Date: Wed, 22 Nov 2006 16:53:57 EST
From: Paennael
Subject: Damion's Fire - Chapter 1

WARNING: Contains adult material. Do not view if you are under the legal
age in your state.

If you would like to comment or make suggestions on the story, please do so
at my blog: gayeroticawriter.blogspot.com.

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.