Thursday, 26 September 2013

Stuck! (....another short story)

Hello again!

There's another short story - click on the link in the left margin.

Have you ever been stuck in an elevator?  Or, if you speak British English, have you ever been stuck in a lift?  It's happened to me a couple of times, but we were freed within an hour.  And there wasn't time for anyone to attempt relationship-building like the characters in the short story I've put up today.  If it looks a little familiar, it's because I offered it as a freebie a couple years back when I first started publishing on Amazon.  In those days it was called Lift Stop, but I guess a lot of my American readers might not have understood the title.

Whilst writing, I have a quick progress report.  I'm a quarter of the way through my next title - it looks like it's going to be a little longer than originally planned, and there's less erotic content in it than normal - I'd say, at a rough guess, there may only be two or three erotic scenes in it.  Don't blame me, blame my characters!   (How about that for a disclaimer?)  So I'm going to call it an adult romance, not an erotic romance... but I'm still aiming to have a 'happy ever after' ending.

More soon!

Friday, 20 September 2013

Banana Twist - the first short story

If you click on the link in the left margin, you'll be able to read a short story that I wrote a couple years back.  I'm hoping to put another one up again soon - depending on how quickly the Muse delivers it to me!  I have to tell you that this story - Banana Twist - was inspired by this rude picture:

Now on to other things.  I was hoping to get a serial started but there have been a few setbacks with my main writing schedule and that project is going to take some time before it's ready.  If you're desolated to hear this terrible news, I can console you with some more material which I'll be putting up here in the next few days - it won't happen all at once, and will take several weeks to complete, but I hope there will be enough to kee you interested for a while.

I was always told that all the time we write, our style should be improving.  I have four or five unfinished stories that I want to revisit before the end of the year and revise them; more news later.  And I'm just starting the final chapter of my latest law firm romance, A Face from the Past.  I have my editor standing by, ready to work on it as soon as I've finished it, and will announce its publication here.

Keep watching this space for more developments!


Wednesday, 11 September 2013

The Girl in the Glade - Author's Note

The first section of this story is intensely personal to me, and one which I was never sure I'd write about. When I was seventeen years old, I had a bad accident which resulted in my having a near-death experience - although people didn't talk much about such things in those days (it was in 1967) and I kept the episode pretty much to myself, thinking I was unique. Yes, I went along the tunnel, saw the light and met people - some who were already dead, and others who later became my children and grandchildren - and, most important to this story, met the soul I have called The Gatekeeper.
When I started the first chapter, I wrote - as in all my stories - from a woman's point of view. Then I thought that I could make the rest of the story far more interesting if I had a hero, rather than a heroine. So I had to backtrack and rewrite everything from a man's point of view - something that's not always so easy to do.

Although I haven't mentioned it here yet, I can assure you that there are plenty of erotic scenes in the story. I couldn't live without them!

Here's the outline:

As a result of a near-death experience during a car crash which kills his wife, Andrew becomes sexually involved with a young woman whom he meets in an idyllic woodland glade. Initially believing her to be his soul-mate, he becomes infatuated with her. His son - endowed with strange abilities - warns him and Andrew soon realises that things are not what they seem. The truth arrives too late: he puts his second marriage at risk and, just when everything seems resolved and he's back in control, he is propelled into a situation where his life - and all those whom he loves - are in imminent danger.


I rang Susie, my sister, first thing the next morning to let her know that I’d be coming alone because Caroline was too busy with her work.
Then I telephoned Caroline to apologise for my behaviour the previous evening – although I considered she was equally at fault.
“I had an awful day at the office, and I took it out on you. You’re a free agent, Caroline. You can go out with any man you like. I was being silly, and I’m very sorry.”
Instead of responding directly to what I had said, she changed track. “I’ve never met your friend Aurelia. But I had another dream about the glade... and it’s occupied my mind ever since. Aurelia came to me in the dream; she said she’d watched us making love against the tree on Sunday afternoon. And she told me not to see you again, otherwise something terrible would happen.”
“You’re not superstitious, are you, Caroline?”
“This isn’t superstition. This was real. It was as if she appeared in my bedroom, looking over me. It was frightening.”
“We all have nightmares.”
“Not like this one. She described what I was wearing, what you were wearing, and how you couldn’t... how you couldn’t reach a climax. She must have been there, watching us.”
“I never saw her,” I lied. “I can’t think of a rational explanation. It’s obviously upset you, so let’s talk about it next week, when I get back. Things should have settled down by then.”
“You’re not seeing her this weekend, are you?”
I lied again. “No. I’m never going to see her again. You know that. I’ve told you so.”
I put the phone down, and felt a stirring between my legs. I was excited; I’d be seeing Aurelia again, on the way back from Susie’s on Sunday afternoon. Aurelia had entranced me; I was in thrall to her, and I didn’t know how to get her out of my head.


More again soon - keep reading!


email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com

Twitter: @RachelCray1

Tuesday, 10 September 2013

September 2013 Update: Planning for Change...

Hello again!

Regular visitors to this site may notice that I'm gradually changing the cover designs for most of my books. Please let me know if you like them... or if you prefer the old designs. Indie authors like me are constantly being reminded that we have to take a more active role in our own marketing, and getting new cover designs is just part of the picture. As if we don't have enough time writing new stories!

I've been doing some planning to make some other changes but they will have to come at a slower pace as I have a lot of new words to get down - my Muse is getting impatient with me because I'm not typing fast enough. And some of the changes will have an impact on this website.

When time permits, I want to put out a weekly (illustrated!) serial and maybe some short stories here, just to whet the appetite of new readers. I'm still planning the opening episodes of the serial in odd moments, but I hope to have the first of the short stories out next week.

Secondly, I'll be changing the links in the right-hand column, but very slowly - each link will go to a free first chapter of the story listed, with links to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, Apple, Kobo and whoever else. I want to get my words out there!

Finally, I'm currently half-way through writing a new story in the Law Firm Love series - no, I don't have a title yet. But I'm planning on making it the standard 30,000-word length as all the others. I'm keen to get this out as fast as I can, since I've spent far, far too long writing in the fetish erotica genre, in my guise as C.P. Waterman. My roots are in erotic romance, and I need to get active back here once more.

Any questions? No? Good. Now I can get back to writing Chapter 4....



email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com
Twitter: @RachelCray1

Monday, 9 September 2013

When One Love Is Not Enough

A long time ago, there was a girl in our office who worked part-time. She was married, but she had a sick relative and she had to take turns in caring for her; this meant she was away from home four days every week. Her husband was a good-natured kind of guy. Things unravelled after she'd been in our team for six months; it turned out that there was no sick relative. She was a bigamist, and had another husband a couple of hundred miles away that she saw the other half of each week. Neither of her husbands knew the other existed. She went to prison, and we never heard from her again. Now that sounds like a basis for a good story, doesn't it? Maybe I'll write it one day.

The herone in this story - When One Love Is Not Enough - has two guys in tow, but - unlike the real-life situation I've just described - both men know about each other. She has to reach an important decision.

Here's the storyline:

Kim Beech is a secretary at the London office of an international law firm. She has to rush to hospital when her father falls ill, and has a chance meeting with Andy, her old boyfriend. They fall for each other again, and agree to go out together every weekend when Kim comes to visit her father.
Meanwhile, when she returns to work, she meets Steve - a handsome American lawyer who has just transferred from the New York office - and her loyalty to Andy is put to the test. Steve is prepared to share her with Andy; he'll see her during the weekdays and, over the weekend, Andy can see her. Kim enjoys the sexual attention she receives from both men, but eventually realises she is deceiving them and deceiving herself. She can only have one love. Once she has made up her mind which man she wants, how can she tell the disappointed party...?


“Do you dance?” Without waiting for my answer, he walked over to his CD player and put on some slow, smoochy music. “May I have this dance?”
I had no option but to accept, and he held my waist with both hands, swaying in time with the slow tempo. We said nothing; we maintained a silent eye contact. He wanted me. But I wasn’t available. I shut my eyes, shunning the temptation that his body offered as he pressed himself closer against me while we danced. And, when I opened them, I saw his lips were close to mine, ready to plunge forward and announce his desire to have me, if I were willing.
It was enough. I withdrew. I had had Andy in my bed that morning. I couldn’t betray him that quickly.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I guess I misread the signals.”
“Forget it,” I tried to smile, and walked away. “Do you need a hand in the kitchen? The washing up?”
“You’re a secretary, not my housemaid,” he said as I went into the kitchen and ran some hot water into the sink. “There’s no need for this,” he continued.
I only arrived here fifteen minutes ago, and I can’t really leave so soon, I reasoned. Doing the washing up somehow prevented me from making a hasty, undignified exit so soon after everyone else had left. “I’ll wash, and you can wipe,” I said.
We began, and there was plenty to talk about while we worked.
“O.K., Ms. Beech, can you make yourself available on Wednesday evening? By way of thanks for helping me with the washing up, and as a consolation for not being able to make tonight’s party?”
“What’s the occasion? A supplementary housewarming party?”
“No. I want to entertain you. Just you. Dinner, followed by the theatre.”
I was interested. What harm would it be, after all? He knew that my relationship with Andy was pretty serious now.
“Thank you for coming. And for washing-up.”
“I’ll invoice you for that.”
“Oh, and I’m sorry about the misunderstanding earlier... you know...”
We were relaxed, tired, and happy. Impulsively, I kissed his cheek.
As I turned to the door, he pulled my shoulder back round and kissed my lips.
I felt my tongue enter his mouth. And then I recoiled. Without a word, I rushed out of his apartment and downstairs to my car. What was I doing? What had possessed me?


That's all for this time - thank you for your continued support!


email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com

Twitter: @RachelCray1

Sunday, 8 September 2013

No Way Out - Author's Notes

The sequel to Snatched. Several readers asked for a sequel... so here it is....

Once again, Julia Bennett finds herself abducted into a nightmare of sexual humiliation in a foreign land far from home. The man who had kidnapped her in Snatched has broken free and now seeks revenge... assisted by an unlikely companion whom she thought she could trust. Naked, locked in a prison cell, where her captors speak a language she can't understand, how can she escape? Without a passport, can she prove her identity?

Her boyfriend is still searching for her, but has no clue where to start.

How can she reach him from her bleak, far-away dungeon?


The door unlocked again, and in strode Stamm and one of his men. “How did you sleep last night?” he asked.
“All right,” I replied evenly. I was waiting for him to make some remark about my haircut. He didn’t.
“It’s time for breakfast. We’ll take you to the dining room. Come on.”
Still naked, I walked with them along the corridor again; after some small distance we turned through an open doorway and I found I was back in my old cell. A plastic plate, containing bread, and a beaker of water were waiting for me on the floor. A clean plastic chamber pot was in the far corner.
Stamm was trying to humiliate me and, so far, he was doing a very good job to try and make me break. I realised there might come a time soon when I would come close to that point where the world would collapse around me. But I had to steel myself and prepare for it.
“Back in your old home again, Ms. Bennett. I have a lot to do, but I’ll be back to see you later today.”
“May I have a wash?” I asked. “I’m sure I must smell by now.”
He ignored me. The door slammed shut; I was alone once more. I looked around; there was no hint of a camera, a window or any other way in which they could keep an eye on me while I was in here. I was tempted to cry; surely it wouldn’t do any harm, would it? I thought. It might be good to get some of the frustration out of my system.
But I knew that if I had let the tension get the better of me, Stamm would have won the battle. I had to be strong. If he wanted to screw me standing against the wall, then it was fine as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t going to object. I wouldn’t object to anything he was going to do to my body. I just wouldn’t let him mess with my spirit.

More to follow soon!


email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com

Twitter: @RachelCray1

Saturday, 7 September 2013

Dirty Pictures - Author's Notes

I’ll have to come clean with you on this one: when I had finished this book, had it edited and proof-read, and finally had it up on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and all the other distributors… it didn’t sell. Well, I only sold one copy in the first week. And two copies in the second week. I began to wonder whether anyone had found something particularly offensive in the free first chapter (like voyeurism… watching a co-worker masturbating whilst watching two other co-workers copulating). And I withdrew the book and “rested” it for a couple of months.

Then, without revising it, I thought damn it, let’s put it up again and see what happens. And it’s turned out to be very popular. You never can tell!

Much of what I write is based on my own experiences or what I’ve heard over the years. Having read Dirty Pictures, you’re bound to wonder – Is there a law firm in London which contains a basement where the staff can go for free-for-all sex? Well? Gentle reader, my lips are sealed. But, to borrow a couple of lines from a conversation in The New Client,

“People [working all hours in law firms] find it relatively easy to find themselves falling in love with co-workers. This might sound silly to you now but, trust me, it does happen.”

I can certainly vouch for that. No, it never happened to me (I was happily married already) but it was going on around me all the time.

By now, you’ll have realised that I love erotic art – not necessarily pornography – and it turns up time and again in some of my stories – A Close Match (heroine likes to draw), Jack, Me… and His Lodger (“lodger” teaches art and is an art historian – she’s the heroine in Needing Her, Needing Him). I can give you a confident promise that erotic art in one form or another will be re-appearing in a few more titles in the future.

Finally, there’s a strand running through this story: sexual blackmail. It's the first time I’ve ever used it. I hope you enjoy it – and look out for Sally in another title I’ve written – No Way Out – she was too nasty a character to keep for just one book.

Here's the story:

Melanie, a legal secretary, is a key member of a team in a law firm that is head-hunted by a competitor. She falls in love with a senior associate who also is a talented artist with a portfolio of erotic pictures. She is invited to model for him and, when he is moved to their office in Germany, she finds herself blackmailed by a female lawyer who wants to use her for her own sexually perverted ends.

How can Melanie escape from the horrible treadmill that her nemesis has set up for her?


That afternoon, something unexpected happened. I was sitting with Simon Green at his desk, going through a complicated document that needed wholesale revision. Simon was the other associate on Larry’s team. He broke off from what he was saying and, out of the blue, asked me “How about coming out with me this Saturday?”
I was unprepared for this, and had to think of an appropriate reaction – and quickly. “I’m very flattered, Simon, but – as I’m sure you know – Vernon Carpenter and I are going out together.”
“Yes, I know, Melanie. But Vernon’s in Berlin and you’re here. Unless you fly out to Germany every weekend to see him?”
“No, of course not.”
“So how about a little fun? I’m sure you deserve it. I’ve seen how hard you work here. And we’re still keeping fun in our family, so to speak.”
I chuckled. “You make it sound like incest! The answer is still No, Simon. But thanks anyway.” I smiled but hoped he’d realise that my reply was final.
Before the end of the day, I was cornered at the water cooler by Sally. She had crept out of nowhere – I had tried to avoid her all day, unless there was a crowd of other people around.
“I heard Simon tried to date you.”
There was no warm preface like ‘Hi, how are you? Sorry I hurt you on Friday.’ She went straight in with something about Simon’s approach to me. I remained silent.
“I’ve been trying to get a date with him ever since I started here,” she continued. “I’d do anything to get a date with that guy.”
“Ask him.”
“I have, several times. And he always makes excuses.”
“There’s plenty more fish in the sea, Sally.”
“But I want that fish. I’ve paid for sex before, and I’m prepared to pay for it again. Especially with him. I’ve got an idea. We could make up a foursome. You could go back to Simon and say you’ve changed your mind. Fix a date with him, tell me when it is, then I’ll find one of the tame guys here and persuade him to come out with me, and we can make up a foursome. But don’t say anything to Simon about that – it’ll be a nice surprise for him.”
“I don’t like the idea.” I moved to turn back to my desk, but she grabbed my arm.
“You don’t have to like the idea, Melanie. I know about those dirty pictures, remember? Just fix the date with Simon, and I’ll fix the rest. If I get to have sex with him, you get a bonus. Remember I said I’m prepared to pay for sex.”
“I’m not going back to Simon to plead for a date.”
“I think you should. I know too much.”
I walked back to my desk. I was less concerned about the revealing portrait of me. But if she spread the story round about Vernon’s pose in the picture, I could never look him in the eye again. It would be the end of our relationship, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t feel I could go to the partners here, as I’d just joined the firm and I’d be marked as a trouble-maker. In only a few weeks, Sally had appointed me to be the office pimp.

That's all for this time - there'll be more to follow soon!


email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com

Twitter: @RachelCray1

Friday, 6 September 2013

One Man Too Many - Author's Notes

This story is another than breaks away from the law firm romance sub-genre that I've been writing - the heroine here is a recruitment consultant. I wanted to put her into a job where she might meet some strange and "interesting" people....

Here's the outline of the story:

After a short and unhappy marriage, Mandy has finally left her husband and is offered refuge by her cousin. She quickly finds a new place to live, a great new job, and... a gorgeous new boyfriend with whom she can have the kind of intimate relationship she could never enjoy with her husband.

Anxious to expand her contacts in her new job, she is invited to a meeting of a group of influential business people whose sexual tastes are more adventurous than her new boyfriend can offer. One contact wants her for his new Domme...

Excited by these activities, she is faced with the choice of staying with her loving but conventional boyfriend or exploring new avenues with her business contact; she can't have both.


Jake stood, and pulled up his jeans and buckled himself together. He turned and help me unstrap myself. “I could get a hard on, just looking at you with that dildo,” he smiled. “And those stockings... Wow!”
I stepped back into my skirt again, and turned to Jake. “What happens now? Do these people just carry on doing this all night in here?”
“No. A bell will ring in a minute. That’s a five minute warning for everyone to finish. Then drinks are served and we mingle. That’s when I introduce you to a few people here. Then, in another thirty minutes, the bell sounds again and everyone pairs off again, but this time into private rooms upstairs.”
“I’m curious; I always associate BDSM with handcuffs, bondage and other physical stuff. I don’t see any of that here tonight.”
“That happens later, upstairs. Or, for those people who want a dungeon environment, there are four rooms in the cellar downstairs.”
Gradually, people began to uncouple themselves from their activities; collars were removed, and those who were completely naked put on trousers or dresses to make themselves more presentable for the social portion of the occasion; they didn’t bother with underwear, as they would be undressing again for the final - private - part.
The bell sounded; the steward and his assistant brought in drinks - there was a choice of white wine, orange juice or water - and Jake introduced me to about a dozen people. He explained what I did; most of them asked me for my business card, with the promise that they might be in touch if they heard of any useful possibilities in their own business networks.
“How do you feel now?” Jake asked when we had a private moment in our corner of the room.
“It’s all been very strange. But what I did to you” -
“It’s called pegging.”
“- that was fantastic. I felt just like a man, poking my husband.”
“You don’t feel ready to join me upstairs for some more yet, I imagine.”
“No, Jake. But this is a whole new world to me, and I don’t regret coming. And thank you for the invitation.”
“You’re very welcome, my dear. And, as a memento of the occasion, you can take this home with you. I’ll settle up with the steward later.” He handed the strap-on to me.
“I’m not sure....”
“Come on, Mandy. You found it therapeutic, didn’t you? You could wear it again, around the house. Even if you don’t use it with anyone, it might make you feel good.”
I took it. “I really must be going home soon.”
“I’ll order a cab and come to your station with you. Will I ever have the chance to bring you here again?”
“I don’t know, Jake....”
“I’m looking for a new lady to partner me. Someone whom I can serve. You’d fit the bill very nicely.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“No pressure. I’ll give you a call later in the week.”


That's all for this time - thank you for your continued support!


email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com

Twitter: @RachelCray1

Thursday, 5 September 2013

Needing Her, Needing Him - Author's Notes

This is the second in the series "Lucy & Friends", and is a sequel to "Jack and Me... and His Lodger". I must tell you that I had to do a fair amount of research in preparation for this book as it covered a field that I wasn't totally familiar with - relationships between lesbians and bisexuals, and issues such as jealousy that might arise when the bisexual partner wants to "play away" from home with someone of the opposite gender.

Lucy and Angela are lovers and live together; Lucy has a bisexual orientation and Angela is a full-on lesbian. When Lucy meets Ross, an old boyfriend, she hankers to re-establish her close relationship with him. An opportunity arises that could enable her to have the best of both worlds, but it involves subterfuge, and deceiving Angela in a selfish move that threatens to undermine the foundations of their love.

Lucy wants Ross for sex games; he is her willing submissive, and they plan regular meetings to have wild sex together, including pegging and light BDSM.

Ross is interested in a permanent relationship with her, but Lucy doesn't want to risk damaging her close bond with her lover. Can she ever persuade Angela to accept her need to continue seeing Ross? How is she going to achieve this, and still preserve the love that the two women have for each other?


“What had you planned to do during this Easter vacation?” Ross asked me.
“I was going to sit back and recharge my batteries. Anyway, you haven’t told me what your book was going to be about. When we spoke about it on the telephone, you said I’d have to wait and you’d tell me today.”
“It’s going to be an historical novel.”
“Who’s the hero? Or what’s the subject?”
“The hero is unnamed as yet. He travelled all over England in the 13th century, creating frescoes in cathedrals and abbeys. He returned to each place, time and time again, to retouch or expand on his works. And he has a girl – or two – in each town. The church doesn’t like it, of course, but he gets away with it.”
“You know, Lucy, I think there’s something of a male version of you in that story.”
“And, come to think of it, you are one of the best people around to help me in my research, with the historical details I need for the background.”
“I’d do whatever I can. I expect others have written similar tales about medieval artists.”
“But this is going to be different. There’s a twist to the story. My artist – he’s not a monk or a priest – finds a tiny chamber off the monks’ dormitory in each abbey he visits, and designs some erotic frescoes for the walls; the monks can go in there to give themselves sexual relief, inspired by the pictures, and he calls it an onanarium. It’s a word I made up.”
“It sounds like a place to store onans. What are they?”
“No, silly. Think bible and think....”
“Oh. After that Onan...?”
“Got it. The thought of writing about a bunch of guys pleasuring themselves – while looking at medieval pornography – is going to give my own imagination a lot of sexual pleasure and amusement.”
“Does the man in your book go to convents, too? Will he be painting pictures to gratify the nuns?”
“Yes, and I think that’s going to be where he gets unstuck. The Mother Superior finds out, and... oh, I haven’t got that far in the planning yet.”
“I can see this affair never got into the history books, because the church was too embarrassed and would have kept it quiet. That’s very good, Lucy.”
“Now, are you ready to get started again? You want some role play this time?”
“You’ll have to get me hard again. And it might take some work, after the climax I’ve just had.”
“The pleasure will be all mine. But I’m going to have to peg you. Is that O.K.?”

Please feel free to write to me any time - I can always find time to respond personally to my readers.



email: rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com

Twitter: @RachelCray1

Wednesday, 4 September 2013

Snatched - Author's Notes

This was my first venture that tentatively approached a BDSM theme; I really wanted to explore the subject of humiliation in a sexual setting. There are other authors who are experts in the field of BDSM and, being a nice shy girl, I didn't want to venture too far here. But, as things turned out, the story turned out to be one of my best sellers and I was persuaded to write a sequel - more details below.

Here's the outline of the story:

Julia Bennett works for a prestigious international law firm in London. On her way to meet her boyfriend after work one evening, something happens which threatens to change her entire life. She faces a nightmare of humiliation, and is subjected to some harsh treatment by a group of sexual deviants who think she is someone else; when her identity is established, her contrite captor falls for her and attempts to make amends for her appalling treatment.

But, when the police catch these criminals, her problems are far from over. Can she live a normal life again? Will her boyfriend's love for her still be strong enough, knowing that she is "soiled goods"?

And what about the woman who was the criminal gang's real target?


The floor was carpeted, and the room was heated, unlike the cold reception hall downstairs. I had no idea whether there was anyone else in the room; indeed, the blindfold was so thick I had no idea if the chamber was lit.
I lay on the floor, crying, for five minutes. Then I thought I might get to my feet and walk round to determine the size of the chamber, and to check whether I was alone; there might be other people here, either guards or other prisoners.
I steadily rose to my feet, and made my first uncertain steps.
“All right, boys. Let’s do it!” A male voice yelled past my ear.
His command was met by loud cheering from other men in the room.
When I first entered this place, I was bewildered. But now I was even more confused. They had remained quiet when I had been thrown into this place, had watched me naked, exposed and defenceless, and had observed my stumbling around.
Hands touched me now. I was being pulled towards one side, and lifted on to the cold surface of a table. I was made to lie on my back, and their hands pulled at my ankles, forcing my legs wide apart. I gritted my teeth, preparing myself for the ordeal of gang rape.
But it didn’t happen.
I heard them undressing; they were undoing their belts and pulling their pants down.
“Remember, boys, no touching... anywhere!”
The steel handcuffs pressed into my back as I lay on the table. I moved my arms so that the cuffs were at the side of my body, but I was still very uncomfortable. Then I heard muffled sounds, and couldn’t understand what was going on. I lay still.
After a couple of minutes, I heard one man groan and, in an instant, I felt warm fluid drip on my body. He was ejaculating over me. And another ecstatic moan came from the other side of the table, and my arm was splashed with his semen. The steward of this place had promised me humiliation. But I had no idea I would be debased in this shameful way.
When the fourth man had reached his orgasm, I didn’t bother to count any more. So I never knew how many of them were in the room, enjoying their perversion over my body. While the later ones were still spurting themselves at me, the earlier people were getting dressed again and leaving the room.
At length, there was only one man left, standing at the foot of the table, still holding my ankles apart. He evidently hadn’t joined in this wankfest.
I heard approaching footsteps as someone else came into the room. He walked towards the head of the table, and pulled off my blindfold.
It was the steward.
“Don’t look at me, Ms. Bennett. Look at your body. This is just the first part of your humiliation. There’s a lot worse to come, when my master arrives. I bid you goodnight.”


And, in case you want more after you've read this, I wrote a sequel called No Way Out that might interest you….

That's all for today!


email : rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com
Twitter : @RachelCray1

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

The New Client - Author's Notes

When I was working for a large practice - many years ago now - we had a client from California who visited us in London on a regular basis and used our office as a base to conduct his business, since his firm (a medium-sized bank) didn't have a presence in Europe. Whenever he came, I assigned a secretary to look after him for the two or three weeks he would be with us. Naturally, I'd bill him for her salary while he was over here. And - confession time here! - whenever he was away from the office, visiting his own clients, if the secretary I had given him wasn't busy, I could always find some work for her to do on a pro-bono project we might be working on. So everybody won! The client never knew about this arrangement, and I don't think he even suspected. I certainly don't think his firm - generous people - would have cared.

I used this scenario for The New Client - but, in this case, the hormones in some of my characters were allowed to go a little out of control!

Now for the storyline:

Jenny, a secretary at an international law firm in London, is assigned to look after a new special client from New York who quickly becomes attracted to her. The client soon makes it clear that he wants her to do more than type his letters and update his spreadsheets; he has personal, demanding needs that only she can satisfy. She is under pressure from her senior lawyer boss, who insists that she does everything that the client asks of her.

But she has fallen hopelessly in love with his assistant, a gorgeous man who had a significant place in her distant past.

How can she spend time with the client's assistant, who reciprocates her love?

How can she escape the attentions of the client, a wealthy industrialist, without compromising the law firm that she works for?

And when a female executive arrives with private demands of her own, how can she cope?


Within an hour, I was knocking on the door of Val’s room. She let me in and I looked round to absorb the feeling of the room, how it compared with the Quiet Room we had used, and what changes might have to be made to our routine. There was plenty of space, with the double bed in the far wall, and a large desk and chair on one side by the window.
“Thanks for coming, Jenny,” she said.
Sam walked in from the bathroom. “Yes. Thanks very much.”
“Who’s going first?”
“Me,” said Val. Can we do it on my bed? Will that be O.K.?”
“Face down,” I said. “I’m coming in from behind.”
“I’m sitting down over here,” Sam said, from an upright chair near the bathroom. He had his back to us. “I won’t be watching this. And Val won’t be watching me when it’s my turn.”
I was busy putting on my strap-on under my skirt.
“Right. Let’s begin,” I said.
Val stood facing me, by the bed. I shifted straight into the role-play.
“You’ve been a wicked woman, Val. First of all, you’re going to have to suck me. Get on your knees!”
I was surprised at the speed with which she obeyed me. She looked at the bulge, poking forward under my skirt.
“Take it! And suck it! Hard!”
I pulled faces as men do, when they are enjoying their women giving them fellatio. And I made appropriate ecstatic noises.
After a few minutes, I pulled away. “That’s enough! Now, you horrible bitch, you’ve made me horny! You’re going to have to pleasure me!”
Still kneeling, Val reached for the tube of lube, which had been placed ready on the bed. She applied it and went through the motions of rubbing my plastic toy.
“Oh! That’s good! Rub me all over, Val! Yes! I like it when you do that!” And again, I pulled the excruciating faces to give some semblance of extreme pleasure.
Then I stopped her, and we went into the final routine.
“O.K., Val, I’ve had enough. You've got me worked up now, I want your body. Get on the bed. Now!”


To some people it may seem improbable to have a member of a firm’s staff assigned to a single client on a permanent basis – and in situ, on the firm’s premises – but I can assure you that it often happens. However, they don't often fall in love! Who’s to say that it couldn’t happen?

That's all for now - but I have plenty more to write here again soon.


email : rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com
Twitter : @RachelCray1

Monday, 2 September 2013

Working Overtime : a prequel to Interview For Love - Author's Notes.

After a short break from writing about romance in law firms to pen the Maybourne sequence, we're back again on my favorite subject: love affairs in legal practices.

Sandra is a horny young woman on a mission. One reader commented to me that she thought Sandra was more of a slut than anything else - but, believe me, she (and her behaviour) was based on a real person I knew - although, mercifully, I never had to work with her. Anyway, when Sandra starts her new dream job as a secretary at a big city law firm, she falls for a good-looking paralegal.

But her boss has designs on her; he wants her all to himself. He starts to flex his power by manipulating her relationship with her boyfriend; their careers are balanced in his hands, and she is forced to comply with his demands to satisfy his personal needs by offering herself to him whilst working overtime.

How can Sandra get herself out of this situation and devote herself to loving her paralegal boyfriend? And how can she escape the dominance of her boss without ruining her boyfriend's career?


Next morning, Saturday, I went to the office and decided to wear a pair of stockings under a denim skirt. I wanted to see if David would have the same reaction to them as Gary had. I knew men were all different, and had a variety of obsessions and fetishes. I needed to see which buttons I should press to arouse David. As an afterthought, just as I was leaving my bedroom, I turned back and removed my underwear.
He was waiting by my desk, as he had done the previous Saturday.
“Good morning, Sandra,” he smiled. I sat down in my chair and he leaned over to explain the task that he wanted me to do. And he wanted to look down my cleavage. “I’ve got some files here that need checking; the contents may not be complete, and you will need to make a note of whatever appears to be missing. I estimate that this should take you all morning. There are lawyers and clients around for meetings today, so I’ve booked the Quiet Room for you. You won’t be disturbed there. Except by me. O.K.?”
“That’s fine,” I said.
I reached for the files, to take them from him, but he said “That’s all right, Sandra. I’ll take them up for you. I need to check the room anyway.”
We stopped off at the kitchen to grab ourselves a cup of coffee each, and then made our way to the Quiet Room; predictably, he locked the door behind him and put the files on the table. I lifted my foot on to a chair to expose my thigh, to see whether he would like my stockings.
“Oh, God, Sandra, you know how to get to a man, don’t you?” he said.
“Are you horny so soon?” I smiled, hoping that I might gain control of our situation today.
“Yes, of course I am.” He sat down in a low armchair.
“Do you want me to help you get it out of your system, and then I can start on the documents?”
“That would be good. Can I see you without your skirt?
I unclipped it and let it drop to the floor.

Sunday, 1 September 2013

Village Accounts - Author's Notes

This is the second story that I wrote in the Maybourne sequence – it’s set in an old-world English village with ancient timber-framed structures, a ruined abbey and a few Georgian town houses: the kind of place where everyone seems to know everyone else, with a heroine who’s trying to escape from a dangerous stalker. There are one or two characters here you may recognise who featured in A Close Match.

Here's the story:

Diane Wilson is trying to get over a disastrous relationship and pleads with the boss of her accountancy firm to have her moved to another branch office. When she finally gets her way, she finds herself in the picturesque district of Maybourne, with its old-fashioned houses, the ruins of an ancient abbey... and Arthur, who helps her establish herself in the business community. And with whom she quickly falls in love.

Circumstances change unexpectedly, and her former lover starts stalking her and forces himself on her. How can she escape from her evil Nemesis? And would Arthur take her back if she were to return, knowing what he has done to her? And what is the truth about Arthur's dark past?


I was about to leave, when my phone rang again. I thought it might be Arthur again, with a forgotten postscript to his last call; I merely answered “Hello,” without announcing my name.
“Hello, lovely lady,” the voice said. It wasn’t Arthur. It was that execrable creature, Trevor Thomas.
“What do you want?” I sounded vicious, angry that he was trying to re-enter my world. I had thought I had finally rid myself of him.
“Don’t be annoyed. I heard you’d come back, and thought we could meet up again sometime. How about tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’m working through the weekend. I’m back here for a specific purpose. The sooner I can get finished, the sooner I can get back home.”
“Yes. Home. You’ve got a new home now, haven’t you. I heard about it. A little bungalow in the country, isn’t it?.”
I said nothing. I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t move.
“If you don’t have time to see me while you’re here, then I’ll have to come and visit you down there after you’ve finished your project here. That will be good, won’t it?”
“You stay away from me!” I hissed.
“Oh, come on, Diane. That’s no way to speak to an old friend.”
“I’ll call the police!”
“They didn’t help you last time, did they? Harassment, you called it? They didn’t believe you then, and so why should they believe you now?”
“Please…” I gasped. “Just fuck off, once and for all!”
I hung up quickly, and looked around to see if anyone had heard me. I turned off my mobile phone. I could pick up any messages later, when I had recovered my composure.
Returning to the hotel, I had a quick shower and went downstairs to the restaurant. I tried hard to get that last phone call out of my mind, but it wasn’t easy. I’ve always found confrontational phone calls to be more difficult to handle than face-to-face arguments.
“You hung up on me,” said the voice behind me. “That wasn’t very nice, was it?”
I turned round. It was Trevor Thomas. In person. He had followed me here. Or he had found out where I was staying.
The tension that I had only just successfully cleared away now flooded back and hit me hard. “What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“I wanted to see you again. We have some unfinished business, you and I.”

There's a story that I wrote next - Kate's Return which follows on from Village Accounts - we'll talk about that soon.


email : rc (at) rachelcray (dot) com
Twitter : @RachelCray1