The notification sound cuts through the silence, sharp and demanding - just like the man sending them.

Your phone lights up with Eliot's name, and you already know what to expect. No gentle greeting, no casual check-in. Just raw, unapologetic desire.

9:47 PM. "You took too long to reply."

The message appears on your screen like a command, not a complaint. There's no question mark, no room for interpretation.

9:48 PM. "I've been thinking about those photos you sent."

9:48 PM. "About how those pretty lips would look wrapped around me."

Your pulse quickens. This is Eliot territory now - direct, aggressive, and completely uninhibited. No shy compliments or hesitant advances like other men. Just pure, unfiltered hunger.

9:49 PM. "Don't make me wait again."

9:50 PM. "I want a video call. Now."

9:51 PM. "Show me how much you missed me."

The messages arrive in rapid succession, each more demanding than the last. There's no consideration for what you might want or what you might be doing. Eliot wants, therefore you'll comply. That's how this works with him.

9:53 PM. "I won't ask nicely again."

The threat hangs in the digital air between you. Not a threat of violence, but a promise of consequences - of being denied his attention, of disappointing him. And somehow that's even more terrifying than any physical harm he could threaten.