Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

Tag: Tasty Tasters

Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters Day 14: Kay Jaybee

I don’t know about you, but for this past fortnight has just flown by! I hope you aren’t too full of tasty treats to miss out on my last offering of the series.

Today I’m sharing a complete story with you from my very first solo book, The Collector. A collection of 21 stories, each very different, it was designed to be a menu for those who wanted to sample new elements of the erotica genre. Enjoy!



The Collector sits silently alone, engrossed in her tales of lust, submission and dominance. Has she already engraved your erotic exploits on her salacious list?

She may look like she is scribbling randomly in her notebook, but she is secretly listening to, and recording, the overheard fantasies and indiscretions of others.

Forever hungry for stories, when The Collector’s sources run dry, her appetite for tales of instruction and voyeurism drives her to do some research of her own before sharing her provocative experiments on paper.

It is time for the world’s raunchiest chronicler to come to light.


Here’s an extract from The Collector to whet your appetite…

Chapter Fifteen

Some years ago, when I was still respectable, I went to university. Whilst I was there, I made the best friends I’ve ever had, one of whom is still heavily embroiled in student life. Over the past ten years Jack has worked his way from one degree to another, determined to put off entering the “real world” for as long as possible.

Recently we had one of our regular coffee trips together, to catch up on all the gossip. One look at Jack, a broad smile plastered across his face, his deep blue eyes twinkling as he sipped his coffee, and I knew he had a story to tell. Being one of my greatest supporters, he was more than willing to help me note down his adventure.


The general din from the concert behind me had reached such a level of confusion that hand signals were now the only possible means of communication. As I slowly inched closer to the bar I began to wonder how on earth I’d get our drinks back through the heaving mass of people.

Thankful that I wasn’t claustrophobic, I slowly shuffled along with the crowd. I could still move my arms but, otherwise I was almost totally immobilised. For some unseen reason we had all come to a complete full stop. Being above average height gave me the advantage of spotting potential “sliding into gaps” opportunities, but eventually I had to accept that I was going nowhere fast, and was destined to remain thirsty for sometime.

I looked around at my temporary colleagues. Apart from hair colour, and a stab at gender, I couldn’t really tell you much about the people who were standing so close to me that we knew what the sides of each others legs felt like.

My mind started to wander. A thirty or so deep crowd of people, all piling in one direction – what were they all thinking? How many pockets had been picked? How many people were accidentally on purpose feeling up the person in front of them?

I began to imagine how I’d react if a strange pair of hands started to stroke my arse as I stood there, unable to move, my protests going unheard.  My hands began to itch as I turned my attention to the person directly in front of me. Female, above average height, red hair in tidy bunches, short skirt; older than eighteen I guessed, perhaps younger than twenty five.

I was so close to her that as I looked down I had an excellent view of the top of her head. My crotch was already lightly rubbing against her flimsy skirted rear, and the urge to put my hands over her shoulders and slide them down onto her breasts (which my imagination had decided would be both full and firm), was overwhelming.


I still can’t believe I did it. What if she’d screamed? I’d have been arrested for sure, if anyone should have had heard her.

I would like to be able to say I’d been tentative and gentle; testing the water. But I was straight on, squeezing her tits hard (which were actually small, but beautifully tight). I felt her body stiffen as her attempts to instantly turn around were inhibited by the general crush. I tensed, expecting a slap across my kneading digits. It didn’t come. Instead her body shuffled within its confined space, her own hands slipping behind her and flipping up her short skirt to reveal a pair of neat pale buttocks encased in creamy lace knickers, which she pushed against my hard confined dick.

I must confess to a moments panic then. What if we were spotted? Her intentions were obviously as impure as my own. I took a deep breath to calm myself; there was no way any extra pushing could be viewed as odd. For all I knew the entire crowd could have been at it. The only person who may have been more suspicious than the rest was the guy behind me. As I pulled back slightly from this amazing girl, I could feel his cock was also hard. Or was I simply imagining it?

Wriggling one hand down between her arse and my denims,’ I undid my flies and freed my cock. She must have known what I was doing as she instantly pressed back harder, standing on her toes to feel my length better against her buttocks.

I eased the delicate lace knickers to one side and rubbed myself against her rounded flesh. Her hands snaked around behind her and she grabbed my tip with expert fingers. I tried to suppress a groan, but failed, and anxiously looked around at the still oblivious crowd, as her fingers grasped the end of my shaft.

I have no idea how I kept such an impassive expression on my face. A total stranger was wanking me against her bum, and my head was full of the picture we must be creating. What’s more, each time she forced me back fractionally I brushed against the anonymous guy behind me. I swear he was getting harder all the time and I longed to be able to include him in our secret sex.

I guess I became reckless then, because as she smoothed my dick I began to push back harder. All the time I was waiting to be found out, waiting for a cry of protest. None came.

Grateful of her perfect height, I slipped a hand down as far as I could, feeling between her legs, fingering her slippery wetness. Perhaps she was wearing high heels, I couldn’t tell.

I knew I couldn’t hang on much longer. Sandwiched between this horny girl and a hard man, I thought I’d explode with the thought of the situation alone. Knocking her hand away, I notched my shaft against her and pushed into her dampness. Biting my tongue to conceal the noise rising in my throat, I eased into her; each time making sure the guy behind knew exactly what was happening. I longed for him to put a hand around me, to feel for himself how well my cock fitted inside this willing woman. He didn’t, but the idea of it was the final straw in this delicious situation, and I quickly filled her with my come.

As I pulled out (not easy in the limited space), I could just see the first trickle of my liquid as it began to run down her legs, before she daintily pulled her knickers back into place and recovered herself with the little green skirt.

The crowd had hardly moved. I don’t suppose the whole thing had taken more than five minutes, but it sure made waiting for that pint a whole lot more interesting.

I hadn’t really thought about the people to the side of us; I am still not sure whether they knew what had happened or not; if they did, no one said anything.

When I finally did reach the bar, the girl had long since been lost in the crush ahead of me, but a friendly voice from behind offered to buy me a drink, and quietly thanked me for making his wait in the queue so enjoyable.


The Collector can be purchased as an ebook or in paperback from all good retailers including-

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Collector-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1849633517/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239556&sr=1-1

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Collector-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1905609191/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239810&sr=1-1&keywords=the+collector+kay+jaybee


So here we are then- at the end of this years tasters. I hope you have enjoyed delving into the erotic past of myself and my literary friends. It’s been great fun sharing all the tasters with- look out for Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters again next year!!!

Happy Reading,

Kay xx



Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters Day 12: Justine Elyot

The days are just zipping away! We have reached  Day 12 of our dip into the archives of erotica, and I’m delighted to welcome one of the best in the business. It’s Justine Elyot!

Over to you Justine…

Hello, and thanks to Kay for giving us all the opportunity to wax nostalgic (sounds like a kinky bedroom practice, doesn’t it?). Summer holidays are still hanging on in there – just about – so I’ve decided to wax nostalgic about a little traveller’s tale of mine. Originally entitled Hungarian Rhapsody and written for Xcite’s Secret Library range, it’s since been repackaged as a Cariad Single Romance called Bewitched in Budapest. By any name, I loved writing this tale of a linguistically-challenged romance between a once-bitten-twice-shy Brit girl and her handsome Hungarian suitor.

Justine cover

Here’s how it opens:

“On my first night in Budapest, I woke up to find a strange man in my bed.

Now, while the decision to come here had been taken so rapidly that I hadn’t had time to do any research on the place and had little idea of what to expect, I was fairly sure this wasn’t normal. I’d had vague notions of goulash, gypsy violinists and splendid nineteenth century architecture. A strange man in my bed, not so much.

In the low dawn light filtering through the ill-fitting shutters, I turned my head fractionally – afraid of waking him – and tried to discern the contours of his head and upper body. Judging by the shape beneath the covers and the feet sticking out of the bottom, he was tall and well-built. His face in repose was peaceful and rather touching, but in a more animated state I could imagine it being proud and even fierce, or perhaps I was just projecting my own prejudices about men with large moustaches. Moustaches like that always seemed to come with a bayonet, in my mind. The full lips below the thicket blew out brief whistles of air whenever he exhaled. He had long eyelashes and thick, dark hair. Like most of the Hungarian men I’d spotted between the airport and the apartment, he was a looker.

But what the hell was he doing here?

Carefully, with infinite precision, I edged my body away from him. The heel of my left foot found the place where the mattress ended and my toes flexed, looking for the floor. Just at the moment I tried to pivot my hips away, he flung an arm across my chest. His arm was very heavy and I abandoned all my efforts to handle this situation calmly and screamed.

He grunted and muttered something completely incomprehensible and then his eyelids fluttered and I did my best to scramble away but that arm was just a dead weight, so I kicked him hard in the shin and tried to bite him.

That woke him up.”

Talk about getting the characters into bed early! But the mysterious stranger is soon doing more than snoring… Let the outline give you an idea.

” Ruby had no idea what to expect from her trip to Budapest, but a strange man in her bed on her first night probably wasn’t it. Once the mistake is ironed out, though, and introductions made, she finds herself strangely drawn to the handsome Hungarian, despite her vow of holiday celibacy. Does Janos have what it takes to break her resolve and discover the secrets she is hiding, or will she be able to resist his increasingly wild seduction tactics? Against the romantic backdrop of a city made for lovers, personalities clash. They also bump. And grind.”

If that’s piqued your interest, here’s the Amazon link: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Bewitched-Budapest-Cariad-Singles-Book-ebook/dp/B00L4B5WF2/ref=sr_1_97?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1439669746&sr=1-97&keywords=justine+elyot

Thanks for reading!


Many thanks Justine!

Make sure you don’t miss the last two days of my Tasty Taster series over the weekend!

Happy reading,

Kay xx 

Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters Day 8: Ruby Madsen

It’s Week 2 of my Two Weeks of Tasty Taster’s series! An annual dip into the erotica archive of some of my favourite erotica authors. Today it’s the turn of my wonderful fellow Brit Babe, Ruby Madsen, aka, Lexie Bay, who is sharing a morsel from her short story “Eat Me” from “More Smut for Chocoholics”

What better for a Monday morning than to kick start the week with some chocolate?

Over to you Ruby…

Blurb for the Book

More Smut for Chocoholics is all about over-indulgence, taking wicked delight in the erotic consumption and use of chocolate, with tales from some of erotica’s finest authors… Whatever your relationship with the seductive cocoa, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. More Smut for Chocoholics contains tales from Tilly Hunter, Victoria Blisse, Aurelia T Evans, Lucy Felthouse, Ruby Madsen, Jacqueline Brocker, Vanessa de Sade, Wendi Zwaduk, Jillian Boyd, Nicole Gestalt, Slave Nano, Annabeth Leong and Anna Sky.

More Smut For Chocoholics

Blurb for the Story

Chocolates, cocoa coloured underwear, restraints and the heady scent of sex. When Dan brings home a treat, things get messy in and out of the bedroom…



He places the box in front of me and gestures for me to open it. I sit forward so that he can appreciate my legs and cleavage as I do so, then I pull the box towards me and slowly open the lid. I gasp. Inside is a huge piece of chocolate cake. Not just any chocolate cake though, this cake is legendary. I have wanted to taste this cake since I was a child. I remember telling him about it when we first got together and it makes my heart burst that he remembered.

“How did you get this?” I ask. “You can only get this in America!”

“For you baby I can do anything.”

I look up at him, my eyes shining and see that he is hard again. He’s hard because he bought me cake. I’m confused but I like it. I dip my finger into the soft fudge topping drawing it through it until my finger is coated. I lift it to my lips and with my eyes fixed on his I slowly suck the creamy confection off it.

“Don’t tease me,” he growls. “Take off that blanket and spread your legs.”

I do as I am told and he sits down opposite me.

“I want to watch you eat it.”

I look up at him, the raw desire in his voice making my eyes wide. I go to get up to fetch a fork but he barks at me to sit back down.

“I want you to eat it with your hands and I want you to make it messy. Enjoy it, savour the flavour. I want to see the pleasure on your face.”

I look at the huge piece of cake and try to mentally calculate the calories. He sees me hesitate and looks menacingly at me.

“Baby, you don’t need to give a shit how many calories are in that damn slice, because by the time you’ve finished eating it I can guarantee you I will be ready to fuck every single last one of them off of you.”

I giggle and with a sigh of pleasure I pull off a chunk of the sticky sweetness and pop it into my mouth.

“Oh God! That is unbelievably good,” I mumble, my mouth full of cake. A smudge of chocolate fudge topping smears the corner of my mouth and sticks to my lip. I go to wipe it off but Dan stops me, gripping my wrist so tightly it burns.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, “it looks sexy. I want to see it smeared all over your face.”

My heart beats faster, as I remember the last time he wanted to see something smeared all over my face.

I pick up another chunk, my fingers sticky with the thick chocolate sauce that is laced throughout the slice. I slide it into my mouth, making sure that it smears on my lips. The sponge is moist and light; the layers stuck together with a creamy whipped mousse and throughout it there are chunks of milk and dark chocolate which melt in my mouth. I close my eyes and enjoy the myriad of different textures and flavours. My hand rests on my thigh and leaves a trail of chocolaty fingerprints. Opening my eyes I catch him looking at the gap between my basque and my stockings. I know he is imagining licking the trail of chocolate and I smear it again, higher up my leg and towards my glistening pussy. His cock has escaped from his clothes and I want to suck it, to smear it in chocolate frosting and lick it off. I take a handful of cake and bury my face in it, ensuring that I get it all over me. Then I suck it off my fingers as though I was sucking his cock.

“Baby, there is nothing hotter than watching a curvy girl eat cake,” he moans, “but now I need your lips around my cock. Fuck, sweetheart you are so adorably sexy.”

Without hesitation I drop to my knees in front of him, my sticky hands wrapping around his hot, thick shaft. The sharp intake of breath that this causes in him is enough to make my pussy flood again and I swear I must be dripping on the soft rug that I’m kneeling on.

I swirl my finger through the cake topping again and smear it over his cock. His skin is so warm it starts to melt almost immediately.

“Suck it,” he demands and I do as I’m told. I dip my head and envelope him with my mouth, the sweet taste of the chocolate mixing with the salty pre-cum that is leaking from his rosy tip. My nostrils are filled with a heady mix of sweet chocolate and the deep musky scent of his body. I could suck him forever, the velvet smoothness of his cock enhanced by the sweet mousse of the cake. A whimper escapes my lips as he pulls my hair, pulling me off of him then grabbing another soft piece of cake which he pushes into my mouth. The flavour explodes and then he thrusts inside me again. I almost gag but he has been careful, and instead I take him all the way in, letting the chocolate melt around his heat. I pull back and swirl my tongue over the tip, enjoying the feel of his fingers in my hair as he tugs, trying to pull me back down onto him. I resist, enjoying teasing him, knowing I can push him a little way before he will discipline me. He likes the tease as much as I do.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says a smile on his lips that makes my heart melt, “and don’t think I won’t punish you for it later.”

Buy Links



Ruby lexie


Ruby Madsen is the living embodiment of Lexie Bay’s dark side. She loves to explore the dangerous things in life, prefers the wilder side of romance and firmly believes that being naughty is more fun.

Ruby has a dirty laugh and, she’s been told, an even dirtier mind. She’s a stocking wearing, chain smoking tease with a fondness for red lipstick and bad boys and she wishes she’d been born in the 1950s when men were men and women were pin ups.

She’s currently working on something dark and sexy and you can expect lots of kinky games, raw emotions and not so much of the happily ever after, because sometimes life’s just mean and your heart gets broken. Although Ruby likes to believe that there’s always something round the corner…

You can get naughty with Ruby on Facebook and Twitter




Delicious, I’m not sure what I need most now, chocolate, or…. Anyway!

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow when one of the queen’s of erotica will be amongst us- the ultra-talented, Janine Ashbless.

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters Day 6: Kay Jaybee

Welcome to Day 6 of my Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters blog series!

Today I am bringing you half of a long story from my Fem Dom anthology Yes Ma’am.

This collection is what many think of as pure Kay Jaybee – that is to say – the six stories within Yes Ma’am are of the S&M/BDSM genre. As you can imagine, it was tremendous fun to write…

Yes Ma'am 2015

Here’s a bit of an appetite whetter from the tale entitled Dear Claire….

Dear Claire

She was sure they were having sex. The tell tale bumps and thumps, not to mention the heavy duty groans coming through the thin bedroom walls, had been driving Ali mad for at least half an hour.

Having been invited by Claire for a girlie chat and sleepover, Ali was incensed that Rick had crashed their private party before it had even got started. It doesn’t help, Ali thought as she gave up trying to drown out the muted sounds from the neighbouring room with her pillow, that I’ve had the serious hots for my best friends’ partner for months now.

Escaping to the bathroom, Ali took her time getting showered and dressed. She was surprised to find that when she headed into the kitchen twenty minutes later, Claire was already there, fully dressed, and slipping on her coat and shoes.

‘I’m popping out to grab some stuff for breakfast. Could you be an angel and take Rick a coffee in bed?’

Without giving Ali time to reply, Claire disappeared into the early morning drizzle, leaving her friend with her palm frozen on top of the kettle. The last thing she needed was to see Rick all relaxed and rumpled from sex in someone else’s bed.

Rather than sorting the coffee, Ali left the kitchen, and banged hard on Claire’s bedroom door, ‘The coffee will be in the kitchen Rick.’

Ali hadn’t expected much more than a grunted reply. After all, Rick wasn’t one of life’s communicators. Even Claire agreed that he was only really useful for sex and unscrewing particularly tight jar lids. Yet, the silence from beyond the door was almost eerie. There should have at least been the muffled noises of him shuffling about the bed, or moving around the room hunting down his socks.

A ripple of uncertainty shot through Ali as she stood there. Claire had told her to take the coffee in to him, and now she thought about it, the request had been rather definite. Almost an order. With a final call of, ‘Rick! Do you want coffee?’ Ali inched the door ajar as she repeated her knock.

The reason for Rick’s lack of response was immediately apparent. Ali’s mouth slammed shut. She didn’t know where to look first. All she could think, as she hovered immobilised in the doorway, her eyes roaming with pussy clenching leisure over Rick’s tied frame, was that Claire had intended her to find him like this. She evidently had more in common with her friend than she’d previously thought.

Rick was stood side on to the end of the bed; his legs positioned about half a metre apart. A solid metal shackle, fastened to the leg of the bed frame, surrounded and connected each ankle. He was effectively pinioned to the spot.

His arms were secured behind his back with a pair of leather cuffs, and his dangerous brown eyes were hidden beneath a heavily padded strip of black material, which also covered his ears. Ali realised that he hadn’t even heard her calls. And even if he had been able to hear her, the hard ball gag wedged between his teeth would have prevented him from responding.

With heart pounding disbelief, almost on tiptoe, Ali walked towards the man who haunted her dreams, not sure whether to visit his front or back view first. She opted for his rear.

Her surprise at finding Rick bound and helpless paled into insignificance compared to the shock of what her emerald green eyes spied as she observed his tight arse. On the right buttock, tattooed in tiny neat red script, were the words ‘If I don’t obey my mistress, I will suffer.’

The evidence of this suffering was obvious. Across his butt cheeks and the top of his legs, old welds and bruises littered his skin. An image of Claire bedecked in black leather entered her mind. It wasn’t difficult to picture her whipping her lover for a whole host of unknown crimes.

Reaching out a hand, Ali hovered it in front of his scarred flesh. Her damp knickered desire at odds with the fact that she was about to touch her friends lover. Yet, Claire had set this up. The more Ali thought about it, the more she knew it was okay, and the idea that Rick might not know it was her, only increased her body’s nervous frisson. In fact, until she touched him, he wouldn’t know anyone was with him at all.

Reverently tracing the healing line of a past lash, Ali experienced a rush of adrenalin fuelled pleasure run down her spine and tickle her snatch.

Aware that he was not alone, Rick’s head twisted left and right, his senses straining to work out where his unseen companion was. Ignoring his flailing, Ali knelt as close as possible to the tattoo. Inhaling the aroma of masculinity, her sharp turquoise fingernails followed the loops of calligraphy.

holding pen

From her crouched position, Ali could see Rick’s balls. Passing a hand through his rigidly immobile legs, she teased his scrotum, enjoying the increased tensing of his leg muscles. Suddenly her fingers met a new and unexpected texture.

Moving around him quickly, Ali found herself facing the most solid dick she’d ever seen in her life, all neatly done up in a bright red ribbon. Two small silver keys were attached to either end of the garland, both presumably corresponding to the locks at his ankles and wrists. Ali’s final doubts about betraying Claire dissolved in an instant. The bow adorning his shaft was presenting Rick as if he was a gift.

Without wasting time wondering how her friend had worked out she fancied Rick, Ali began to act. Her tits felt so swollen that she just had to undo her bra. Threading it from beneath her shirt, leaving the cotton fabric flapping open over her breasts, she stalked around the room, studying the three sides of Rick she could easily get to.

Placing the flat of both palms on his chest, Ali inhaled the particularly salty sweat and desire dripping scent of the trapped male. Sliding her hands downwards, she made sure her nails scraped his flesh. Rick’s feet twitched a little, and his wrists rattled against the short chain that joined the leather cuffs. Ali wondered what he was thinking, and if Claire had told him she’d be coming to visit him. Something told Ali that he didn’t know, and to hold back from revealing her presence; to have some anonymous fun while she could. She had total freedom, and suddenly the months and longing to spank this guy until he begged her to stop was too much.

Turning to the mess on the desk in the corner of Claire’s bedroom, Ali picked up a ruler, and without hesitation, began to swipe it against Rick’s buttocks, paying particular attention to the tattoo, aiming one hit at a time at each of the individual letters.

Swaying with every strike, Rick’s feet stayed planted against the plush red carpet, as fresh pink blotches spread across his buttocks.

Pausing for breath, Ali listened to the faint murmurs of sound escaping from the corners of Rick’s mouth. Returning to his front, she licked away the saliva that had gathered around the rubber guardian. Her right hand snaked down Rick’s front; fingertips lingered above his naval for a second, before Ali tugged at one end of the ribbon, releasing his cock from its tight knot.

Ensuring that the satin fabric caressed his skin, she snaked it up his body, tying the ribbon and keys loosely round his neck for safe keeping. Then, knowing she couldn’t get what she most wanted while his mouth was muzzled, Ali undid the ball gag and cast it to one side.

Gasping and spluttering, Rick’s tongue swept over his dry lips. Quickly, Ali placed her index finger firmly over his mouth, her intention that he shouldn’t talk very clear. Then, she pushed his shoulders forward. With his arms secure behind his back, and his legs stuck, there was no way he could kneel down, but he could bend forward, which he did.

Hastily divesting herself of her trousers, so she was just stood in her knickers and open shirt, Ali pulled her belt from her jeans. A new hot pulse of power surged through her as the first strike met the top of his thighs, and a bellow of pain exploded from his mouth. It had been way too long since she’d treated a man like this. She felt high and all powerful, an empress of debauchery. Her pussy twitched and contracted with the moans and groans that issued from his mouth. Seeing a strong man hogtied was one thing, but hearing how much she was hurting him was what did it for Ali.

Her eyes kept straying to the tattoo. It fascinated her. She wondered if Claire had ordered its addition to his fit body, or if it was a delicious remnant of a previous relationship.

Stepping away from him, leaving Rick uncomfortably bent double, his strong stomach muscles working overtime, Ali searched Claire’s desk once more.

Smiling with satisfaction, she twirled the pen she’d found like a weapon. Levering Rick back upright, Ali bought the black biro to his left bicep. Pressing hard, so he was aware of every stroke of the pen, she began to write,

Dear Claire,

Thank you for your thoughtful gift. I guess you know me even better than I thought you did.

Love Ali

Breaking off with a viciously applied full stop, she briefly admired her work, before moving on to Rick’s thigh.

Dear Claire,

I have long dreamed of torturing your lover. I love the tattoo and previous whip marks. I hope you don’t mind the additions I’m about to make.

Love Ali

Again she pushed the pen nib hard, watching as Rick’s toned skin darkened with the pressure of her writing. With each dotted ‘i’ and each crossed ‘t’ Rick flinched and sighed, his confined reactions adding to her own arousal.

Moving to his annoying perfect six pack; Ali began to write once again.

Dear Claire,

Do you favour a whip or a cane?

Love Ali

Dear Claire,

Your lover’s dick is gorgeous

Love Ali

Dear Claire,

I have already tanned his arse. Now I’m going to smack his balls. I’m going to scratch his skin, I’m going to force my tit into his mouth and make him suck until he begs…

Ali wrote on and on, listing all the fantasies she’d ever had, every image that had inspired her midnight dreams. Then, when there was no clear skin left on his torso, Ali progressed to his back. Finally, when no bare skin remained north of his waist, she threw the pen to one side, and breathlessly returned to Claire’s bedside chest of drawers, convinced that would be where she’d find what she wanted to play with next. She was not disappointed.

Picking the short white cane from a tangle of her friend’s silky underwear, Ali trailed it through her fingers…


If you would like to find out what happens next, or discover what other Fem Dom tales are tucked away inside Yes Ma’am’s e-pages, it is available from all good e-retailers, including-

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Yes-Maam-female-domination-ebook/dp/B008H4JHVO/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1376072456&sr=1-6&keywords=yes+ma%27am 

Amazon US- http://www.amazon.com/Yes-Maam-female-domination-ebook/dp/B008H4JHVO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1376072566&sr=8-1&keywords=Yes+maam+kay+jaybee


Thanks for popping by for Day 6 of this look back at past erotica publications.

Tomorrow I’m honoured to welcome one of my erotica heroes – the unique, Mr Ashley Lister. Don’t miss it.

Happy reading,

Kay x

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