Photoshoot
"Yes, that's it! Looking good, gorgeous...gimme a smile..."
The stallion blushed, and a hint of a smile crept up his face as the lights flashed and the shutters clicked. The photographer crouched before him, camera pressed to one eye, snapping as fast as he could.
"You're nailing it, cute thing. Toss that mane a little for me." The stallion did so, and the photographer's finger was a blur. "Fantastic! You're a natural. You sure you've never done this before?"
The stallion giggled and shook his head, the golden highlight of his mane swinging languidly through the air. The photographer stood, taking it in hand and laying it over one side of the horse's face. He regarded the effect with eager eyes. "Wonderful...that's the one..."
More snaps, and more flashes. The stallion turned to one side, and then the other, as instructed. He tucked his arm behind his neck, and he held one finger to his lips. The reflections of the flashes in his blue eyes looked like lightning over a cerulean sea. The shutters went [i]click, click, click[/i] - and then they stopped.
"I'll make you a star," the photographer murmured, looking up at the horse with a smouldering expression. "You'll see. You'll be bigger than you ever imagined." A single snap. "Why don't you...lift your shirt for me a little?"
The stallion didn't seem to follow, and the photographer mimed the action on himself. "Go on. It'll look great. A bit of skin. For the ladies, hm?" The horse's hand inched down, and paused for a good while before half-heartedly lifting a couple of centimetres of fabric. The shutters went mad, and the flashes became seizure-inducing. "Yes!" the photographer cried. "That's amazing, handsome, you're perfect, you're marvellous, they're gonna love you in the magazines." Snap, snap, snap. "How about a little more?"
The shirt crept higher and higher, as if each snap of the camera was tugging it upwards, until the horse was holding the rumpled folds against his bared chest. His other arm hung to the side, hand resting just above his crotch, ever so slightly self-conscious. The cameras leered, and made their immutable memories.
"Everyone will know you, stud," the photographer said. "You'll be on every cover, every billboard. The world's gonna be your plaything. You'll love it." The pause that followed was deeply pregnant, and anyone but the stallion could have predicted his next words.
"Let's lower those pants a little, though. Just a bit. To see...how it looks."
------
One of the most gorgeous pieces I've ever received, thanks to FA: TGT1512.
The stallion blushed, and a hint of a smile crept up his face as the lights flashed and the shutters clicked. The photographer crouched before him, camera pressed to one eye, snapping as fast as he could.
"You're nailing it, cute thing. Toss that mane a little for me." The stallion did so, and the photographer's finger was a blur. "Fantastic! You're a natural. You sure you've never done this before?"
The stallion giggled and shook his head, the golden highlight of his mane swinging languidly through the air. The photographer stood, taking it in hand and laying it over one side of the horse's face. He regarded the effect with eager eyes. "Wonderful...that's the one..."
More snaps, and more flashes. The stallion turned to one side, and then the other, as instructed. He tucked his arm behind his neck, and he held one finger to his lips. The reflections of the flashes in his blue eyes looked like lightning over a cerulean sea. The shutters went [i]click, click, click[/i] - and then they stopped.
"I'll make you a star," the photographer murmured, looking up at the horse with a smouldering expression. "You'll see. You'll be bigger than you ever imagined." A single snap. "Why don't you...lift your shirt for me a little?"
The stallion didn't seem to follow, and the photographer mimed the action on himself. "Go on. It'll look great. A bit of skin. For the ladies, hm?" The horse's hand inched down, and paused for a good while before half-heartedly lifting a couple of centimetres of fabric. The shutters went mad, and the flashes became seizure-inducing. "Yes!" the photographer cried. "That's amazing, handsome, you're perfect, you're marvellous, they're gonna love you in the magazines." Snap, snap, snap. "How about a little more?"
The shirt crept higher and higher, as if each snap of the camera was tugging it upwards, until the horse was holding the rumpled folds against his bared chest. His other arm hung to the side, hand resting just above his crotch, ever so slightly self-conscious. The cameras leered, and made their immutable memories.
"Everyone will know you, stud," the photographer said. "You'll be on every cover, every billboard. The world's gonna be your plaything. You'll love it." The pause that followed was deeply pregnant, and anyone but the stallion could have predicted his next words.
"Let's lower those pants a little, though. Just a bit. To see...how it looks."
------
One of the most gorgeous pieces I've ever received, thanks to FA: TGT1512.
5 years ago
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