site’s previous supervisor, had said about working in Africa’s extreme temperatures.

Scalding by day and freezing by night.

Linda had warned Beth that her freckle-spotted, sensitive flesh would loathe being fried during the day and frozen at night, just as much as her archaeological brain would relish the challenge of constructing a city from its remains.

Beth hated the fact that Linda had been right. She’d never been rendered so sweaty, not to mention so blotched with extra heat-induced freckles, in her life. There couldn’t have been a centimetre of her body that hadn’t got a fresh cluster of beige dots on it. After only a week under the sun, it was becoming a struggle to hold on to her generally calm approach to life, and Beth was finding that her temper, which rarely flared in the UK, was on a permanently short fuse.

What got to her most was that none of her colleagues seemed to be suffering at all. They were all happily tanning as they worked, and sleeping off their exhaustion with ease at night, when the temperatures plummeted, and she was too cold to nod off.

As her first…

***

If you want to find out what happens next, and feel not just the heat of the desert sun rise, you can buy Digging Deep from Amazon (all territories except the US and Canada), including Amazon.co.uk.

Happy reading!!

Kay xx

Opening Lines: Digging Deep

Put your feet up, grab a cuppa, and enjoy the first 500 words from my recently updated #eroticromane, Digging Deep.

Based (loosely!!!) on my own adventures as an archaeologist in searing hot Tunisia many years ago, this novella was immense fun to write.

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!

FIRST FIVE HUNDRED WORDS…

Irritably adjusting her wide-brimmed hat for the third time in as many minutes, Dr Beth Andrews felt the sting of the African sun sear the back of her neck through the tresses of her long, ginger hair.

She never dreamt she’d miss the stubborn, muddy clay of the British earth she was used to hunting through in her search for archaeological data, but the uncooperatively fine white sand of North Africa was enough to try the patience of a saint.

Throwing down her brush in overheated exasperation, Beth thought fondly of her excavation trowel. Her tool of choice had been rendered obsolete in the face of so much sand. A job that was, by necessity, slow was reduced to a snail’s pace as the metre by metre square of the Roman bath house site in which she worked backfilled in on itself with every sweep of her light bristled brush.

It had been a dream come true for Beth when she’d been selected to lead the University of Wales’s excavation team, digging the sprawling Ancient Roman city of Lepti Major on the outskirts of Sousse in Tunisia. The chance to uncover stunning mosaics and city roads that hadn’t been trodden for 1000 years was an opportunity she’d had no intention of letting pass by.

The fact she’d be sharing responsibility for the site with her archaeological hero, the unimaginatively named Dr Harrison Harris from Colorado, an American academic who’d been the subject of many of Beth’s private fantasies since she’d fallen in love with his work, not to mention the black and white photograph of him on the back cover of his books, in her first year as a student, was neither here nor there.

Flicking her gaze covertly towards Harrison, Beth tried to subdue the slight increase in her pulse rate by recalling what Linda, the site’s previous supervisor, had said about working in Africa’s extreme temperatures.

Scalding by day and freezing by night.

Linda had warned Beth that her freckle-spotted, sensitive flesh would loathe being fried during the day and frozen at night, just as much as her archaeological brain would relish the challenge of constructing a city from its remains.

Beth hated the fact that Linda had been right. She’d never been rendered so sweaty, not to mention so blotched with extra heat-induced freckles, in her life. There couldn’t have been a centimetre of her body that hadn’t got a fresh cluster of beige dots on it. After only a week under the sun, it was becoming a struggle to hold on to her generally calm approach to life, and Beth was finding that her temper, which rarely flared in the UK, was on a permanently short fuse.

What got to her most was that none of her colleagues seemed to be suffering at all. They were all happily tanning as they worked, and sleeping off their exhaustion with ease at night, when the temperatures plummeted, and she was too cold to nod off.

As her first…

***

If you want to find out what happens next, and feel not just the heat of the desert sun rise, you can buy Digging Deep from Amazon (all territories except the US and Canada), including Amazon.co.uk.

Happy reading!!

Kay xx

Opening Lines: Digging Deep

It’s been quite a while since I shared some ‘Opening Lines’ with you, so today I’m putting that right.

Put your feet up, grab a cuppa, and enjoy the first 500 words from my recently updated #eroticromane, Digging Deep.

Based (loosely!!!) on my own adventures as an archaeologist in searing hot Tunisia many years ago, this novella was immense fun to write.

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!

FIRST FIVE HUNDRED WORDS…

Irritably adjusting her wide-brimmed hat for the third time in as many minutes, Dr Beth Andrews felt the sting of the African sun sear the back of her neck through the tresses of her long, ginger hair.

She never dreamt she’d miss the stubborn, muddy clay of the British earth she was used to hunting through in her search for archaeological data, but the uncooperatively fine white sand of North Africa was enough to try the patience of a saint.

Throwing down her brush in overheated exasperation, Beth thought fondly of her excavation trowel. Her tool of choice had been rendered obsolete in the face of so much sand. A job that was, by necessity, slow was reduced to a snail’s pace as the metre by metre square of the Roman bath house site in which she worked backfilled in on itself with every sweep of her light bristled brush.

It had been a dream come true for Beth when she’d been selected to lead the University of Wales’s excavation team, digging the sprawling Ancient Roman city of Lepti Major on the outskirts of Sousse in Tunisia. The chance to uncover stunning mosaics and city roads that hadn’t been trodden for 1000 years was an opportunity she’d had no intention of letting pass by.

The fact she’d be sharing responsibility for the site with her archaeological hero, the unimaginatively named Dr Harrison Harris from Colorado, an American academic who’d been the subject of many of Beth’s private fantasies since she’d fallen in love with his work, not to mention the black and white photograph of him on the back cover of his books, in her first year as a student, was neither here nor there.

Flicking her gaze covertly towards Harrison, Beth tried to subdue the slight increase in her pulse rate by recalling what Linda, the site’s previous supervisor, had said about working in Africa’s extreme temperatures.

Scalding by day and freezing by night.

Linda had warned Beth that her freckle-spotted, sensitive flesh would loathe being fried during the day and frozen at night, just as much as her archaeological brain would relish the challenge of constructing a city from its remains.

Beth hated the fact that Linda had been right. She’d never been rendered so sweaty, not to mention so blotched with extra heat-induced freckles, in her life. There couldn’t have been a centimetre of her body that hadn’t got a fresh cluster of beige dots on it. After only a week under the sun, it was becoming a struggle to hold on to her generally calm approach to life, and Beth was finding that her temper, which rarely flared in the UK, was on a permanently short fuse.

What got to her most was that none of her colleagues seemed to be suffering at all. They were all happily tanning as they worked, and sleeping off their exhaustion with ease at night, when the temperatures plummeted, and she was too cold to nod off.

As her first…

***

If you want to find out what happens next, and feel not just the heat of the desert sun rise, you can buy Digging Deep from Amazon (all territories except the US and Canada), including Amazon.co.uk.

Happy reading!!

Kay xx

Tasty Taster: Christmas Kink

This week I thought I’d help nudge you towards a touch of festive spirit – Kay kink style!

#Christmas #kink

There is something special about a Christmas story, be it smutty or otherwise, and I just love writing them. Hence, I decided to write my festive story collection, Christmas Kink. It was tricky wondering what seasonal happenings I could twist into a toe curlingly sexy tales.

What could I possibly write about…how about a naughty fairy, a Christmas stable, cake mix, a little red dress, a great deal of tinsel, and a sexy winter woodland adventure…?

Here’s a little taster from If You Go Down To The Woods Tonight…

…Standing silently in the bitter December night air, Freya felt her blood pump in time to the echo of a female orgasm that was whispering through the frost-covered trees. She didn’t want to ask Liam how he knew about this place.

Grasping her hand, Liam pulled Freya deeper into the woods, towards the background beat of howls. Weaving through a mix of pine, oak and ash trees, they scrambled halfway up a steep bank and stopped dead.

Freya stole a glance at her boyfriend’s face, and saw an expression etched with the basest desire she’d ever witnessed.

Now they were closer, the noise that had sounded like the muted cry of wolves felt more ethereal than animal as it sang through the treetops around them. Even though she’d seen nothing yet, Freya’s imagination had done an excellent job of filling in the blanks. She could easily visualise the images that went with the sound of a woman sighing, masculine grunting, and the overriding cacophony of groans, yelps and pleading coming from the other side of the bank. It was as if all the erotic want in the world was bubbling before them in an audible cauldron of lust.

Two nights ago, tied to Liam’s bed and having just enjoyed a thorough fucking, Freya had laughed when he’d informed her he had arranged a very special Christmas present for her. Liam claimed he’d secured her the chance to fulfil every filthy, sexy, dirty, and dangerous fantasy she’d ever had. Freya had thought he was just saying that to turn her on further. She hadn’t taken his claim seriously for a single moment. Until now…

Speaking hurriedly under his breath, Liam said, ‘Okay, so the sounds you can hear are coming from the members of The Quarter, and these are their rules. If you stay on the bank, no one will touch you. You can be a voyeur to your heart’s content, but if you go over the bank and walk amongst them, you are fair game.’

Freya frowned. ‘The Quarter?’

‘They are a specialist group that meet here once each season. This is their Christmas gathering.’

Freya said nothing as she glanced towards Liam’s crotch. His erection was trying to break out of his trousers. She thought fast. If they walked three paces up the side of the bank, they’d be able to view the bacchanal activities below. If they took another three paces further down the other side, then they’d have no choice but to join in.

The shine to Liam’s eyes told Freya that if she decided not to step down into the oval area, which had once been a small hillfort, then he’d fall on her there and then. An option which Freya knew would be good—more than good—but the mews of simmering arousal coming from below were taunting her; enticing her onwards, and driving her further up the bank, pulling Liam after her.

With her heart hammering, excited apprehension gripped Freya as she stood on the very top of the grassy slope…”

You can find out what happens next, and enjoy the five other kinky festive capers in Christmas Kink by buying it from –

Smashwords- https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/933339

Happy reading

Kay xx

Restrained

Restrained

#ad #restraint #erotica #exploration #Lovehoney #kinkyplay #sextoys #fun

One of the joys of writing erotica, is exploring – via my characters – the limits of sexual pleasure to which I can send each of my fictional individuals.

Over the years I have created my own voyeuristic window into an erotic world of fantasy and pleasure. To create the #bdsm, #sub #dom stories I’m best known for, I’ve largely relied on my imagination, but every now and then – as with any work of fiction – research is required.

This research has come in many forms over the years – talking to others about their experiences – reading up on the subject of domination and submission – and, of course, turning to the fabulous world of sex toys – in particular, toys that deal with restraint, such as leg spreader bars.

When it comes to writing erotica that centres around the submissive/dominant dynamic, I have always been fascinated with the concept of voluntary capture. There is something intrinsically sexy about one human being having so much trust and confidence in another, that they will allow themselves to be bound, making their ability to move limited, or immobilising them completely.

Consensual bondage can bring intense sexual pleasure. For the submissive within the erotic play, there is the anticipation and adrenalin rush from not having control – from not knowing what their partner will do next – of wondering how they will treat them on the road to climax.

For the person in control, there is the high of deciding how to pleasure their willing partner, of both hearing and seeing them succumb to desire, while the act of pleasing their submissive will, in turn, afford them a rush of sexual satisfaction. In a world when we are constantly having to make decisions, it is a heady/addictive feeling to have all responsibility taken away from us in a restrained/submissive capacity. It opens our minds and focuses our whole bodies on the pursuit of pleasure – each touch, each sound, each anticipation of what might happen next.

It is for this reason – the combination of trust and the pushing of a person’s sexual limits – that I like to write stories centring around restraint. Whether in a long-term loving relationship, or within a situation where the premise of the story is for one character to push the limits of another who (willingly) wishes to see how far they can go, the use of restraints – whether it’s ropes, cuffs or even a spreader – the results are always plot spinning. And what’s more – they are plotlines that my readers can safely replicate, and enjoy, at home with just a few careful purchases.

Photograph courtesy of Lovehoney

As I said above, when researching for such moments of fiction, I use sex toys and equipment to help me. When writing a recent story (yet to be published), featuring the use of a leg spreader bar, I turned to Lovehoney for help. Prior to including the use of a spreader in the tale, I wanted to make sure I had the feel of the thing correct – to know how to use one – how heavy they are, and – of course – what it feels like to wear.

***

The story I’m writing is very much a work in progress – here’s a little extract for you…

Spread (A work in progress by Kay Jaybee)

Max lifted the leather-bound diary from the desk. Making sure he could see her eyes; he flicked through the pages until he found the entry from the night before.

Tuesday 2nd May.’

A soft muffled groan came from the woman seated on the chair before him.

‘What was that Sub? A happy memory or just sheer frustration at your situation?’

Leaning forward, Max adjusted the silk knickers that he’d wedged between her lips only two minutes before.

‘Don’t you worry. If you’ve been a good girl and written nice things about the lovely surprise I gave you last night, then you’ll get to play with it again. If not – well, you’ll get to watch me play with it with one of our friends. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’

This time the sound from the gag was halfway between a purr and a pleading mewl.

‘Despair or desire? I never know which emotion you wish to portray when you’re so beautifully arranged.’ Max kissed her forehead. ‘I don’t think you know yourself sometimes, little Sub.

‘So, where was I? Ah yes, last night. Let’s read what you had to say for yourself.’

Sitting on his usual wing-back armchair, Max stretched his legs out towards her, his feet almost, but not quite meeting hers as she sat, naked, on a small round cushion on a metal kitchen chair. Her hands were secured to its arms with bondage cuffs, while her ankles were secured to each of its front legs with two of her master’s neckties.

Dear diary, Sir was very pleased with me, so he bought me a gift.

            ‘I was excited, but also nervous. Sir had told me that it would be something we’d both enjoy, that it would help towards my training as his submissive, that it was a treat for being so good when his friends came to play with me, and that – should I hate it and not want to play- or leave the game at any time, then I should say the safe word he picked for the evening – Zebra.

Max paused, his gaze coming to rest on her rock-hard nipples. ‘You even wrote the safe word down – good girl. Sensible to have a word that can’t be mistaken for anything else.’ Thoughtful for a second, he opened a drawer in the desk next to him. ‘Those nipples look desperate. Here.’

Her eyes widened in pleasure as he slid of his chair, onto his knees. Shuffling a pace closer, his mouth came to her left breast, his teeth grazing her nipple, before he abruptly sucked hard, making her gasp into her underwear as her pussy gave an involuntary twitch.

She was just relaxing into the warm sensations that flooded her breast, when Max pulled back and clipped on a cold metal clamp. His sub’s gasps of pleasure morphed into a sharp intake of air; the shock of the firm clamp as it squeezed her sensitive damp tip, sending a second layer of pleasure – a darker one – riding on the back of the first.

She tried to stay relaxed, not to tense in readiness for the treatment she knew was about to follow on her right side, but as ever she failed, and that inability to stay calm, only went to enflame her further – just as her Sir knew it would.

‘There.’ Taking a step back, Max ran a practised eye over his partner. ‘Beautiful, and I bet you feel good too, don’t you?’

A muffled, ‘Yes Sir’ came from between her lips and the purple knicker gag.

‘Now then.’ He sat back down, ‘where was I? Ah yes…The gift was a spreader. Until now, Sir has always tied me to a chair or the end of the bed. We’re talked about getting a spreader before, but never have. Just looking at it – thinking of the possibilities -of what Sir might do to me while my legs were cuffed into each end…I could only imagine. Although, I didn’t have to imagine for long.

‘My word, it is a thing of beauty.

Max stopped reading, ‘It is a thing of beauty – like you, my Sub.’

Lowering himself off the chair again, he sat on the floor before her and, the diary still open before him, reached a hand to her open, tethered legs, and caressed a single finger over and around her clit, enjoying the feel of the moisture he found gathering there as he read on.

I was tied to my chair while Sir showed me my gift. I must confess, dear diary, that I drooled into my ball gag as I watched the large box being opened and three long metal rods coming out, two of which had fur cuffs attached to the end. Sir told me to pay careful attention to how the spreader was put together. It was difficult to obey, for although my eyes were not shielded by a blindfold, and the room was light, the wand Sir had taped between my thighs had been fixed on a low setting – and had been buzzing over my clit for almost five minutes. Without Sir’s permission to cum, I was fighting hard to obey him and not climax – while watching all he showed me….

Max pushed a finger up inside his Sub, making her whimper with need. ‘You’re close now aren’t you, I can hear it in your breathing. You can cum once I’ve finished reading, yes Sub?’

‘Uh, huh, Sir’

‘Good Sub.’ Max kept one finger lazily pumping in and out of her as he went on. ‘…There were three metal tubes in the packaging, which were to be fixed together to form the spreader. As I’m quite short, Sir was kind, and didn’t fix the metal rods together at their widest setting, but even so, I could see that, once the faux fur cuffs were in place around my ankles then I’d be spread very wide open – available for anything…ANYTHING Sir wished.

            ‘As I write this, sweat is gathering under my breasts, and my nipples are aching – not from the delicious flogging they had while I was spreadeagled on the living room floor, ankles cuffed, legs immobile thanks to my gift, but from the thought of what Sir might do to me next time I’m spread like that.

I knew Sir would treat me kindly, but even so, I hadn’t imagined what a difference the unyielding nature of the metal poles would be like – how at his mercy I’d be …and how much I’d love it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet…

I will leave you here so that I can continue with drafting this spreader inspired story.

Happy reading and playing everyone,

Kay xx

 

 

 

 

 

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