Seduction is not all about bodies

[Esthalia]

Seduction

What is so attractive about being seduced? Is it that feeling of your heart harboring in your throat? Maybe that cool chill that travels down your spine? We've all been there, falling for someone and feeling that intense heat of desire in our bodies.

"Seduction." It's a common word used in ERP that can make readers, breathless, morally squeamish, giggle like school girls or even offened.
Being seduced does not necessarily mean being bedded, as we see in many books. Having a character become seduced could be for many reasons and by many different ways. Seduction could be within a daring smile, a stunning peice of artwork, or even a masterfully played peice of music. Seduction isn't all about the physical aspects of heart-play, but the visual and emotional as well!

Todays challenge is easy: listen to this sinfully seductive tune and write a scene based off what it makes you think of!

(originally posted in Smutclub)

 

[Prima Fauna]

Current day, late night, modern fantasy.

Jo Lee walks quietly, carefully, and slowly through an old time club in a movie scene. The room is smokey, dark, and has the aesthetics of a successful business. The boys in the club stare every night but know they cannot touch because boss man would have them for his evening kill. And just as she does every night, she will sit in a dark corner smoking a long, thin cigarette as the smoke dances up to disappear in the air above her head. She winks, every now and then to cause trouble for another fella because she craves drama. And every time she gets in trouble, she just talks her way out with a smooth, electrifying voice.

[I hope I did this right. o.o]

 

[Duffy Bracken]

Duffy tilted his glass to the barman, happily engrossed in the moment. The dingy bar, a backstreet watering hole full of seedy men and powerful women thrived with activity. Though the haze of the chatter, and the ablaze of the chatter, the bard watched people come and go. He had forgotten what time it was, or why he was there; neither mattered.

He was entranced.

The woman on the far end of the bar did not make eye contact. She did not need to. Duffy pictured her pupils, green, for mystery, and the retina that likely scintillated with intrigue. She set this angelic image to the backdrop of her long, black, and curly hair, and the lapels of her blouse stitched with threads of quicksilver. She sat half turned away from him, talking to the barman when he passed, running her finger over her glass's edge, and tossing back her hair whenever she laughed it across her gaze.

Her ignorance of him made it impossible to ignore her.

"'Scuse me," he clicked a finger at the barkeep when he finally passed by again. The plucky youth, moustached and waistcoat clad turned on a sharp heel attentively.

"Yes guvnor?" he smiled. The smoke in his lungs petered out and mingled with the smell of bourbon on Duffy's lips.

The bard, whimsically, pointed a finger at the woman. "Do you know who she is?" the matter of fact statement made the barkeep smile.

As the band began to play a slow swing beat, brass instruments ablaze with sultry motion, the barkeep just picked up Duffy's now empty glass, let out a loud belt of laughter, and continued along the bar.

"You'll never know," was all he said as he walked away. He said it as if watching seduction play out it's slow long show was common place when she was around.