Preword
Hey guys, it's me, Hydra! I know, it's been a while as my life is going in strange places. As a result, my motivation ebbs and flows, and I recently got a big burst of horny motivation for something new. Perverted photographer, beefy model, why not?
For this one entry, there won't be any major sexual aspects as this is mostly setup, but it'll ramp up.
Just want to say that this is just fantasy, I don't endorse kidnapping, trafficking, or ignoring consent. Always stay informed and safe with your partners, and if any situation feels fishy to you, stay vigilant!
Prologue
The job came from the Task Force command as a note.
`AGENT HENRY DAVIS`
We are directing you to investigate a potential anomalous activity at a civilian photo studio known as “Meridian Portrait Studios,” located at [REDACTED]. Owned by Salm Greenwood. The studio has been linked to a series of disappearances, with a distinct pattern emerging among the victims.
- Victim Profile: The disappearances exclusively target muscular men, primarily military/ex-military personnel, but there have also been mercenaries, assassins, and black ops operatives. Women, children, and men with low muscle mass have not been affected.
- Additionally, those who would fit the profile but came as a part of a group that includes non-targets are not targeted.
- Anomalous Substances: Victims who have been recovered exhibit traces of anomalous substances in their systems. The nature of these substances is currently unknown.
- Previous Investigation: An operative from another unit was sent in but was found delirious upon extraction. The operative's report is inconclusive due to the psychological trauma experienced.
- Your Role: Given your physical profile, military background, and extensive training with Task Force W-13, you are the ideal candidate for this investigation. Your primary objective is to infiltrate the studio, gather intelligence, and determine the extent of the anomalous activity.
- Success Parameters: Secured data regarding Anomaly, Secured data regarding any client rings, successful capture of any important figures, and retained mental stability.
Report to the Unit Captain for more info immediately
It’s a simple request, but they wouldn’t be sending Henry in if it were really as simple as it looked. Orders are orders, but he needs to speak with his Unit Captain for more information. Like a punctual soldier, Henry made his way to the office like he was supposed to.
The Unit Captain’s office was sparse, unlike the fancier command ones. Just a simple metal desk with two chairs, and a filing cabinet filled with enough classified material to ignite multiple international incidents.
No less, once Henry arrived, Captain Mercer closed the door behind him, then leaned against his desk rather than sit behind it. That was never a good sign. It meant he wanted to talk to him, not at him.
And then it began. The conversation style that Davis had grown accustomed to. Only this time, the subject matter was something he wasn’t accustomed to. Mercer would start.
“You read the full briefing?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand why we’re sending you specifically?”
Henry believes he has the answer.
“I fit the profile.”
Mercer sighed lightly.
“You are the profile, Agent Davis,” Mercer said, picking up one of the papers from the desk. “Military background, we don’t need to fabricate, actual combat training against dangerous monsters, and…” Mercer gestured at Henry’s entire body. “…The rest.”
Henry Davis was aware of his body. He spent years trying to become strong in school from a young age. The Military shaped him into a weapon, and then the Umbra Foundation honed that weapon further. Yet now, the body that was a weapon had been turned into bait as a part of the mission parameters. No less, the Briefing continued.
“Let’s get one thing clear. I’m not going to pretend this one isn’t uncomfortable.” Mercer says, showing the photo of the Meridian Photography Studio. “You are walking into a lion’s den of lions designed to hunt men like you. We got the previous operative back…” he paused, remembering something painful. “…He’s currently still on Psychiatric Recovery.”
Henry looked down a moment before assuming his posture again, adding a simple “I read that too.”
“Reading it and sitting across from a guy who can barely think straight are two different things.”
Henry met his captain’s eyes. “I can handle it, sir.”
Mercer studied him for a long moment. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it. He reached behind him and picked up a black duffel bag from the desk, handing it to Henry.
“Your cover wardrobe and story. Sentinel Defense Solutions booked an executive portrait session for their newest hire: You. Wanted portraits and full body photos.”
“Sentinel...” Henry repeated. One of Umbra’s Front Companies. The one who did Private Security Consulting. Clean reputation, legitimate contracts, and a simple way to sneak operatives into sensitive situations. “…They whipped up a file on me?”
“It’s been ready for a while. You’re a recent hire. Military background, transitioning to private sector consulting. Standard corporate onboarding includes professional photography for client-facing materials.” Mercer said mechanically, as if he had done this hundreds of times before. “It’s boring. It's believable. And it gives you a reason to be there that Greenwood can verify if he checks.”
Henry then turned his attention to the bag. It had the following in it:
* A Fitted Charcoal Grey Blazer
* A black collared shirt that would sit well across his body
* Well-cut slacks
Upon going through it, Henry speaks, surprised for once. “This is…”
Mercer finishes for him, “…Flattering? Yeah, but that’s the point. You know how Sentinel makes its brand. ‘Professional but Formidable.’ You need to fit that mold, and you need to fit the mold Greenwood’s searching for. We’re killing two birds here.”
Henry held up the collared shirt. The material was thinner than the shirts he wore day to day as part of Standard Issue uniforms. Tactically useless, but strategically deliberate for who they were going after. He speaks.
“Corporate wants me to show off the Merchandise.”
Mercer adds, “Corporate wants you to sell the part. There’s a difference.”
Mercer’s expression shifts slightly. “Davis. I’m not going to give you a speech. You know what you’re walking into, and what walks out.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m just going to say this once. If it goes sideways, activate that tracker and exfiltrate. Intel may be valuable, but if it costs you your life, pick your life.”
Davis folded the clothes back into the bag. “Understood”
Mercer nodded, pushing off from the desk. He clearly wasn’t going to convince Henry to leave this be, so he might as well trust his operative.
"Good. Get changed. Van leaves in forty. Sentinel's already confirmed the appointment. You're booked for one-thirty under your own name. Less to remember, less to slip up on, and less to draw suspicion.”
Before he left, Henry had one last question.
“The operative we recovered. What did he say? After he was in a position to talk.”
Mercer was quiet for a moment, as if trying to find the right words.
“From what we could get… he could feel every moment changing him into something he didn’t know he could be.”
An ominous note. Silence fills the room. A silence that carries a meaning.
“Dismissed, Davis.”
And with that, Henry was gone.
As Henry stepped into the sleek, modern lobby of Meridian Portrait Studios, he was greeted by a faint scent of fresh paint and an air of pretentious artistry.
“Welcome to Meridian,” a sultry receptionist purred from behind his desk, his eyes glinting with curiosity as they roamed over Henry. “You must be our military man here for photos. Just sign in right here.”
Henry would scribble his signature on the form as he scanned the room, knowing this was an immaculate web of deception. It had yet to show its teeth. Still, he remained stoic, keeping his composure.
The receptionist took the picture and then said calmly, "John Doe is expecting you," as he pointed Henry to a door.
Behind it was a photo studio set up for a headshot with an older man photographer at the camera. He looked like a slightly portly man with a scruffy beard and relatively short hair. Dressed in a sweatshirt, cargo pants, and a belt that already looked slightly loose. And the moment the photographer looked at Henry, there was an unmistakable grin.
This was John Doe. Salm Greenwood. The target.
"Ah! You must be Henry! Come on, we have some incredible ideas for your shoot!" he cheerfully said, beckoning Henry into a world charged with unspoken promises and hidden agendas.
The Main studio looked professional, with a standard photography setup featuring a backdrop, lighting rigs, and a few props. Not much to be concerned about. Yet, there was also a heavy secondary door at the far end with a soundproofed frame. Henry knew that it would be important.
However, Henry had to move forward. Greenwood continued to talk.
"So..." Greenwood said, circling him slowly in a twisted appraisal. "Military, yes? I can always tell. The way you carry yourself and the discipline in posture."
Henry would answer in line with the profile he was given.
"Six years. Army. Recently out."
"And now?"
"Private sector. Security consulting. Need some professional shots for the portfolio."
"Mmmm..." Greenwood nodded slowly, as his eyes explored Henry's frame with an artist's detachment. "You've maintained yourself beautifully. I've seen many veterans let themselves go after service, but you... You understand the value of the form."
Henry would answer, "It pays to stay in shape in my line of work."
And Greenwood enthusiastically agreed, "Oh yes, it does," and then moved to a side table with treats and drinks. "Would you like something to drink? I find clients photograph better when they're relaxed. I have a particular blend, one that's calming, but it doesn't dull those sharp eyes of yours!"
Henry gently raised his hand, "No, thank you. Had a coffee on the way over."
For a moment, he noticed something flicker behind Greenwood's eyes, but it was gone in an instant.
"Of course. Shall we begin with some standard poses? Get a feel for your angles?"
And Henry nodded.
The first twenty minutes were... normal.
Greenwood was genuinely skilled as he directed Henry through poses with quiet confidence, adjusting the angle of his jaw, the set of his shoulders. Professional. Patient.
Almost disarming.
Yet Henry found Greenwood asking multiple questions... ones that were particularly bladed.
"Any family in the area?"
"Do you live alone?"
"How are you finding the transition to civilian life? It can be... Isolating, I imagine."
Henry knew that Greenwood was casing him out, building a profile, trying to see if he would be worthy prey.
Yet Henry had to keep himself up as the bait, giving half-truth answers. Just enough to show the patient photographer that he was worth letting in.
-------
Eventually, the professional shoot wrapped up.
Salm was reviewing shots on his camera, scrolling slowly. Henry stood by the backdrop, jacket removed now, down to a fitted t-shirt per Salm's direction.
"These will serve you well for professional purposes. I'll send it off... But..."
Greenwood looked up; his tone changed to something a bit more sinister.
"I offer a secondary service. For select clients. A more... comprehensive portfolio. The kind that truly captures the complete aesthetic."
Henry looked up upon hearing Salm's tone, recognizing what it was: The jaws of the trap ready to snap.
"What do you mean-?"
Henry said that before he felt multiple arms grab him. Henry's instincts kicked in, but whoever was grabbing him knew how to deal with operatives, even able to hold him.
Henry was carried into the room behind the soundproof door, and then the door shut, moving the mission to its next phase, whether he wanted it or not.
