WARNING: Contains adult material. Do not view if you are under the legal age in your state.
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Copyright 2006 Paennael
Damion waited outside the auditioner's door.
He felt hot, and he was constantly moving, shifting from one foot to the other. Finally, the door opened. A tall, smiling man greeted him. "Come on in," he beckoned.
The room was small. A desk at one side, and a platform up on the other. The man motioned to Damion to stand on the platform, and he sat behind the desk, putting on a pair of glasses and pulling out some forms.
"Now, what is your name?" the man prompted.
"Damion, uhh..., Johnson," Damion replied.
"Ah, yes. Damion." The man smiled at him. "Well, Damion. Do your thing."
Damion hesitated. "Umm, sir... if you don't mind." Damion pulled a CD out of his pocket.
The man laughed. "Sure thing." He held out his hand for the CD.
Damion turned around and bent his head while the man turned the CD on. The room began to vibrate with the beat of the drums. Damion stomped his heel, trying to get into the groove of the music. On cue, he spun around.
There was the man looking straight at him. For a split second, Damion faltered, but he soon got back into the beat.
Damion tried to smile as he swung his hips to the music, but all he could manage was a little crooked half-smile. He tried to take his mind off the man. He started to lift his sweater, a kind of teaser, then let it back down. The music rocked, and he slapped his hands on his thighs, outlining his crotch.
He bucked his hips back and forth. The music kicked, and he knew it was time to really start. Just as he rehearsed, he crossed his arms and grabbed his sweater. Slowly, while circling his hips in lustful movements, he lifted the shirt up over his head, and tossed it aside.
The man was watching him intently. Damion's light blue undershirt clung to his well- formed chest. He turned around, slapped his hands on his butt, and circled it in time with the music.
When he turned around, he found the man was still smiling. Damion figured this was a good sign and kept going. Slowly, he undid his belt buckle, wrapping it around his back and massaging his butt with it before tossing it to the side.
To his surprise and delight, the man leaned back in his chair and took his hands off the desk. Damion didn't need to contemplate what he was doing; it was a good sign.
Finally getting into it, Damion loosened his undershirt from his jeans. He pulled the front up over his head so that the shirt was stretched behind his back, held by his shoulders. Now Damion could really show off his body. He gently caressed his six-pack, massaging his chest. He watched as the man's arm jerked.
Slowly and deliberately, Damion undid the button on his pants and pulled down the zipper. He turned around and bent over, swaying as he pulled his pants off. He turned around and threw them off to the side. Damion danced for all he was worth, in nothing but a skimpy pair of boxers. He smiled at the man, undulating his body to the music, lustily swaying from side to side. The man was falling for him, and Damion knew it. He smirked to himself.
He danced for about another thirty seconds like that, teasing the man, showing a little, but not as much as he knew the man wanted to see. That was for the grand finale. The music reached the last chorus, and Damion was ready to turn the heat up all the way.
He hooked his thumbs in his boxers, swaying his hips, bouncing with the music. Slowly, he bent down, pulling his boxers to the floor. Carefully, he covered his cock with his hand and stood up, kicking his boxers off his ankles. He turned around and put his hands on his butt, shaking it in time with the music.
Just as the music was about to wrap itself up, he turned around, showing the man his full body. The man gasped, and from the way his arm was jerking up and down, Damion could tell he liked the show. With a bang, the music ended.
The man clapped and jumped to his feet, aparently unaware that his pants were still undone and his penis was flopping out. Damion couldn't help smiling and laughing.
"Excellent show, Damion. Excellent show!" The man strode out from behind his desk and clasped hands with Damion. "You were amazing, you really were. You showed such confidence and your body is so tight!" The man stroked Damion's chest, fondling his nipples.
"Well," he clasped Damion on the shoulders. "You start tomorrow. Be here at 9 o'clock a.m. sharp for your first photoshoot."
Damion pulled his boxers back on and picked up his clothes. As he walked out of the room, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "By the way," said the man, handing him a card. "If you need a few extra bucks." The man winked. Damion smiled at him and walked out of the room.
Down the hall stood the dressing room.
Damion shuffled in, locking the door behind him. He sighed. Success. It was...nice. He looked at the card and memorized the number. He knew he'd need it soon. He looked down at the clothes in his hands. He didn't need them anymore. He took off his boxers and shoved them all into the trash can. Just to be polite, he unlocked the door. Then, he vanished.
Not really vanished, but lost his form. He became a meer shimmer in the air, something you might catch out of the corner of your eye, but you would never see it if you were looking for it.
He wafted through the walls, being immaterial, and floated over the city below. Cars rushed by on the streets below, the city was full of life. People bustled about on the streets, like ants on a macadam maze with walls of steel and glass. Each walked on their way, quickly, with a purpose.
`Humans,' thought Damion. Always with something to do. Deadlines to meet, people to see, places to go. To busy to see what was right in front of their faces.
Damion was a demon. He didn't know many others, he had only met another demon a few years ago in an orphanage, where he posed as a human to build himself a life in this world. Now that he was old enough, by their standards he was around twenty, but age was immaterial to demons, he lived on his own. Living on his own required money, thus he found a job. Maybe the porn industry wasn't the most reputable by human standards, but he didn't care. Besides, the particular agency he was working with allowed him to be paid under the table, without requiring the unhappy burden of social security cards and birth certificates. Since he had neither, porn was the job for him.
It's not like it was a difficult job he was choosing. He had the power to take on any form he wanted, and a handsome human boy wasn't too difficult to imitate. In fact, upon receiving the job, he was pretty proud of himself. He did it the straight way, no magic.
Outside the borders of the city, Damion found a grassy hill, devoid of people whatsoever, and overlooking the hustle and bustle. On the top of this hill he took form again, the form of the twenty-year-old that he used to get his job. Sitting there, unclothed, he looked out over the city, and his heart filled with pain.
Humans ruled, and they had for thousands of years, while his people had to pose as humans in order to survive. Consequently, it was difficult to tell who was a demon and who wasn't. On top of that, demons weren't the only suppressed people in history. Wizards, elves, and many other "mythical" creatures had lived in hiding for many years. Some, like wizards and demons, chose to blend in to human society. Others, such as the elves, chose to hide away in the woods and other unpopulated areas. So, it was hard to tell who was a demon, that is, unless you happened to shake hands with one. When a demon and a human touch, it feels as normal, but when the essences of two demons mix, there is an electric sensation that passes between the two of them. Damion entertained dreams that one day demons would not have to hide from humans. And he would make it happen.
Demons do not die on their own; they have to be killed. Damion intended to use his unusual life span to make a few changes in the world. But not now. Now he would play by their game, earn money keep a home, and then, when the time was right, he would band together the demons and take the humans by surprise.
Damion stood up and stretched, his nude form glowing in the sunlight. With a snap of his fingers, he was wearing clothes again. It was time to find somewhere to stay for the night.
The next day Damion showed up in the studio, he tried to look as much the part as possible. Using a little creativity and some help from a few magazines he found in a run-down shop, he used his magic to make a tight blue shirt, denim jeans, and a black belt.
It was very busy when he arrived. Judging from the uneven paint on the walls, he wasn't working for the richest company in the industry. But that didn't bother him. He was just starting out, and so were they. He felt that they shared the need for a rise to the top, yet, if he progressed farther than the company, he was sure to drop them and move on.
The photographer, unsurprisingly, was the same man that interviewed him the day before.
"Good, you're here," said the man, thrusting a pile of clothes into Damion's arms. "Go change, and meet me right back here." He pushed Damion on his way.
Damion was a little startled, nevertheless, he assumed it was part of the business.
He changed quickly, and went back to see the man.
"Okay." The man pushed open the door and ushered Damion into the room. It was bare except for a little stage and a camera, and practically everything was white. All that was on the stage was a small barstool.
"Now, do as I say, when I say it. This shoot today will be a test run. We have to hurry because I have another model coming in half an hour. We'll only do 15 photos for your first shoot. Are you ready?" Damion nodded. "Good, then go sit on that barstool, and give me an easy smile."
Heart pounding, Damion rushed to comply. He watched as the photographer ducked down behind the camera in front of him. "Smile," the man reminded him, and a huge flash lit up the stage.
"Good," said the man. "Good start. Now, stand behind the stool, lean on it, grab your hands on the side." Damion did.
"No, like this." The man came up and moved Damion's hands to the sides of the stool, and lifted Damion's chin up. He took a step back.
"Good, hold it, just like that." He ran back behind the camera and snapped the next shot.
"Now, it's time to get rid of that shirt. Start easy, just come to the front of the stage, stand naturally, and lift your shirt a little, show that six-pack."
Damion quickly got into the pose, and the camera snapped again.
"Okay, now take it off, but just hold it in your hands, about chest level."
The camera snapped.
"Lower it, no, never mind. Hold it in one hand off to the side, your left hand. Now look off to your right at the door, as if someone's coming in to the room and you want to see who it is. Good."
The camera snapped.
"Throw it off to the side. Okay, hold on to that belt buckle, as if you're about to take it off, but don't take it off yet." He paused. "Lean back a little, just slightly. Good."
The camera snapped.
"Okay, now for something a little bit different. Get up on the stool, and slip your hand down your pants. Give me a naughty smile."
Damion complied, and the camera snapped.
"Belt off. Okay, get down and turn around. Lean down over the stool, let's see that butt fill those jeans, there we go."
The camera snapped.
"Turn around, unbutton them, and sit back up on the stool."
The camera snapped.
"Pull those things down, just so we can see that thong."
The camera snapped.
"Get rid of the pants. Okay, wow, you have a nice body. Anyway, stand at the front, and smile naturally." Damion was starting to get into it. He was feeling the rhythm of the shoot.
The camera snapped.
"Okay, now for the finale. Take `em off, and go stand behind the stool. Position yourself so that the seat of the stool hides your cock." Damion bent down a little behind the stool.
The camera snapped.
"Great, now come out in front, but cover your cock with your hand. Give me an innocent smile." Damion did. "Wait, too innocent, too overdone. Make it a little more natural, there you go."
The camera snapped.
"Here we go, two more. Take the hand away, stand naturally, smile. Look like a natural, rugged man, can you give me that?" Damion did.
The camera snapped.
"Now, get up on the stool. Sit naturally. Come on big boy, flaunt it off, this is the big picture, do it right."
The camera snapped.
"Good, great job, come here." Damion sighed and got down off the stool. He walked over to the man who turned around the camera to show Damion the last shot.
Damion was surprised. He actually did look great. His dark brown hair fell naturally almost to his eyes, with the little curl out at the bottom. His dark eyes glistened, and his fair skin was smooth, outlining the strong chest muscles that made his torso. Everything was natural, his penis erect, circumcised, his legs spread enough to show everything, but still looked relaxed. Damion felt a warmth in him, a sense of pride in the beautiful body he had created.
"Now," said the photographer. "This was just a trial shoot, something to put in your portfolio. I've got another quick project for you right away. Your costume is in the dressing room."
Damion opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the answer to his question. A young man walked through the door, no older than twenty-two. He was gorgeous. He had brown, short hair, thin sideburns, and stubble on his chin. Blue eyes that gazed upon Damion, capturing him, and, of course, enough muscle to fill out his clothes nicely.
"Ah, there he is. Damion, this is Jake. That is your next assignment. As soon as you're changed and the set is ready, you're going to do your first sex scene."
This completely shocked Damion, his eyes widened. Nevertheless, it was his job. Politely, Damion went to shake Jake's hand. A burning sensation filled his arm. He hissed and looked at Jake. Jake was no human. He was a demon.