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”.
FREE ADMISSION. Open from 10.00am-9.30pm 8th March and 10.00am-6.00pm 9th March.
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.
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.
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
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!!!
Having 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).
…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…
If you’ve not got your tickets yet for Eroticon 2013, don’t fret, there’s still time! And with a full two days of workshops, panels and fabulous opportunities to network with some of the most creative minds of the erotica world, you won’t want to miss it! I’m ironing out the final details for my workshop on finessing sex in writing, in which much creative naughtiness shall ensue. And, wow! What fabulous company I’m in!
After a stimulating day of work-shopping and networking and absorbing so much information and atmosphere, what better way to unwind than relaxing with a nice glass of wine and a bit of Aural Sex! I’m very excited to announce that I’ll be reading along with some of my very favourite erotica writers. Take a look at the line-up! If that doesn’t make you drool, add to it the fabulous burlesque and Cabaret performers Miss Glory Pearl and Miss Maybe and how could it not be an evening to remember! Head on over to The Lock Stock Bar at 8 pm on Saturday the 2nd for lots of aural pleasure!
And now that you’ve checked out the line-up of panels, workshops and events and you’ve got the scoop about all the filthy aural fun planned for Saturday night, all that remains is to make sure you’ve got your ticket! Come join the fun at Coin Street Conference Center in London March 2-3!
Just a reminder. If you are attending my workshop on Finessing Sex, please bring your writing tools. There’ll be lots of filthy writing involved.
One of the best parts of my writing career so far has been the year and a half I’ve spent writing the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy. It both pleases me and leaves me slightly bereft to announce that the final novel of the trilogy, Elemental Fire, is now abailable in eBook formats and will be out 13 March in paperback. Demons and witches and ghosts! Oh My!
The characters have constantly surprised me by leading me on twists and turns in the plot that I would have never expected. They’ve made me love them and hate them and empathise with them and submit to them as they took me on the wild journey from Marie Warren’s voyeuristic encounter on the high fells to Tara Stone’s final and surprising battle with the demon, Deacon in the Dream World. I’ve loved every minute of the journey, and each time I sat down to spend a little time in the world of the Elemental Coven, I was transported magically back to the Lake District and the fells I love so much. The beautiful Cumbrian landscape has made its mark in my heart, as have the people who live there. There’s truly something wonderful about spending eighteen months magically transported to my favourite place to be with the Elemental Coven at Elemental Cottage while they live and laugh and love and battle their way to triumph over Deacon.
What can you expect from Elemental Fire? More demon encounters — some of them hotter than hot. But then demons are drawn to fire. You can expect to learn a great deal more about the Elemental Coven’s fearless leader and high priestess, Tara Stone. And you’ll meet Kennet Lucian, the stranger who enters her life through a dream and joins her in the Waking World with a very big secret. You can expect to find out what happens to Anderson, and you can expect to find out more about the mysterious succubus Cassandra. You can expect sizzling sex and chilling encouters in dark places. You can expect possession and deception and lies. You can expect love and laughter and commeraderie and preparation for a final battle that is more frightening than any the Elemental Coven has ever experienced. And, if I’ve done my job, you can expect a helluva good read.
Blurb:
Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.
Excerpt:
The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.
‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.
He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’
She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.
She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’
‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’
She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.
‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’
Exploring what might be the entrance to Lucia’s Cave
He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’
‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.
‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’
For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.
Looking out over the Newlands Valley from the top of High Spy
She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.
‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’
‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.
‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’
He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’
Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’
Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.
Castlerigg Stone Circle near Keswick
She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’
And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.
‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.
‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.
‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole. Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.
****
‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’
Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’
The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’
It’s recently been Valentine’s day and we all looked for something special to give to our loved ones. Sometimes though Valentine’s gifts last for no time at all, flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten, champagne drank. How about treating your other half to a great day out by the sea with extra added smutty fun?
Well, we’re offering Smut by the Sea tickets for £7.50 from now until 25st February 2013. This is a 25% off the usual price. This ticket will get you in to the Smut by the Sea Book launch with free nibbles and a glass of something bubbly plus readings that will get you in the mood for some seaside good loving.
Smut by the Sea takes place on the 22nd June at Scarborough Library. The event runs all day with readings and an erotic marketplace during the day (10am-4pm), featuring top authors like KD Grace, Janine Ashbless, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Slave Nano and Ruby Kiddell. And then the evening will showcase Smut by the Sea volumes 1&2 between 6-9 pm.
SHE IS: A fundraiser for WOMEN’S AID to promote a positive, direct and inspiring female voice.
It’s recently been Valentine’s day and we all looked for something special to give to our loved ones. Sometimes though Valentine’s gifts last for no time at all, flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten, champagne drank. How about treating your other half to a great day out by the sea with extra added smutty fun?