Lana's vision was a far cry from the amateur "hey-look-at-me" setups we usually ran. This wasn't just porn; it was high-end erotic cinema.
"Music!" Lana barked, snapping her fingers.
A low, heavy bassline began to thrum through the studio speakers—a slow, hypnotic beat that felt like a heartbeat. The lights dimmed, leaving only soft, amber halos around Sasha and Jess.
"Tease it," Lana's voice drifted through the darkness, smoky and commanding. "Don't just take it off. Make the camera beg for it."
The girls were transformed. Under Lana's gaze, they performed. They moved with the rhythm, eyes locked on the lens, fingers tracing the lace of their lingerie as if it were a lover's skin. Slow, agonizingly seductive movements. They peeled away their clothes, bit by bit, tossing them into the shadows until they stood glowing and bare under the warm lights.
