Paul sat at his desk, a steaming cup of coffee to one side, an overflowing ashtray to the other, and distractedly clicked through the emails that had arrived into his inbox over the course of the weekend. As usual, the messages consisted of demands for payment from corrupt but usefully placed law-enforcement officials, alongside subscription receipts and a few fan letters, most of which were written by correspondents who were apparently in a state of some excitement at the time that they sent their messages. Paul scrolled through them, here and there tapping out a quick response until the only e-mails left unopened were those with attachments. He always left these until last. The little paper clip icons that indicated that photographs had been sent along with the messages meant only one thing. More parents, desperate for cash, had put forward their sons as potential models. Lighting a cigarette with one hand and adjusting the crotch of his trousers with the other, Paul clicked on the first attachment.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, there had been a considerable number of websites featuring naked child models in existence, mostly run by semi-criminal organizations operating out of Russia and Ukraine. Concerted pressure by the international community had long-since forced most of them out of business, their owners moving into adult pornography or out of business altogether. Only a handful had survived the purge and now operated on the fringes of the internet, registered in rouge or corrupt states and hidden behind legitimate-looking fronts, accessible only to those in the know. With friends in high places and staff with the technical know-how to keep one step ahead of the law, Paul’s Boy Blue Studios was one such survivor, and people all around the world were grateful for the fact. Over the years, fans of the genre had paid handsomely to see literally hundreds of boys take off their clothes and Paul had been behind the camera for every one of those photo-shoots. Today, one more boy would be added to the ever-growing list.
Paul knew from long experience that, no matter how beautiful a boy was, an audition was a necessary first-step towards being featured on the site. You never knew how a boy would respond to the situation and Paul had seen the full range of reactions, from tear-stained humiliation to quiet acceptance to little sluts with rock-hard cocks who couldn’t wait to get their underwear down. You could never really predict how an individual boy would react and for Paul that was what made the whole process the most exciting part of what was already a stimulating job. He glanced up at the small, round clock on the wall and watched for a short time as the second-hand slowly ticked its way around the face. Eleven o’clock, show time, was fast approaching.
Weeks before, he hadn’t been expecting much when he had opened the email from a man calling himself, with a revealing lack of imagination, Mr. Jones. The preceding few months had seen something of a drought of new models consequently forcing Paul into using boys who were below his usual standards, outside the typical age range or who had already been featured on the site. As such, he wasn’t exactly bursting with anticipation when he clicked on Mr. Jones’ email. The message had begun with the usual self-justifications, the man at pains to insist that he found the whole thing distasteful and was only submitting an application on behalf of his ten-year-old son because his financial circumstances had left him with few other options. So far, so predictable. But Paul’s interest had perked-up when he read that Mr. Jones’s son, Aaron, not only lived in the same country but in the same town. Even so, it wasn’t until he clicked on the first of the attached sample pictures that he began to become really excited.
The picture was a typical home-shot photograph, slightly blurred and taken by an amateur hand. That hardly mattered though because he could instantly see that Aaron was beautiful. Not just cute, but beautiful. His skin was porcelain-smooth, with the merest hint of a light tan. His hair was dark blonde and swept forward in a modern style so that the fringe on one side lay just above his deep, chocolate-brown eyes. Even at the tender age of ten, Paul guessed that Aaron made more than a few of his female (and male) classmates weak that the knees. Hoping that he had discovered some new talent, at last, Paul replied to the boy’s father, inviting him to bring him to the studio for an audition at the first opportunity. That had been two weeks ago. Now the day was finally here, and Paul intended to enjoy it.
It wasn’t much of a studio, but it served its purpose well enough. A simple white-walled square room with professional lighting and camera equipment, it was accessed via a door to a second room, which served as an office, reception area and nerve center of the business, all at once. It was untidy without quite being chaotic, and it smelt faintly of tobacco smoke, but it was nevertheless the portal through which many boys had passed on their way to internet stardom. Amongst the filing cabinets and computer equipment, Paul had interviewed all of them and afterward watched intently from behind his desk as each cute little boy had removed his clothes to stand naked and exposed in front of him. The pleasure Paul felt had not dimmed over time and his erection at such moments was as robust as it had always been. Today, as the clock moved closer to eleven, he felt his cock twitch at the mere thought of what was to come.
The doorbell sounded at two minutes to the hour, and as it did so, Paul’s heart did an involuntary leap. Stubbing out his half-finished cigarette, he stood, straightened his shirt, flicked a spot of ash from a trouser leg and opened the door.
“Hi, you must be Mr. Jones,” Paul said with a smile, the tiniest hint of playful sarcasm in his voice.
The man, about thirty, with a care-worn face but carefully selected clothes, greeted him back, albeit with a forced smile that lasted a fraction of second and eyes that tried to avoid his. He clutched a handbag that hung over one shoulder and fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket with his free hand. He noticed Paul looking over his shoulder for his son.
“He’s in the car,” he said. “I’ll go and get him in a minute, but I want to make sure of a few things. How long will this last and when will we get paid?”
Paul assured him that he would be getting the agreed amount, in cash right after the audition had ended. He told him that the whole process would take no more than half an hour and if he went for a coffee in town, Aaron would be back with him before he knew it. The man hesitated for a split-second, visibly unsure, before steeling himself at the thought of the wad of cash that was coming his way.
“Okay, I’ll send him up, and I’ll be back at about twenty-five-to.”
He turned and then glanced back as if to say something more. Whatever it was, it remained unsaid, and Paul watched him hurry away along the corridor before disappearing down the stairs. He took a deep breath, his eyes staying fixed on the top of the staircase. A few minutes later, slowly and reluctantly, Aaron emerged and made his way along the corridor.
“Hey there, come in.”
Paul ushered the boy into the office.
“Take a seat, dude,”
He indicated a small, child-sized plastic chair on the far side of the desk. He watched as Aaron sat down and then placed himself in his swivel chair. He allowed himself a few moments to look at the boy properly. The hair was a lighter shade of blonde than the application photograph had suggested but was freshly styled into the same cut. Aaron was dressed in a black t-shirt with a green skateboarding logo and tight, dark blue jeans with a studded black belt and a long silver chain looped out of one of the pockets. The jeans ended just above a pair of battered, green and black skate shoes and between the denim of the jeans and the suede of the sneakers, Paul noticed a hint of black and white striped sock.
Aaron’s downcast eyes fixed on the floor, and his small hands were clasped tightly together in his lap. Inside, his stomach churned, and his heart beat hard and fast.
Paul attempted some small talk but got little response. He had expected this and so got straight down to business.
“You know why you’re here, Aaron?”
The boy nodded.
“You’ll have to look up sometime you know,” Paul said in a friendly but firm voice. He smiled as Aaron lifted his eyes from the carpet and looked across at him.
“So why are you here?” Paul asked. In many ways, this was his favorite part of the whole audition process. There was a pleasure to be had in getting a boy to think about what was about to happen to him.
“I’m going to be a model,” Aaron stated simply. His voice was high-pitched, soft and unbroken.
“Uh-huh,” agreed Paul, “do you know what that will involve?”
Aaron swallowed hard and dropped his eyes to the floor once again, twisting his delicate fingers around each other as he did so.
“Sort of...” he answered eventually.
“Do you want me to tell you?” said Paul.
“Okay, look at me. That’s it. We specialize in taking lots of pictures of boys to sell to men who like looking at that kind of thing.”
Paul kept his language simple; he wanted Aaron to precisely understand what he was getting into.
“All those men will be paying to watch you take off your clothes.”
Aaron had known this already, but his heart still skipped a beat to hear it spelled out in such a stark fashion. He was not a natural exhibitionist, quite the opposite in fact. When changing for swimming and gym lessons at school, Aaron was always sure to keep a towel wrapped around his lower body and on the few occasions when he had had to get naked in front of adults—at the doctor’s, for example—he had always felt acutely embarrassed. He listened as Paul went on.
“Don’t worry. We’re not going to be taking many photos today. First, I have to take a look at you so I can plan things out. Look at me. Aaron looked up at Paul. “You’re an adorable little boy. Why don’t you stand up so I can take a look at you properly?”
Aaron rose from his seat and stood awkwardly in front of Paul, his hands now thrust into the pockets of his skinny jeans. Paul propelled his chair from behind the desk so that he was only a matter of feet away from the boy. His eyes ran up and down the length of Aaron’s slender young body. Paul felt powerful and secure in the knowledge that he would be keeping all his clothes on while poor little Aaron would be forced to strip in front of him. He was looking forward to that with a rising sense of anticipation and an already stiffening cock.
“Take off your t-shirt,” Paul ordered.
Aaron hesitated before reaching down to grasp the bottom of his t-shirt. With a nervous look on his face and eyes turned towards the ceiling he pulled the shirt up, and Paul caught the first glimpse of his taut, smooth stomach, free of hair and showing the slightest suggestion of abdominal muscles. He watched as Aaron pulled the t-shirt over his head, noting the hairless armpits. Aaron discarded it onto the chair behind him.
“Hmm, you have a nice body. Our members are going to love you. Now take off your shoes.”
Aaron sat down, bent over and began to undo the laces. Usually, he just pulled his shoes straight off but this was an opportunity to delay the inevitable, and he made the most of it. This suited Paul just fine, as he sat back in his chair and watched intently. With trembling fingers, Aaron finally worked free the laces of the first shoe and glanced up as he slipped it off his left foot. He could see Paul watching him and knew from the look on the adult’s face that he was enjoying every minute of this. As the shoes were removed, Paul glimpsed the underside of Aaron’s striped socks, first one and then the other. Putting the shoes together to one side, Aaron sat back in his chair, somehow resisting the overwhelming urge to cover his chest with his arms. Paul ordered him to stand up once again.
Aaron felt exposed and vulnerable as he stood before the clothed adult. He smooth skin tingled with anticipation as he struggled to comprehend what was about to happen. In the cool air of the office his nipples stood hard and erect, and he was aware of the denim touch of the waistband of his jeans against his bare waist. Paul sat back and took in the view while enjoying the thought that poor little Aaron was only too aware that he was looking at him. Paul took a deep breath and looked straight into Aaron’s eyes.
“Okay, now we’re going to see what color underpants you’re wearing. Undo your belt and let’s have those jeans all the way off.”
Achingly slowly, Aaron let his hands drop down to his belt. He could feel Paul’s eyes fixed on him as he undid the buckle and slid the belt open. He couldn’t help but look at Paul as he unfastened the button at the top of his jeans before sliding down the zipper. He was more embarrassed now than he ever had been before and felt himself shiver with humiliation as he opened up the front of his jeans to reveal his tight, red, Calvin Klein boxer shorts. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled his jeans down and slipped them off over his feet, first one leg, then the other, glancing up twice in the process to see Paul still watching him intently. Then he stood back up, his arms crossed uselessly in front of him.
Lowering his voice to barely more than a whisper, Paul said, “You are standing there in just your socks and underwear.” Stating the obvious, but Paul wanted Aaron to hear it out loud anyway. “Thousands of people are going to get to see you like that. They will all be enjoying the fact that very soon they will see you naked.” Paul smiled. “What do you think about that?”
Aaron shifted his weight uncomfortably and looked down at himself before looking back up at Paul. His voice trembled as he answered.
“I don’t want everyone to see my prick.”
Paul’s cock throbbed hard in his trousers at the response. It was the one he had been hoping for and was the reason why he loved working with shy, first-time models so much. He could have left it there but where would the fun be in that? Aaron’s delicious embarrassment was almost tangible, and Paul soaked it up, every fiber of his being with pleasure.
“Time to drop your underpants, I’m afraid. I want you to pull them right down and leave them there.”
Aaron blushed, feeling his tanned cheeks turn red. He didn’t want to be nude in front of a clothed adult but knew that it was far too late to turn back now. He inserted his fingers into the waistband of his tight boxers and gripped hard. He could see Paul eagerly staring at his crotch as he did so. Swallowing hard, he pushed down and felt the cotton of his underwear slip over the bare skin of his bottom. Bending over, he slid his boxers all the way down and gradually stood back upright. In an automatic movement that he couldn’t prevent, he cupped both his hands over his prick and balls as he stood in front of Paul with his red underwear hanging loosely around his ankles wearing nothing except his black and white striped socks.
Paul grinned and let out a short, sharp breath. Watching intently, he ordered the boy to move his hands down to his sides. Hesitantly, Aaron complied. His uncut cock was now fully on show, small and hairless, against a pair of tight, smooth balls. He knew that Paul could see everything. Most of all, his prick suddenly felt tiny and exposed in the cool air of the office. The embarrassment was all consuming.
Paul knew he had found his next star. With shaking hands and a rock-hard erection pressing against the inside of his trousers, he lit a cigarette and ordered Aaron to turn around. As the satisfying smoke curled out from between his lips, he took in the curve of Aaron’s smooth, bare little bottom. Soon many, many others would enjoy the same view. Paul was going to enjoy thrusting his camera right up close, capturing every quiver of Aaron’s humiliation.
He could hardly wait.