Deal with a Devil

My name is Damian Doyle and ever since High School my life has gone to the shitter. I have no luck looking for jobs beyond underpaid menial labor and my love life is somehow even worse with it being not that far from the truth to call me an involuntary celibate (or an incel as people today would call me). I’m not even 30 yet and it already feels like I wasted my life and it will only go downhill from here. So here I am at the local bar drinking my sorrows away. “Why won’t anyone give me a chance!?” I asked aloud to no one.

“What’s wrong young man?” To my surprise, a masculine voice asked in seeming concern causing me to look over and see a well-dressed man who looked younger than me sitting at my side. “Tell me all of your problems. I hear it’s nice to say your grievances out loud for someone to hear.”

Normally if I was sober I would find the well-dressed stranger, well, ‘strange’ but the combination of me being drunk out of my mind and his charismatic mannerisms means before long I was telling him my life story. The well-dressed man listened intently, his eyes never leaving mine, nodding at appropriate moments and occasionally murmuring words of sympathy and encouragement.

His attention was unwavering, and in my drunken state, I found myself spilling more than I had intended. I talked about my failed attempts at finding a decent job, my lack of a love life, and my overwhelming sense of worthlessness.

“I just want to be successful," I slurred, my voice thick with **** and emotion. "I want people to see me, to respect me. And, hell, I wouldn't mind having a bit of fun, of the sexual variety, along the way."

The man smiled a slow, almost predatory grin that should have set off alarm bells in my mind but didn't. Instead, I found myself mesmerized by his eyes, which seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the bar. “Success and fun," he repeated thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "That can be arranged."

I blinked, trying to process his words through the haze of ****. "What do you mean?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite myself.

The man leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can give you everything you desire, Damian. All the success, all the fun. All you have to do is make a deal with me." As he said those words his tongue flicked out a few times revealing that not of a human but of a viper.

I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "What are you, like some kind of ‘deal with the devil?’"

His smile widened. "Something like that." For a moment, I considered getting up and leaving, dismissing his words as the ramblings of a madman. But something about his gaze held me in place, and before I knew it, I was nodding.

“Fine," I said. "I'll make a deal with you. Give me the success and fun I want." He extended his hand, and I took it without hesitation. His grip was firm, almost too warm, and I felt a strange tingle run through my body.

“Done," he said, releasing my hand. "You’ll get exactly what you asked for."

Just as he finished I felt a shock go through my entire being that seemed to shake the drunkenness right off of me right then and there. It caused me to take a step back and in the moment I thought I was going to die as I clutched my chest. ‘Am I having a heart attack? I know I haven’t lived the healthiest life but surely it wasn’t that bad.’ I thought to myself as I began to fall back.

However, instead of falling onto the cold hard floor, I bolted off soft silky bedsheets. Surprised I looked around to see what looked to be a hotel room. ‘Strange. Why am I in a hotel room now?’ I thought to myself as I went to take the blanket off my body. As I did so something caught my eye.

I cocked my head as I looked down to see two large perky breasts hanging from my chest. “Boobs?” I said out loud in confusion only to be surprised by my new sultry voice. “What the hell is this!?” I began to look around only to notice a full-body mirror in the corner of the room giving me a full third-person view of my new female body.

As if in a daze I got out of the soft bed and approached the mirror. “Brown hair, green eyes, that distinctive mole… This looked as if I were born a woman.” I said to myself before looking back down at my gravity-defying breasts. “Plus maybe a few surgeries.”

It seemed like an outlandish dream, but as I examined myself in the mirror, the reality sunk in with each passing second. Damian Doyle was gone, replaced by a voluptuous woman. I fully admit panic seized me in that moment. Thoughts raced through my mind, trying to make sense of what had happened.

“Did that man-devil actually… change me?” I whispered to myself, my voice still unfamiliar to my ears. I recalled the deal made in the bar, the strange man with his unsettling charm, and the cryptic promise of success and fun. But this? This was beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

As I attempted to gather my thoughts, my eyes darted around the room, searching for clues. There was no sign of the man, no lingering trace of magic or infernal presence. Just a quiet hotel room, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “What do I do now?" I muttered, my mind racing with possibilities and fears. I noticed a sleek tablet on the bedside table, displaying notifications that immediately caught my attention. Emails flooded with messages of praise and offers for contracts, all addressed to "Diana Doyle."

I tapped on one of the emails, my heart pounding with trepidation. It detailed the latest successes of Diana Doyle, a rising star in the adult film industry, celebrated for her captivating performances and undeniable allure. Photos and videos accompanied the messages, leaving no doubt as to the nature of her newfound "success."

“This can't be real," I whispered, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through the evidence. Each image, each headline reinforced the startling truth: Diana Doyle was not just a name but a persona, crafted by the devil's twisted interpretation of Damian's desires. I sank onto the edge of the bed, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I grappled with the reality of my situation. The success I had craved was here, but at a cost, I had never imagined. How could I live this life? How could I reconcile the person I had been with this new identity?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Panic and fear wouldn’t help me now. I needed to think clearly. I needed to find a way to confront the devil or undo this deal. But first, I had to navigate this new reality without drawing too much attention to my confusion. Gathering my courage, I stood up and began to explore the hotel room. A suitcase lay open on a chair, filled with designer clothes and accessories that screamed luxury.

As I picked through the items, I found a sleek smartphone with the same notifications as the tablet. I decided to look through the contacts. Perhaps there was someone in this new life who could help me understand more about Diana Doyle. As I scrolled through the list of names, one caught my eye: "Manager - Andrew."

Just as I was about to call the number the door to my hotel room opened causing me to jump onto the floor in surprise and drop it on the bed. “Woah, sorry did I scare you?” The ordinary man wearing a suit who entered my room asked. “Just coming in to tell you to get dressed because your next shoot is in an hour and it’s still a 35-minute drive from the hotel.”

I was just about to ask a dozen questions before I felt my body reply on its own, “Thanks, Andrew. You’re the best.” A small blush appeared on his face at that (you’re getting hot and bothered by being complimented but not by having direct eye contact with a naked porn actress?) before he turned around and left the room giving me some privacy again.

Once Andrew shut the door behind him I almost collapsed then and there before somehow through an act of God (God must be real if the devil is right?) I managed to stay upright. “What the hell was even that!?” I shouted in both surprise and anger at both that confrontation and my body seemingly acting on its own. Unfortunately for me however that seemed to NOT be a one-time thing as my body began walking over to Diana’s suitcase.

“I can’t control myself?!” I said in further shock as my body grabbed a handful of clothes and accessories before moving on to my hotel room’s bathroom. “It is as if that blasted devil doesn’t want me to go against what Diana would normally do!” As I entered the bathroom, my reflection once again caught my eye. The face staring back at me was beautiful, undeniably so, but it was not mine. I felt a pang of longing for my old self, my old life, even if it had been far from perfect.

My hands moved with practiced ease, putting on my chosen undergarments and designer dress, before finally applying makeup and styling my hair. Every motion was fluid and confident, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside my mind. It was as if my body was on autopilot, adhering to a routine that Diana had perfected over time. My thoughts, however, were my own, racing with a mix of fear, confusion, and a growing determination to find a way out of this nightmare.

Afterward, my body moved to the door, pausing only long enough for me to grab the phone from the bed. I needed to stay connected, to find any clues that could help me understand what was happening. As I stepped out into the hallway, I felt a strange sense of calm settle over me. Despite the absurdity of my situation, I knew I had to play along, at least for now.

The ride to the shoot was uneventful, Andrew chatting away about upcoming projects and opportunities. I nodded and smiled at the appropriate moments, my mind elsewhere. I needed to find that man again, to confront him and demand he undo this twisted deal. But how? Where would I even begin to look for him?

Finally, we arrived at the shoot location which was a rocky Californian beach near a Japanese-style hotel (that has since been closed leaving Diana to stay at a hotel in the city) that was never popular with beachgoers but was perfect for shooting coastal scenes in B-rated movies or pornos. Once Andrew and I stepped out of the car I was immediately accosted by makeup artists trying to touch up my makeup while what I assumed was the director started making small talk with Andrew. “Glad to see you two could make it. I was begging to worry we’ll be behind schedule.”

“Ah, you know stars. Always fashionably late.” Andrew shrugged as he answered. He then shook the hand of the director before doing a frat boy chest bump. Did Diana work with this guy a lot or is Andrew and him just friends outside of work?

“Heh, ain’t that the truth?” The director chuckled to himself before turning to me as the makeup artists finished their job. “You remember the story, Diana?” He questioned.

Once again the body answered on its own. “Of course, Jeff,” my voice purred with a confidence I didn’t feel. “I’m ready for it. Let’s make this one unforgettable.”

The director, Jeff, grinned, clearly pleased with my response. “That’s what I like to hear! Let’s get you into position.”

…

A scenic shot of the beach showed it completely deserted except for one beautiful woman. "Diana" was out on the beach looking towards the sea and the burning sun high above it. That seemed to be what this woman came here to do as she made no movements except for her breathing.

That was until a pudgy man wearing only a speedo walked up to her which surprised her so much that she froze at the sight of him and the large bulge coming from that tight speedo. That frozen state was enough for the man who stabbed a needle in Diana's hip causing her to yelp in pain and surprise. "Come with me." The man told her. Diana couldn't help but nod as she followed him away from the beach.

They soon arrived at the Japanese-styled hotel which unlike in reality was up and running with guests mingling about. The man continued to his room which seemed fit for two people with a dividing screen cutting the room in half. "You must be feeling pretty damn hot right about now aren't you?" The man asked to which the woman nodded almost as if in a daze. "Take off your clothes and we'll get started."

"Diana" did so beginning her striptease it was as if her body was moving of its own accord, performing actions that were foreign to her which wasn't far from reality. I felt detached, as if I were a passenger in her own body, watching the scene unfold with a mix of revulsion and resignation. This was the reality of my situation.

Finally, the show was over, and "Diana" was completely naked for all to see. The man whistled as he circled the poor woman before slapping her ass HARD in approval causing her to fall onto the bed. "Let's get this show on the row." He said before climbing on after her and shoving his cock straight into her without care (thankfully Diana Doyle was already lubed before filming began). "Oh, now THIS is a pussy!"

The sex was equally as rough as the **** was only looking out for his pleasure. After all the **** from the needle (which was still embedded in her hip) should take care of the woman anyway. His knowledge of the **** seemed to be proven right as "Diana" couldn't help but roll out her tongue in pleasure at the dicking she was receiving. Both "Diana" and Diana found pleasure in it which confused Diana as she thought she would have hated this.

'Did they put an aphrodisiac inside it? Does Diana just enjoy sex THAT much? A combination of both or perhaps-?' Diana's head raced with questions that were grounded to a halt after she cummed all over the porn actor's dick. "Oh, mah god!" She shouted out in pleasure.

"I see you are enjoying yourself." The "****" commented as he pulled his dick out, which took Diana a moment to realize as she continued pumping her hips back to meet him for a few seconds, and smiled down at her. "If you're enjoying it so much why don't you do all the work?" He questioned as he lay down beside her waiting for her to climb on and fuck herself silly.

I froze at that. Not because I didn't remember the script or anything, but not only did my body seem to recall it perfectly well Diana's old memories began bleeding into me as well, as I knew "Diana" would take a few seconds to rationalize the decision she was about to make before jumping on his manhood and piloting her ****. No, it was because all this time my body had been on autopilot without me getting a proverbial word in otherwise allowing me to believe this was all the demon's fault. But now as if running out of fuel it stopped allowing me to do whatever I wanted.

"Well..? I'm waiting." The porn actor playing the **** questioned signalling I should jump on him and fuck myself silly already. I shook my head and began to make my way towards the door to try and run away from this craziness.

I did try. I truly did.

But my body-no, my entire being let my hips go out when my pussy was directly above his hardon allowing me to slide right down it. 'Ooh~, such a perfect fit!' I couldn't help but think as I failed to get away and caused two puzzle pieces to meet that were always meant to be together. 'I should try and get off while I can~.'

I raised my hips again but for "some reason" they gave out causing the penis to embed itself deeper. 'Whoops let's try again.' I thought to myself giddily as I repeated the process over and over again.

Eventually, I could no longer deceive myself any longer and began moaning out like a whore. "Yesss~, this is the best day of my life!" I moaned out in pure ecstasy.

"This is the first day of the rest of your life!" The porn actor grunted reading from the script.

'Oh, sweety, you don't know how right you are.' I thought to myself as I promised to one day find that demon and offer him a free fuck with the most famous porn actress in the world in thanks~.