We met in front of the Café-de-belle-jour on a foggy day of fall. She appeared out of nowhere in my field of view and introduced herself as Mara. At first, I didn’t realize what was going on – I was simply stunned by the little dimples around her nose and by her blue inviting eyes which threw their youthful expectations onto me. She took me out of my enchantment when she threw her curly black hair in the air around her head: “We have an appointment for your position.” My reply was slightly confused: “Hello Mara. You want to apply for the cleaning position?!” – “Yes, sir.” Her smile and the small pits around her lips made me feel comfortable and relaxed. Intermediately, we lost some time in Smalltalk about anything and everything. I waited for a break between her chattering and invited her to come inside with me. It was not a date, or was it? She has replied to my announcement with a full-scale application, which was slightly uncommon, at least. It was apparent that she came from a good family and her final school certificate was perfect. So far we had just exchanged some trivial messages about the basic conditions and it was not clear to me why she wanted this job. She had asked for a meeting in the public sphere before her duties could begin because she felt it was inappropriate to visit a man’s house unfamiliarly. I went one better to suggest a formal interview about her skills and to see if I would feel comfortable with having her in my apartment. Now we were waiting in a line for coffee and I liked the fact that she almost reached my height with the help of her black heels and that our bodies were converging to each other in the waves of the crowds. In front of the golden lit glass case of the café’s goods, she remarked that the cakes look delicious. Grudgingly, I asked her which piece she would like, which made her burst out in excitement rather unexpectedly, pointing childishly on a raspberry tarte. After I placed the order, she volunteered to take the tray to carry our treasures, waiting for my guidance to a table.
I selected a cozy place in the perimeter, which still had some leftovers on it and which looked a little schmutzy, but it was the best table in the room. I sat down and after a little nod, she started to empty the table and made herself comfortable. When she undressed her jacket, I observed the delicate movements of her hands and couldn’t hide my astonishment to see that her violet pullover was stretched to burst by two enormous mounds, even though it was to be expected from her profile picture. I recollected myself and asked her: “Haven’t you forgotten something?” She looked down on herself, looking helpless to me… “Look at the table and remember why you’re here…” – “I should clean the table!?” After a little nod, she took the napkins off the tray and removed the crumbs, looking at me questioning afterward. I don’t know why, but she stirred up a deep desire in me to challenge her, so I added with a smirky smile: “It’s better to wipe the table wet…” I was curious how she would handle this request, and to my delight, she made note she will go to the bathroom to get wet towels. I had expected that everything below her breasts would be quite expanding too, but to my delight what I saw when she rose was that her waist did not bulge out of her pullover. Her legs in the tight black jeans were slim and only her hips were wide. In short: juicy. I kept watching her walking down the stairs and when she turned for the next steps, our eyes met and she quickly lowered her gaze. She was a handful, dressed up as she would interview for a job in consulting, while shining willingness and servitude. I had a strong desire to ravage her on the spot and demean her in the most excruciating ways, but I also liked her gentle smile and kept in mind that her tender and carefree heart is to be treated thoughtfully.
She arrived with a glass of water and some napkins in her hands: “Like this?” I nodded and she started rubbing the table with the moisturized napkins, leaving it all shiny. “You’re quite a handful.” She laughed, slammed her fork into the raspberry tarte, and replied: “You’re very generous.” I grinned and said, “now let me start ravishing my tarte.” So we kept on bantering, her hair swirling around wildly, filling the air with pheromones and laughter. Once she laughed so hard, she spilled some of the tarte on her shirt, so I asked her to wear a napkin as a pinafore. The name of the café was written on the napkin so I started calling her “belle”. She took it as a compliment and agreed to go by this name from now on. When the atmosphere chilled down, I changed the subject to her goals in life and how they fit our situation. She said that she wanted to study psychology and that she wanted to build up some savings.
After a long but comfortable pause where everyone was finishing up their coffee and remaining crumbs, it was time to start: “Let’s get to the official interview. Are you ready belle?” She finished the last crumbs on her plate and acknowledged her readiness. “So, tell me, why do you want the job for cleaning?” She straightened up and replied: “I want to have a contrast to the mind work and work with my body. Also, I like to do something for others, I mean, do something for you, and I enjoy it when things are clean and tidy.” –
”why do you want to work with your body?” – ”I want to get more fit also and lose some weight.” ”Come on, you’re not fat.” – ”just a bit too much.” – ”Let me see.” She rose again and pointed to her upper thighs. ”Here I’m too fat.” – ”Hm hm. Turn around so I can see.” She turned around, stubbing herself a little on the wooden seats. Her upper thighs were indeed a bit bending inside between her legs from what was visible. But her ass was a full delight, round and wide and with a beautiful crack. ”Also my ass is a bit too fat.” Smack! Without thinking, I hit her on her right ass-cheek. Perplexed, she looked at me. ”Never say this about your ass again. It’s wonderful, belle.” She nodded and apologized. While sitting down she was still mumbling to herself: “I can’t believe this, he really slapped my ass. I can’t believe this…”
I took back the charge about the situation and led the discussion back to her interview: “So, when you have something in front of you which is not clean – I mean, what is dirty – then you dislike it?” – “No, it’s more that I just want to improve it. Like with this table, when it was full of classes… I put them away so that we can sit nicely.” – But you did not clean the table.” – “No, but when you told me I did it promptly.” Jake stroked the table with his fingers. “You did a good job here, belle.” – “Thank you.” – “But you didn’t write about any work experience.” – “No, I don’t have any… but I cleaned a lot in the house and my mother taught me everything.” – “In your application, you wrote that you speak french very well. Can you tell me, how is a cleaning lady called in french?!” – “C’est une femme de ménage.” – “Ok, that doesn’t sound nice. How about a maid?” – “Soubrette.“ This was not yet to my liking, and I pressed a little forward: “Hm. And a female servant?” – “Domestique.“ – “That’s also not very nice.” – “You can say for a subordinate: sujette.” – “That’s beautiful! La belle sujette!” She became a little red and asked laughingly: “But you’re not going to call me that? Oh my god!” – “Please write it down on your napkin pinafore.” She hesitated a little and tried her last resistance: “But I don’t have a pen!” Surely I had a pen in my pocket. With toyed-nativity she put her hands openly together to beg me for the pen: “Please Sit, can I have your pen?” I gave her the pen and let her write down her new name ‘La belle sujette’. “This is your new nickname. If you want to have this job you have to accept it.” With a bit of exhaustion in her voice, she finalized the deal: “J’accepte!!”
After the tension was gone, I brought her to the metro. We walked silently, no one knew what to say. Before she jumped in the Waggon, she kissed my cheek swiftly and left me speechless. Have I put her off by my quirks? Did I go too far? Silently, I walked home through the drizzle.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ka04i1/la_belle_sujette_rendezvous_prologue_mf_light_ds