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Hypnovember Day 11: On Display

Written by: TiranMaster

Prompt by: Hyenaface

"Once you model for Bostrom, you've made it big in the world." Those were the words uttered by many of the highest earning models of the city, they were each gorgeous, and each of them had their careers take off the moment they'd worked for Bostrom. Their images plastered on the face of many famous magazines, perfect poses, their bodies pure artistry. It was said that Bostrom could peer into someone and bring out the best in them, and he only accepted the best.

Rashcau couldn't believe then that he'd been chosen, he hadn't believed it when the email had appeared in his inbox. The ibex had been on the modeling circuit for a little over a year now, walking from gig to gig, getting some fairly popular magazines to use him for their magazines. The goat had been warned when he'd entered into the modeling world that there weren't many people interested in his horns, and had even been told a couple of times that he should get them trimmed, or even cut off. Of course, Rashcau hadn't caved in, instead he'd continued on and so far it had worked rather well. There were certain demographics in the city who were interested in seeing people with horns, after all, plenty of people in the world rocked horns or antlers.

Of course, Rashcau hadn't bothered to put in any sort of request to Bostrom, for multiple reasons. First of all, it would be the height of an ego for someone who'd only been professionally modeling to try and get a job from one of the preeminent photographers in the city. Secondly, nobody sent in a request to Bostrom, he chose who he wanted to model for him, and that was that. So when Raschau received the email, his heart leapt into his throat as he quickly clicked on it. It was... surprisingly blunt, not so much a request for him to come, as much commands to be followed directly.

Raschau Smoutz, you are to report to my housing complex in three days promptly at noon. Should you not know where I live, I imagine it will not be hard to look it up yourself The day prior to your arrival, you shall only drink water and eat a very small breakfast of oatmeal. Should you eat more, I will know, and you will be dismissed. You are to come in plain clothes with no electronics on your person, if you attempt to come in with them, you shall be dismissed. Finally, you are to tell no one that you have been given this honor, should you inform them, I will find out, and you will be dismissed.

-Bostrom

Having read over the email several times, Raschau had found himself stunned into silence, unsure of what to do. The terms were rather harsh with no give... but he supposed if he were going to have the opportunity to truly make it in the modeling world... what better chance than working with Bostrom? So he did as he was instructed, the ibex clearing his schedule for the day in question, telling anyone who asked that he'd had something come up in his personal life. There were a few grumbles and irritated messages, but the model was able to get everyone on the same page without letting slip his actual reasoning.

The day prior to his meeting with Bostrom, Raschau ate nothing but a simple bowl of oatmeal and drank plenty of water. It wasn't the most insane thing that the goat had ever done, though admittedly he did wish he could eat just a bit more. To keep his mind off of things though, he did some light exercise, and look into Bostrom a bit. All he was able to dig up about the reclusive photographer though was that he was a fantastic artist who was able to bring out the true potential in anyone he photographed, making them into gorgeous stars. Several pictures came up showing models who absolutely glowed in every image, their every picture showing off their beauty, lustrous coats of fur, gleaming scales, muscles that bulged with peak perfection. Just looking at them made Raschau feel extremely inadequate, how was he going to fit in with them?

There weren't many images of Bostrom as he tended to stay in his loft, sending out others to do things in the daily world for himself. The image that Raschau did find of him showed a startlingly gorgeous arctic fox wearing a glorious gown, piercing blue eyes staring out from behind a pair of Pince Nez glasses. He was just as beautiful as any of the models he photographed, possibly even more so, the ibex suddenly felt like he should decline out of sheer disappointment in himself. Those thoughts were too pitiful though, so Raschau drew together his courage and told himself to follow through.

With a fitful night's rest, Raschau made himself lay in bed for a while longer the next day than he normally would, just so that he would look as rested as possible. Getting on a rather nice outfit for himself, Raschau wrapped a scarf around his neck along with a nice button up jacket, and stepped out the door. Bostrom's home was a forty minute drive away, so of course the ibex left an hour and a half early as he couldn't handle the idea that he might lose the opportunity out of tardiness. The entire drive towards his destination, Raschau found his hands tightening and untightening on the driver's wheel, his heart beating fast, his palms sweaty. "Pull yourself together," he said sharply, shaking his head vigorously.

Arriving at the building thirty minutes early, Bostrom was relieved that he'd left early, but equally hated it as he realized that he would be waiting for a while longer. So he pulled his phone out and glanced once more through some of Bostrom's photographs, marveling at the actors, their expressions distant and their every pose marvelous. They each seemed so perfect, so pristine, it was as if the fox was capable of turning any model into a perfected statue. "I can be one too," he breathed, looking at the pictures as if they might impart some sort of wisdom.

Time dragged by, but eventually Raschau climbed out of his car, walked into the entrance of the building and was directed by the front desk attendant to step into an elevator. The interior of the building made Raschau dreadfully aware of how low class he was in comparison, a magnificent entrance with a chandelier overhead and black marble underfoot. Anyone who walked about within looked to belong there with their elegant wear, and though the goat was a model, somehow he still looked imperfect amongst the others there. He kept his mouth shut about it though, he couldn't stand to break the illusion that he had a good reason to be there.

Finally Raschau stepped out of the elevator at the penthouse, the elevator opening before a pair of grand double doors that were alabaster white. He strode up slowly, unsure of what to do, and reached out to knock on the door. Before his hand could touch the unmarred surface though, the doors opened to reveal the shockingly tall figure of Bostrom behind them, standing in a beautiful sequined robe that draped to the floor. "Promptly at noon," the fox said in a slightly distant tone, "good, you can follow instructions. Some of the others weren't so compliant," he noted, stepping aside before gesturing for the goat to step inside.

"I just wanted to thank you for-" Raschau started to speak as he walked inside, though before he could get too far the fox snapped at him.

"Stop talking!" The goat's mouth snapped shut, his teeth ached as they struck together, the motion far harder than he'd been intending. "I did not bring you here to chatter, Mister Smoutz, I have brought you here to become art. Quit your incessant speaking and follow my instructions." Raschau noted that Bostrom had a slight accent to his words, the goat unable to place it, but found it rather pleasing. Instead of answering, he just nodded, ducking his head ever so slightly in shame.

The interior of the fox's abode was futuristic and beautiful, a gorgeous white rug underfoot that Raschau was very worried he was going to stain. The walls were all rounded, giving a strangely sci-fi feeling to the place, silver bordered paintings hung up with care from the ceiling. Many of the pictures were those that Bostrom himself had taken, pictures of stars that Raschau recognized from online, beautiful pieces that stole the model's breath away. "Remove your shoes before you go any further," the fox commanded. That didn't shock Raschau, but he did feel embarrassed that he hadn't done it sooner, he'd gotten lost in the beauty of the artist's home.

Stripping off his shoes hurriedly, Raschau found himself vaguely worrying that his feet might smell bad, but if they did the fox didn't comment as he strolled past languidly. "Remove your socks as well," he said over his shoulder in a bored tone. The goat followed that command as well, feeling strangely like he was some student being spoken to by a condescending teacher. After pulling his shoes off, Raschau fell in step behind the fox, careful not to say anything, though allowing his eyes to take in the building. It had a very minimalist aesthetic, aside from the portraits, there weren't many very personal touches to the building. Any furniture was sheerly out of necessity, not for comfort.

All of it gave Raschau an impression that the artist before him lived for his art, he lived in a gorgeous house, yet chose not to do anything with it more than he had to. It was almost a little sad... but of course, Bostrom seemed to be thriving in it rather than oppressed by it. They walked further into the fox's abode, and soon they were at a small studio space. A camera was sat upon a glass table, it was a surprisingly high tech looking silver model that Raschau didn't recognize. For a moment the ibex almost asked what it was, but remembered Bostrom's comment about talking, so he kept his mouth tightly shut. "Your silence is appreciated," Bostrom said, giving Raschau a pleased look.

Giving Bostrom a mere nod and a smile, Raschau felt a jolt of pleasure at apparently having pleased the fox. "Now, I am sure you have been told that when I choose a model, their careers take off. Correct?" Raschau chose to nod instead of verbally answering, the fox nodded in approval at his choice. "I am constantly looking at new modeling prospects, looking at those who have the capacity for true art within them, those who push boundaries, those whose wills are firm and unbendable."

That lit a flame of pride in Raschau's heart, his mind flicking to those people who told him to trim his horns, how he'd refused to bend over for them. "I look for those... so that I can bend them to my will." That froze Raschau, the goat glancing at the fox with a bit of shock and surprise in his face. Bostrom had walked over to the table with the camera, stroking it tenderly, and he looked at Raschau with a smile that terrified the goat. "I can see it within many models, the unbreakable quality, those who will not conform to others' expectations. That is truly a delightful thing to see... because I flourish in the delight in turning them into what I want them to be."

Some sense of horror was prodding at Raschau, he didn't know what, but something about this suddenly felt... very wrong. He stepped away from those ice blue eyes, wanting suddenly to be anywhere but here. "Stop right there," Bostrom said. The ibex's body obeyed, he stopped, completely, barely even breathing. "Look at that, already following my words," the fox chuckled, reaching up and pulling his gown down a bit to reveal more of the pristine white fur underneath. "All of you who come to me are the same. So resilient to all, but given the chance at true stardom, you fall in line like all of the rest."

"What... what's going on?" Raschau managed through clenched teeth, the effort more than it should've been, his body painfully stiff.

"Did I give you permission to talk, goat?" Bostrom asked, his eyes growing even colder, his hand tightening on the camera. Raschua's throat constricted, his tongue suddenly thick, he couldn't say a single word. "From today on, you are going to be mine, model. Like all of those before you, each and every one of you, are mine." He said this with such possessiveness that Raschau whimpered in fear.

Picking up the camera, Bostrom gestured towards a spot in the room set up for someone to be photographed, a pure white background standing there, waiting for someone to stand before it. "Stand there, model." Once more Raschau's body obeyed the fox's words, he couldn't disobey, his movements were stiff and almost robotic. He tried to fight it, but from the moment he'd entered the building, it was like his every whim was second to that of the fox's.

Standing before the white background, Raschau's heart was thumping hard in his chest, the fox looking at him with a slightly disapproving air. "No... no, that will not do. Your clothes are covering up everything, they must go." With that command, Raschau's clothes were gone, he was completely nude before the photographer. His eyes widened slightly, this was... insane, impossible, this shouldn't be happening. "Much better. Strike a pose, Raschau, this will be the last one you get to choose."

The goat felt his muscles untense, he could move again, his immediate reaction was to cover up his manhood. "What the hell are you?! What's going on here?!"

"That's not what I said, Raschau," the fox tsked, looking displeased as he rolled those vivid cerulean eyes. "Either strike a pose voluntarily, or I shall have to do it for you."

"This isn't right, you can't possibly be doing this!" Raschau growled, starting towards the fox with his body tensed. He'd put a lot of time and effort into building his body, toning it, making it absolutely perfect for a model. So he was a fairly intimidating man when he wanted to be... but he was nothing before the arctic fox.

A single hand lifted up and was held out in a stopping gesture, Raschau's body stopped instantly, his arms falling to his sides, his head snapping straight ahead. "Very well, we shall do this like so many of the others," the fox said in a bored tone. "You all make this all rather tedious, I give you permission to choose your last pose, and instead you all act like petulant children. Very well, take on a proper strong man pose and hold it."

Turning on a dime, Raschau's body stood back before the white background and posed, curling both of his biceps up and turning his head over his shoulder to look back at Bostrom. His muscles tensed up to show off the definition of his back, his bare ass tightening up to look perfectly and plump. Even his calves tightened up, his body becoming the picture of a perfect pose. "Give me a nice smile while you're at it," Bostrom commanded, pulling the camera up to his eye as he pointed it in the goat's direction.

Without pause, Raschau put on a winning smile, but his mind was panicking. Something was very wrong, he looked at the camera and saw... something terrible in the lens. There was a glowing eye in there, blue just like Bostrom's, but it was a blue flaming thing with a serpentine iris. He realized that he was looking at something wrong, something demonic... but he couldn't do anything about it. That brought to mind something he'd noticed about all of the pictures of the models he'd seen, the same look on their face. Their expressions had been beatific, perfect... but why had their eyes looked so... scared?

The camera snapped the first picture and Raschau gasped as something was taken from him, his eyes widening as he watched the blue eye within the camera burn bright. The goat's very soul pulled out in an instant, his eyes burning a bright blue for a moment as he stood there, perfectly still, unable to move a muscle. The sensation slowly passed as something changed within the model, his body becoming... better in every way. In that instant, Raschau's potential was pulled to the forefront. Any excess fat burning away, imperfections being ironed out, his muscles standing out in peak beauty, his posture perfecting itself. The goat's thoughts of horror and fear fading into a dull pleasure as he moaned, his cock hardening as his eyes shifted from blue back to their original brown.

Bostrom smiled as he pulled the camera down, and behind him a new portrait appeared, one showing Raschau. The goat looked perfect in the picture, his muscles the very image of excellence, his pelt glistening with light that couldn't possibly be there. Everything about the picture was stark and gorgeous, all save for his eyes, wide with terror. "Now, shall we continue with our shoot?" the fox asked, smiling wide at the goat.

Blinking slowly a few times, Raschau shifted a few times, admiring his new body, recognizing distantly that he'd made a deal inadvertently with a devil. "I... would love to," he said, his smile widening as he looked down at himself with an admiring eye. "Whatever you'd like... sir."

"Very good, I shall bring in a bench and we will photograph you as you are. Then I will fetch some outfits for you to try on. Tonight we will start your new life, and tomorrow I think you can do some proper posing in a gallery." The goat nodded eagerly, his eyes heavily lidded as he licked his lips, his cock tense and throbbing.

***

The Next Night:

The gallery was full of unmoving models, all of them completely nude, all of them completely still. Not one of them breathing, but all of them perfectly alive as they kept their stances. Each of them was inhumanly beautiful, their features perfect, and each of them was aroused in some form. "Absolutely gorgeous, Bostromivil, you've truly outdone yourself this time," a winged demon said, walking past each of the mortals with a keen eye. "Will you be auctioning off any of the stock this time around?"

Strolling behind the demon with a relaxed smile, Bostrom slipped a cigarette out from the side of his muzzle and let out a small cloud of smoke. "I'll be selling some of the older models as they're starting to show signs of corruption," he explained, gesturing to a bull nearby. The bull's horns were singed at the ends, his cock larger than it really should've been, and the fur that was once luxurious and brown was starting to become abyssal black.

"Wonderful, he looks like quite the piece of beauty. I'm sure he'll make for perfect stock for my home," the demon chuckled. "Oh... is this one new? I've not seen him yet, not even in the magazines."

"I procured this one yesterday, a surprise for the gala tonight," Bostrom chuckled, both of them turning to look at the goat standing upon a pedestal. He'd grown a little taller since the day before, his horns looking a little sharper now, and his muscles the absolute picture of perfection. He stood holding a stone globe with ease, his body tensed under the weight, but his face a serene smile. "He'll be fresh for some time yet, so don't think you'll be getting your claws into him anytime soon."

The demon let out a low sigh, looking at the goat wantingly. "A shame, I really do love demonic goats, they make for quite the fun lay. Still, I look forward to the sinfully delightful things he'll be doing in the future for you, Bostromivil."

"As do I," the fox purred, walking over and stroking a hand down the goat's face. "As do I."

Raschau took the touch with no movement at all, the goat completely still, unable to do anything beyond what the fox commanded. He recognized distantly that he'd been changed, that his very soul was gone... but he couldn't really find it in himself to care. He stood here, amongst the other great models, and quivered with delight. He'd made it, and he knew that he'd be telling future models the same thing told to him. "Once you model for Bostrom, you've made it big in the world."