In this prompt, we will explore an intimate encounter between a photographer, her boyfriend, and a female model they did not work with before. I will write the couple, and I am looking for a co-author to take control of their adventurous new partner. While the boyfriend will play the more prominent part as far as physical contact is concerned, the photographer is still my protagonist, and I will tell my part of the story over her shoulder, rather than his. For the most part, he serves as a tool she uses to play with this new woman in their lives.

Theme: This story deals with concepts of power exchange, soft dominance, and introductions to D/s-dynamics. The latter is optional, but I found that it works really well with this setup. I also want to highlight that they do not pressure the model into intimacy. Any advances they make only happen after the job is done, and I highly prefer versions of this narrative where our heroine is excited by the prospect of experimenting with them. Polite and consent-conscious behavior is a hard requirement here, peer pressure, blackmail, or anything dubious a strict limit.

Progression: While all of this is obviously up for discussion, what I envisioned would follow a structure like this: After our character introductions and once they have met for the solo portion of the ad campaign they are shooting, our proper back-and-forth starts when the two models start working together as instructed by the photographer. They can flirt, tease each other a little, but should ultimately stay professional. Once they have taken all the photos the client wants, they can experiment a little, be a bit more daring - still nothing sexual or inappropriate, but some nudity might be involved - basically just shots and poses that could be used for perfume or fashion campaigns without raising eyebrows, but that the brand did not outright ask for.

After that, once the photographer feels like the model might be interested in something more intimate and sensual, she might ask her if she'd want to try on an outfit from her own collection. As they put that on, she can ask her model the question - whether she would be interested in following instructions beyond the scope of professionalism, the footage obviously not to be released.

Again, none of this is set in stone and I simplified it a lot, but I found that it is helpful to have some structure ahead of time just so we know what kind of dynamic we are writing towards.

Required kinks: Body worship, public play, FM, an interest in following orders, oral, setting up safewords, asking for consent, outfit play, slow undressing

Optional Kinks: Collar/leash play, light bondage, oil play, forced orgasm, light choking (blood flow regulation, as it's meant to be, not airflow reduction), cumplay/snowballing, hair pulling, rough sex, slow sex, hydro erotica (sex in a pool), pierced men, CFNF, CMNF, D/s-play

Below is an intro to my two characters, establishing the setup and their personalities. I firmly believe that erotica is a lot more rewarding if we care about our characters. Hopefully, this intro helps us with that.

When you reach out to me, please do not write an intro like this for your heroine - I would prefer to discuss some details with you first. Tell me about how your kinks relate to mine, what you would want to add, what kind of heroine you'd see yourself playing and why this prompt excites you. Anything beyond that is a bonus, of course :) Oh, and I like using visual references. I got some in mind, but I also like to see what you would envision here.

Fingernails scratched over skin, zigzagging along the inked paths below. At this point in time, Alexandra knew them all. Lock her in a room with a sharpie and a mannequin, and she could have replicated every piece that adorned Theodore's body. It would have taken her a few hours, and the lines wouldn't be nearly as precise, sure - but she would get it done. Fact of the matter was, she tried something like that before. As her palm rested on his chest, she closed her eyes. A smile curled up, that memory returned. They had been here, in her bed. A blindfold wrapped around her head, so silky-smooth and hardly necessary: If he told her to keep her eyes shut, she needed no accessories to follow his wishes, his commands, his desires.
"We spent hours on that", Alexandra whispered, a thumb toying with the stud of his nipple piercing. Theodore's breath cut through the room as she twisted it a little, but he was in no position to resist. While his girlfriend continued her reminiscence, his eyes traveled up his arms. Ropes. Tight around his wrists, his hands were forced against the headboard. Not that he would have stopped otherwise. This was her moment, not his.
"You made me kiss every inch of your body. God, I think that's when I knew I'd love you forever. I can still feel it, actually. Your fingers entangled in my hair, pushing me around."
"And you could name every tattoo. Your mind never ceased to amaze me, love. How long ago was that? Two years?"
"Something like that", the brunette nodded. Another twist, another sharp breath, a kiss, so fleeting, to apologize. Alexandra was not sorry, Theodore was not mad. She did it anyway, trailing a path of sweet little nothings down over his abdomen. If she tried that tattoo-guessing challenge again, this part would have been easy. A single grimace stretched over his stomach, she had dubbed it the 'Indian vampire goddess' when she had first seen it. She lapped against the tattoo's tongue, gave her partner a wink before she descended further.

For a few minutes, only his moans filled the penthouse. Tattoos danced over his muscles whenever he tensed up - Alexandra watched. She took it all in, as always, every motion of his, every moment of bliss that she offered him. Her tongue lapped over the piercing at his base, her fingers crawled over his thighs.
They both knew it would not end like this. It never did when it was her moment. Alexandra never held the reigns until the end. She stopped before Theodore could fall over the edge. Licked her lips, crawled back up to thim. Lips to his temple while delicate fingers unraveled his ties.
"Your moment, Baby", she whispered, a kiss on his earlobe. The ropes pulled away. Now she was his.

"They sent a follow-up."
"Who did?"
"Agence Imaginaire. Sent us some portfolios, and a photo of the set. Take a look."
Theodore handed Alexandra his phone. She laid on her stomach, bare as she had been for the last two hours. Just like his, her body was covered in sweat, that beautiful afterglow of a successful session. Her hair still a mess, he felt a bit guilty. While she read the e-mail, Theodore hopped off the bed - if only to fetch a hair brush. Alexandra read on, flicked through the photos the perfume brand had sent them, the softest sigh escaping her as Theodore began to treat her hair.
"Did you look at the models yet?"
"No. Figured you'd want to do that first."
A chuckle from Alexandra. She clicked the link. The portfolio of a gorgeous woman popped up on her screen. They both knew her, had seen her on the runway before. "Pretty. You like her too, right?" Alexandra's boyfriend didn't respond at first. He was occupied with her hair, pulling the brush through with careful motions. No desire to hurt her, not after their session, not after his moment.
"She would be great for the gig. Not sure if she'd be right for us, though. Pretty sure she's dating some soccer player from Europe."
Silence. Instagram opened. The model's name put in.
"Damn it. You two would have looked amazing together. Maybe some other time. Athletes are fickle partners."
Theodore only chuckled. Done with her hair, he put the brush aside, instead letting his palms wander over her shoulders. She had certainly earned herself a massage after all he put her through after being handed the reigns. A thankful purr his reward, her eyes slipped over to the mirror across from the bed. There, Alexandra's gaze met Theodore's. He caught her. His lips formed a wide grin. As always, the artist in her heart had won. She was observing, even now as she would have to be her own subject. Eyes wandered over his muscular arms as he worked his fingers into her sore body. Soon, her phone was an afterthought, all her attention on their shared reflection. That was what she lived for, after all.

An observer. That's who she was, that's why she dropped out of her agency at the height of her modeling career. Became a photographer, a fashion designer. Only two years later, the couple was atop the industry. She could choose the models, herself, a set budget just a ballpark, not a commitment - the brands trusted her judgment. Theodore was her eternal muse, present in every project she shot. The women he shared these campaigns with? Always different. Always another. Always stunning, always exactly his type, her type, their type.
"Let's do it the other way around. Is there any girl you've always wanted us to be with? Have them invite her. You're Alexandra Sage, she won't turn down that opportunity."
He was right, Alexandra knew that. And there was someone. Beyond beautiful, a handful years younger than the two of them. If Victoria's Secret's angles were still a thing, she sure as hell would have been one. Her profile was pulled up quickly. For an hour, the couple scrolled through her feed, fantasizing, thinking, and sharing their desires. They wanted this woman.
Surely, she would find she wanted them too.