GREEN
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2083 11.39 KB 138
2083 11.39 KB 138
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>Glancing over your withers, ears swiveling whichever way, you slip in a few bits into the coin box.
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>A bit short, however you're not exactly rolling in bits.
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>You're not doing anything wrong though.
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>It’s not like there’s a huge shortage of naked ponies casually walking through the markets.
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>Now, usually these things aren’t worth going to.
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>But there’s going to be a special guest today.
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>Which is why you’ve decided to crawl out of your cav- studio.
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>Soapstone, the pegasus renowned for her magnificent life-like sculptures peppering the city of Cloudsdale is RIGHT here in Manehattan.
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>The mere thought of you being in the same room as her makes your nethers heat up.
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>Uncomfortably so.
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>[spoiler]No homo.[/spoiler]
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>It’s going to be a longer figure drawing session after the lecture, as opposed to the quicker five to ten minute poses, so you’re going to do something a little different today.
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>While other artists and dirty hobbyists start to pool in, you fish out a roll of wire out of your saddle bag as well as a tin full of clay.
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>Some mares and the sparse stallion cast you an odd glance, but you scoff at them, puffing out your chest.
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>You bet these filthy box peasants don’t even block-in using triangles.
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>Not gunna make it.png
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>Your ears perk forward as the real life in-pony Soapstone walks on in.
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>You let out a whicker, and immediately throw your hooves over your muzzle in embarrassment.
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>Ears moving about in alarm, you slowly relax.
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>Nopony else seems to have noticed, either preoccupied with sharpening their charcoal or making light conversation with each other.
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>You sit and fidget awkwardly as you watch Soap casually throwing her bag off to the side as she moves the studio lights around.
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>A tall figure, a creature you’ve never seen, or even heard of before steps into the room, with a large blanket draped over his towering form.
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>By Celestia, he's huge.
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>[spoiler]Hopefully his fruit don't fall far from the tree[/spoiler]
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>Needless to say, he grabs the attention of the whole room, encasing it in pin-drop silence.
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>It looks like he has no fur on his face, but the light in the studio makes it hard to tell.
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>He approaches the stand and looks around the class, then back down at Soapstone as she moves the lights around a little more
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>She even putting one up onto a chair, as to hit the sharper features on his face.
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>Honed observational skills drink in every bit of his head, from the nearly flat muzzle, to his rounded little ears, to his predatory forward set eyes.
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>You ruffle your feathers.
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>...He’s going to be an absolute pleasure to study.
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>You don’t even notice the cute Earthpony stallion that went up to sit beside the two.
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>”Alright class, I’m sure you know who I am already, and I’m going to give a short workshop on the body in motion and I’ve got a special guest who’s a biped to help us further appreciate the forms on the quadruped. It’s a bit of an advanced lecture so if they’re any questions, please ask them.”
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>There’s murmurs and nods of approval from the crowd and they get their tools of the trade ready.
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>You nuzzle through your saddlebag and pull out your x-acto knife and wire cutter and get ready to cut a few strands to match his proportions.
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>It’s a bit difficult, never having even seen a biped in real life before but it shouldn’t be too hard.
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>You think you catch a nervous glance coming from him, but it could have been your imagination.
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>He and soapstone share a few words, before he stands back up, letting the blanket fall.
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>Your eyes widen, as you see he’s dropped from his sheath, if only a bit.
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>No wonder he seemed embarrassed.
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>”Anon, if you could kneel down and get down on all fours, side facing the class.”
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”Anon...” you murmur, letting his name roll off your tongue.
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>He gives her a curt nod and does so. “With how much you’re paying me to sit around and model, I’ll do more than that,”
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>The creature chuckles at the expense of Soapstone’s reddened face.
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>It brings up a few laughs from the class, and even from you.
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>You like this stallion already.
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>Soapstone tells the stallion next to him to do the same, so that they’re facing each other on the stand.
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>”Now class, can you make any observations about the two anatomy-wise?”
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>A blue mare from the back of the class raises her hand.
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>“He barely has any fat on him, but he has a big solid looking flank.”
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>A few more chuckles ripple through the class.
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>Nopony ever said artists were supposed to be mature.
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>Soapstone smiles at the observation. “Yes, a very developed gluteus maximus and a very large iliac crest to support it,” she says, tracing her hoof around the indent where his supposed iliac crest is and down to his solid gluteus.
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>He seems to stiffen at the contact, in more ways than one.
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>"This ridge here is the ASIS on the human so you can very well see how big his iliac crest actually is. Apparently on his females it's much wider, to support foal birth."
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>His females must be very sturdy, he'd probably shatter a pony pelvis trying to mount them.
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>”This is the driving force of bipeds, since they only have two legs. it's very prominent on minotaurs as well. But if you look here at his tricep,” she trots around him runs her hoof around the back of his arm.
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”That little thing is his tricep?” you slip out, before covering your mouth.
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>The creature huffs, ”Hey little mare, I’ll have you know I do my BORs every day.”
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>You sink in your chair in embarrassment, but he smiles at you afterwards.
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”He was joking around again,” you whimper and you let out a breath. One you didn’t know you were holding.
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>Huhh, you think you saw canines on him so he really is a predator.
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>”Yes, not as big as on the stallion, right?” Soapstone continues. “Bipeds don’t need it to move forward while walking and running, but if you look up here at his deltoid-”
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>”It’s huge!” A stallion in the class calls out.
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”Yep,” you whisper, looking back his slowly stiffening member.
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>”And on the stallion, you can barely notice the muscle tucked in here,” The Sculptor says, pointing at the appropriate muscle on the stallion. “Does anypony know why that is?”
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>...
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>No responses.
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>”Anon, could you please stand normally and move your arms around?”
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>He does so, rolling his shoulders around and moving his arms in whichever direction effortlessly.
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>His hairless body, though a bit odd, is allowing you see his muscles tensing and relaxing under his skin easily, more so now that he’s starting to sweat.
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>It’s probably because of the harsh lights up there directly on him.
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>You can see why soapstone hired him instead of a minotaur for this.
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>The specular light gleaming off his smooth skin is making your mind race.
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>You barely notice yourself starting to work the wires on the desk in front of you.
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>”The three heads of the deltoid as well as a bunch of other muscles allow for maximum range of movement with his forelimbs- ahh hold on.”
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>The sculptor walks out of the class, and rolls in a huge ball made out of marble into the room.
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>With a grunt, the creature lifts it up and places it on his shoulder.
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>”This allows the biped to climb, swim, and carry things with ease, as you can see. because it's anchored on three points, it gives him maximum range of movement for all these tasks.
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>She steps off the platform with a little flutter of her wings.
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>"Notice how his tricep actually relaxes as his deltoids flex. It’s a common mistake with figure drawing, to make all the muscles in movement tense up. But it would be impossible to move if that were the case. I hope that gives you guys something to think about when drawing the body in motion.” Soapstone finishes, nodding at the creature, who’s at full mast by now.
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>The class is pretending not to notice for the stallion’s sake, but you can hear the stunted breaths of the mares around you as the poor thing shifts uncomfortably putting the marble ball down.
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>You’re just glad you’re not the only one.
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>"Any questions?" Soapstone asks, grabbing a vacant chair for the creature.
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>There’s a near dead silence in response.
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>”I got one,” The creature replies, sweat now dripping from his face. ”We’re going to do that figure stuff now? How should I sit?”.
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>He plops down on his haunches facing you.
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>When he does, his cock slaps audibly against his belly, making you and some other mares jump slightly in their seat.
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"By Appa-Loomis’ mane," you hiss under your breath.
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>It looks hard, a lot more unyielding than a stallion’s. It’s difficult to imagine that going into a mare without tearing her insides apart.
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>Even then, the exotic rounded tip and the thicker girth might just make that venture worth it.
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>”Whatever feels comfortable, honey,” The instructor coos. “You’ll need to hold the pose for an hour, after all.”
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>The creature then shrugs his shoulders again, before leaning back, most of his weight on his forelimb, “Alright. You’re the boss.”
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>His eyes wander a bit, but they rest on you in a neutral gaze.
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”Sweet baby Vealppu,” you moan, as he spreads his legs a bit to get ‘more comfortable.’
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>You almost feel bad for the students that decided to sit behind him.
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>The mares at either side of you start to scoot their chairs closer to your position, but the leer on your face deters them from getting any closer.
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>He’s yours.
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>With the wireframe set, you start laying on smaller clumps of clay.
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>You can’t quite take your eyes off the stallion, but your hooves move just as fluidly.
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>So this is what it’s like to FEEL.
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>Sweat dampens your fur as you start to work the x-acto knife around the clay, cutting off bits and pieces with ease to get a fine block-in going.
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>When that’s done with, you hold the sides of the model with your hooves and muzzle with firm yet with practiced precision, stroking down the harder edges until they’re uniform and smooth.
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>You think you like this more.
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>Drawing is one thing, but to feel the heavy weight of clay in your hooves is much more liberating.
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>The hour goes by rather quickly and Sandstone comes back around to look at some of the student work, giving each of them a bit of feedback.
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>As soon as you finish you let out a squeak and throw the tin over the model.
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>Stupid mare.
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>You just made a lifesize replica of the stallions weird penis.
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>”Ahh, I see we have another sculptor in here!” you hear Soapstone remark as she trots up to you.
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>Your cold sweat is now liberally dripping from your muzzle.
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”Uhmm, y-yeah,” you squeak. “I-I r-r-really like your work, Ms. Sandstone,” you say sinking into your chair.
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>The stallion behind her gets up, and throws the blanket on again. ”You should show her it, she can give you pointers.”
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>His grin is even wider than before.
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>Of course he saw you making it, he was staring right at you the whole time.
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>You want to go home and die.
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”I-I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” you somehow sink further into your chair.
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>”Well, I’m off, Soapy,” he turns to leave, but looks at you one last time giving you a sultry wink.
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>”I told you not to call me that, Anon.” The mare snorts.
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>She turns back to you and cocks her head. “So, can I see it?”
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”Actually. I-I should go. N-n-nice meeting you.” You scoop all of your tools into your saddlebag before grabbing the sculpture and bolting out of the room.
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>You need to get materials to make a mold out of this for later.
by Rhorse
by Rhorse
by Rhorse
by Rhorse
by Rhorse