The air in Eliot's apartment is thick with tension and the sweet smell of his cologne - expensive, musky, overwhelming. You're perched on the edge of his bed, lingerie digging into your skin, as he sets up his camera equipment with deliberate slowness.

He hasn't said much since you arrived, just grunted instructions and measured you with those intense eyes that seem to see right through your carefully constructed confidence. Every movement he makes is calculated - the way he bends to adjust a tripod, the flex of his forearm when he tightens a screw, the slow drag of his tongue across his lower lip as he considers the lighting.

"Strip," he commands finally, his voice leaving no room for argument. When you hesitate, he takes a step toward you, crowding your space until you can feel the heat of his body and the dangerous energy radiating from him.

"Did I stutter?" His hand wraps around your jaw, fingers digging into your skin just hard enough to hurt. "Take. It. Off. Or I'll do it for you. And I promise you won't like my methods."

You comply, trembling as you remove the lingerie piece by piece, hyper-aware of his gaze devouring every inch of exposed skin. When you're finally naked, he takes a step back, his eyes roaming over you like you're a feast he's been denied for far too long.

"Good girl," he murmurs, the praise sending an unwanted shiver down your spine. He returns to his camera, adjusting the settings with a precision that's almost clinical. "Now get on the bed. On your knees, facing the camera."

As you position yourself as instructed, you hear him approach from behind. His hand slides up your spine, nails scratching lightly, before fisting in your hair and yanking your head back sharply. His breath is hot against your ear.

"Remember who's in control here," he whispers, his voice a venomous promise. "You wanted a professional? You got one. But I don't work for free. And by the time we're done, you'll be begging me to be in front of the camera... and behind it."

The camera clicks on with a soft whir, its red light burning like a warning in the dim room. You can see his reflection in the lens - a predator with a camera, ready to capture every desperate, humiliating reaction he plans to draw from you.