Nicola's Hot Screen Test

Disclaimer: The following story contains naughty scenes and rude words. It's fairly tame, and I'm pretty broad-minded, but the decency laws in most states would require it not be read by persons under 18. Also, if you're offended by adult themes, you should probably leave now. More importantly, this tale features women presented as sexual objects. There is nothing wrong with this as they are only fictional characters. I urge readers, especially young males, to not regard real women in this way.

This work is © 2001 the author. Permission is granted to freely distribute, provided it is not altered in any way.

There is no Nicola. All characters are fictitious. The situations are made-up. This is only a fantasy, so any similarity to real persons and events is pure coincidence.

*****

Nicola peered nervously into the studio. The beautiful Australian starlet had only been in LA a week, and this was to be her first screen test. In one corner of the studio several powerful lights and a camera were crowded around a small set of a living room. Crew members bustled around her.

"Erm, excuse me, I'm here to screen test for a commercial?" A man seated by the camera raised his hand and waved her over, but otherwise didn't look up from the papers he was furiously scribbling on. Nicola nervously approached, her heels clicking across the studio floor. "Hi, my name is Nic-"

"OK, OK we don't have time, must press on. Get her into make- up! Get her into wardrobe!" he gibbered, still not looking at her.

"I've just come from make-up. And I brought my own wardrobe. See?" The man finally looked at up Nicola. She had managed to borrow a designer outfit for her screen test, a low-cut little black dress that showed off her cleavage. The skirt didn't completely cover her thighs, revealing her tanned, bare legs. Nicola's agent had advised her it would be a good idea to show a little skin for the screen test. The man eyed up her exposed body and burst into a grin.

"Aren't you a pretty one! And Australian, too. Well, sweetie, we won't keep you too long. I'm the director, Mr. Callahan. Why don't you go and arrange yourself on that couch over there."

Nicola walked onto the set and laid down on the couch. Her dress, not designed for lying down in, rode up revealing even more of her.

The director bawled instructions to the crew, most of them incomprehensible to Nicola. As quickly as the scramble started it stopped, as everyone concentrated on their task. Mr. Callahan called to her. "OK, honey, I want you to tell us your name and her measurements."

Nicola put on her sweetest smile and looked into the camera. "My name is Nicola, and I'm originally from Melbourne Australia. I'm 20 years old, 5 foot 9, and my measurements are 38-25-35."

"Someone give her the product and a script." A sheet of paper was thrust into one hand and a small bottle into the other. The 'script' was just two words: "Harvé. Wicked." The small glass bottle was full of red liquid and labelled 'Harvé.' Nicola wondered what it was. A liqueur? A perfume?

"OK, Nicola," the director called out to her, "When I call 'action', I want you to say your line as sexy as possible. Really sell it to me."

Nicola nodded. She took a breath and prepared herself for stardom.

"Action!"

Nicola leant forward on the couch, and in a silky voice murmured, "Har-"

"Cut!" called Mr. Callahan. "I'm sorry Nicola, there's something not quite right here. Can you just lean forward a little more?"

Nicola complied, thrusting her boobs toward the camera. "Yeah, that's good," said the director. "Could you undo a few more buttons on your blouse?" Nicola hesitated. But what harm could it do? She was a model, showing a little cleavage was nothing to her. She undid the buttons, showing a little bit more of her delicious tanned tits.

"OK, reset!" Mr. Callahan called again. "And, action!"

Again Nicola leaned forward. Knowing a bit more of her body was on display, being leered at, helped her performance, and she was just that much more sexy as she whispered, "Harvé-"

"Cut!" Nicola patiently sat back on the sofa as the director talked animatedly to his camera op. They were arguing about something. Finally, Mr. Callahan addressed Nicola. "I'm sorry, there's a problem with your black dress. Light's just falling into it. You'll have to take it off."

"Take it off?" Nicola gasped. "But..."

"Come on, come on," Mr. Callahan demanded. "We haven't got all day. Either we shoot this properly or not at all."

Nicola blushed. "Here's the thing, ysee... I'm not wearing a bra." She'd intended this to be a whisper, but in the big studio it echoed like a shout. Mr. Callahan shrugged. "Look, uh, Nicola, if you do this right, you'll probably get the job. Understand?"

Nicola nodded, she understood. Maybe the light was causing a problem, and maybe it wasn't. What mattered was they wanted her to take her clothes off. Nicola could either stay dressed, and catch the next flight back to Melbourne, or strip and get her career moving forward. It was really no contest.

Nervously, Nicola stood up, and with the crew looking on, she pulled her black dress up and over her head. Shyly, she hugged the garment to her body for a second, and then tossed it aside revealing her beautiful body. Her stomach was lean and smooth, her perky breasts stood proud and firm. Everyone was delighted to see she had no tan lines. Nicola resigned herself to having to put on a show, and went to lie back down on the couch again. Mr. Callahan conferred with his camera op again, and then announced, "You'll have to toss the panties too. We're having the same problem." Nicola blushed furiously, but decided it best not to make a fuss this time. She tried to sound nonchalant and professional as she simply replied "OK." Nicola slid the black french-cut knickers down her smooth legs, baring her neatly trimmed muff for the camera. Mr. Callahan beamed with professional pride. "Yes, that's it! Perfect! Now we can shoot."

The crew reset. Nicola lay on the couch, arranging herself so the camera could catch all of her naked body. Unencumbered, her bare breasts swung gently as she settled herself. The velvet fuzz tickled her nipples. Nicola held up the product, and smiled to her imagined audience.

"Action!"

"Harvé. W-"

During useage the standard 2000 Watt light (often referred to as a "Blonde") can get very hot. So hot in fact that gaffers have to be careful not to put them directly under a sprinkler. Which is what someone had done here. Before Nicola could finish her line, an alarm started blaring. The sprinklers burst into life, spraying water all over the studio. Nicola squealed as the cold water hit her bare skin. Someone yelled "Fire!", and everyone made a rush for the fire exit.

It all happened so fast that the next thing Nicola knew she was standing wet and naked in the parking lot. Blinking at the bright sunlight, Nicola looked around to see she was surrounded by people staring at her, her charms exposed for the delight of all. Some of them were crew who had just evacuated the studio, most were just curious passers-by who had spotted the gorgeous naked starlet and come to get a closer look.

I'll probably see more of this in Hollywood, Nicola thought. Resigned, she smiled and waved to her audience.

END