Thanks for having me on your site today!
So, what is it that makes someone want to be
sexually subservient to another? Why do so many people enjoy the total removal
of their free will? Even within the bounds of fantasy rather than reality, the
concept of becoming a sub to a more dominant partner is extremely popular.
I honestly can’t answer these questions- for one person’s
reasons will be totally different from the next. This is a notion however, that
Jess Sanders has to come to grips with very quickly as she enters employment at
the Fables Hotel...
Hidden behind
the Fables Hotels respectable facade, five specially adapted rooms wait; ready
to cater for the kinky requirements of its guests.
When Mrs Peters,
the mistress of the hotels exclusive entertainment facility, meets the new
booking clerk, Jess Sanders, she instantly recognises the young woman's
potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will
take is a little education.
Under the
tutelage of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with her unexpected
training schedule, the increasingly erotic chill she experiences each time she
survives a new level of correction, and a truly sexy exercise routine.
Temporarily distracted from her intimidating
rule over Fable’s top floor by an
enigmatic artist, Mrs Peters begins to plan how she can secure his obedient
assistance, in grooming Jess into the perfect submissive...
Jess soon becomes witness to the willing subjection
of fit healthy young men, and successful business men and women, to the whips
and spanks of the employees of the hotel’s fifth floor. Only as she begins to
understand how their willing lack of control in their fantasy lives helps them
cope with their stressful ‘in control’ working lives, can Jess get closer to
becoming the submissive assistant Mrs Peters wants her to be.
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.’
The suffocating quiet of the room was broken by the newcomer,
who apparently totally oblivious to his audience, was pressed to his knees by
Miss Sarah. His head lowered, he was left were he was as the lady sat in the
wing-backed chair, her back straight, her chin tilted, her clear eyes filled
with disdain as she studied her supplicant.
Jess tried to turn her
head away for a second time, but again, had it sharply wrenched back to the
scene unfolding before her. She felt incredibly hot despite the general chill
of the room, and wished she could take off the thick jumper that was so
essential in her cold little bookings office.
Miss Sarah stood again, her abrupt movement making Jess jump
and Mrs Peters smile with sardonic approval. ‘You know why I have called you
here, Master Paul.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ The words were spoken with humility, but Jess
heard every word. It was like being in a theatre watching someone dictating
well rehearsed lines.
‘I believe I’ve had to speak to you before about your time
keeping. Twice before in fact.’
The man’s eyes remained dipped, ‘Yes, my lady.’
‘I’m afraid that, as this is not the first time there has been
cause to reprimand you, the punishment will be more severe this time.’ Miss
Sarah didn’t sound afraid at all. Her cut-glass voice sounded triumphant as she
towered over the man, who seemed to be getting smaller, as if he was shrinking
against her tone.
With a rustle of the petticoats hidden beneath her bust
hugging dress, Miss Sarah turned from her client and began to search through
the desk drawer. Jess held her breath; positive she knew what Miss Sarah was
searching for. It has to be a wooden ruler. Jess had read enough erotica to
know how these scenarios went. It was almost text book. She wondered if she
should have been disappointed, but the hardening of her nipples told her
otherwise, as did the tell-tale twitch beneath her skirt. Determined to keep
her unbidden arousal secret, Jess privately admonished herself for being so
susceptible.
She averted her eyes
from the woman at the desk, but Jess couldn’t bring herself to turn them from
the manservant. He captivated her. So strong, so masculine. What makes him want
to come here and be controlled like this? Why does he pay to be humiliated?
‘It’s fascinating,
isn’t it?’ Mrs Peters seemed to be reading her mind.
Jess felt goose pimples
sprinkle her flesh as her employer continued to speak in whispers, her warm
breath tickling Jess’s ear, ‘He’s a strong young man. He is good looking. He
could dominate any girl he chose, and yet here he is, getting his rocks off by
crouching in obedience before a powerful woman.’
Jess opened her mouth
to speak, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say; or even if she
was permitted to speak. Instead she flicked her attention back to Miss Sarah,
who’d finished her deliberately protracted hunt through the desk, and now held,
not a ruler, but a short handled white whip.
‘Assume the position,
Master Paul.’ Miss Sarah stood proud, the whip resting naturally in her palm,
as the young man approached the desk and dropped his breeches.
He was about to place
his chest against the desk, when Miss Sarah interrupted him. ‘I think today, as
we have visitors, you should move to the other side of the desk.’
Her guest looked up,
his face crimson as he allowed himself to properly register the presence of
Jess and Mrs Peters for the first time.
Master Paul said nothing
as he shuffled awkwardly forward, his clothing around his ankles, giving Jess
her first glance of his rigid cock. She released an involuntary sigh as she saw
it; tight, textured, its smooth tip glistening with want. Jess didn’t think
she’d ever seen a man so turned on. To her surprise, she realised she would
have felt disappointed if she hadn’t been able to see his dick.
‘Magnificent isn’t he?’
Mrs Peters appeared amused as she regarded the clerk, the fingers around her
wrist allowing her to feel every beat of Jess’s fastening pulse, ‘I think you
should pay close attention, Miss Sanders. If the speed at which your blood is
pumping is anything to go by, you are going to enjoy this...’
If
you would like to discover how Jess learns to cope with her new life, and the
concept of willing humiliation, and the pleasure that can come from such
behaviour, The Perfect Submissive is
available in paperback, as an e-novel, and as an e-trilogy (Part1- Hidden Agenda, Part 2- The Art of Submissive Survival, Part 3- Room 54)
Thanks again for letting me visit today
Kayxx
Bio- Kay Jaybee wrote the novel The Perfect Submissive (Xcite 2012), and
the novellas A Sticky Situation
(Xcite, 2012), and Not Her Type: Erotic
Adventures With A Delivery Man (OCPress, 2011). She’s also written the
anthologies Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books,
2011), Quick Kink One and Quick Kink Two (Xcite e-books, 2010), and The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 2008). 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, Sweet Love, Smooth, Gotta Have It, Sweet Confessions),
Black Lace (Sexy Little Numbers),
Mammoth (The Mammoth
Book of Lesbian Erotica), Xcite (inc.Ultimate Sins, Boy
Fun, Power Play, Threesomes, Finger Music), Penguin (Oysters and Chocolate; Erotic Stories of Every
Flavor), Seal (Oysters and Chocolate; Nice Girls, Naughty Sex),and
Sweetmeats Press (Immoral Views). She
is awaiting the publishing of her second novel, Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats Press, 2012) Details of her work past, present and future can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk
Buy Links-
2 comments:
Thanks ever so much for letting me come by today xx
Thanks so much for being my guest!
Post a Comment