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Seeking a Model

For Dreixes

By Draconicon

Maurice stood outside the modeling agency with his phone in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. The rabbit looked at the half-busted neon lights that barely glowed above the door and shook his head. After being kicked out of four other modeling agencies for...various reasons, he supposed that this was the place that he should have started. Anywhere with class was just useless to him, particularly for the sort of things that he wanted a model to do.

Still, no reason to step through without some class. Maurice pulled on his suit jacket, pulling the buttons at the front together again, and tucked his paintbrush into the chest pocket as one might have done a pocket watch. His phone went where it was supposed to go, and he slicked his ears back, laying them one over the other until the tips could be tucked into his collar. His tail flicked back and forth just past the edge of his jacket, and his shoes lifted a bit at the polished black tip as he flexed and cracked his toes.

"Showtime," he muttered.

Hopping to the front door, he stepped inside. A dusty lobby waited for him, staffed by one mink standing behind the counter and without anyone waiting for work or an appointment. The chairs, rather than the comfortable, expensive things that he had seen at the other agencies, were little more than folding things, and most of them were laid up against the far wall. A spider-web dangled over the door to the back rooms, and the spider living on it seemed particularly large and well-established, to the point where he genuinely wondered if it had been disturbed on this side of the millennium.

Regardless, he hoped for something. He walked rather than hopped to the counter, keeping his sleeves off the dusty surface to avoid dirtying the deep blue material. The mink looked up, her eyes dazed and bored.

"Yeah, what do you want?" she muttered.

"I was hoping to book a model for my work."

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Whatever."

"...I don't suppose you happen to have someone else that handles those things?"

"Uh-huh."

"...Could you call them?"

"Sure, yeah. Whatever."

Maurice twitched, but managed to disguise it with a sweeping turn. The mink picked up the landline at the desk, dialing someone.

"Boss? Yeah, there's someone up front. Yeah, they're real." The mink narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure. I haven't had the fun stuff yet."

Fun place...

"Yeah, he wants to spend money. Yeah, he can hear me." The mink blinked, pulling the phone from her ear and staring at it for a moment before hanging up. "Fucking piece of shit."

"I'll assume I wasn't meant to hear that," Maurice said.

"Doesn't pay me enough to hide his bullshit."

Like the thunderous charge of a stampede, rapid clip-clops echoed down the hallway. Maurice turned with the faintest of smiles on his face as a zebra thrust himself into the waiting room, panting.

"You!" The zebra pointed his finger at the mink, started to say something, then obviously thought better of it when he turned to Maurice. "...Later. Sir. Welcome to -"

"The Den of Better Days?" the rabbit asked.

"Ah...ah ha...good joke, sir, good joke."

He wasn't joking, but he supposed it didn't matter. He took the waved-arm invitation of the zebra and stepped through the door. Glancing up, he saw the spider dangling from a dislodged strand of web. It almost seemed to be waving an angry leg in their direction.

Not exactly giving me confidence here...

They walked down a hallway that was more reminiscent of a one-story apartment than anything that he had experienced at the other modeling agencies. He filed that way for the moment, focusing more on the possibilities of what he could get. The man in charge - hardly a manager, probably more of a building owner - was chattering away, nervous, but not in a bad way. More in a completely unprepared way.

He gave the zebra a once-over. Any thought of using him for a model went out the window almost immediately. The paunch might have been suitable for another exhibit, but for the one that he had in mind, he needed something younger and fitter. Not muscular, but someone that had a body that knew what it was doing. That, combined with the way that he had a slight limp and an obvious nervousness around someone else told Maurice all that he needed to know about this male.

They walked down to the far end of the building, stopping just short of the back exit to enter an office. Run-down, but in better shape than the front room, it only had dust in the corners rather than everywhere, and no spiders. A chair that looked like it hadn't had a guest for the last few months waited by the desk. The zebra sat down, while Maurice remained standing.

"So, uh, you wanted to buy a model, huh?" the zebra said. "Oh, pardon. I'm -"

"Not what I'm interested in," Maurice said, the rabbit shaking his head. "I'm looking for someone that has some notable flexibility, a great deal of confidence, and few personal hang-ups on what he is willing to do for a customer."

"I...might have a few of those..."

"I'd hope that you had more that were willing to bend their own standards, particularly in an...establishment like this..."

He gestured around him, shaking his head. The zebra flinched slightly, and Maurice adjusted his measure of the man. Not just unprofessional, but weak. Someone that didn't know how to take it, but would find a way to get the money that he wanted.

"Well, uh, it depends on how long you want to buy them for."

"Two weeks."

"Two - oh. Oh. You actually want to -"

"I am not here for a prostitute," Maurice said. "I'm here for a model."

"Yes, yes, of course. I understand. Just let me, um, let me look at my records..."

"Look quickly."

It was not an unfamiliar moment. He had regularly taken charge of things when the actual owner of a business had been less than competent, but this was the first time that the business owner hadn't gotten pissed with him about it. As a matter of fact, the zebra jumped to the task, rustling through his desk drawers and pulling out a dusty binder.

I should find cowards more often.

After striking down two males and a female, he struck gold. Maurice tapped the page, took the key for the model's room, and made his way back down the hallway. His initial assessment of the place as more of an apartment than a modeling agency seemed to be correct; the various 'models' lived here under a slightly cheaper than average rent, had their own rooms, and did little bit jobs for the zebra. Mostly sex, from the sound of things, but the occasional bit of real work, as well.

From the pictures that were in the binder, the buck in question had potential. Not necessarily boundless potential, as one might have hoped for, but enough to make him think that this project could yet be salvaged. He stroked a finger along the paintbrush in his jacket pocket, making his way to room 7.

The key turned easily, and he found the buck on the phone with someone. From the sounds of it, the zebra.

"You're saying he wants me? Well, yeah, I modeled in high school, but -"

"Ahem."

Click.

The buck stood up quickly, and it was immediately clear that some of the photos had been out of date. They had shown a buck in his teens, just past the age of majority. This one was in his early twenties, though he looked like he had been keeping himself in shape. A bit of a sweat smell that implied that his sodium levels were high, probably due to the cheap ramen all over the place, but that was tolerable. He would change the young man's diet when they were working.

"Name?" Maurice asked.

"Uh, Ron."

"Ron. Your boss told you what you need to do for me?"

"He mentioned modeling, but -"

"Yes, that's right."

"Look...I should be straight with ya. I've not done that for five years."

"You'll remember, I'm sure. And it'll be better than the other jobs that he has you doing, I'm also sure."

"..."

"First, however, let me see what I'm working with. Center of the room. Stand, pose for me."

"Any, um, kind of pose?" Ron asked as he made his way from the bed to the middle of the small room. It had little more than a bed, cupboards, a counter with a hot plate and microwave, and a curtain covering a toilet on the far side of the room, but it was enough to take up all but a small square of space in the middle of the room. "Right here?"

"Yes. There. And any sort of poses that you think that you can hold properly. Erotic or otherwise."

Ron's cheeks burned, but he did as he was told. The tight t-shirt was mildly sweat-stained, but not in too bad a way. He had been surprised, so hadn't been able to get into his pants, but the boxers were a good touch. A little in the way, and they showed that he had a fair bit going on in the front, but certainly not bad.

Long legs, limber arms. The sort of look that one would expect from someone that did modeling. The movements from pose to pose - flexing, mostly, but also showing some pouting weakness and soft allure - were a little bit shaky, but they were there. Professionalism did shine through with this one.

Not completely, of course. There were weak points, and the time away from proper modeling work meant that he didn't have the same powerful confidence that Maurice wanted, but that could be re-learned. There was a foundation there, and that foundation would give him what he needed.

"Stop."

The buck stopped right in the middle of shifting from a flex-pose to a more statuesque thing, and it was instant. Good. The young man could listen. Maurice reached into his pocket, pulling out several bills before passing them to the young man.

"Take this. Check into the Grand Globe down on 28th. Take a shower and call me at this number afterward; I'll meet you there for the actual audition."

"...You're kidding me."

"Not even slightly. I want to make sure that we are working with a clean body...and more room..." He glanced around the meager little cell that the buck had been living in. "And you cannot tell me that you don't mind having a better room for the night."

"...Heh. Can't say that I don't want a night out."

"Good. Now. Get to it."

Ron nodded, hustling into his pants. Maurice, satisfied with his choice, made his way back to the zebra's office. He placed another hundred dollar bill down on his desk, and then left without a word.

The Grand Globe was a one-off hotel, something that had tried to be a chain and failed. Despite that, one couldn't question that it had good tastes. The lobby started strong with a grand dome that showed the world spread out on a map, and continued that with various different themes to the rooms that it had.

Ron had been given the Forest Room on the second floor, and that was where Maurice went. The rabbit opened the door to find the buck still drying off from his shower, rubbing one towel between his antlers, the other along his chest. Now that he was clean, he looked much better, and the rabbit smiled.

Yes, you'll do nicely.

"Ahem."

He cleared his throat to announce himself. Rather than jumping this time, Ron looked up and smiled.

"Hey. Glad you made it."

"Yes, I'm sure. Are you ready to start your interview?"

"This isn't one of those porn interviews, right?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Thank fuck."

"You will, however, need to be naked."

"That...heh. Well, as long as I'm not sucking your dick."

That might come later, but not yet.

The rabbit smiled as the towel came down. The young man obviously had a fair bit to be working with, considering that his sac hung low and looked quite full. His shaft was not inconsiderable, though it wasn't so large that it would be the only thing that most people would look at. Long legs led down to hooves that seemed to be in much better shape now that they were properly cleaned.

All in all, a better lower body than he had hoped for. He nodded, sitting on the foot of the bed.

"Tell me, Ron. Have you ever worked with magic before?"

"Not really had a lot of experience with magicians; they're more interested in rabbits, not bucks."

Maurice smiled, shaking his head. It wasn't at all what he meant, but it was an answer, nonetheless. He stood up, walking around his model, taking in what he had to work with. Strong muscle, solid physique. He ran his fingers along the buck's shoulders, then down his back. No flinching there, either, which was another plus, though it also implied something that he wasn't entirely keen on.

Models got used too often in the way that the zebra liked to push it. He imagined that Ron had gotten used that way at least once, and probably still expected something like that.

Maurice wasn't planning on that. He was planning something far more...intricate.

"Ever done anything with interpretive dance?" he asked.

"Does a drunk night out learning cheer routines count?" Ron responded.

"Not really."

"Well, there was that time that they had a dance elective at high school. There was this teacher that went about going through ballroom stuff, but that's as far as I ever got."

"That's fine. Your body will know the movements well enough, then."

That meant that he might not need a full arrangement. He pulled the brush from his pocket, running his fingers over the hairs. Ron cocked his head to the side.

"What's that for?"

"Just a way of testing a few reflexes. Don't mind me."

"Alright. So, uh, why do you want to know about the magic thing, or the dancing?"

"It's part of a project I have going. It doesn't make or break things here, but I want to see how much extra work we have to do."

"Ah...well, I guess that makes sense."

"So, Ron." He dragged the brush along the buck's neck, drawing a little twitch and giggle, but not much. Sensitive, then. He dragged it in a circle, drawing down his spine slowly. "Have you done this for long?"

"Just a bit. Couple months."

"Just a few months?"

"I didn't have a lot of choice. College kicked me out after a drug test. False positive, that kinda thing."

"Roommate smoking, and you picked it up?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

He shook his head. He'd seen that happen before. Someone goes to college on all kinds of promise and potential, never had to work that hard in high school, had their college paid for, but once they were kicked out, that scholarship was gone and so was all that support. Family probably didn't have much to give after that, particularly if he came from a poorer background, and -

Well, the sob stories had a number of different ways they could go. None of his business, that. But it meant that Ron had a good reason to keep moving forward, to work hard, and do what he was told.

That would work well for this project.

He drew another line down and out, surrounding the buck's waist with a belt of paint that was almost invisible. The paint came from the brush itself, and he kept talking to keep Ron from noticing just yet.

"So, when you were modeling..."

"Well, call it that. Most of the time, it was, uh, cam stuff."

"So, you're used to being seen?"

"No live audience anymore, but yeah."

"That's good, that's good."

"Well, not that good. I mean, it's not like I'm used to people staring at my ass, but...at least they're not in the room with me."

Yet.

For all that he had sympathy for someone being whored out, he had little empathy for what he was planning. After all, this was meant to show off something beautiful, and he had quite the beauty here. Ron was a handsome buck, someone that could easily learn to love what he had here.

And besides, what he had in mind was...interactive, yes, but hardly penetrative. This was going to be very different from the buck's day job.

He kept drawing, painting, bringing up different lines along the chest and down his sides. They traced out the lines of abs and the pecs, curling around up to the nipples and drawing a little giggle from the naked buck. Here and there, he drew lines downward, too, swelling around the thighs, curling towards the hooves after supporting the calves. Some curling tendrils worked towards the sac, too, tickling into the little valley between the balls.

He was pushing his luck when he tickled the brush along the shaft, but by then, they were bonding well enough. Ron knew that he didn't have any ill-intent, that they weren't going to fuck right then and there. In fact, the easy intimacy seemed to be helping the buck relax more and more.

Then again, that might have been the brush and the gentle touches, as well, but he wasn't going to question it.

Finally, the designs that he wanted were complete with a final sweep of the brush down between the buck's ass cheeks. He took the brush back, wiped it clean with a handkerchief, and then stepped back.

"Well, I think that you're going to be quite the exhibition for me," Maurice said.

"Yeah, uh, you didn't actually say what that is yet. Mind, uh, telling me now?"

"Oh, yes. Naked dancing."

"What?!"

Ron leaped to his feet...and then kept on leaping, launching almost to the ceiling before coming back down on one hoof, landing with the other stuck out behind him. One might have been surprised to see him maintain that pose, but Maurice wasn't. After all, the paintbrush was already directed at him. As the buck gasped, staring down at the way that he stood, Maurice flicked the brush to the left, and Ron jumped to the other hoof, spinning in the process.

"What the fuck?!"

"You are going to be a dance model for me."

"Oh, god, oh god, oh FUCK what is going on?"

"Nothing that lasts for long. When the two weeks are up, I'll let you loose again, and it will all go back to normal. But first, let's test this a bit further."

Flick, twitch, point. He dragged the paintbrush through the air, and every motion was followed with a quick, jaunty move from the enchanted buck. Ron would leap, or swing, or spin. It was an easy dance to conduct, something that he had practiced with a number of times before on his previous model.

Of course, that one decided that they knew better and tried to swing out with a different move, breaking their leg in the process. They were in the hospital for the next three months due to the broken leg throwing them down the stairs in the same motion, and he had needed to spend some time improving the spell to ensure that it didn't offer someone else the same sort of freedom to screw themselves over.

Maurice took it further, 'conducting' the buck back to the bed. Ron laid back, rolling his legs in the air in a 'floor' dance, showing off his assets. He flicked one leg high, the other low, propping his balls on the lower thigh and letting his shaft hang over the other. He rolled them around, showing off the muscles in his ass, and then brought them down again, throwing himself to his feet.

Through it all, Ron's cheeks burned, but there was something to him that seemed to take to it. Not entirely happily, but he did.

"Mmmph...this is...this is humiliating," he muttered.

"Only because you're making it that way. It can be very liberating."

"You're - mmmph."

"Yes, I'm controlling you. No mistakes. No little wobbles. Just pure beauty," the rabbit said.

"You...think I look that good?"

"I know you do."

"But...but..."

"Consider it a gift. You will look great. I will be seen as brilliant. I do all the work, you get all the credit."

"..."

"And you get to see everyone admire you."

It wasn't that he needed Ron's permission at that point, of course. He could do what he liked. He had already legally gained all the permission that he needed to take Ron to the stage and have him put on a performance.

That didn't mean that he didn't want the buck to like it. The whole point of his work, the whole point of any performative work, was to stir something in others. Some people liked to take the dark stuff and bring fear, horror, or worse. That wasn't his style.

No, he wanted them to be happy. And if he could keep Ron excited, eager, wanting, then that would make the performance that much better. He flicked the brush up, leaving Ron standing on one hoof, the other high in the air. He wiggled it, sending it higher and higher until the buck was doing the splits, his muscles straining and balls dropping a bit further.

"I think that you'll look great."

"Mmmph..."

"Just trust me. A few nights like this, and you'll never need to rely on cam-shows again."

Maurice had filed all the paperwork for a public nude performance, which meant that there were no security guards descending on them when they arrived at the shopping mall. Ron had been dressed out in a reindeer harness for the fun of it, but as soon as they reached the center of the mall, with a designated area painted in yellow in a six-foot-square, the harness came off. The rabbit took it, threw it over his shoulder, and smiled at his model.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No."

"That's fine. That's what I'm here for."

"I can't believe I'm really doing this."

"Might want to start. You already have an audience."

It was a preview, meant to get the interest ready for when he debuted it properly at the theater next week. They'd been working for three days to get this set up properly, to get Ron's body to remember the motions so that it wasn't all down to how Maurice conducted his body. It was far from a complete thing, far from the performance that he really wanted, but it was enough to make sure that he wasn't going to deal with a toppling model if he took his attention away for half a second.

He stepped out of the square, raising the paintbrush in one hand, and holding his phone in the other. Tapping the screen, he got the music playing, and then began to wave his other hand around.

With a trill of flutes, Ron raised one leg, moving almost like a bird rather than a buck. The movement was elegant, a delicate showing of leg and hoof, slow, but steady, gentle, without the jerkiness of someone that didn't know what they were doing. That much was working well. That much was going the way that it was supposed to.

He slowly stepped forward, then charged, right up to the edge of the square, thrusting his chest forward before pulling back. Step, step, step, slow dancing, interpreting the classical music that played through the speakers, his hands moving up to his face, then slowly running down his body, framing his chest, his hips, his ass.

Especially his ass.

The audience that had gathered were blushing, most of them, but they appreciated the artistic eroticism of it. It wasn't an ass-shaking display, but rather something that spoke to the sensuality of the body, of the way that it was natural and right to have these feelings, this exotic appreciation of the erotic form. Nudity might be natural, but so was the excitement that came from seeing someone that way.

He flicked his paintbrush, directing the buck to fall to all fours, a wild thing, one that had a moment to flash his ass to the crowd. It was a moment far more pornographic than erotic, but it transitioned to a crawl, a strain forward as the music did the same. The audience appreciated it, grinning and - in some cases - unable to hide at least a little excitement to the show.

"What form."

"He has to know what he's doing to us."

"He's got to be some well-known name. Take some pictures, google him."

"Wow. That's a...a hell of an ass."

It really was, of course. Not so big and round as one might have expected for someone showing it off so much, but that muscle was an appeal all its own. Nice and tight, never quite showing the pucker between but always coming close, always teasing those around with the possibility of seeing something so naughty. All the more fun for that.

He heard the tempo change, flicking the brush up. Ron rose to his hooves once more, his shaft starting to rise despite itself. That little bit of arousal would have been more than enough to get someone thrown out, normally, but he was enjoying himself, and so was the buck. Not entirely unembarrassedly so, but Ron was still smiling, and that was something that didn't come from the brush's power.

That's it...starting to get it...

Ron swung his arms about, praising the sun in his dance, and every time that he moved, his rising cock did the same. Just a trifle slender but good and long, it held the eye of all those watching, guiding them to stare at it as it spun in place.

Just when it was getting just a little too much, he changed the dance again. The song hit its high-speed climax, turning into a series of kicks and high-jumps, something that showed off the muscle of the buck once more. The rest of the dance pulled the focus back from the erotic crotch and rump, away from the raw muscle appreciation of the nude form, and focused it back on the power of the dancer, a model that knew what they were doing.

By the end of it, he had danced Ron through one hell of a show, and though it had only lasted ten minutes, the buck was a sweaty mess. Maurice lowered the paintbrush, stepping through the barrier and helping Ron to his feet, giving him a towel to wipe his face and do whatever else he wished with it.

"That will be the end of this performance for now. If you want to see it again, you'll have to come around here at 5 PM tonight. After that, we'll have paid performances of the full piece at the local theater next week. Come by if you're interested."

Maurice waved them off, giving Ron a chance to recover. The buck strained to catch his breath, puffing hard. Clearly, they still had work to do, but the fact that he hadn't collapsed as soon as the dance was over was encouraging. He smiled as he patted the other man on the back, helping him stay upright.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah...ah...will be..."

"Good. And the nudity?"

"Not so bad this time."

"Not so bad?"

"..."

"I seemed to see something that showed you were enjoying it."

Ron blushed, looking down and away. Maurice reached in, taking him by the chin and turning him around.

"Talk to me."

"Mmmph..."

"Embarrassment is fine, but remember, I am making you a name here. I need to know what is going through your head."

"...I kinda wanted it to go longer."

"Is that so?"

"...I didn't think I'd like this, okay?"

He nodded. That part made sense. That part was expected. And they were probably going to take this further at a future show.

But for now, they needed to get him some rest. He helped the buck to his hooves, half-carrying him through the mall. It didn't take long for him to notice that Ron was walking a bit slower, almost like he was inviting others to look at him. If it wasn't for the fact that Maurice was having to support all that weight, he would have been proud.

They reached the parking lot, and he helped his model into the car. They'd just gotten settled when Ron's phone started squawking. The buck picked up while Maurice got the car in gear, slowly pulling out.

There was a terse 'hello', followed by some shouting from the other end. The shouting lasted for a total of ten seconds before Ron reared back and threw his phone out the window.

"...Something I should know about?" Maurice asked.

"That zebra. Asking for rent, trying to set me up with another client."

"...Ah."

"When he can't reach me, he'll probably kick me out, but I don't care. Not anymore."

"And that is because..."

"...Well, I'm hot. I'll figure it out."

Maurice smiled. Small things, at least. Ron would need a longer job, and that meant that he didn't have to pay the middle-man any longer. That worked for him. He turned the car around, taking them back to his place.

It was time for some more, extended fun.

The End

Summary: An artist takes in a model for some fun.

Tags: M/M, Rabbit, Buck, Antlers, Nudity, Exhibitionism, Body Control, Arousal, Teasing, Snooty, Questionable,