“Oh, this isn’t a camera,” the photographer said, pointing the camera at directly at Tammi’s naked tits and clicking the shutter. Tammi made sure to give him her biggest, brightest smile as she stared directly into the lens, trying not to let her growing confusion show. But in the back of her head, she kept turning the words over and over, worrying away at them like a dog with a bone. This was a photo shoot–a very fun, very sexy photo shoot. How could they be doing a photo shoot without a camera?

“It looks like a camera,” the photographer continued, clicking the shutter again as Tammi fondled her breasts and let her thumbs rest tantalizingly close to her nipples, “but that’s just camouflage. It’s so much easier to get the necessary exposure when a woman thinks you’re just taking pictures of her. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?” Tammi didn’t know exactly how ‘exposure’ worked–she wasn’t an expert in photography or anything–but he sounded so smart and confident that Tammi found her head bobbing up and down in agreement anyway.

“Take you, for instance,” the photographer mused, snapping photo after photo of Tammi shimmying out of her panties and waggling her ass at the camera. “If I came up to you and said, ‘Excuse me, miss, but I need to expose a little bit of your bare skin to this low-frequency microwave projector in order to make you susceptible to suggestions,’ you’d probably just run away or smash the projector or something, right?” Tammi didn’t know what a something-or-other projector was, but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so she giggled and nodded along with him.

“But if I say, ‘Oh, it was such a beautiful day that I wanted to get some pictures,’” he went on, the shutter clicking again and again as Tammi spread her pussy lips and rubbed her stiff clit, “you don’t even think twice about it. Or if you do, that second thought’s a little more agreeable than the first one. A little more compliant. You like to be agreeable and compliant, don’t you, slut?” Tammi bobbed her head up and down again, but this time it was mostly because she was imagining herself sucking the photographer’s cock. He was probably right, though. He always was.

“And pretty soon, you’re letting me take close-ups of your face, all those silly thoughts softening into sweet, happy amiability and agreeing that yes, you would make a good model.” Tammi didn’t know who Ami Ability was, but she smiled and nodded at the rest of it. She was a really good model. It was really easy. You just had to get naked and fuck yourself for the camera. “And by the time I get your clothes off so that you can really soak up the full energy of the mind control rays, it already sounds like the best idea in the world. Doesn’t it, fucktoy?”

Tammi nodded vacantly, but her mind wasn’t really on the photographer’s words. She was staring at the bulge in his crotch and thinking about how much better her pussy would feel with a cock inside it. A trickle of drool escaped her lips as her mind slowly subsided beneath the waves of lust and arousal battering it into submission. “I don’t think we need this anymore, do you?” the photographer said, setting down the camera and taking off his pants.

Tammi didn’t know how they could do a photo shoot without a camera. But she didn’t care anymore.

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