At Randerley Hall, lust is a lubricant to creativity.
Nothing is impossible.
Nothing is forbidden.
Now available as a boxed set – all three volumes in Lisabet Sarai’s intensely erotic steampunk series, The Toymakers Guild!
Steampunk Erotica, MF, MM, FF, MFM, FMF, etcetera…
265K words, 821 pages
Defying the repressive morality of the Victorian era, the Toymakers Guild uses advanced technology to fabricate bespoke sexual devices for the discrete pleasure of select clients. Its members are not only brilliant engineers but also sexual renegades seeking freedom from the prudish society that surrounds them.
Nineteen-year-old prodigy Gillian Smith arrives at Randerley to apply for an apprenticeship in the Guild. With her technical abilities and her lascivious temperament, she is eminently suited to join the Master Toymaker’s close-knit band of uninhibited erotic artisans. Gillian flourishes among the Toymakers, designing and implementing ever-more-outrageous carnal contraptions. Each voluptuous commission she completes, each sensual adventure she enjoys, binds her more tightly to the Guild and to the perverse, tortured genius who is its founder.
If you like brilliant, wanton women and kinky steam punk sex toys, dive into the alternate universe of the The Toymakers Guild.
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Clockwork and Concupiscence
I’ve always felt an affinity for the Victorian period. I was wearing high-necked blouses with cameos, long flowing skirts, and lace-up boots in my teens, long before they were fashionable. (The corsets came later…!) With my long hair parted in the middle and pulled back into a bun, I could well have been one of the heroines in the books I loved so much.
I was also a science geek from my earliest days. I received my first microscope when I was five, and my first chemistry set at seven. I entered every science fair. In seventh grade, I won grand prize on a televised science quiz show.
So it’s hardly surprising I’ve become a devotee of steam punk. I’ve been in love with this strange meld of science fiction and Victoriana for as long as I can remember – long before steam punk even had a name. When I was in high school, I devoured H.G. Wells and H. Rider Haggard, and shared a Sherlock Holmes obsession with my dad. Later, I marveled at Neal Stephenson’s The Diamond Age and more recently, I discovered Gordon Dahlquist’s incredible The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters.
I’ve written a number of steam punk short stories for anthologies, as well as a full length novel, Rajasthani Moon. All these tales, though, were set in Asia rather than in the British Isles. I think I was afraid I’d make errors my UK readers would notice if I tried setting a story in Queen Victoria’s home country. In my steam punk trilogy The Toymakers Guild I finally bit the bullet and wrote an English steam punk novel. I had a lot of help with details from my critique group at the Erotica Readers & Writers Association, but of course I take responsibility for any residual mistakes.
I just hope you’ll find the story so exciting, you won’t notice them!
“Enough!” she said, pushing herself into a half-sit. “Enough foreplay. I’ve been nearly two weeks without your cocks. I want you inside me.”
Rafe swung his legs onto the bed so he could stretch out beside her.
She reached out to capture his steely erection and gave it a squeeze. He felt bigger and harder than she remembered. He moaned in response.
Jeremiah crawled up the other side, between her body and the wall, and lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand. His luscious dark cock prodded her thigh, streaking her pale skin with pre-cum. Without relinquishing her grip on Rafe’s member, she stroked Jeremiah’s shaft, savouring the way the velvet-soft skin slid over the steel beneath.
“Oh, Jill! That’s marvellous!” Rafe murmured. “Though if you keep it up, I’ll spend faster than a ruptured cistern.”
“I’m not sure I can hold on either.” Jeremiah gritted his teeth as she ran her thumb over the knob, then tickled the sensitive ridge underneath. “But we’ll do our best for your sake. Who do you want first?”
“That should be you, Jerry, given that I got first taste.”
“No, it’s Jill’s choice.”
Heart racing like a runaway locomotive, Gillian looked from one man to the other. “I don’t want to choose. I want you both inside me.”
Jeremiah bolted upright, his eyes wide. “At the same time?”
She nodded, amused by his apparent shock.
Rafe rolled off the bed and onto his feet, grinning broadly. He knew her better than the Jamaican did. After all, they’d shared the Master’s aphrodisiac wine.
“I – um – how…?” Jeremiah’s habitual poise had utterly fled. Despite his carnal aptitude, it was clear that certain things were outside the realm of his experience.
“Lie on your back,” Jill instructed. “You’re thicker than Rafe, so I think I’d rather have you in my cunny.” She scooted toward the outside edge of the mattress to give him room, then quickly removed her drawers. “This time, at least,” she added mischievously.
Jeremiah made an arousing picture, stretched out with his magnificent prick pointed toward the ceiling. Kneeling, Gillian straddled him and aligned her slit with the pinkish head. She lowered her body just enough to let her lower lips brush over the tip, then tilted her pelvis a few times to coat him with her juices.
The man below her groaned. “Don’t play with me,” he begged. “Take me, before it’s too late.”
She bent to press a brief kiss to Jeremiah’s succulent mouth. “I’m sure you can manage to control yourself,” she told him. As slowly she could manage, inch by careful inch, she let herself sink down, impaling herself on his cock.
After her weeks of chastity, her cunny was tight and almost unbearably sensitive. Jeremiah’s substantial bulk slid across her inner walls, stretching and opening her in the most delicious way imaginable. Her memories of their two previous couplings were not in error. The fit was perfect, filling her to the hilt and stimulating every nerve, without the slightest hint of pain.
“Oh, God, Jill! I can’t believe how good you feel.” He grasped her hips and arched up, burying himself more deeply.
Gillian clenched her cunt-muscles around his shaft. Jeremiah’s cock swelled and shuddered inside her. “Don’t move yet,” she said. “And please, don’t spend. I want us all to come together.” She flopped onto her hands and knees, her face close enough to Jeremiah’s for her to claim another quick kiss, then looked over her shoulder at Rafe.
“You know what to do, my dear.”
The wiry journeyman nodded. “Do you have anything I can use for lubricant?” he asked.
Gillian considered the question. Why hadn’t she visited the kitchen after dinner? She shook her head, annoyed that she hadn’t prepared more carefully for this evening. “I’m sorry.”
“Never mind.” He flashed her an angelic smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”
She let her head fall onto Jeremiah’s chest in order to elevate her arse. His skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat. She could hear the Jamaican’s heartbeat, fast and regular. She could feel the same pulse in the cock embedded in her quim. She sensed his tension, the near-irresistible desire to thrust, but he managed to remain still.
Thank you, she thought. Thank you both.
The Journeyman’s Trial, The Toymakers Guild Book 2
Although set in the Victorian era, the denizens of Randerley Hall are thoroughly modern in the enthusiastic and open way they embrace their sexuality, pushing boundaries with the same vigor and gusto they push the boundaries of science. The members of The Guild embrace all manner of delightfully kinky perversions, while making scientific breakthroughs that are far ahead of their time. “The Journeyman’s Trial” has everything—adventure, romance, intrigue, and sizzling sensuality. I highly recommend you take the plunge and dive in. ~ Lawrence Westerman, Amazon
The Master’s Mark, The Toymakers Guild Book 3
… an excellent example of lusty yet tasteful erotica with an engaging plot and characters the reader actually cares about. The richly crafted steampunk setting, the chemistry between the characters, and the lusty passion heating up every page all come together in this breathtaking finale of the Toymakers series. ~ Michael Swanson, Amazon
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh