The Art of Seduction (Part 2)

4 mins read

During our meal, she opened herself up to me for examination and gently urged me to do the same. I recalled filling out the questionnaire for Sir all those years ago, but this time no one was writing anything down, and we were answering the same questions, albeit from different points of view.

“Will you beg?”
“Yes. Will that please you?”
“Very much so.”
“Will you gag me?”
“Only as punishment. Will you accept that?”
“If I’ve misbehaved, yes, of course.”

And then, after the last of the wine was poured…

“Are you an exhibitionist?” 

How was she doing that? We’d met mere hours ago, and she was tapping into pieces of me that were so dormant, I thought I might never feel those stirrings ever again.

I shifted in my chair, uncrossing and re-crossing my legs.

“...I used to be… it’s been, um… a long time.”

Gently, she took my hand across the table.

“You’re adorable when you get nervous.”

Her touch both electrified me and helped put me at ease.  

“Was… um… is there something you want to see?”

Her touch remained tender, but her grin was downright sinful.

“Your right breast. Until I tell you I’ve seen enough.”

A familiar warmth spread through me, one I hadn’t felt in a long time. No matter how many other kinds of sexual adventures I had, nothing ever turned me on like obeying someone’s orders, following instructions, and being led down the delicious and irresistible path of submission.

I adjusted my body slightly, so my torso faced away from the semi-crowded cafe and toward her and the wall instead. Reaching up slowly, I took hold of the neckline of my dress and started to pull it down…

“Can I get you anything else this evening?”

Our server startled me so much I jumped in my seat. My date didn’t bother to hide her amusement, but grinned up at the server and said, “Just the check, please.”

Then she turned back to me and waited.

My face flushed from almost getting caught, I took hold of my dress again and while my date watched, I pulled down until my breast was fully exposed. The look in her eyes went from hungry to ravenous. She drank me in, sitting across from her, doing her bidding so easily and willingly… and she held me there, pinned by her gaze… she wasn’t even touching me, but my body didn’t seem to know the difference. Her look filled me with fire… 

I knew right then that I would do anything for her.

“That’s enough.” With a satisfied grin, she sat back in her chair. I covered myself and bit my lip, but nothing could stop the smile that took over me.


Outside, she offered me her arm, like a gentleman. I hooked mine through hers, and instantly felt a sense of safety and security wash over me.

This must’ve been part of her plan, because she launched into a series of small but crucial orders of business. She told me her address, and suggested I text it to one or two of my closest friends. She insisted I include her full name, so they would know who I was with. I’d taken all of these precautions on my own during other dates, but I’d never been with someone who was so conscientious on my behalf. It made me want to yield to her in every way.

“What’s your safe word?”

I’d only shared this level of intimacy twice before, and I always felt a little bashful answering this question. Somehow it seemed silly, but I’d chose it all those years ago and it stuck, so, silly or not, it was mine.

“Raspberry.”

There was that irresistible grin again. She stopped walking and pulled my body against hers.

“That may be the most adorable safe word I’ve ever heard.”

And then she was kissing me, one hand in my hair, tugging not-so-gently, and the other sliding down the length of my body, from my neck… collarbone… cleavage… waist… hips… to my ass, where she grabbed and squeezed until I moaned into her… 

Taking hold of me, she pulled me back into the alcove of a closed storefront. Pressing her body against mine, she lifted my arms over my head, then held both of my wrists in one of her hands, pinning me to the wall.

She teased me with her lips and tongue, mercilessly. A lick of my lips, a nip at my neck… and every time I tried to reach out with my mouth to kiss her or reciprocate, she’d pull back with the cockiest smile, watching me struggle to get to her.

Slamming into me, her teeth found my cleavage. She bit and sucked so hard that I cried out, making her pull back and shake her head at me.

“Shh…” she instructed, and glanced out at the street. I’d definitely drawn the attention of some passersby. I resolved to stay quiet, not knowing how much trouble we would get in for public indecency in Granada. 

Leaning in, she nibbled my earlobe, making my knees go weak… then her free hand traveled down… down… under my skirt, up between my legs.

“Spread them for me.”

Goddamnit, her voice was so sexy. I obeyed at once, giving her fingers unrestricted access to me. She slipped them under my panties and pushed the fabric out of the way, until my thong was pulled down just below my ass. Then she spread my lips and moaned.

“Mmm…” she murmured against me, “you are so fucking wet…”

Of course I was... I’d given up on ever finding this kind of connection again, let alone with someone so irresistible… and after exposing myself in the restaurant, and now being restrained in a not-so-secret doorway while she toyed with me… and jesus christ, she smelled so so so good… 

I struggled to bite back my moaning, but her expert hands were making it extremely difficult. She played with my clit, slowly, torturously… taking her sweet time and making my whole body ache with wanting… 

Her lips brushed my ear.

“Tonight, I’m just going to fuck you. If you want to play… really play. If you want to be ruled by me…  you’ll have to come back for more. Is that understood?”

Eva Monroe is a gal’s gal, guy’s gal, gal about town. She has a very active imagination and lots of opinions and frequently writes those things down. From screenplays to news articles to academic essays, Eva loves taking on the challenge of writing in new mediums, and her smut-tastic adventures with Bellesa are some of the most fun she’s ever had. Eva also co-produced two award-winning short films and has an MFA in screenwriting. Eva Monroe is not her real name.