Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Interview with Kay Jaybee

1.How did you start your writing career?

From the moment I was old enough to hold a pen I began scribbling stories and poems. As a child I frequently wrote plays for my imaginary friends to perform, and once I had children of my own I began to write poetry more seriously. (I have a number of poems published under my real name- but I’m not telling you what that is!!)
I started to write erotica entirely by accident. Six years ago, I was sat in a cafe in Scotland, killing time before picking my children up from school, when an idea just came to me (I honestly have no idea where from), and I found myself jotting a very naughty poem called on a paper napkin.
It was a while before I was brave enough to send it to a publisher; but eventually I decided I might as well try my luck- after all, I had nothing to lose. Miraculously they liked it, and I’ve been playing with smutty words ever since.

2. When was your first sale?

The aforementioned poem, written in that Aberdeenshire coffee shop, was called Regrets. It is thanks to the editors of the fantastic web site http://www.oystersandchocolate.com/ , and their policy of giving new authors a fighting chance, that I sold my first piece of erotica in Sept 2006!
My first erotic story followed soon afterwards. Entitled Jen and Tim, it was a cross dressing (ish), spanking (ish), story which Violet Blue took up and published with the Cleis Press in the anthology Lust!
I will be forever grateful to Jordan and Sam (Oysters and Chocolate), and Violet Blue for giving me those early opportunities.

3. Tell us about your current release.

My latest release is a Fem Dom anthology called Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books).
A collection of six arse spankingly, wrist binding, whip wielding tales of female domination, Yes Ma'am contains straight, lesbian and bi-sexual encounters of the S&M nature.
Here’s a quick taster of each tale to keep you going...
Lying in Wait- Cadet Luke Porter is the least successful army recruit in the squadron. The butt of his comrades jokes, his reputation badly needs improving, and he is desperate to do well in the seek and rescue exercise he’s about to embark upon. Some of his female counterparts however, have other plans, and are determined to find out just how far Luke will go to improve his standing within the regiment...
Black - He is intoxicated by the woman in black. He can't explain why he needs to see her, why he willing does precisely what she tells him to. Why she has such an effect on him, as she sits him in the backroom of a private club and weaves her web of control around him. He is beginning to think he has sold his soul to the devil herself...
Dear Claire - Ali has secretly lusted over her best friend’s lover Rick, for a long time. At least, she thought it was a secret. When her friend Claire asks her to take coffee into Rick as he lies in bed, it appears that Claire has left Ali a gift wrapped present; her boyfriend, shackled, blindfolded, and ready for Ali to do whatever she likes with. Amazed by Claire’s generosity, Ali doesn’t know where to start, until she sees the neat sentence tattooed on Rick’s arse, ‘If I don’t obey my mistress, I will be punished.’
“Don’t You Emma” - In a delicious corruption of Lee’s longed for fantasy, his lover Daisy arranges for them to share another woman. Rather than enjoying a full-on threesome however, Lee finds himself forced to sit and observe his partner perform all the chastisements she normally saves just for him upon a girl called Emma. A girl who, it seems, can withstand the punishments Daisy dishes out with far more self control than Lee has ever managed. Simply sitting in an armchair has never been so difficult...
Not Taking the Tube – Venting his frustration at being delayed yet again by London’s Underground system on the nearest official, the harassed businessman finds his complaints aren’t received in quite the way he’d expected. The petite guard upon whom he directs his anger has just about had enough of the constant string of complaints from the commuters she tries to help. Swiftly turning the tables on her latest assailant, she realises her own pent up anger quickly, sexily, and with the expert use of her surprised companion’s black leather belt...
Rachel’s Twisted Tale - Imprisoned in a bare room, high at the top of an old house, totally naked, her long golden plait wrapped around her body, Rachel waits. She waits for her mistress gaoler to punish her for being perfect. She waits for Tom, her secret lover, to climb in through the window and fuck her...

4. Tell us about your next release.

I have just finished working on a novella- but it is all very top secret, and I can’t tell you about it!
I am currently writing my next novel for Xcite. Fantasy 13 features an FFM threesome; Mark Parker, the manager of a successful software corporation, his PA, Anya, and his Housekeeper, Clara.
Mark, the ultimate voyeur, has a list of thirteen fantasies that he wishes his employees to complete while he watches. Each task becomes slightly more challenging until, when the women reach the pinnacle of their challenge- Fantasy 13 itself- Mark casually informs them that they haven’t performed some of their tasks well enough to find out what the final fantasy is, and will have to do some of them all over again. This time however, they are in competition; but he hasn’t told them that…

5. When in the day/night do you write? How long per day?

My writing period is confined to between 9am-11.30am, and 8pm-10pm. During the morning period, I sit in a local café amongst the other regulars (none of whom know what I’m writing), munching on brown toast and marmalade, and sipping endlessly at a cup of black coffee, which the kind proprietor keeps constantly topped up.
In the evening, I curl up on my sofa, with my laptop to hand, typing up whatever words of smut laden wisdom have come to me that day.
The period of time during the middle is taken up with my 2 ‘proper’ jobs, of the admin variety- both far too dull to bore you with!!

6. What is the hardest part of writing your books?

The hardest part has to be finding the time to actually write everything as quickly as it needs to be written. In order to reach deadlines and, at the same time, not let know my ‘real’ employers down, or forget my family commitments, I have to juggle like the devil. Somehow I manage- but only because I have a fantastic PR lass (Lucy Felthouse- check out her writing- fab) - I’d be lost without her constant calendar reminders!

7. Who are your books published with?

Over the past 6 years I’ve had the good fortune to have books published with Xcite, Cleis Press, Mammoth, Black Lace (may they rest in peace), Austin & Macauley, Seal and Penguin.
I also have a host of short stories featured on the http://www.oystersandchocolate.com/ web site, and in the much missed Foreplay magazine.

8. What do you think makes a good story?

A good story is different things to different people. It is impossible to write anything that will be considered ‘good’ by everyone. However, I firmly believe that if I base my erotica in situations and locations that everyone can relate to, then I have a better chance of producing something with a wider appeal.
Once I have a location pictured in my head, be it a café, club, or storeroom, I can twist the circumstances to my advantage, introduce characters (which must have a believable reason to be there), and take all their clothes off- or not!

9. What do you do to unwind and relax?

I have no idea- I have never been able to do either! I wish I could. If I work out how to relax, you’ll be the first to know!!

10. Do you have any suggestions for beginning writers? If so, what are they?

I have the good fortune to be a fairly regular visitor to the erotica reading sessions at the Sh! Women’s Stores in London. The last few times I’ve been there I have been approached by a couple of aspiring writers, who have asked for tips. This is extremely flattering- and always takes me by surprise- I feel that I’m still learning the ropes myself!
However, I always give out what I consider to be the most important piece of advice I can- Edit, edit and then, edit all over again.
Editing is so important. All your hard work and exotic imaginings will be wasted if you don’t edit your work properly. Publishers and editors are busy folk, and a poorly edited piece won’t even reach the first read through.
It is also worth remembering that different editors have different tastes. Just because one editor doesn’t take your work, it doesn’t mean another one won’t. Always try a rejected piece with at least three different people- if it still doesn’t go, then it needs more work.
If you need to find Kay on any weekday morning, then she's usually to be found in the far corner of her favourite cafe, with a large black coffee in one hand, and a ballpoint pen in the other.
After five years of compiling stories and poems, and reviewing other people's work, she says without doubt, that there is NO going back. Once writing has you in its power you are at its mercy for life. It doesn't pay well, it leads to constant disappointment, and it takes over every other thing you do - but when the publisher says "Yes," and the occasional unexpected royalty cheque arrives in the post, it suddenly all seems worthwhile, and I love it!!

You can find more information on Kay's website: http://www.kayjaybee.me.uk/. She's also on Facebook and Twitter.


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.
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

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