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A single strand of saliva slipped through the gag between his teeth, joining the small pool forming at the floor. Julius clenched his maw, biting down at the rubber ball while trying to remain still as to not shake the table laid out across his back. Mr. Godfree had made it clear his tools were to remain steady, and the jackal was not to disappoint.

Despite the football season having finished, and a rather lackluster season overall, Julius still came to 'Le marché de Giton'. Mr. Godfree needed a model, and he proved to be an excellent tutor in exchange for the jackal's assistance. Though some lessons went beyond the academically minded, and well into the night. Often Julius found himself spending the evening at the gallery, sometimes in restrictive gear so as to not ruin his position for reference.

Sometimes for more carnal reasons.

On the surface, Mr. Godfree's tone had not changed. The calico rabbit carried a strict and expecting presence, motivating Julius to excel in his studies as well as in person. His hands and teachings helped mold the undisciplined jackal into the focused specimen balancing tools on his back. Not even daring to look up past the rabbit's marble dust covered shoes when he returned to pick another tool.

"The trouble with marble," Mr. Godfree went on, "Is the time it takes. I can see the image in my head, but I have to fight against my impatience. Else it comes out sloppy." The hammer and chisel clinked away, the sound resounding in Julius's ears. "All art requires patience," Clink, "Time," Clink, "And commitment. There is only one thing that shows that more to me than sculpting." He stepped back, admiring his work from what the jackal could see of his shoes from the corner of his eye. His tongue pushed against the gag, moving involuntarily at the thought of all that white dust across that black leather.

"Tower," He commanded, taking the table off of the jackal's back. Julius slowly straightened his back and rested on his knees, puffing out his chest with his hands at rest on his legs. Before him stood a white marble sculpture, with an athletic body built for running but made to kneel with his legs stretched out and hands resting on them facing upwards. Its head carried the likeness of a jackal, but across its neck, a collar was carved.

A mirror image of him, cage and all.

"I have had many models in my time," The rabbit said, covering his defined muscles with his sports jacket, "And suffice to say, you were not the worst I've had." Julius suppressed the twitch crawling up his spine at the compliment. A model dared not move unless instructed, and he had been given no command that specified it. "If I had but one word to describe our time together, adequate would fit it best."

A single key fell to the floor before Julius. His eyes knew it well, but scarcely believed it until the rabbit spoke, "Sadly, all things must end. You are to graduate soon, free to enter the world as a real man. So go ahead, take it and free yourself. Au revoir."

One solitary blink crossed his eyes as the door closed in the distance. Alone, with his chastity key sitting between him and the sculpture of himself. Only when his knees began to hurt did he take the key, staring at it as if it would tell him all he needed.

It was over. Months of being caged up and serving as Mr. Godfree's model, over just because he was graduating. Julius believed he should be happy, elated even. But he wasn't. He was so lost in empty thoughts that he had not even realized the gag shoved into his mouth until his reflection in the bathroom showed him when fully dressed.

The jackal didn't unlock himself that night. The next day he went to his classes like any other, lost in a mental fog that everyone else diagnosed as senioritis. A melancholy wave hit his heart at the end of his last class, reminding him that he wasn't needed back at 'Le marché de Giton' today, or any day. He spent the afternoon in bed, staring up at his dorm room ceiling, lost in thought.

Was this it? Julius had planned to go pro through college football, but since meeting Mr. Godfree those ideas had dissipated. The jackal had even grown elated when football season ended, letting him head to Darian's galleria earlier. "Fuck," He muttered, feeling his cage squeeze down at his cock. He had the key now, he didn't need to wear it anymore.

Maybe some post-nut clarity would do him some good.

He moaned as his dick touched the air unhindered, finally free of its prison. Closing his eyes, Julius imagined girls from his class, cheerleaders, anything to get his cock going. It stayed soft, despite his physical attempts to bring it up. "Come on...I know you still work," Julius complained, "The fucking cage wouldn't feel so tight if..." It started to chub up. His chest grew lighter as his mind turned back to Mr. Godfree. His strong body hidden away behind expensive suits. His judging demeanor that pushed the jackal to please. His voice...

"Keep going," The mental image ordered, "Slowly. Put on a show." His hips bucked against the bed, slowly humping the air as his hand crawled up and down the shaft. Two fingers rubbed his cockhead, the nerves heightening his moans. Mr. Godfree smiled across the room, one hand holding a paintbrush as if he could paint Julius's movements.

"That's good. Keep at it." Julius bit his lip, nearing the edge already. It'd been too long since he'd touched himself, too long since he'd had an orgasm. He scratched his neck, finger looping around a collar that wasn't there. Mr. Godfree took hold, his hand wrapping around the jackal's neck. Not tight enough to strangle, but to keep him in line.

"Fuck," Julius moaned, "Fuck...fuck...let me cum..." His apparition did not answer, staring down with brown eyes, like a predator watching his prey struggle. No matter how much he begged, how close he got, the jackal couldn't bring himself to orgasm. He could not imagine Mr. Godfree would allow it without his touch.

***

Things didn't get better after graduation. Julius had spent a month drifting listlessly throughout the days, crashing at a friend's place with no motivation for work. He still exercised, keeping a routine despite no dreams to fulfill with it. Beyond that, time blurred on through vacant internet searches for something, anything, to pull him out.

Then came the ad. It caught his eye quickly, but he paid little care until reading it. One quick search and uber ride later, and the jackal found himself at the front gates of an old mansion out by the countryside. One with a vast opening lawn and a cobblestone driveway.

No one worked at the gate, leaving only a box with a button for communication. Swallowing his nerves, Julius took a deep breath and pressed it. Static filled the silence, only broken by the familiar voice. "Yes?"

"M-" He cleared his throat, "Hello, is this the residence of Mr. Godfree?"

"That it is. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" His tone did not convey any joy, just as the jackal remembered.

"Julius. I was your model a month ago."

"I'm not that old," the voice on the other end scoffed, "But I am curious as to why you are here. You graduated did you not? What reason do you have standing out in the summer heat at my home?"

"Well you see, college teaches a lot but they don't teach how to get a job." He laughed at his own joke, but continued despite the silence on the other end, "I, um, I saw your ad for a live-in model, and was wondering if that was still open."

Static answered back. His heart fell. Had he done something wrong? The lump in his throat grew heavier with each second without answer. And then, the gate opened. "Front door." Julius couldn't help but carry a pep in his step as he hurried to the front of the brick layered mansion. It was smaller than he expected, more old money than any megamansion he'd seen advertised by rich folk in the media. Even the oak door carried a refined sense of elegance, feeling like an entirely different world as Julius waited after ringing the doorbell.

Mr. Godfree answered wearing not his signature suit, but a teal bathrobe tied tight around his body, showing more of his subtle muscle than his suits. "I apologize for my appearance. I did not wish to keep you waiting outside." He waved the young man in, "You can sit in the living room, particularly the red chair. It's down the foyer."

"Yes, sir." Julius bit his lip, praying that the rabbit's long ears didn't hear how quickly he fell back into it. Despite the bun's apology of clothing, he did not change. Instead, he followed the jackal to the sitting room, prompting Julius to sway his hips subtly in the hopes to catch his eye. Art pieces decorated his home, from paintings to sculptures, many focusing on the beauty of form. Even as he took his seat near the roaring fireplace, Julius couldn't help but feel he was at Le marché de Giton yet again.

"You should be aware that my artistic drive is sporadic." Mr. Godfree took his seat across from Julius, "So much so that I cannot promise regular hours. It would be more prudent that my model would move in. They would be well compensated for sure, and of course I would offer vacation days."

Julius nodded. "There's also a strict exercise regiment. My models need to stay in shape to match the art I have in mind. This means your diet would be controlled as well, with a cheat day every month. You also will...Actually, forgive my manners, I forgot to ask." Clearing his throat, the rabbit leaned into his chair and looked on with his earthly eyes, "Why do you wish to continue being my model?"

He prepared for the question, it still wrung tight around his neck. Exhaling a hazy breath, the jackal calmed himself and said, "I've been...lost since we stopped. Before you and the models, my dreams were, well, silly." The jackal chuckled, shaking his head at the ludicrous ideas he once had. "I figured I'd go pro after college. But I don't care about the g

ame anymore. And everything else requires so much thought. I miss standing as your muse, as your art piece. And your..." Biting his lip, Julius nearly drew blood before finishing, "Your touch."

Mr. Godfree took a brief moment, an agonizingly long couple of seconds for Julius. "Are you still caged?" He asked. With a nod the rabbit then demanded he strip and stand, watching with keen eyes as the jackal removed his clothes. He stood naked, warmth only by the crackling fireplace to their side.

The rabbit paced around the jackal, footsteps echoing across the wooden floor through the inspection. Julius had seen that gaze so many times, the analyzing artistic view Darian carried. "Have you taken this off?" He asked, finger pressing against the cage.

"Y-Yes, sir."

"How many times?"

"Once."

He turned away, reaching for the set of fire pokers near the wall. From it he grabbed a hickory wood cane. "Why?" The rabbit asked, twirling the cane between his fingers.

"Because..." He gulped, fearful of rejection, "Because I felt if I could cum, my mind would have cleared."

"Did it?" He asked, tapping the cane softly against the underside of the former jock's balls.

Julius shook his head, biting his lip from the dull pain, "I couldn't cum, sir."

"I didn't ask that, but the context is good." His cane tapped the head of the fireplace, "Hands here, ass out." It took everything to keep the jackal's face calm at the command. Quivering fingers braced the masonry, the fire's heat bracing his front with his ass pushed out. "You've done well to keep in shape," The rabbit remarked, dragging his cane across the jackal's ass, "Tail up. Good, good. I should warn you that you would not just be my model, but my canvas. I will mark your body. Nothing I cannot fix, but it will happen if you so choose."

He cracked the thick cane across the jackal's ass to prove a point. Julius clenched his jaw and ground his fingers into the mantle, but he did not move. Neither counted the strikes that followed, but by the end of it the jackal's black tush felt as if it glowed red. "Why couldn't you cum?" Mr. Godfree asked, his free hand groping the sensitive backside.

It took everything to hold back his smile. The pain, the commands, it all felt so right. With a wince and a mewl, Julius confessed. "I couldn't imagine you giving the command, sir." The shame of saying it aloud hit him hard, followed by relief that he no longer carried that burden alone.

"Where is the key?"

"In my right pocket, over there."

The rabbit sifted through Julius's shorts, pulling out the keys and forcing them into the jackal's hand as he was turned around. Now facing the rabbit, his natural scent strong against his nose, Darian wrapped both of his hands over Julius's and said, "Do you swear to be my model, my canvas, my piece of art?"

He nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Do you swear to follow my instructions without complaint? To serve my desires?"

"Yes." His tail wagged excitedly, "Yes, sir."

"Give me the key then." He held out his hand, "Of your own violation. Know that once it is mine, you may never be released, even on your days off. Your erections are mine and mine alone." Julius didn't care. He shoved the key into his master's hand, free from the responsibility and frustration of freedom. Darian smiled, a prideful smirk that shook the jackal's knees. "That's a good boy," He said, grabbing his model's neck, "Now, let's celebrate. March!"

At his command, Julius followed the calico rabbit up the mansion's stairs and into a wide bedroom. Egyptian silk cotton purple met his gaze, and soon his face as the rabbit pushed his stomach against the bed. "This will be the only real uniform you have." Darian pulled a strip of black leather from the dresser, pulling it tight around Julius's neck, "Unless I say otherwise, you wear nothing else. You may only remove this to clean it, and I expect you to keep it clean."

Brushing his fingers against the collar, Julius felt his chest lift in excitement. Darian pulled him close, their fur brushing against one another while his thick cock braced against the jackal's backside. Mr. Godfree crawled down, spreading his model's cheeks apart for his tongue to explore the virginal but stretched pucker. "F-Fuck..." Julius muttered, gasping at the massage of his master's tongue. "Fuck...fuck..."

"I expect you to do this as well." He pulled away and slapped the reddened cheeks. "But today, you have earned such a treat." Cold slime and strong fingers braced against his back hole, pushing and exploring deeper than any of the plugs he'd been given. Julius put up no resistance, relaxing his ass thanks to the rabbit's additions. "I have been wanting to fuck this ass since you walked into my gallery," He admitted, fingers grinding against the prostate. "This tight and muscular ass. I don't know how Henry avoids fucking his players." Two fingers curled to a hook and hoisted him, the pressure earning a soft squeal.

Julius's mouth hung open in silence, aching as the fingers left his hole empty and wanting. The rabbit's cock answered, and Julius's fingers dug into the bedsheets, body tensing while keeping his ass relaxed for him. Mr. Godfree did not fuck him, not right away. He speared him, pushing as far as the jock's ass would give before he cried out. "Seems we still have some more work to do. Fantastic."

His apology was muffled by a heavy hand pushing him into the bed. Darian's hips pushed further then back, thrusting at a steady building pace until the squeak of the bed and the schlick of the lube mixed in with their panting. In surrender, he found completion, with pleasure he'd never known scratching at the surface and just waiting to come out.

Time lost its meaning. Mr. Godfree's hands clenched his skull tight, his soft growls digging into his ears. So close, he'd have already cum now if it were reversed. His master's stamina and strength far exceeded his own.

The rabbit's seed, like his strength and mere presence, robbed Julius of whatever masculinity he had left in his mind. He was so close, the pleasure crashing at the dam, when the rabbit pulled out. "We will be spending time training this hole." His Master turned over, taking a quick breather, "Did you cum?"

Julius struggled to lift his head, "No, sir."

"Then let this be your first lesson as my personal model," The rabbit said, hand bracing the gaping hole, "Your pleasure is a gift, not a right."

***

Bruce adjusted his sunglasses, wishing that his hat did more for shade in this island heat than it could. The wolf sighed and pulled up his camera, making sure he had it set properly. Why he couldn't use a digital camera for this expo he'd never understand. Yeah, he was on an abroad photography class, but technology changed over the years.

"Art is art," he parroted his teacher's explanation. Bruce didn't give much of a fuck about art, just a good grade. Only reason he even went on this study abroad was because of the location. Warm water beaches with plenty of hot babes prowling through the palm trees. It certainly beat trying to build extra muscle in the off season. Not that he needed it, with his natural athletic ability.

But instead of sipping mai tai's and chatting up with the local beauties, he had to take photos of a particular artist and his new exhibit. Why the open air art had so many carved dicks he'd never understand. Maybe it had to do with a new wave in the art world, or maybe his teacher was a pervert and needed special dick pics.

He sighed and snapped away, whatever would get him pictures. One sculpture caught his attention, a jackal kneeling with its chest puffed out and legs spread but leaning back as if balanced against something with its ass. It carried a strange shine to it, as if covered in leather rather than sculpted from stone. He stepped closer, confirming the well carved leather model. From the lifeless mask over its face, down to the metal cage between its legs. He blinked, all other statues had their dicks free. But why not this one? Holding his breath, his ears twitched at a familiar sound. Was it breathing? Without realizing it, his hand reached out to touch the mask, to poke the blindfold over its eyes.

"Don't touch the exhibits." A voice called out, freezing the wolf's hand right over the strange sculpture. Bruce turned, finding a well dressed calico rabbit despite the island weather. He carried a look of importance, and the smoldering scent of vanilla that braced the wolf's tongue. "May I help you?"

"Oh, uh, sorry." Bruce pulled his hand away, "I'm here to take a few photos and interview a Darian Godfree."

"Mr. Godfree," The rabbit said, stepping closer. Despite their height difference, Bruce felt he needed to back away. "Interested in this piece?"

"What?" He blinked, then turned to the jackal. "Oh, well it seemed...off."

"Subtle insults are not your strong suit, but I don't expect you to understand. It's called 'L'illusion du choix' and it's my latest creation. It took a lot of time and...molding to pull off."

The rabbit's hand braced the sculpture's chest. Bruce noticed a small key hanging from the older man's wrist. Bruce gulped. Why did he feel so...restrained around this rabbit? "I...I see. Well I need to know your process for a class so if you could tell me I'd-"

"Tell?" The rabbit chuckled, "Art is not something you can tell. You need to experience it. Come along, I'll show you what I mean." Bruce nodded, keeping a steady pace behind the rabbit. He could not help but turn back to the leather jackal as he walked away, swearing that, just for a moment, the figure's chest moved with a steady breath.