Finessing Sex Notes: Post Your Exercise on Irregular Voice

I’ve been asked for the notes from my Eroticon writing workshop, Finessing Sex and the In Media Res exercise I used at the end, so here they are. Sadly, the forty-five minute time allotted to us meant that most of the people in the workshop didn’t get the chance to share their work. The lovely Mia Moor has kindly taken it upon herself to solve that problem by allowing anyone who participated or anyone who wasn’t able to attend the workshop but wants to do the exercise to post their creative efforts on her wonderful website, Irregular Voice Thank you SO much, Mia, for sharing your site! You’re the best.

Below are the notes from the hand-out I used, which I’ll also pass on to Ruby for the Eroticon site. I’ve added just enough to clarify where needed. Enjoy!

*****

FINESSING SEX

Notes

Part 1: Creating Characters                           

Create at least two characters, and give yourself five minutes to create a very rough character sketch of each. Feel free to use characters from a story you’re working on and use the scene for your story or simply use the exercise for raw material. Do whatever you want with your characters as long as by the end of your scene at least one character has sex

Number one rule: Write! Keep on writing! Don’t stop!

Setting yourself a limited amount of time in which to brainstorm a topic or a character is a fantastic way to get beyond the internal editor to the good stuff! Allow yourself to play with the words and have fun.

Part 2: Cause some chaos. Ask yourself:

1. How can the sex scene you’re about to create have the most impact in your plot?writing-image-2-225x300

2. What are the consequences of this sex scene?

3. Who is affected by this sex act?

4. What revelation does this sex scene bring about?

5. How can this sex scene be used most affectively to drive your story?

Remember! Sex should NEVER be gratuitous. Sex always serves a purpose.

6. When the sex is over, how will the landscape of the story be changed?

Part 3: Choosing a POV. Ask yourself:

1. From whose POV is the sex in this scene most interesting. Why?

(If you choose to write your scene from the third person objective POV, why is that the best POV?)

2. Whose POV will best move your story forward? Why?

3. Whose POV will result in the most chaos?

4. Whose POV will give the most emotional charge?

5. Who has the most baggage?

Hint: Baggage is one of the best tools for helping choose POV. Baggage is what every person carries from childhood, from traumas, from past sexual experiences or lack thereof, from anything within the emotional place where your character is when you write her/him having sex.

Note: Not all of these questions may be satisfied by one character’s POV. You’ll have to choose which POV will best serve the story. Sometimes the most important thing about the POV character is the insights he/she offers the reader into another character!

Part 4: The ‘Photo Shoot’

Think of the scene you’re writing in terms of a series of snap shots. You, the writer, are now the photographer, and you get to choose the snapshots you believe will give your reader the most vivid experience of the story you’re telling. Remember, the ultimate voyeur in the story will be your reader, so make the scene worth looking at. Think in terms of:

1. The physical attribute of your characters.

2. Using all of the senses.

3. What does the person who’s POV you’re writing from actually think about her/his experience of sex. The running internal commentary can sometimes be the sexiest part of a sex scene, or the most revealing. Remember, this is why you’ve chosen this person’s POV.

4. The language used in the sex scene is also a powerful tool for eliciting emotion, arousal, a sense of who these people shagging are, what matters to them, and how they experience sex.

5. Location can raise the risk factor, raise the discomfort level, raise the heat level and affect the pacing of the scene.

Step 5: Write it!

1. In Media Res. Minimise the setup and start in the middle of the action. Tell the story from the inside out.

2. Remember! Editors are busy folks. They may give you as few as three paragraphs. If you hold their interest for three, then you get a fourth. If you enthral them for four, then you get a fifth …

Your job is to start at the point that grips and make the reader unable to leave until they find out what has happened to put your characters in such a position.

The Exercise: Using the above tools, write for ten minutes. Write without stopping; write without slowing down. Start in the middle of the action and create some chaos as quickly as possible.

Now write like the wind!

And when you’re finished, don’t forget to head on over to Mia’s site, Irregular Voice, and add your results and check out what everyone else came up with.

Helpful Sites:

Erotica Readers and Writers Association: http://www.erotica-readers.com/

Erotica for All: http://eroticaforall.co.uk/

How to Write Erotic Fiction: http://howtowriteeroticfiction.blogspot.co.uk/

The Erotic Literary Salon: http://theeroticsalon.com/

My Websites: https://kdgrace.co.uk/ , http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/

Helpful Books:                  

Writing Erotica:

How To Write Erotic Fiction and Sex Scenes — Ashley Lister

How to Write a Dirty Story –Susie Bright

Writing Erotic Fiction – Pamela Rochford

Love Writing: How to Make Money Writing Romantic or Erotic Fiction – Sue Moorcroft

Writing Craft and Inspiration:

Writing Down the Bones – Natalie Goldberg

Best book ever on giving yourself permission to write badly in order to get to the good stuff.

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers – Renni Brown and Dave King

Best book on self-editing and honing craft I’ve found.

 

Eroticon 2013: Community, Creativity and Fun

75526_10151629778475561_1361237413_nWriters write in solitude. That’s one of the pleasures as well as one of the hazards of the job. We need other people. We need interaction, but because writers tend to be introverts, extroverted events can be both tremendously exhilarating and totally exhausting. I’m writing this post somewhere in between the two. I’ve been basking in the afterglow of Eroticon 2013 all day, looking at all the lovely tweets and posts, reading the blogs and remembering, and reflecting, and analysing. I’ve nabbed photos from Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse, and I’ve now downloaded my own, which gave me another chance to relive the amazing event. It gave me another opportunity to marvel at the organisational skills of Ruby Kiddell, which absolutely border on genius. It gave me another opportunity to be astounded by Harper Eliot’s ability to hold up under stress with finesse and grace and still pull off a stunning evening of aural sex when things didn’t quite go to plan for the readings! Hats off to both of you! You rock!

481675_10151629778870561_42965464_nAs always, I didn’t get nearly to all of the courses I’d wanted to. That wasn’t just because there were too many delicious offerings happening at once. It was also because there were times when I was torn between attending the courses and continuing with a conversation in the meeting room with someone I knew full well I wouldn’t see again for another year, if not longer. The courses were fabulous. For every one I attended, there were two more I’d like to have attended. Though I have to admit for me, who quake at the very thought of writing a poem, Ashley Lister’s poetry workshop was the highlight. Remittance Girl’s fascinating talk on eroticism and romanticism was also amazing and has given me food for thought for a long time to come.

Teaching a writing workshop for the first time ever, and on the afternoon of the last day, meant that I spent a good part of my weekend trying not to angst too much about how I’d manage to convey what I live with and love passionately to a roomful of people I knew  all had their own passionate love for writing. I needn’t have worried. I was in good company, company that completely understood where I was coming from and were eager to participate. I came away feeling like I’d gained far more than I’d given.

I had the chance to spend a quiet hour talking to, Hazel Cushion, the MD of Xcite Press. I had the chance to finally meet the amazing Suzanne Noble in person. I had a chance to spend time with Janine Ashbless, Kristina Lloyd, and Rachel Kramer Bussel. I chatted with Maxim Jakubowski. I had a chance to finally meet Anonymous Lily. I had my picture taken by the fabulous Mario Cacciottolo for his ‘Someone Once Told Me’ project, while I shared my adventures in Lapovo with him. I know for every person I’ve mentioned I’ve left out six. And every one of them made me feel richer and deeper.

I won’t lie. I came to Eroticon 2013 for the community. That’s what I came for last year and that’s what I’ll come back for next year. And I SO wasn’t disappointed! On Friday night for the ‘pre-game show,’ I had the pleasure of a fabulous ladies night out filled with burlesque at Volupte. I was in the company of Kay Jaybee, Lucy Felthouse, Victoria Blisse, Lily Harlem, Lexie Bay and Tabitha Rayne. At Volupte, we caught up with Delores Deluxe, the fabulous Kittens of the Kitten Club, along with the totally yummy Dave, the Bear. There 481188_10151629777860561_1576819210_nwas dinner and laughing and cocktails and planning and scheming and catching up.

Last year at Eroticon, Lucy Felthouse, Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and I spent a late night after Eroticon at the hotel bar dreaming and scheming what became The Seven Deadly Sins anthology, published in December. This year as we all sat in the hotel bar with the welcome addition of Lexie Bay and Tabitha Rayne, Lily surprised us all by producing a scrap of paper from her notebook. It was the same scrap of paper on which we had schemed The Seven Deadly Sins a year ago! I don’t mind saying my heart did a little flutter dance at the thought of the rich well-textured, beautifully vulnerable, outrageously funny moments that had led to those scribbles on that piece of paper.

The depth of the creativity and the sense of community I feel with my old friends in erotica, whom I can never get enough of, and with those that I’ve just met that I feel like I’ve known all of my life still astounds me. There’s a sense of celebration of what the last year has brought about linked to anticipation of what the future holds. It’s all about community for me, about who we all are together and separately, about what we all can offer up to each other and what we all receive in abundance by being a part of something so vibrant and so hope-filled. There’s also a wonderful sense of permission granted, a sense of encouragement offered, a sense of ‘well, go on then. Just go do it. You know you want to, and we all know you can.’

I came away feeling more than myself on the one hand and more deeply myself on the other. I came away anticipating what I’ll create between now and Eroticon 2014 and what we all will create, because looking back at this weekend, how could what comes from it be anything less than stunning?

New Release: Tangled & Bound By Emily Ryan-Davis

Tangled and BoundTANGLED & BOUND

EMILY RYAN-DAVIS

Available from:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
BN
All Romance Ebooks
Kobo
Ellora’s Cave

A Taken in Bondage Erotic Romance

Friendly, adventurous, sexually submissive…and a complete stranger. She’s exactly the anonymous, no-consequences diversion fetish-club owner Sam needs to kick off a few days in Las Vegas. He doesn’t hesitate to take her up against the door of the in-flight bathroom.

Powerful, dominant Sam could have walked straight out of one of Melanie’s dog-eared BDSM novels. When he strikes up a conversation on a late-evening flight, fictional fantasies become knee-weakening, panty-soaking, feminine-core-clenching reality. And oh-em-gee, does she want another taste of that!

When Sam informs her that his plans don’t include a long-term D/s relationship with an impulsive young blonde for whom submission is more than likely a passing whim, Melanie throws herself into convincing him she’s exactly the submissive lover he wants, needs and can’t live without.

*****

Excerpt:

Chapter One

August

Halfway into her non-stop flight from New York to Las Vegas, Melanie Burke started to squirm.  Her restlessness had nothing to do with her tiny middle-of-the-row seat and everything to do with the muscular, denim-clad thigh touching her bare leg.

The thigh belonged to a man she’d noticed hours earlier while waiting to board. In a sea of people wearing jeans and t-shirts, he’d stood out, and not because of his scuffed cowboy boots and oversized belt buckle. Well, not only because of those. While the whole Texas horse wrangler look was out of place in LaGuardia, he certainly wasn’t the only man doing the Western thing. He was the only one doing it well, though.

The nice ass and hand-tooled boots weren’t what had her snapping a surreptitious pic and forwarding it to her BFF, Brooke, who was a self-proclaimed expert in all things BDSM. Something else was.

Something about him declared, “I’m in charge”. Ever since she’d gotten wet while reading a BDSM-themed novel earlier in the year, Melanie had become a sneaky people-watcher, looking for the whole “in charge” vibe Dominant men apparently put off. When she’d despaired ever finding her Dom, Brooke had advised her to chill and wait. According to Brooke, Melanie would just know. She was on the verge of giving up and going back to her normal sex routine of grad students and bar crawlers, but then she saw him.

During boarding call, she’d covertly watched the way he stood apart from the crowd even while standing in the middle of it. Her attraction to him was inexplicable. The cowboy look really wasn’t to her taste. She went for guys with more of a GQ look. He didn’t exude sophisticated power like the heroes of her dog-eared novels, either, but he did take her breath away. Some part of her she was just discovering wanted to kneel at his feet and gaze up into his eyes from below.

When she reached her assigned seat on the plane, she was both startled and thrilled by the coincidence that booked him in the seat next to hers. Now, as she turned the page of her book, a “mommy porn” title on every national bestseller list, she snuck a peek at her in-flight neighbor’s face.

Pale, grass-green eyes met hers. Caught in the act of looking, startled by the fact she’d caught him in the act, too, she quickly shifted her focus back to the book spread across her fold-down tray.

“Good book?” Her neighbor’s voice wrapped around her, warm in the too-cold cabin. She pressed her thighs together as her simmering arousal cranked up a notch.

“Most of the world seems to like it.” She glanced up to find him still watching her. This time she was prepared for the intensity of his examination and managed to maintain eye contact. She even did a little looking of her own, mostly in the form of a closer inspection of his dark-blond evening stubble and full lips. Those lips quirked while she studied them. They would be fantastic between her legs.

As if he had access to her little fantasy, his smile widened.

“I’m not interested in most of the world. Do you like it?” He reached over, closed the book, and turned it so the front cover showed. “Who would’ve thought a simple neck tie would become so iconic?”

“It’s a very striking cover,” Melanie agreed. But totally disinteresting to her now. As far as visuals went, he had all her attention. His shoulders dominated the narrow seat. She seriously wanted to climb astride his lap and put her hands on him. Maybe rub up against that big belt buckle. And she wanted to beg him to keep talking. The Midwest meets New York accent was weirdly fascinating.

“The question still remains whether you’re enjoying the read.”

“It’s crazy popular–“

“Yes or no?” He interrupted.

Heat flashed through her. Blinking rapidly at her body’s response to his demanding inquiry, she managed to say, “I’m not sure.”

“There’s a simple way to tell.” He leaned close and spoke directly into her ear. “If you’re wet right now, you’re enjoying the book. “

The powerful confidence of his voice stirred something low in her abdomen. She was wet before his lips brushed her ear. Now she felt soaked.

“Answer me, honey.” He touched her chin and tilted her head at a slight angle. Callused fingertips settled on a spot just below her jaw. “Your heart’s racing, but I don’t think you’re scared. I think that book has you so hot, you’re dying to slip your hand into your panties.”

*****

More Information:

Other Taken in Bondage Series Titles Available Now

Tied & Twisted

Naked & Unleashed

Want more like this? Join Emily Ryan-Davis’s newsletter today for access to subscriber exclusives, contests, new release news and more. To subscribe, go to http://www.emilyryandavis.com and click the “Contact” tab.

SHE IS: A fundraiser for Women’s Aid to Promote a Positive, Direct and Inspiring Female Voice

Fuschia Ayling She Is charity benefit poster 1 524602_584897678205656_292324699_n SHE IS: A fundraiser for WOMEN’S AID to promote a positive, direct and inspiring female voice.

She Is is a collaborative exhibition bringing together a group of passionate and creative students from Kingston University and Camberwell College of Arts. The exhibition delves into femininity, looking at topics such as sexuality, therapy, expression and experience, explored through a range of mediums and approaches.

The exhibition will be suitably held on International Women’s Day and will be fundraising for Women’s Aid. As well as exciting visual art the event will also include workshops and spoken word and musical performances.  Involved are lecturer and artist Dagmar I. Glausnitzer-Smith who will be offering a performance “crash explosion” workshop during the daytime. Also appearing will be “Sophia Blackwell” – a self-identified performance poet, cabaret vamp, burlesque wannabe, feminist lesbian warrior princess and Italian pasta-momma and “Volker Renato”- a stand up poet. There will also be an acoustic set by “FRANKENSTAANEE”.

 

 

Fuschia Ayling She Is charity benefit poster 2 307469_584897738205650_1002370270_n

 

 

FREE ADMISSION. Open from 10.00am-9.30pm 8th March and 10.00am-6.00pm 9th March.

For information call: 07773105964

Electric House, 296 Willesden Lane, London, NW2 5HZ.

Contact:

diana@meanwhilespace.com  for information on the venue.

Senior lecturer and artist, Dagmar I. Glausnitzer-Smith, will be collaborating by offering a performance crash explosion workshop during the daytime.

We have spoken word and performances by Sophia Blackwell, a performance poet, cabaret vamp, burlesque wannabe, feminist lesbian warrior princess and Italian pasta-momma. Volker Renato, a stand up poet.

Promoting us will be the Belle Jar Magazine, Sh! Women’s Erotica Emporium, Erotic Author Kd Grace, East End Cabaret, Sue Williams and Everyday Feminism.

Join in with this exceptional event and help in the fight against violence and the exploitation of women across the globe as well as being part of a stand for peace, unity and positivity amongst us all. 

Kay Jaybee Talks about the Erotica Family

I’d like to pass on a huge thank you to the lovely Kd for inviting me over to her site again today. It was this kind invite by my good friend and right hand in erotica, that got me thinking- the world of erotic writing really is a very friendly place.

Ever since I began my journey as a writer seven years ago, one factor has repeatedly struck me- and to be honest, it wasn’t one I was expecting- everyone is so friendly.

kayjaybee- the family eroticapic in black(1)As an incredibly tiny fish in a huge pond back in 2005, and a small fish in an even larger pond here in 2013, it never ceases to amaze me that the very people I’m in direct competition with are the very ones who lend a supporting hand when required, and advertise my work alongside their own.

I hadn’t thought there would be open hostility out there in erotica world or anything, but as this is an extremely competitive market, I simply hadn’t imagined how helpful and kind my fellow authors would be. And of course, it isn’t just fellow authors that are ready and willing to extend the hand of friendship.

The Sh Women’s Store in London has welcomed myself, and my friends, to their shop many times to read our work to their lovely customers. Lovehoney have supported me with blogs, and countless kind reviewers have boosted my confidence (more than they’ve robbed it!), and followers on Facebook and Twitter, who I have never even met, often send supportive messages, share my posts, and promote my events.

And then there are the readers themselves! Bless every single one of you. Without you, myself and my colleagues are nothing!! I have been particularly lucky lately, with some very kind fan mail, and find myself in the strange position of having been asked by more than one reader to write faster, as they’ve read everything I’ve written, and want more!! Now that’s the sort of compliment that keeps us writer’s getting up in the morning!

Naughty K D gets a spanking from Kay Jaybee
Naughty K D gets a spanking from Kay Jaybee

Before you think that perhaps I’m drowning in a vat of sentiment, of course there have been the odd hitches along the way. I’ve had my share of followers who are just slightly too keen, and give me a little bit too much detail about how they’ve enjoyed my work!! And sadly there are still those readers that can’t separate the material that I invent from real life. It never ceases to amaze me how surprised these people are when I have to break it to them that, even though I have invented many a Fem Dom character, I am not into that way of life at all, and the chances of them finding me ordering someone to hang from a chandelier in their knickers and thigh high boots, while I brandish a whip and a determined expression are 1 in several billion!!!

Kay Jaybee and Steve PPMHW books collHaving produced erotic collections and novels that are heavy on the BDSM, such as Yes Ma’am, The Voyeur and The Perfect Submissive, I can’t say I’m surprised at these assumptions. Nor do I mind them. How could I, when it’s so much fun creating these characters, it would be churlish to say the least!

I’ll leave you now, and head off to write The Retreat (Part Two of The Perfect Submissive trilogy), as quickly as I can! Promise!!

Thanks again KD for inviting me over for a chat!!

Kay xx

Bio-

Kay Jaybee wrote the novels Making Him Wait, (Sweetmeats Press, 2012), The Voyeur (Xcite, 2012), and The Perfect Submissive (Xcite, 2011), as well as the novella’s Digging Deep (Xcite, 2013), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2012), and The Circus (Sweetmeats Press, 2011). She has also written the anthologies The Best of Kay Jaybee, (Xcite, 2012), Tied to the Kitchen Sink, Equipment, (All Romance, 2012), Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books, 2011), Quick Kink One and Quick Kink Two (Xcite e-books, 2010), and The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 1st Ed 2008, 2nd Ed 2012).
Kay has had over 60 short stories published by Cleis Press (inc. Best of Best Women’s Erotica 2, Best Women’s Erotica 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2012; Best Bondage 2012, 2013, Sweet Love, Gotta Have It, Sweet Confessions), Black Lace (Sexy Little Numbers), Mammoth (The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica), Xcite (inc.Ultimate Sin, Boy Fun, Power Play, Threesomes, Finger Music, Tricks For Kicks), Penguin (Oysters and Chocolate; Erotic Stories of Every Flavor), Seal (Oysters and Chocolate; Nice Girls, Naughty Sex),and Sweetmeats Press (Immoral Views).

 

You can find details of Kay’s work at www.kayjaybe.me.uk

You can follow Kay on Twitter- kay_jaybee

And on Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

 

Kay Jaybee ThePerfectSubmissive200Extract from The Perfect Submissive

…Jess was sat at her desk, a half eaten sandwich in one hand; the fingers of her other hand dancing over the computer keyboard. Laura watched her through the office window for a few moments before confidently stepping into the room, interrupting the clerk without hesitation. ‘Mr Davies informs me he has not yet had time to complete your preliminary tour of the hotel.’

Understanding precisely where the manageress intended to take her, Jess spoke carefully, ‘I’ve seen most of it, but not all.’

Without confirming the clerk’s suspicions, Laura said, ‘I have a few moments, so if you’d like to walk this way I’ll complete that area of your training.’ She pointed towards the office door, ‘You are bound to be asked for directions around the place by our guests and it doesn’t look very professional if a member of staff gets lost herself, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would, Mrs Peters.’

Although she’d now worked at the Fables for just over a week, Jess still hadn’t looked her boss in the eye once, a fact that sent a buzz of conviction through Mrs Peters; her initial instincts about the girl had been correct.

‘Are you happy here so far, Miss Sanders?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters. Thank you.’ Jess muttered her response, almost managing to glance directly at her superior, but falling short at her shoulders. Laura’s heartbeat increased in response to the girl’s natural deference. Jess Sanders was just so perfect for what she had in mind.

As they walked towards the staff lift Laura attempted to improve the flow of conversation, ‘And I don’t think you have yet been introduced to all the other members of staff?’

‘Not yet, no.’ Again Jess spoke cautiously, and Laura knew from the expression on her face that she was both fearful and curious about meeting anyone who kept their business arrangements entirely to the Fables upper storey.

‘We are one member of staff down at the moment; one of my assistants has left us for pastures new. I’m searching for a replacement. Master Lee Philips, who works in the bar downstairs, helps me out as and when required, but it’s not an ideal arrangement. He has many other duties, and besides, the fifth floor guests frequently prefer the female touch.’

Following the clerk into the lift it was obvious that no small talk was going to come from her, so Laura calmly kept up her commentary. ‘My associate, Miss Sarah, should be on the premises by 10.00 each morning, unless she has had a complete night session, in which case she is not expected until 2.00 p.m. As I’ve said, Master Philips comes and goes, depending on our requirements and his bar and reception work. Miss Sarah has her first session of the day in a few moments, if we are lucky we should just catch the show.’

Visibly shrinking back, Jess noticed how Mrs Peters walked a little taller now they’d reached her domain. Her face was more set, her back straighter, and somehow she appeared even more intimidating than before. Pushing her hands into the deep pockets of her clinging knee-length black skirt, Jess hid the growing sheen of perspiration on her palms, while trying to ignore the fearful beat of her pulse.

Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.

Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.

Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.

The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of her head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made Jess reconsider. Her eyes kept drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.

‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’

Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’

The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.

The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination began to run riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.

As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise longue and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.

If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’

A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything…