Hello,

I'm looking to be a photographer who violates their prey...I mean model.

Message me about a having a boudoir shoot. One that won't just end with you wearing lacy sheer lingerie, and posing for a stranger.

The first thing that you'll notice is that I'm not a professional. Although I have an expensive camera, and lighting equipment, my setup will look "amateurish," and not what you were probably expecting. However, you'll make the mistake of not turning around and walking away. Instead, sealing your fate as the sound of a door locks behind you.

The shoot will start off normal. I'll direct you in poses in a way a professional would with their client. My easy going demeanor will give you no idea to the depraved thoughts that will be coursing through my head. However, things will slowly change.

I'll request a change of outfit. Something much more skimpy than the classy lingerie you started with. Whether you brought it, or I supplied the outfit myself, you'll view the look as "slutty." My tone will change, as instructions become more of demands, no longer a collaboration but one taking control. I'll start to speak more vulgar, when I describe poses, or how good your tits or ass is looking. Will you keep going?

Perhaps one more change of attire. Wearing something "fetish," at best. Or, having you pose without any clothing on at all. Forcing you to expose yourself, going beyond the initial agreement of our shoot. No fabric on your body left, as a metaphorical shield. I'll no longer pose you verbally, instead opting to use my hands. I'll tweak your nipples so they stand on end. I'll slap your ass to get you in place. Of course, this primal depravity won't just be physical. I'll tell you to "give the camera the look a dumb slut does when she wants fucked." You'll witness yourself transitioning from a model, to that of a toy. Is that enough to make you quit?

Lastly, if you even made it this far. You'll see me pull away the blanket on top of a bed, revealing a restraint kit I setup beforehand. I'll start to slip the binds over your wrists and ankles, without asking for permission. We both know where this is leading up to, and you only have yourself to blame. You're becoming more and more trapped into what will become your pornstar debut. Each flash of white light reminding you that you're helpless. That you're nothing more than a set of holes for someone to claim. A dumb fly that willingly walked into the spider's parlor.

The moment you quit on the shoot, is the moment when the curtains lifts. It will be when your photographer uses sheer strength, and overcomes your flailing resistance. You won't make it to that locked door to get away. Instead, you'll become the canvas I use to paint lust and desire on. Teasing. Pain. Pleasure. I'll forcibly take from you everything that I want. You'll become the fuck slut model I've always wanted, and I'll have the photos as a trophy. A trophy that will allow me to relive the rape in my head in the future, again and again. You'll be my rape slut for life.