Misc. Erotica Sinful Seduction

Throughout the rest of our lunch, Alice kept bringing Mark up, worrying about how he would adjust after his father’s passing, or if he was dating. She commented on him so much that I began to grow uncomfortable. On my Uber ride home, I found myself looking over pictures of the two of us from last spring break, when we’d gone on vacation to Bali.

Mark stood nearly the same height as me, and he was slender, making him appear even smaller beside my curvy frame and younger than his nineteen summers. His face was quite handsome, with the kind of chiseled jawline, that make women swoon. His pale green eyes were striking, and whenever he managed to look up from his shoes or the ground and addressed me properly, I was always arrested by their beauty.

Flipping through the pictures, I realized I’d never really taken much notice of Mark in them before. I was always more interested in my own appearance, and if a photo was unflattering, I usually deleted it.

Since his graduation the spring before, we’d become more like roommates who rarely spoke, than stepmom and son. New Haven was a beautiful little college town, and I’d always assumed Mark would start to have more friends and go to parties once he began at Yale, but that wasn’t the case. The boy would come home from classes in the afternoon and bury himself in his room, lost in his studying and video games, until he came out late at night to grouse on food and then disappear again till the morning.

My musing was cut off as the UBER ride pulled before the house. Thanking the driver, I pushed my sunglasses down and stepped out. A wave of emotion swept over me as I took in the gorgeous home with its bright green lawns and colorful beds of flowers. I’d fallen in love with the place the moment I’d laid eyes on it, and after months of pestering my late husband, he’d bought it.

Now I’m going to lose it, I thought to myself, feeling an ache in the pit of my stomach.

The wave of loss I felt might seem silly, but it was a combination of things that all came crashing down on me. Not only had I lost my husband, but now I was about to lose everything else as well. Thinking of Mark, I resolved to do everything possible to save the house for his sake and mine.

An hour later, I was curled up on the couch with my laptop, digging through my late husband's investments to see if there was anything worthwhile there. The idiot man had emptied his 401k a decade before and been drawing from our joint mutual fund accounts for years. If I closed down all the accounts, and after fees and taxes, I might be able to cover half of the first debt payment. I was just googling what I could get if I sold my car when an email notification popped up and I clicked it without thinking.

From: [email protected]
To: Heather Paulson
Re: Audition & Interview
Greetings Heather,

Our mutual acquaintance offered you as a potential model for my site. I was wondering if you are free this afternoon or evening for a brief audition and interview. If you are, please sign the attached non-disclosure agreement and forward it back with a time that works for you.

I’m sure it goes without needing to be said, but in the interest of being on the same page: If you forward this email to anyone else, or relay what we speak about, then you will find yourself in litigation.

We eagerly await your response.

Best regards,
The Director

I read the email a second time and then downloaded the attachment. My heart was racing as I signed the electronic document, and despite my better judgment, I felt a thrill shoot down between my legs.

Feeling suddenly nervous, I jumped up and hurried to my bedroom, fitting my AirPods in as I did. Mark was still in class but would be home anytime, and I had no wish for him to catch me doing or saying anything compromising. The thought actually made me giggle, wondering what kind of reaction the shy boy would have if he walked in on me dancing in front of a cam.

Responding to the email, I said I just needed ten minutes to freshen up. Throwing on my favorite top, I made sure its plunging neckline showed off my assets to the best effect. Then I popped in front of my makeup desk and touched up my mascara and eyeliner. After giving my hair a tease and making sure the loose curls hung artfully around my shoulders, I pulled a chair over before the windows.

By the time I sat down and pulled up my laptop, there was a response from The Director, this time with a hyperlink. Feeling butterflies in my stomach, I double-checked my appearance in a mirror and then clicked the link.

The link didn’t have a .com at the end of it. Instead, it had three letters I’d never seen together before. My browser opened and instantly became full screen without any input on my end, then the light of my webcam popped on, without the usual dialog box asking me if it was ok.

I was so disturbed by the dark screen and live webcam that I nearly closed the computer and shoved it aside. Reminding myself that if I didn’t find money soon, Mark and I might be without a home in a couple weeks, I took a firm grip on my nerves and pushed them down, just like when I used to get stage fright in my modeling days; the butterflies faded after slow deep breaths. Just as I was calming down, text scrolled up from the bottom of the screen.

Greetings Heather Paulson and our sorrow for you and your son’s loss.

“Thank you…?” I said, unsure if they could hear me.

We are an exclusive agency that handles customers with particular tastes. We provide our customers with a… peek into their greatest fantasies. We take this work very seriously and, as such, must ensure that our models are of the finest quality and the… experience they undergo, one that is as authentic as possible.

“Ok… but that doesn’t really tell me anything,” I said, feeling very awkward speaking to a black screen with white letters scrolling up it.

You will be given instructions if you’re deemed of suitable beauty. Please set the computer on a higher surface and remove your clothing.

I felt indignant for one second, then remembered working with asshole photographers over the years. Men and women who had seen so many beautiful people they’d become inured to it. They often dealt with talent, just like whoever was on the other end of the chat did, brusque, assuming they were dealing with a foolish model.

I’d already decided that I would do just about anything to save our home, so I stood, pushing down my nerves and set the computer on my dresser. Standing before the webcam, I began to strip down. A wave of shame swept over me, as I pushed my top off my shoulders and shrugged out of it, and a surprising zing of pleasure at knowing I was being watched. Removing my shorts and heels, I paused for one second, half expecting and hoping the scrolling text to say it was enough, but the screen stayed black. Nothing came on the screen, and so with trembling fingers, I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, letting it slide down off my arms, and then pushing down and kicking off my panties quickly.

I stood there, a slight chill causing my large nipples to harden as I shifted nervously from foot to foot. Two words scrolled up the screen, and with a sigh, I followed the instructions, turning around slowly. The experience of having my body judged wasn’t a new one, but it had been many years since the last time, and it was hard not to feel self-conscious when I remembered how I’d looked at twenty-two compared to now.

You are an extraordinarily beautiful woman and perfectly cast for this role.

“Thank you,” I couldn’t help the small smile of pride that found its way onto my lips at the compliment.

Please describe your stepson and your relationship with him.

“Mark?” I asked in surprise, “Why ever would you want to know about him?”

I waited for several seconds, but no response came.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, frustration rising as I stood there naked, feeling like this might all be some joke, “Is this some kind of prank?”

Please check your bank account, Ms. Paulson.

Blinking in surprise, my anger in check for a moment, I reread the text and grabbed my phone, logging into the app. My eyes saw the recent transaction and new balance, but my brain couldn’t comprehend.

“How… why?”

A hundred thousand dollars had been added to my checking account. How they had my bank information made me more than a little nervous, but seeing the money in there, I felt relief rush through me.

If we agree to work with you and you sign the contract, this will be your daily salary, excluding bonuses. If not, the money will be withdrawn. Take this as a sign of our intent and seriousness. Now, please describe both your stepson and your relationship with him.

With a final glance at my bank account balance, I licked my lips and set the phone down. Taking a deep breath, I began.

“Mark is a sweet young man, but a little bit of a nerd,” I winced at that, feeling guilty for admitting the truth, “He’s going to Yale and just finishing up his freshman year. I don’t think he’s decided what he wants to study yet, but he’s passed everything with high marks and could do anything he wants. The boy is brilliant. He was always so sweet to me when I first moved in, making me breakfast in bed, or little presents for Christmas or my birthday. Then he became a teenager and I rarely saw him after that.

“He’s never been a team sports kind of guy. It always drove his father crazy that he didn’t want to play football or baseball, but Mark is smaller, and those sports never suited him. His high school had a dive team, and he found a community of friends there.

“Let’s see… I’m not sure what you want, I can’t really think of anything else. He has curly black hair, green eyes, and is quite fit from diving practice. He’s been depressed since his father passed, and I’ve been worried about him.”

My voice dropped off, and I realized tears were forming in the corners of my eyes. Shaking my head, I blinked them away, realizing how crazy it was to be discussing my stepson and crying, as I stood naked in my room.

“Do you want to see a photo?”

That will not be necessary, Ms. Paulson. Your friend has provided one already.

I would like to offer you a contract and am very excited to get started. If you agree to our terms, a package will arrive tomorrow with items and instructions. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.

“That’s it?” I asked.

Congratulations Ms. Paulson, I and our clients are very excited to see how you perform.

“Perform how? I can’t agree to anything,” I said, marshaling the last of my nerve, “until I know what it is you want from me.”

Our clients wish to see a seduction, Ms. Paulson. As I said, their desires are particular and very… taboo.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the screen flickered, and my desktop appeared, the connection broken. Standing there for several long seconds, I let the words sink in. The questions about my stepson and talk about taboo desires led me to the logical conclusion.​