Capturing the Moment

Story by Shakal on SoFurry

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A master stonesmith is commissioned to carve a particularly intimate piece, but he'll need reference photos to make sure the work comes out just right.

This story was written for Shakal as part of Jeeves's patreon request days for May. It contains M/M sex between consenting adults, as well as Dom/Sub play, bondage, and orgasm denial. :3


Capturing the Moment It was almost impossible for Henry to believe that he had never seen this house before. Never heard of it before. You didn't do a job like his without researching the kinds of people likely to hire a master stonesmith's skills, and yet in all his years working for folks in this part of the world the draft horse had never once come across a single mention of the Ramforth Manor. There was no doubting its reality of course, he was standing in front of it right now, but that fact only made the whole situation make less sense. Everything he knew told him that he must have heard of this place, quite simply because... well... it was magnificent.

The hall looked like it had been lifted straight out of the English countryside, grounds and all, and yet at the same time as its regal and traditional stonework had been preserved, it looked oddly modern too. The glass in the windows was obviously double glazed at the very least, every pane spotlessly clean. The roof was covered in rows of solar panels, and though there were several chimneys along the length of the hall the brickwork at the very peak of each one was spotless, suggesting that never in their history had they been used.

Before Henry could spend any more time considering the impossibility of never having encountered either pictures or even gossip amongst other craftspeople though, and before he could raise his camera from where it hung around his neck to take some photos to show anyone else, the front door of the hall opened. He hadn't rung the bell, hadn't even ascended the steps which led up from the gravel driveway, yet the door opened and a figure stepped out, looking right at him without a shred of surprise. The jackal was dressed in a beautiful deep red smoking jacket, black trousers, and bore several rather distinctive pieces of golden jewellery. His feet were bare, and he moved with... Henry couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was almost like rather than the figure he was watching moving upon the surface of the world, the world moved beneath him to allow his progress.

"Mr Linnford, right?"

Again the horse shuddered. Again he was confused why he did so. Once more there was just_something_ about the jackal's voice. Even if he'd been asked if his name was something entirely wrong, he felt like he still would have been tempted to agree, or might even have believed for just a moment that maybe he was wrong.

"Yeah, hi. But, please, just call me Henry."

The jackal smiled warmly, moving to stand before the taller horse and reaching out a hand.

"In that case, I insist you call me... Alexander."

The pause lasted for just a moment, and as they shook hands Henry wasn't certain if he'd just imagined it entirely. He tried to put all that almost certainly imagined weirdness behind him though, because given how much money he was being paid for this intensely interesting job... well, quite honestly the jackal and his home could be as eccentric as they wanted, so long as the cheques cashed.

At the jackal's behest Henry followed him inside, eyes widening as they stepped through the heavy oak front doors of the manor and into a front hallway that was simultaneously the most extravagant and minimalist piece of interior design the stonesmith had ever seen. There were barely any furnishings, a single table with a vase standing a short way down the ground floor hall and what looked like a coat-stand without any coats standing by the door. The walls however, carved as they were in some sort of sandstone, must surely have represented hundreds if not thousands of manhours of painstaking work. Pictographs of... everything. Drawings that seemed to display the creation of the world. The creation of reality, not to mention what had come before. The horse's eyes widened. A trickle of spittle began to drool from his muzzle, and it was only when Alexander turned to look at him that the jackal realized his mistake.

"Oops. My bad! Not used to having company."

He didn't do anything. He didn't snap his fingers, or blink, or even seem to focus. One second the walls were a roadmap of creation itself, and then next they were high class wooden paneling between semi-exposed columns of beautifully carved stone.

Henry blinked, trying to remember why he'd been staring, and hurriedly, embarrassingly wiped a trickle of saliva from the base of his chin. He picked up the pace of his steps so as not to fall behind Alexander, and listened as the owner of the house began to chat to him casually about the project for which he had been hired.

"So, I understand you've worked with erotica before. Do you enjoy it, or is it purely a business thing? If you don't mind me asking that is."

The draft horse chuckled. Normally his clients, even the ones commissioning him for a more adult oriented sculpture, were so embarrassed they barely discussed the content themselves. It was refreshing to have the shoe on the other hoof.

"I enjoy all art I'm asked to help create. So long as I can stretch my creative muscle, test myself in some way... and so long as the pay's right, obviously."

Alexander chuckled, seeming to nod approvingly at the honesty of the horse's answer.

"Good. And, for that reason I assume you're also okay with my rather personal request?"

Chuckling softly, Henry nodded.

"You mean the fact that you want to have actual pictures taken of the pose, so I can capture its likeness as closely as possible?"

The jackal nodded back.

"In an ideal world I would gladly stand with my... companion for every session until the sculpture was complete. But unfortunately time isn't infinite here, so I would rapidly find myself with other things to do."

By the time they'd finished that particular burst of conversation, the pair had reached a large wooden door at the end of that hallway. Alexander opened it, and smirked as he gestured for the horse to enter before him only to see Henry pause for just a moment as he once again laid eyes upon what lay beyond this next door of this impossible house.

Kneeling upon a raised plinth in the center of this room, a beautifully lit space with sheets down across the floors and a huge block of black and white speckled marble standing at its center, was a figure. A pure white wolf, resting on his knees with a black metal spreader bar between them, cuffs binding together his wrists and his ankles in a single chain, and with a metallic chastity sheath wrapped around his crotch to encompass both sheath and balls. His mouth was currently occupied by a ball-gag, and despite the chastity in which he was bound Henry could see that his eyes were rolling in what looked to be unbearable pleasure or at the very least extreme, uncontrollable arousal.

Alexander stepped forward, past the horse and towards the plinth. As he approached it, he disrobed. He didn't seem to take his clothes off as much as they seemed to fall off him, but one way or another by the time he arrived at the wolf's side he was both stark naked and fully erect, a thick reddened canid cock protruding from his black furred sheath.

Stroking the white wolf's hair, and teasing for just a moment at the back fastenings of the ball-gag as though tempted to remove them, Alexander murmured to the wolf loud enough that Henry could hear.

"Walpole, say hi to Henry. He's going to take some photos of us, and then he's going to turn those photos into..."

He gestured to the block of marble, then turned back to the wolf with a grin.

"...what was the title we agreed on again? It was 'Putting the Bitch Back in his Place', wasn't it?"

Only then did he release the wolf's ball gag, but much to Henry's surprise the wolf didn't start cursing and growling, though something in his eyes said that there was a part of him who wanted to. Instead, he simply began to beg. To whimper and whine in a manner rather like the title of the sculpture to be suggested.

"P-please... please, An-..."

He paused for the briefest of moments as the jackal glared at him pointedly.

"A-Alexander. Please. If I d-do this... will I get to cum? Please, t-tell me I... tell me I just_might_ get to cum. That's all I ask, j-just... just a little hope. Please."

Alexander smirked, and looked back towards Henry, licking his lips as he took his position before the kneeling wolf.

"Are you ready to start shooting?"

Inside Henry's trousers, his thick erection throbbed hungrily as if to answer the question. He retained as much professionalism as he could though in spite of his physical state, and grinned as he saw Alexander simply stroke the side of Walpole's cheek, the wolf instantly opening his muzzle wide with tongue lolling out ready to receive what his master had to provide.

In went the jackal's cock. Deeper, deeper, deeper still until there was nothing left visible to the outside world but a notable lump in the wolf's throat. Alexander peered down lustily at Walpole. Walpole peered up in frantic, uncontrolled desperation at Alexander... and as Henry began to take photos of the pair, watching and blushing as Alexander slowly began to face-fuck the wolf, he thought of coming back here day after day, week after week for the next few months in order to work on this substantial project.

He grinned as he began to photograph the scene, shots of the pair's position as a whole and then many, many more detailed focus shots of particular portions of anatomy, of expressions upon their faces, and notes of tension in their body's muscles.

If this was any indication of the work environment here, this was going to be an exceptionally fun project indeed.

By Jeeves